純貴坊酒業
我尊稱你為詩人
作者：徐敬亞
世界上至少有兩種詩。日常的、像蝴蝶一樣在人間飛舞的詩與詩性語言，它們大概由過去常說的繆斯女神主管。我承認他們都算是詩人——這是站在人類學和社會學的立場。而另一類，超智的、天才的，對世界持有獨特看法和語言魔力的詩，則只能由上帝親手主管。我認為他們是能夠影響人類的詩人——這是站在詩學和智慧、尊嚴的立場。
這些年，我對詩一直心懷以上兩種廣義、狹義的標準。對于一線的詩人們，我希望盡量拿出我的挑剔與刻薄。而對民間眾多的詩歌寫作者，我希望對他們越來越寬容。我的依據是：在當下中國，詩已成為社會的偏遠部落。詩寫得好、不太好、不好，已不再是重大問題。在強橫的生存面前，詩已降低為一種“部落識別碼”。它在一批人與另一批人之間劃出了分隔紅塵與天堂的邊線……再嚴格一點說，是否守住好詩的嚴酷標準，其實是一個詩歌寫作者撐下去的唯一理由。這正如我們可以無條件地承認一些生物屬于女人，但整個人類對美女的標準仍然十分苛刻。
讀三泉的詩，讀了10來首時，我感到：他擊中了我。
他不是那種刀槍翻飛，或者把金箍棒舞得團團轉的武者。他像一個略含孤僻的默者，冷笑著偶爾刺過來幾支匕首便轉身而去。其實，這種高冷匕首的方式，早已成為當下的慣用路數。而同樣的路數下，就看你的匕首尖不尖，深不深，你有沒有真功夫。
我們讀詩的興趣、效果從哪里來，其實它只能起源于一種共同感。在千差萬別的人類感覺中，畢竟還存在著某種互感的、公共性的念頭與通道。
其實，詩歌圈內的閱讀很可怕。我們這些一輩子和詩在一起的人，或者說同行的家伙們的閱讀，與其說是專業的、老道的、挑剔的，不如說是麻木的、互輕的、職業病式的帶有某種先天嫉妒味道的閱讀。詩歌圈內總是不乏夸獎之辭。大致可分三類。一類是不知羞恥地夸贊。如排除無知，這類夸者應該改行或自殺。第二類是輕佻地夸獎，夸詞如水面上漂浮，不敢真切用語，一看便知他藏在后面的臉微紅。最后一類是閱讀者的美學被擊中，內感的界線被突破。這時候最奇妙的反應是這個閱讀者的腦海中甚至涌出些微詩意，假設他還愿意說出來。
三泉對“時間”的感覺驚人。
他說：我剛寫下“時間”，時間就被我用掉。這是魔鬼快速出現并被快速擦去的一瞬。
時間與空間，是我們感覺世界的基本框架。空間是骨骼，時間是靈魂。沒有誰能描繪時間，它沒有形狀，沒有始終。
三泉深一步說：我用掉自己，所以我證明，我是時間的邊緣。這不僅是覺察，更似愛因斯坦式的辨斷與宣告，幾乎可以寫出時間公式了。
如果沒有專門的研究，他寫不出高難度的歸屬感：時間，屬于一場不存在的雨。他把時間的流逝形象化，然后又一筆虛化。
他說：我一直在過剩下的時光……父親走后，母親是剩下的。悲哀而殘酷，他把不著邊際的時間精致地切成帶魚段，陰陽兩隔。
他說：時間不需加油……像一場電影中睡著的部分，被無情地忽略……
他說：萬物都在重復，只有死亡不會。
在中國當代詩人中，有誰這樣精妙地品味過時間。在三泉最妙手偶得的幾首詩中，他似乎成為時間體味大師。
無疑，第一輯《時間速寫》是三泉最動人的部分。在后面幾輯中我的感覺弱下來了。詩并不是用固定模具生產的。沒有任何一位詩人永遠能寫出像麥茬一樣同等高度的詩。
我似乎無法改變喜歡詩中金句的習慣。那些如美女一樣的句子，是一首詩最深的劃痕，是最能觸動并釋放讀者高峰體驗的搔點，如同匕首鋒刃旁那一道放血的溝槽。對金句詩我的標準很簡單：一是生命意識要重。二是感覺層面要輕。三是語言修辭要透明。
當然我也喜歡平緩、安靜、純然一色的感覺性的詩。那類詩的光并不強，也并不聚光燈似地只激射某幾行。它是一種通篇發著光的亮度。雖然詩意溫吞吞地平滑，但卻可以有羅宋湯一樣的濃度。那是另一類低調的高僧。它需要詩人通體透亮，具有獨立于世的情感，甚至暗中的哲學與美學。這類詩人基本是悲憫憂傷的，走在月球的背面。
在讀三泉的詩的時候，我像在一條起伏的路上踩點。我要尋找這個詩人的最高點！——即他看待世界的、唯他自己的那個基點的海拔。
我發現三泉對空間的感覺也有不凡。他說：我用一小時交換山的高度/又用三十分鐘，把它歸還。他把爬山者和山之間的關系寫出了外交家的氣度，用詞講究，內涵也舒展、高貴。他說：大海不停地放大悲傷/它把傷口縫上，又撕開……這個感覺倒是很多人所共有，但三泉的體驗和修辭都更真切。別人也能刺，但他能刺出血。他說：每一滴水，都在咬緊牙關。其兇狠，超常。
在尋找他對本體的感知時，我找到了：當衰老來臨/我的身體，竟有幾分順從。從文化意義上說，這是自我的分裂與不甘。從詩人寫作的內感上講，這樣的自我反詰耗能很大，需要內心涌起相當大的浪濤。用詞用語老道，“竟”字強大，“順從”精準。他還說過：一支蘆花替我活著。這是三泉哀傷的口吻。
有意思的是，我發現這本詩集中出現了10次引文。簡單查了一下查不出。于是我索性在網上全部普查一遍，竟然蹤影全無。我猜測那些句子出自他閱讀范圍內的某類書籍。而這些書籍又帶有某種宗教的色彩。我也的確在這本詩集中嗅出了些許的另類氣息：我有大片糧倉，依然低頭去撿一棵稻穗……自然的主啊……請給我裝上麋鹿的眼睛、綿羊的心。
26年前憤于名人序濫，我寫過一篇文章《拒絕為人寫序》。少壯悲憤自絕，老來何必執拗。于詩來說有感便發，無感攤手，管它什么名號。
回到開頭的話題，什么是詩人？我認為：只能感動自己的，屬于以詩為藥的自救者。能感動別人的，才是普渡的詩者。
三泉，我愿意尊稱你為詩人。
這是我寫的序。
2022-3-10
注：本文為三泉詩集《天鵝之死》序
I Respectfully Call You a Poet
By Xu Jingya
There are at least two kinds of poetry in the world. The daily poetry and poetic language that dance around this world like butterflies are presumably, as people used to say, presided over by the Muse. I admit that I regard them all as poets — from an anthropological and sociological standpoint. And the other group, those super-intelligent and gifted poetry with unique views and linguistic magic can only be in the charge of God himself. I believe they are poets who can influence human beings — this is from the standpoint of poetics, wisdom and dignity.
Over the years, I have been thinking about poetry in both broad and narrow terms. As to the front-line poets, I hope to be as critical and caustic as possible. And when it comes to thenumerous folk poets, I hope to be more and more tolerant. My basis is that poetry has become a remote tribe of society in current China. What mattersa lot is no longer whether poetry is written well, not very well or not well at all. Poetry has been reduced to a “tribal identification code” in the face of tough survival, and itdraws a boundary line separating the world from heaven between one group and another... To put it more strictly, the adherence to the harsh standards of good poetry is actually the only reason for a poet to persist in his writing, just as,despite our unconditional admission that some creatures belong to women, the entire human race has very strict standards for beauty.
After reading about 10 poems written by Sanquan, I felt:he struck me.
He is less a martial artist who flips his sword or dances Monkey King's golden cudgel around than a silent man with slight solitude, sneering, occasionally stabbing a few daggers and turning away. In fact, this elegantly cold daggering has long become popular nowadays. It all depends, in the same way, on how sharp your dagger is, how deep it goes and how skilled you are.
Our interest and effectiveness in reading poetry, as it is, originate from a common sense. There are, after all, some mutual inductance and common notions and channels in thousands of different human feelings.
As a matter of fact, reading in the poetry world is quite awful. When reading, those of us who have livedwith poetry, or those fellow poets, are not so much professional, experienced and picky as insensitive, mutually contemptuous, occupational-disease-like and innately jealous. The praise that prevails in this circle fall roughly into three categories. The first is to compliment shamelessly. If ignorance is excluded, such flatterers should change their careers or commit suicide. The second is to praise frivolously. Words floating on water, he dares not make sincere comments. It’s obvious that his face hidden behind blushes slightly. The last is that the reader’s aesthetic sense is thrilled and the border of his inner feeling broken through. The most wonderful reaction at this time is that it even has a ring of poetry in his own mind, assuming that he chooses to say it at all.
Sanquan has an amazing sense of “time”.
He said: the moment I write down "time", I’ve used it up. This was the instant when the devil quickly appeared and was quickly wiped off.
The basic framework where we feel the world is constituted by time and space which respectively make up bone and soul. No one can describe time, for it has neither shape, nor beginning or end.
Sanquan said: I use up myself, so I prove that I am the edge of time. This showed not only perception, but Einstein’s judgment and declaration, almost writing a formula of time.
Without special research, he couldn’t have written in a difficult sense of belonging: time belongs to a rain that does not exist. He visualized the passage of time and then virtualized it.
He said: I've been spending what’s left in my life... After my father passed away, my mother makes what’s left. Sad and cruel, he delicately cut the endless time into fish segments, separating the living and the dead.
He said: time needs no refueling... Like the sleeping part of watching a movie, which is ruthlessly ignored.
He said: everything repeats, except death.
There being noother contemporary Chinese poet who can deal with time in such an exquisite way, Sanquanseems to be a professional time taster in some of his most ingenious poems.
Undoubtedly, I’m most impressed by the first series “Time Sketch”. And my feelings weakened in the next few series. Poetry is not produced in a fixed mold, and no poets can ever write poetry of the same height as the wheat stubble.
I can’t seem to get out of the habit of favoring golden lines when reading poetry. Those beauty-like lines are the deepest scratches in a poem, which, just like the bleeding grooves next to the blade of a dagger, trigger and release the reader’s peak experience. My standard for golden verses is very simple: first, the life consciousness should be highlighted. Second, the feeling aspect should be lightened. Third, the linguistic rhetoric should be transparent.
Of course, I also like gentle, quiet and pure poems that can wake up emotional echoes. Instead of spotlighting only a few lines, it shines with moderate and penetrating brightness. Tepid and smooth as its poetic quality is, it can have the same concentration as borscht. That’s another class of low-key eminent monk. The poet is required to be transparently bright, emotionally independent, and even reservedly knowledgeable about philosophy and aesthetics. Mostly compassionate and sentimental, such poets walk on the other side of the moon.
When reading Sanquan’s poems, I feel like treading a rolling road. I want to seek his highest point — that is, the elevation from which he, himself alone, views the world.
I found that Sanquan’s sense of space is also very impressive. He said: I exchange one hour for the height of the mountain / and 30 minutes for its return. With exquisite words and flexible and noble connotation, he described the relationship between climbers and mountains in a diplomat’s demeanor. He said: the sea kept magnifying its sadness / it sewed and tore its wounds... This feeling is shared by many people, but Sanquan's experience and rhetoric are more vivid and distinct. Others can stab while he can stab as well as bleeding. He said: every drop of water is gritting its teeth. Soextraordinarily fierce.
In searching for his perception of noumenon, I found：when aging comes / my body is unexpectedly somewhat obedient, which, in a cultural sense, suggests self-fragmentation and unwillingness. In terms of the poet’s inner sense of writing, however, such self-questioning is rather energy-consuming and requires a considerable surge of waves in his heart. The diction is quite sophisticated, for example, “unexpectedly” is so overwhelming, and “obedient” extremely precise. He also said: a reed flower lives on behalf of me. This revealed the sadness typical of Sanquan.
Interestingly, I came across 10 quotations in this collection, which I found from nowhere after a brief search. So I might as well make a thorough search on the Internet, only to discover no trace. I guess those lines came from some books he read that have a certain religious trait. I did smell something different in this collection:having a large area of granary, I still bow to pick up a stalk of rice... Lord of nature... please fit me with an elk’s eyes and a sheep’s heart.
Angry at the flooding of celebrities’ writing prefaces 26 years ago, I wrote an article titled I Refuse to Preface Others’ Works. Now I’m old enough to break my promise made out of sorrow and indignation when I was young. When it comes to poetry, where there is a feeling, there is a comment. Otherwise, no matter whose work it is, I have no comment to make.
Back to the beginning, what makes a poet? I believe: he who can only move himself is a self-rescuer to take poetry as medicine. He who can move others is the poet to rescue all beings.
Sanquan, I respectfully call you a poet.
This is the preface I write.
March 10, 2022
天鵝之死（中英）
作者：三泉
中英文對照詩集?第一輯?時間速寫
Chinese and English Poetry Collection ? PartOne? Time Sketch
時間速寫
我剛寫下“時間”，時間就被我用掉。
我只好以出生，代替時間的開始，
以死亡代替它的終結。
我用掉自己，所以我證明，
我是時間的邊緣，
我永遠差一點，寫出它。
“萬物皆為時間的刻度，
我必將成為那過時之人”
這讓我想起秋天，果實被時間分割，
我只能描寫它的墜落，憂傷也一筆帶過。
Time Sketch
The moment I write down “time”, I’ve used it up.
I have to replace the beginning of time with birth,
And its ending with death.
I use up myself, so thatI can prove
I am the edge of time.
I am always close to writing it.
“All things are scales of time,
And I’ll be the one left behind.”
It reminds me of autumn when fruit issliced by time.
I can only describe its fall, with no expansion of my sadness.
少女
大霧附體。山谷戴著諸神的帽子。
我們之間隔著溝壑，像隔著
兩個模糊不清的年代。
如果我走近，它就會升騰，交給我一片
真實的虛空。
那個用橡皮擦去我濃密黑發的少女
同樣有任性的美——
她畫了幾根
灰色的稀疏的枝條
以表達山谷上，即將消散的蒼茫。
The Girl
Penetrated with thick fog, the valley wore the hat of the gods.
We were separated by a gully, as if separated
By two blurred ages.
If I came near, it wouldrise and offer me a piece of
True void.
The girl who wiped my thick black hair with an eraser
Was of the samewillfulbeauty—
She drew a few
Sparse gray branches
To express the fading vastness above the valley.
登山記
時間有自己的臺階。
我們結伴而行。
山頂，是我向時間發出的邀請函。
“你快，還是趕不上早行的人；
你慢，照舊拖不住落日的腳步”
在龍架山，我用一小時交換山的高度
又用三十分鐘，把它歸還。
Mountain Climbing
Time has its own steps.
We travelled together,
And the top of the mountain was an invitation I sent time.
“Moving fast, you can’t catch up with the early climbers;
Moving slowly, you can’t hold the footsteps of the sunset.”
At Longjia Mountain, I traded one hour for its height,
And thirty minutes for its return.
大海記
我想用一座鐘來模仿時間；用一艘船，來模仿大海。
此刻，我感覺不到時針和分針的跳動，只有秒針在不斷撞擊
夜幕下的海。
……空蕩，寂靜。但顛簸的船
透漏了海的秘密：每一滴水，都在咬緊牙關。
大海的盡頭是什么？
在大連到青島的旅途中，我想到一本書：《悲劇的誕生》
時間是萬物的神。像風暴始于海的中央
我的每一次旅行都始于神的召喚。
The Sea
I wanted to imitate time with a clock, and the sea with a ship.
At the moment, I couldn’t feel the beatsof the hour and minute hands, but the constant striking of the second hand
On the sea at night.
... Empty, andsilent. But the rolling ship
Revealed the secret of the sea: every drop of waterwas gritting its teeth.
What’s at the end of the sea?
On the journey from Dalian to Qingdao, I thought of a book: The Birth of Tragedy.
Time is the god of all. As a storm startsin the middle of the sea,
Each of my journeys starts with a call from God.
煙
點上一根煙，我就要經過村莊
這個村莊，也正在升起一縷炊煙。
一根煙的功夫，村莊被汽車拋下
我想：在一縷煙的地方，我呆了不到一根煙的時間。
一根煙熄滅的時候，一縷煙是不是還在飄蕩？
我這樣想的時候，已是很多年后了。
我仍然記得這個無名的村莊
因兩種毫無關系的煙，竟有一種說不清楚的親近。
Smoke
Lighting a cigarette, I was to pass by the village,
Where a wisp of smokewas rising.
The moment the cigarette wasfinished, the village had beenleft behind by the car.
I talked to myself: in a place where a wisp of smoke is rising, I stayed for so short a whilefor me to finish only one cigarette.
Was the smoke still floating when the cigarette went out?
It’s years later when I wondered this way.
I still remember this unknown village
To which I feel subtlyconnected because of two unrelated smokes.
苔蘚
在一塊石壁上著床，無根無莖無花，
甚至連影子也沒有。
我的愛是模糊的，像一片苔蘚，
分不出你與你們。
一株植物愛著渺小，我愛著一片蒼茫。
漂泊的人，收割了眼前的風景；
隨遇而安的草，卻種下時間。
“混沌是簡單的，盲目是高級的，死亡是假的”
一顆石頭，因一片苔蘚的侵入
而有了愛與悲憫。
Moss
Growing on a rock wall, it’s rootless, stemless, flowerless,
And even shadowless.
My love is vague, like a piece of moss,
Unable to tell the singular youfrom the plural you.
A plant lovestininess, while I love vastness.
Wandering peoplereap the scenery in sight;
While happy-go-lucky grass plants time.
“Chaos is simple, blindness is advanced, and death is false.”
A stoneinvaded by a piece of moss
Is infused withlove and compassion.
對視
他坐在一把椅子上看我
那時他多么年輕啊
他還不會抽煙，不會戀愛，不會害怕
青春多美好啊，有那么多不會。
我慢騰騰向煙缸澆了幾口水
其實，也可以讓它自生自滅吧？
他一定看不慣我猶豫不決的樣子
更不會知道：當一切慢下來，當衰老來臨
我的身體，竟有幾分順從。
再過十年，他還在那把椅子上
我在哪兒呢？
誰會知道這茫然的一瞥
包含多少無意義的愛——
我一直死心塌地，活在一個人的空白處。
Looking at Each Other
Sitting in a chair, he was looking at me
How young he was then
He couldn’tsmoke, love, orfear
How beautiful youth was, and there was so muchhe hadn’t learned yet.
I slowly poured some water into the ashtray
In fact, I could leave it alone?
He must have frowned upon my indecision
What he didn’t know was: when everything slows down, andagingis approaching
My body isunexpectedly somewhat obedient.
Ten years from now, he’ll still be in that chair
Where will I be?
Who would have known how much meaningless love
The blank glance contained —
I’ve always lived in a person’s blank space, deadly dedicated.
我經過一個像教堂一樣的橋洞
我經過一個
像教堂一樣的橋洞
廊柱瘦高，穹頂尖圓
我發現教堂和橋，做著同樣的事情
渡人。一個渡來世，一個渡今生
可我從沒見過，一座像橋一樣的教堂
橋上的人交出人間，橋下的人交出天堂
他們相互穿過——
兩條不同的路。像一個流動的十字架
一條是愛，另一條是救贖
I Pass a Churchlike Arch of a Bridge
I pass a
Churchlike arch of a bridge
With slender and high pillars, and sharp and round apex
I findwhat churches and bridges do is the same
To save man,one in their afterlife, and the other, in their present life
But I’ve never seen a bridge-like church
People on the bridge surrender the human world, while those under it surrender heaven
They shuttle through each other —
Two different roads, makewhat is like a moving cross
One is love, and the other is redemption
維納斯
一個神住進石頭，一個神走出石頭，
一把刀是最后的審判者。
忍受煙火的熏烤，也忍受
銀行家，藝術家，政客們，母親們，男人們
再補上一刀。
寬衣解帶，袒胸露乳，
在她面前，有多少人嗷嗷待哺？
只有斷掉的雙臂時刻在提醒：
她是一顆石頭
在人間出生，必經歷人間磨難。
Venus
One god lives in stone, another god walks out of stone,
And a knife is the final judge.
Bearing the fume of smoke, and
Cuts made by
Bankers, artists, politicians, mothers, and men
Stripped off and topless,
How many starving creaturesdoes she have to feed?
It isher broken arms that keepreminding:
As a stone
Born in the human world, she must experience sufferingsthere.
這是無法治愈的大海
大海不停地放大悲傷。
它把傷口縫上，又撕開……
在石老人海灘，我看見黑暗中的海，
細成了一條白線。畫上，又涂掉。
這是無法治愈的大海，海岸已
無數次寬恕了對方。
當我從海邊歸來，我仍堅持它未知的部分，
那躍出鯨魚的風暴的中心。
大海仍左沖右突，卻無法掙脫
大地的牢籠。
This Was the Incurable Sea
The sea keptmagnifying its sadness.
It sewed and tore its wounds...
At Stone Old Man Beach, I saw the sea in the dark
Became a thin white line, painted, and then blotted out.
It was the incurable sea that had been
Forgiven by the shore a million times.
When returning from the sea, I still adhered to its unknown part,
The center of the storm where the whale leaped out.
Rushing in all directions, the sea could not break free
From the earth’s cage.
向日葵
我愛萬物飽滿，
愛金黃。
愛堅挺，厚實，愛她因亢奮
所呈現的弧度。
我也愛她的根莖，
愛背光面，集結養分的隊列。
愛萬有引力，
愛她發育后低垂的乳房。
我愛光明，但不是太陽。
我也愛黑暗中的礦工，為挖出更多的煤
不得不佝僂著身子。
The Sunflower
I love the plumpness of all things,
I love gold.
I love their strength, thickness
And radiansbecause of excitement
I love as well her root,
Shady sides, and queues gathering nutrients.
I love gravitation,
And her drooping breasts afterdevelopment.
I love light rather than the sun.
I also love the miners in the dark, who have to lean forward
To dig out more coal
蘆花
今夜我不寫蘆花。
不寫雪，也不寫天空中
盤旋的大雁。
我寫坐在蜜蜂湖
不辭而別的人。寫他掏空的肉身
一夜白頭，像經幡。
一支蘆花替我活著
背山面水，飽讀人間的浩瀚。
The Reed Flower
I won’t write about reed flowers tonight.
Neither will I write about snow, or the circling wild geese
In the sky
I’ll write about the person who sat at Bee Lake
And left without saying goodbye. I’ll write about his hollowed flesh
And his hair getting gray overnight, like prayer flags.
A reed flower lives on behalf of me
Leaning againstthe mountain and facing the water, reading throughthe vast world.
蝴蝶蘭
一株草收留了迷途的蝴蝶
它的羽翼，剛好覆蓋一朵花的邊沿。
蝴蝶蘭，當我寫下你的名字
萬籟俱寂。春天流下了
第一滴淚水。
自然的主啊，
請在我手臂上種植青苔
在我耳朵下生長貝殼
請給我裝上麋鹿的眼睛、綿羊的心。
“或許，萬物曾開啟嫁接功能”
我的幸福是：世界之美，遠超我的想象
而你，卻對此一無所知。
Phalaenopsis
A grass harbored a stray butterfly
Whose wings just cover the edge of a flower.
Phalaenopsis, when I write your name
The silence is perfect, and down comes the first tear
Of the spring
Lord of nature,
Please plant moss on my arm
And grow shells under my ears
Please fit me with an elk’s eyes and a sheep’s heart.
“Perhaps, all things were grantedengrafting availability”
My happiness is: the beauty of the world, is far beyond my imagination
And you, know nothing about it.
青花瓷
給我，你的手。
撫摸我，
讓我柔軟，而不崩塌。
我將感到，
空虛，
有現實的肋骨。
時間是巨大的容器，
我從一朵隱忍的花中，
找到出口。
一棵草帶著隔世的露水，
一條出土的魚，
如泥海，無法鳧渡。
我將懷念秋水一樣纏綿的淬火，
它曾怎樣吻我戰栗的身體？
且容我以你為父，
你只需一座山，
安放落日。
Blue-and-white Porcelain
Give me, your hand.
Touch me,
And soften me,without breaking me down.
I shall feel
Emptiness
Has subsistent ribs.
Time isa huge vessel,
And from a forbearing flower,
I find the exit.
A grass carries the dew of a lifetime ago,
And an unearthed fish,
Can’t escape from what seems like a sea of mud.
I will miss the quenchas lingering as the autumn water.
How did it kiss my trembling body?
Please allow me to regard you as my father.
All you need is a mountain,
To settle the sun.
不存在的雨
一坨落下來，又一坨落下來……
我聽到牛糞落地的聲音
有尚未消盡的草料味。
無邊的空曠牽著牠
一頭牛為什么必須走在夜里？
一定存在著兩種現實：
一種是存在的現實，一種是不存在的現實。
今夜，我一直在等下一坨，下一坨……
好像時間，屬于一場不存在的雨。
The Rain That DoesNot Exist
A lump fell down, and another lump fell down...
I hear cow dung falling to the ground
With a lingering smell of grass.
The immensity of emptiness leads him
Why does a cow have to walk at night?
There must be two realities:
One that exists, and the otherthat does not exist.
Tonight, I’ve been waiting for the next, and the next lump...
As if timebelonged to a rain that does not exist.
她們代表全部的孤獨和一部分的我
我一直在過剩下的時光
剩下的黃昏，剩下的照耀，剩下的晚餐
人也是剩下的
父親走后，母親是剩下的。
霍金說：如果沒有外力，事物總是向更無序發展。
我常想：這個外力是上帝嗎？
這樣的追問，耗盡了剩下的悲傷。
當我走后，剩下整個世界，剩下大海和星空
也剩下孟姜女河，剩下兩個女兒
她們代表全部的孤獨和一部分的我。
They Represent All the Loneliness and Part of Me
I’ve been spending what is left in my life
The dusk, the light, and the dinner
And there are people that are left
Aftermy father passed away, my mother makeswhat is left.
Hawking said: If there is no external force, things will always develop into disorder.
I often wonder: is this external force God?
Such questioning, has exhausted the rest of my sadness.
When I am gone, what are left will bethe whole world, the sea and the stars
Meng Jiangnu River and my two daughters
They represent all my loneliness and part of me.
月亮
若干年后，我還會不會想起這月圓之夜？
那年她7歲，躺在屋頂的平臺上看月亮
我們不停背誦月亮的詩
如同幫一個行將失憶之人
努力記住親人的名字
孤月高懸。在故鄉
我沒有理由憂傷，也沒有理由心慌
但我心跳加速，已超過那幸福的誦讀聲
今夜她獨在異鄉。我想起那晚的月亮
似乎已全部擁有，又仿佛已全部失去
The Moon
Will I still think of this full moon night years from now?
She was 7 years old. Lying on the roof terrace and looking at the moon
We kept reciting poems about it
As if helping a man who’s on the verge of losing memory
To remember the names of his loved ones
The lonely moon was hanging high. In my hometown
I had no reason to feel sad, or upset
But my heart beat faster than our happy recitation
Tonight she is alone in a foreign place. I remember the moon that night
I seem to have had it all, or lostit at all otherwise
中英文對照詩集?第二輯?天鵝之死
Chinese and English Poetry Collection ? PartTwo?The Death of a Swan
天鵝之死
有人聽到翅膀折斷的聲音
但它并沒有墜落
靠著沸騰的血
它的頭顱又上升了幾公分
它已經在聚光燈下
死過很多次
它的脖頸拉長后撕裂
癱倒在泥土中
它不愿意——
像一個人那樣死去
今夜月亮在清洗它的傷口
它的痛苦和它的驕傲一樣多
它拒絕進食，甚至一滴水
看來，它要把自己消耗殆盡——
它要讓自己輕起來
像一片羽毛，在飛翔中死去
The Death of a Swan
Someone heard the sound of itswings breaking
But it didn’t fall
Thanks to its boiling blood
Its head rose by a few centimeters
It had already died dozens of times
In the spotlight
Its neck stretched and torn
It collapsed in the dirt
It hated—
To die like a human being
The moon is cleaning its wounds tonight
The pain it suffered was as much as the pride it took
Refusing to eating anything, even a drop of water
It’s likely toexhaust itself —
To make itself light enough
Like a feather, and die in its flight
黃昏
黃昏從一個女人開始。她倚著樓墻
打電話，吐煙圈
照耀過阿赫瑪托娃靈魂的陽光
在照耀她
她不會注意，一輛緩緩駛過的列車
正搬運憂傷。一兩個完整的煙圈
抵消不了黃昏的沉重感
莫斯科的太陽就要落下
像從電話的另一端，被隨手掐斷
Dusk
Dusk begins with a woman, leaning against the wall of the building
Talking on the phone, and blowing smoke rings
The sun that shone on Akhmatova’s soul
Is shining on her
She can’t notice a slowly passing train
Carrying sadness. One or two full smoke rings
Can’t offset the heaviness of dusk
The sun is setting over Moscow
As if cut off randomly, from the other end of the phone
白樺林
憂傷說來就來。像白樺林
杵在一片原野上
像月光不會拐彎
撞在白樺林的枝葉上
像一灘水銀
在她胸間晃動
The Birch Wood
So easily, has my sadness come. Like the birch wood
Standing alone in a field
Like the moon that can’t bend
Bumping into the birch branches
And like a pool of mercury
Danglingin her breasts
詩人之死? 致普希金
末日似乎已來臨
美德和邪惡都在敲死神之門
爐火邊，美麗的女人還在打盹
一輛馬車疾馳在大雪紛飛的路上
他摘掉頭上的帽子，像寒風
摘掉白樺樹的樹冠
像一首死亡之詩，摘掉了修辭——
槍響的時候，駕車人跳下顛簸的馬車
而太陽還要趕著它策馬向前
（普希金，俄羅斯詩歌的太陽，1837年，普希金因維護妻子名譽，與人決斗而死，年僅38歲。）
The Death of a Poet? To Pushkin
Doomsday seemedto have come
Both virtue and vice were knocking at the door of death
The beautiful woman still dozing by the fire
And awagon galloping down the snowy road
He took off his hat, like the cold wind
Removed the crown of a silver birch
And like a poemof death removedits rhetoric —
The driver jumped out of the jolting carriage when the gun went off
And the sun would drive it on
(Pushkin, the sun of Russian poetry, died in a duel to defend his wife’s honor at the age of 38 in 1837.)
詩人之死?致葉賽寧
讓我們并排坐下
像白樺林的葉片一樣，手挽著手
如果有酒，先敬月色
是它把我們的家鄉連成一片
從高加索到圣彼得堡
我們騎著玫瑰色的快馬
然后敬天下的眾生，生生不息
養育鄉間小路上的燈火
在打谷場過夜的異鄉人，我也敬你
黎明時分，蘋果花的薄霧上
有家鄉的味道
讓我們并排坐下，倚著簡陋的墓地
你不必心慌，也不必羞怯
就像心愛的姑娘家
我們遲早都要去那里做客
（葉賽寧，俄羅斯田園派詩人，憂郁而多情，1925年在列寧格勒的一家旅館投繯自盡，年僅30歲）
The Death of a Poet ? To Yesenin
Let’s sit side by side
Like leaves in a birch wood, hand in hand
If there is wine, first to the moon
Who binds our hometowns together
From the Caucasus to St. Petersburg
We ride fast rose-colored horses
Then to all the endlessliving beings in the world
Breedingthe lights along the country roads
And to the stranger spending nightson the threshing-floor
At dawn, the mist between apple blossoms
Smells of home
Let’s sit side by side, against the humble cemetery
You needn’t be flustered, or timid
It’s just like a beloved girl’s house
Where we’llbothbe guests sooner or later
(Yesenin, a melancholic and amorous Russian pastoral poet, hanged himself in a hotel in Leningrad at the age of 30in 1925.)
詩人之死?致萊蒙托夫
是一束看不見的火
誰點燃，誰就是桂冠上的王
咒語和頌詞，都趕著馬車朝拜
而誰見過，我在一首詩中發出死亡的禱告？
我無須隱忍，靈魂和軀體的決斗
這不是熱愛，也不是拒絕
像大海藏起它的波浪
像草原涌來它的牛羊
像愛她的美貌一樣愛她的輕浮
我在風暴的中央，也在寧靜的邊緣
我愛它的永恒也愛它的短暫
我有大片糧倉，依然低頭去撿一棵稻穗
（萊蒙托夫，普希金之后俄羅斯最偉大詩人，1841年，和退伍少校馬丁諾夫決斗而死，年僅27歲。）
The Death of a Poet ? To Lermontov
It’s an invisible fire
Whoever lights it is the king of laurel
Worshiped by spells and eulogies with wagons
And who, has ever seen me utter a death prayer in a poem?
I don’t have to endure a duel between soul and body
It’s neither passion nor rejection
Like the sea hiding its waves
Like the prairie tiding its cattle and sheep
Like loving her frivolity as much as her beauty
I’m in the center of the storm and on the edge of the calmness
I love its permanence as much as its transience
Having a large area of granary, I still bow to pick up a stalk of rice
(Lermontov, Russia’s greatest poet after Pushkin, died in a duel with retired Major Martynov at the age of 27in 1841.)
詩人之死?致茨維塔耶娃
所有的樹木都是女人
我是生長在密林中
荊棘一樣的女人
你吻我，就會失去我
我愛野桃花一樣盛開的苦
也愛男人們，從荊棘叢中采出的蜜
愛是分離嗎？我要的是
一次次分離
我等待愛已太久
我等待大海已太久
我等待刀劍已太久
但我的身邊只有一條繩索
（茨維塔耶娃，俄羅斯最偉大詩人之一，一生孤傲、貧窮，生前女兒被捕，丈夫被槍決，1941年8月自縊身亡，年49歲）
The Death of a Poet ? To Tsvetaeva
All trees are women
I’m a thorn-like woman
Growing in a dense forest
Kiss me, and you’ll lose me
I love the pain blossoming like wild peach flowers
I love the men collecting honey from thorns
Is love what separation means? What I want is
To separate again and again
I’ve been waiting too long for love
I’ve been waiting too long for the sea
I’ve been waiting too long for knife andsword
But there is only one rope beside me
(Tsvetaeva, one of Russia’s greatest poets, lived a proud and poor life. Her daughter was arrested and her husband was shot. She hanged herself at the age of 49in August 1941.)
詩人之死?致西爾維亞?普拉斯
夢中的美人，你在和死亡調情？
一次，又一次
你挑亮死亡的燈芯
在冬天的湖邊裸體騎馬
美人，我稱你為紙上的王
文字統治疾病，愛駕馭死亡
而我也是你的愛人——
在詩歌的大床上如此縱欲
像一個詞糾纏另外一個
像身體進入身體，塵埃貼近塵埃
“我們從遙遠的地方來，現在到了”
草木依然消瘦，月亮照舊無常
我把你疊進自己的身體
我因你，而愛上死亡
在另一座城市，我們如此陌生
我為什么愛你？
夜深的時候，凌晨的時候
美人自殘的呼叫打濕每一頁鋪開的紙張
美人啊，推開門窗，星光照耀……
（西爾維亞?普拉斯，美國自白派詩人，終生被傷痛靈魂與迷亂心智所折磨，飽受精神夢魘摧殘，1963年以自殺結束了悲傷的生命，年僅31歲）
The Death of a Poet ? To Sylvia Plath
Beauty in my dreams, are you flirting with death?
Again and again
Lighting the wick of death
You’re riding naked by a lake in winter
Beauty, I call you the queenon paper
Words rule diseases, and love reins death
And I, also your lover —
Am so indulgent on the bed of poetry
Like a word pestering another
Abody penetrating another, and a dust pressing another
“We come from far away, and here we are.”
The grass is still thin, and the moon still fickle
I fold you into my body
I fall in love with death, because of you
In another city, we are so strangeto each other
Why do I love you?
Late at night, and early in the morning
The beauty’s cries of self-mutilation wetevery spread page
Beauty, open the door, and have the starsshiningdown on you...
(Sylvia Plath, an American confessional poet, was tormented by a troubled soul and a confused mindall her life. Tortured by mental nightmares, she committed suicide at the age of 31in 1963.)
伊瓜蘇瀑布
這經書太長。瀑布大聲的朗誦
讓我想起永不停止的事物
像時間不需加油
它們前撲后續，奔赴同樣的前程
如果只是一條河，或早已被人間忽略
它的動力是亞馬遜，有無限長……
我不愿無休止想下去
我已遠離伊瓜蘇。在中國
我還是習慣有始有終
一想到它們停不下來
我就心懷絕望
好像那匆匆崩落的流水就是我
那不斷轟鳴的經書就是我
那永無寧日的深淵就是我
Iguazu Falls
The sacred book is too long. The loud readingof the waterfalls
Reminds me of what never ceases
Like time that does not need refueling
Rushing forward one after another, they head for the same future
Should it besimply a river, it might long be ignored by the world
Powered by the Amazon, it is infinitely long...
I don’t want to dwell on it
Far from Iguazu, and in China
I’m still used to finishing what I start
The moment I think of their ceaselessness
I feel desperate
As if the rushing water were me
The incessantly roaring bookwere me
And the abyss where there will never be days of peace were me
從一杯咖啡中回家
喝了酒。一杯咖啡
讓她冷靜下來。
從苦澀中學習采奶的技藝，
她的幸福是撫摸。
一杯咖啡剛騰空三分之一，
優雅與虛無交換了位置。
被浪費的部分，
像她荒蕪的身體
保持著黃金分割的比例。
她起身告辭，
加入一縷乳香的隊列。
波西米亞的披肩
像一片落葉又回到美麗的樹上。
Going Home from a Cup of Coffee
Having drunk some wine, she was sedated
By a cup of coffee.
Learning the art of milking from the bitter,
She found happiness from stroking.
A cup of coffee about one-third empty,
Elegance and nothingness have swapped places.
What’s wasted,
Like her barren body
Maintained the golden ratio.
She got up to say goodbye,
Joining a line of frankincense.
Her Bohemian shawl
Like a fallen leaf, returned to a beautiful tree.
漫長的婚約
在一場電影的中間部分
我睡著了
醒來的時候
女人正脫去裙子
和一個陌生人上床
我沒有詫異
歷史采取了倒敘的手法
她們的老公
被驅至兩軍交戰的中間地帶
像一場電影中睡著的部分
被無情地忽略
漫長的婚約
一點也不覺得漫長
一場戰爭
無論多么煎熬
也只有短短的90分鐘
The Prolonged Engagement
In the middle of a movie
I fell asleep
When I woke up
The woman was taking off her skirt
To sleep with a stranger
It didn’t catch me by surprise
History worked in reverse
Their husbands
Were driven to the middle zone between two armies
Like my sleep during the movie
Wasruthlessly ignored
Theprolonged engagement
Was not long at all
Howevertorturous
It was
The war lastedno more than 90 minutes
一部電影為什么不能有完美結局
一開始就錯了？
15歲的女主角與她的同學，
在車上云雨。
真正的男主角更像配角，
嬰兒，童年，少年
三個演員接力，來證明
他的無辜。
他們過得糟糕，
卻沒人覺得是個錯誤。
當她抱住兒子，更像一個姐姐
“你不是困擾，是永遠的救贖”
這是一部電影的結局部分，
大雪覆蓋了山谷，最先融化的
是通往異鄉的車轍。
Why a Movie Can’t Have a Happy Ending
Wrong from the very beginning?
The 15-year-old heroine and one of her boy classmates
Were making love in a car.
The real hero, more like a supporting role,
Was played successively
By three actors
To provehis innocence.
They had a bad time,
But nobody thought ita mistake.
When hugging her son, she was more like a sister
“You’re not a trouble, but a salvation forever.”
Itwas the end of the movie.
The valley covered by snow, what first melted
Werethe ruts leading to foreign land.
初吻
一朵云趴在大地上
光禿禿的山頂還在向上生長
遠處看，山和云糾纏不清
我想到一部剛剛看過的法國電影
16歲的蘇菲?瑪索
把頭埋進小情人的懷中
她的媽媽在約會德語老師
她的牙醫爸爸
在大雨中修復家庭
這一切，都與她無關
她只是個演員
只負責把裙子撐得飽滿
讓巴黎的每一個地方
學校，教堂，車站，家庭舞會
都埋下荷爾蒙的炸彈
今天這朵云也穿著白色裙子
我在想一個剛剛見過的人
不久將有雨水之歡
First Kiss
A cloud lyingprone on the earth
And the bare mountaintop still growing upwards
From a distance, theyare entangled with each other
I think of a French movie I’ve just seen
16-year-old Sophie Marceau
Buried her head in her little lover’s arms
Her mother was dating her German teacher
And her father, a dentist
Was healing family relations in the heavy rain
None of these had anything to do with her
She’s simply an actress
Trying to fill out the dress
And plant hormone bombs
In schools, churches, bus stops, family parties
And every other place in Paris
Today the cloud also wears a white dress
I’m thinking that a person I just met
Will soon be enjoying the pleasure of a date
中英文對照詩集?第三輯?我已習慣了悲傷
Chinese and English Poetry Collection ? PartThree ?I’ve BeenUsed to Feeling Sad
我已習慣了悲傷
春天在冬天的舊址上，大興土木
類似女人們，在同一具身體上
制造不同的化學反應。
我常常想：美是有罪的
從高聳的山尖到垮塌的谷地
它為什么那么短暫？
我已習慣了悲傷：
萬物都在重復，只有死亡不會。
I’ve BeenUsed to Feeling Sad
Spring is busy with its building work on the ruins of winter
Which is similar to women’ making different chemical reactions
On the same body
I often think: beauty is sinful
From the towering hilltop to the crumbling valley
Why is it so fleeting?
I’ve been used to feeling sad:
Everything repeats itself, except death.
萬物生
三月的桃花開了
再過幾天，櫻花也要開。
上個春天沒想明白的
這個春天，要再想一遍。
臘梅已卸掉身上的黃金
萬物，有從容之美。
你看：毛毛蟲正模仿一片樹葉
枯萎的草尖上也有露水
它被我踩下去，又仰起頭
像一個老年人，捋一捋花白的胡須。
Growth
The peach blossoms are in bloom in March
Andso will the cherry blossomsin a few days.
Whatever wasn’t figured out last spring
Will be thought about again this spring.
Wintersweettrees have taken offgold
And all things are of composed beauty.
Look: a caterpillar is imitating a leaf
And there is dew on the tip of the withered grass
Which bends down under my feet and raisesits head again
Like an old manstroking his gray beard.
藏匿的老虎
枕頭上的猛獸，從來不下山。
一片金黃壓倒的山林，
要到秋天才能復原。
我能想到的寧靜是這樣的：
坐上一列火車，穿過黑暗的山洞。
The Hidden Tiger
The beast on the pillow never comes down the hill.
A forest overwhelmed by gold,
Won’t be back until autumn.
The serenity I can imagine is like this:
Get on a train and go through a dark tunnel.
詩人
他在事物的表面上涂漆，
完全忽略了
衰老才是萬物的本質。
西山是一個不錯的比喻
“它永遠夾在我和落日之間”
有人說：硬不起來是悲哀的
他的悲哀是不覺得硬不起來是悲哀的，
找不到一個硬不起來的形容詞，
才是悲哀的。
The Poet
He paints the surface of things,
Completely ignoring
Aging is the essence of all.
The Western Hillis a good metaphor
“It’s always between me and the sunset.”
It’s said:failing to get a hard-on makes one sad
What makes him sad is that he doesn’t thinkfailing to get a hard-on makes one sad
And whatmakes one sad
Is that he can’t find an adjective to describe this failure
新年
我把自己裝進
一杯一杯的忘情水
一朵一朵的花蕊
一個又一個新年
我愛這塵世的反復
不想一下子結束
所以我愛著
一截一截的死亡
New Year
I put myself
Inone cup of forgetting-love waterafter another
In oneflower bud after another
And in oneNew Year after another
Loving the repetition of this world so much
I don’t want it to come to an end all at once
So I love
One piece of deathafter another
畫家
一張白紙
并不是空白
滴上一滴墨，空就是白了
但白的地方還不是空
在空白處落款
并不是說空白處
什么都沒有
有時盛滿虛無
有時溢出憂傷
The Painter
A blank piece of paper
Does not suggestpure blank
When it is stained with ink, the blank part is white
But the white part is not blank yet
A signatureon the blank
Does not mean
Complete emptiness
Sometimes it’sfilled with nothingness
Sometimes it overflowswith sadness
流水
我想以一截水管，
比喻我的存在。
當我流過，水管空空如也。
如果其他的水，也流過同樣的一截
我們或許有相似的一生。
我們從未謀面，卻患上
共同的憂傷。
Running Water
I’d like to compare my existence
To a piece of water pipe.
When I flow past, the pipe is empty.
If other water runs through the same piece
We may have similar lives.
We’ve never met, and yet
We share the same sorrow.
我與月亮的摩擦
我與月亮的摩擦，
一定生成了某些古老的物質。
蠱。或者酒。神秘的潮汐。
它撞擊我的軀體，
但思想才是它的堤岸。
我有短暫的迷惑，這迷惑周而復始。
憂傷不曾讓我屈服，
也不曾讓我清醒。
當我凝視她的乳房，它像月亮一樣
皎潔。也像月亮一樣野蠻。
My Friction with the Moon
My friction with the moon,
Must have generated something ancient.
Voodoo. Orwine. Mysterious tide.
It strikes my body,
But thought makes its bank.
I have a momentary confusion that goes round and round.
Sadness has not worn me down,
Nor has it cleared me up.
When I gaze at her breast, it’s as bright
As the moon, and as savage as the moon.
一株植物的性感部分
一株植物并不會掩飾，
它仍然充滿欲望。
我不是唯一的發現者——
當蜜蜂像人一樣攀爬另一具軀體，
一朵花暴露它隱秘的性器。
我能想到細微的振顫，
如何進化了一株植物的愛情。
“這是最艷的花，也是最美的乳房”
我無意的撥弄，都在一株植物內部
發起溫柔的風暴
The Sexy Part of a Plant
A plant does not hide,
It’s still full of desire.
I’m not the only discoverer—
When a bee climbs on another body like a human,
A flower reveals its secret sex organs.
I can conceivehow a little tremor
Evolves a plant’s love.
“These are the most beautiful flowers, and the most beautiful breasts as well.”
My unintendedfiddle can launch a gentle storm
Inside a plant
西行
桂林站到了。我看見一個一個的小山包
冒出來。像廢棄的乳房，突然恢復了記憶。
下一站就到貴州了。火車要不停地向上攀爬
因為荒蕪，就盤踞在我的頭頂。
Traveling West
The train pulled into Guilin Station. I saw one hill after another
Come out, like memories of abandoned breastssuddenly came back to them.
The next was Guizhou Station. The train had to climb up and up
Asdesolationwas entrenched over my head.
孟姜女河
被拉直的孟姜女河
像個做錯事的孩子，低頭不語。
馮老二舉起羊鞭，將羊群趕出了歷史
少了蘆葦，毛毛根，馬齒菜的河堤
像少了父母和炊煙的村莊……
在孟姜女河東岸，邊段莊一側
我已找不到通往河邊的小路
這路上有多少泥濘，就有多少幸福的秘密。
后來人，再也不會對著一條河憂傷了
一條沒有關節的河，再也不會疼痛。
Meng Jiangnu River
The straightened Meng Jiangnu River
Is like a child who has done something wrong and hangs his head in silence.
Feng Lao’er raised his whip and drove the sheep out of history
The river bank without reeds, hairy roots, andpurslane
Is equal to a village without parents and smoke...
At one side of Bianduan Village, alongthe east bank of Meng Jiangnu River
I can’t find a path toward the river
The amount of mud on the path, is proportional to the amount of happy secret.
The newcomers will no longer feel sad when faced with a river
A river without joints will no longer feel pain.
鳥巢
……并沒有鳥住進來。
對于一只鳥來說
行道樹上，人工搭建的金屬鳥巢
只是個形象的比喻。
像一個死去的人，也有一個名字
你呼叫，卻無人應答。
但你不能說，形式是沒有意義的
那些閑置的空中樓閣
讓我在這個下午，不停地仰望。
The Bird’s Nest
... No birds live there.
For a bird
A man-made metal nest in a street tree
Is nothing but a vivid metaphor.
Like a dead man with a name
No answer to your call, though.
But you can’t say that form makes no sense
Those idle castles in the air
Keep me looking up this afternoon.
陌生
這只鳥我叫不上名字。
我肯定很多次，
見過這種鳥，
說不定也見過眼前的這只。
我說不出，
它是它還是同類中的它？
它沒有在草叢中刨食，
也沒有在樹枝上鳴叫，
它只是晃了晃腦袋，
嗖一聲飛走了。
Strangeness
I can’t name the bird.
I’m sure for many times
I’ve seen birds of this kind
Maybe including this one.
I can’t tell
It isthe very one,or just oneof them?
Instead of scratching in grass,
Or singing in branches,
Itsimply shook its head,
And flew away with a whoosh.
黃果樹瀑布
究竟是水珠織成的簾子
還是水線紡成的布？
都與一棵樹無關
當它站起來，有了令人仰望的高度
早已忘了它的名字——白水河
Huangguoshu Waterfall
A curtain made of water droplets
Or a piece of fabric made of waterline?
Neither has anything to do with a tree
When standing up, and having a height for others to look up to
It has forgotten its name —White Water River
飛花令
飛花是一場美的動員。
意味著一片玉米林，劫持另一片玉米林。
想起年少時，我做過兩朵花的信使
身體裝滿了顫抖的花粉。
有一種繁衍驚天動地，
我愛過它的短暫，也愛過它的鮮艷。
現在我熱衷于飛花令，在一株株植物間
傳遞幸福的信念。
蒲公英，野茼蒿，芨芨草，都被我起了新的名字
它們是我的父母兄弟。
A Prayer for Flying Flowers
The flying of flowers is a mobilization of beauty,
Meaning one corn forest hijacking another one.
It occurs to me when I was young, I acted as the messenger of two flowers
With my body filled with quivering pollen
There wasanearthshattering multiplication,
Whose brevity and brightness I loved so much.
NowI’m keen on the game of flyingflower, spreadinghappy beliefs
From plant to plant
I’ve renamed dandelion, wild chrysanthemum chrysanthemum, and splendens splendens,
All of whom are my parents and brothers.
中英文對照詩集?第四輯?我把自己比喻為一枚去年的核桃
Chinese and English Poetry Collection ? PartFour ?I Compare Myself to a Walnut of Last Year
我把自己比喻為一枚去年的核桃
去年不遠，隔著一座空山
脫了青皮，味道還濃郁
一枚核桃，被遺棄在山上
鳥兒啄不破它，陽光曬不爆它
樹木茂盛，秋風也不能把它吹下山去
它與腐葉為伴，空有滿腹的香氣
我把自己比喻為一枚去年的核桃
堅硬、丑陋，被丟在人間
風把我們雕刻的越來越相似
就像山上的野墳，已分不出彼此
I Compare Myself to a Walnut of Last Year
Last year was simply an empty mountain away
With its green skin off, andits smell still strong
A walnut was abandoned on a mountain
Birds can’t peck it, and the sun can’t burn it
The branches so thick, the autumn wind can’t blow it down
Accompanied by rotting leaves, its fragrance makes no sense
I compare myself to the walnut of last year
Hard, ugly and alone in this world
We are sculpted more and more alike by the wind
Like two tombs on the hill, no one can tell one from the other
我還是懷念老式的收割
一片玉米林荒在了田里，
枯黃的葉子在秋風中，發出窸窣的聲響。
一片被遺棄的玉米林，讓秋天有了挫敗的感覺。
種下它的人，像對待一個捐尸的死刑犯
只摘除了有用的器官。
我還是懷念老式的收割——
男人們揮舞鐮刀，將它們一排排放倒
孩子們剝下金黃的棒子，而女人們
把一摞摞玉米桿統統抱上車
田野空蕩，他們搬回了全部的秋天。
I Still Miss the Old-fashioned Harvest
A grove of corn lay desolate in the field,
The withered yellow leaves rustling in the autumn wind.
An abandoned corn grove gave autumn a sense of defeat.
Treatingit like a death row donator, the person who planted it
Only removedits useful organs.
I still miss the old-fashioned harvest—
Men swung sickles and brought them down in rows
Children peeled off the golden husks, and women
Carried all the corn stalks to the carts
The fields empty, they carried the whole autumn back.
龍架山上的杉樹
是它引來風暴，
當它成為自己的懸崖。
一個恐高的人，當他仰望，
一生都無法達到的高度，
第一次為一棵樹動了惻隱之心。
它枝短葉瘦，戴著與挺拔不成比例的帽子，
內心也秉承極簡的紋理。
無數個飛沙走石的夜晚，
他總會想起龍架山上與風搏命的杉樹
它只有一條路可走，大道朝天。
The Fir Tree on Longjia Mountain
It brings the storm,
When it becomes its own cliff.
An acrophobic looks up
At what is more than he could reach in a lifetime,
And for the first time, his heart goes out to a tree
With short branches, thin leaves, a hat out of proportion to its height,
And a heart adhering to the minimalist texture.
For many nightsof dust and stone flying as in storm,
He would always think of the fir treefighting against the windon Longjia Mountain
It has only one way to go, an upward way.
黃河古道
秋風再也掀不起巨浪
我稀疏的頭發，像揭竿而起的旗
獵獵作響
黃河——黃河，黃河在咆哮
站在黃河古道，我變身滄浪之水
這段河堤再無需加固
黃河選擇了更溫順的河床
河灘上寸草不生
像遺世情人
要長出苞谷還要假以時日
The Ancient Yellow River
The autumn wind could no longer lift the waves
Like a rise-up flag, my thin hair
Was fluttering
The Yellow River — the Yellow River, the Yellow River, was roaring
Standing by the ancient Yellow River, I became part of the wavy water
It was unnecessary to reinforce this section of the embankment
The Yellow River chose a tamer bed
Nothing grew on the beach
Which made it a lover-like relic
It would take time for the corn to come up
秋日
秋天鋪開她的遠大
給眼前的苞谷，遠處的核桃，看不見的金錢豹
喂養秋風
秋日慈悲啊
子女們長大成人
她的乳房已低垂
她拉扯夕陽，白云和羊群
金色的柿子和落葉
下山
Autumn
Spreading out her greatness
Autumn feeds, with its wind,the corns in sight, the walnuts in distance
And the leopards that are invisible
Autumn is merciful
Her children having grown up
Her breasts are drooping
With her pushing and pulling, the sunset, the clouds, the sheep
The golden persimmons and fallen leaves
Make their ways down the hill
秋歌
除了蟋蟀，瓢蟲也在歌唱
聲音小到
自己都聽不見
白樺樹是豎琴
蘆葦是短笛
棗樹和核桃離人間最近
秋風是吹奏它們的人
流水在單曲播放
鵝卵石不為所動
水草和浮萍是它的知音
高粱謝幕。向大地
深深鞠躬
An Autumn Song
Apart from crickets, ladybugs are also singing
Their voices are too low
For themselves to hear
The birchesare harps
The reedsare piccolos
Jujube trees and walnut trees are closest to the human world
And the autumn wind is the one who plays them
The running water is playing in the single
Unimpressedas the pebbles appear to be
Aquatic plants and duckweed are its bosom friends
Sorghum is making its curtain call, with deep bows
To the earth
露水
露水掛在高高的電纜線上
它們紫紅色的宮殿
讓我更加熱愛
這是一個秋天的早晨
我信步走向田間
一排排欲墜的露水
使早晨更像一個秋天
在露水的晨練中
我看見秋天在放慢鏡頭——
許多鳥的背影仍在露水中滑翔
這樣的情景，我還能想到
南風翻動了書籍
類似露水的追逐，每一滴
都加重秋天的份量
現在陽光正好，比心情還好
它照耀村莊、城市
使秋天更美，使露水更象一滴露水
而露水中的收成
宮殿中虛構的美人
在九月豐收的枝頭，曇花一現
以短暫表達不可復制的秋天
熱愛露水，我必須抬起頭來
將居所置之高處
讓靈魂在欲碎的秋天
做一次深呼吸
Dews
Dewsare hanging on the high cable
Their mauve palaces
Have deepened my love
It is an autumn morning
I’m wandering about the fields
Rows of swaying dews
Add to the aura ofthis autumn morning
From thedews’ morning exercise
I see autumn slowing down its camera
The backs of many birds are still gliding in the dew
Such a scene reminds me that
The south wind fiddling with books
Can be compared tothe dews’ chases, every drop
Making this autumnprofoundly heavier
Now the sunshine is perfect, better than my mood
It shines on villages and cities
Making autumn more beautiful, andthe dews more crystal
The harvest in the dew
The fictional beauty in the palace
Is nothing but a flash in the pan on September’s branches
To express thisirreproducible autumn
To love dews, I must lift my head
Place my dwelling on a high position
And let my soul take a deep breath
In this almost broken autumn
車過武漢
大雪還在消融。一部分沉入江水
被送到揚州，或者更遠的地方
長江習慣了送別
孤帆，遠影，碧空，都曾是她的饋贈
現在，她送我一路沉默
大武漢閉門謝客，修煉瘦身之術
我看見黃鶴樓，像一只鳥籠，關上無邊春色
“小啊，再小一點，一點點縮小
無限小，比襁褓還小，比病毒還小”
武漢恨不得像地圖上的一滴淚，被暫時抹掉
2020年2月17日，車過武漢
像時間從未來趕來，像鳳凰在遠古涅槃
我一遍遍叨念——
別來無恙，別來無恙……
Passing through Wuhan on a Train —
The snow is still melting, some sinking into the river
Some sent to Yangzhou, or farther places
Yangtze River is used to seeing off
The solitary sail, the disappearing shadow and the blue sky, are all her gifts
Now, she sends me silence all the way
Wuhan hasits door closed, practicing the slimming art
I see the Yellow Crane Tower, like a bird cage, lockthe endless spring scenery inside
“Small, smaller, and smaller
Infinitely small, smaller than swaddling clothes, and smaller than a virus.”
Wuhan wishesto be temporarily erased, like a tear on the map
On February 17, 2020, the trainis passing through Wuhan
Like time comes from the future, and like a phoenix rises from the ashes of antiquity
I repeat over and over again —
Hope that you are well. Hope that you are well...
他像一顆瓜子被時間挑揀出來
像一臺機器，被輸入了程序
嗑瓜子，吐皮，吞咽……
他停不下來，
他已忘了為什么要抓起瓜子，
也忘了一顆顆瓜子的味道。
偶爾遇到一顆壞的，他也心懷寬容，
生活也常常遇人不淑。
他像一顆瓜子被時間挑揀出來，
做成了活的標本。
他不動聲色，吞吞吐吐
像平靜海面下，有不為人知的洶涌。
Like a Melon Seed,He Was Picked by Time
Like a machine that is programmed
Eating seeds, spitting, and swallowing...
He couldn’t stop.
He forgot why he picked up the seeds,
And how they tasted.
He was tolerant of the occasional bad one.
He often met with bad people in his life, too.
Like a melon seed picked by time,
He was made into a living specimen.
Silent and hesitant
He was like a calm sea, with unknown turbulent flows.
武漢長江大橋
這一刻的武漢，與平常并沒有兩樣
長江與往日也沒有不同
大橋上的車流沒有更快
江堤上的行人沒有更慢
輪船上的旅行者揮手致意
下午五點，一列火車從大橋駛過
夕陽照著江面。我剛好到達
卻更像是送別。陌生的朋友們
正乘車跨過長江，有的南來有的北往
還有一些，坐著船各奔東西
只有大橋在夕陽下一動不動
目視江水一直向前
Wuhan Yangtze River Bridge
Wuhan is no different from usualat this moment
So is the Yangtze River
The traffic on the bridge is no faster
The pedestrians on the riverbank are no slower
The travelers on the ship waved their greetings
At five o’clock p.m., a train passed over the bridge
The setting sun is shining on the river. I’ve just arrived
Which is more like a send-off. Strange friends
Are crossing the Yangtze River, some from south, some from north
And some go their separate ways by ship
Nothing but the bridge remains motionless in the sunset
Watching the river running ahead
我不是王陽明
坐在爐火邊吸煙
看理發店的老板娘在撥弄男人的頭發
櫥窗外是賣水果的老太太
頭發白了，正在和環衛工人吵架
此刻理發店前走過一個賣花姑娘
她沒有高聲叫賣，倒像去赴一個不溫不火的約會
如果此刻有雪花飄來，如果她剛好喊出“賣花——賣花”
如果此刻是王陽明，也許會買上一束花
坐在理發店繼續吸煙喝茶
我不是王陽明
天氣很冷爐火正旺
我卻不得不馬上出發
I Am Not Wang Yangming
Sittingand smokingby the fire
I watch the barbershop proprietressdealing with a man’s hair
Outside the window is an oldfemale fruit-vendor
With gray hairarguing with a sanitation man
At this moment,a flower girl is passing by the barber shop
Instead ofpeddling her flowers, she seems to be going on a tepid date
Should a snowflake fall, should she shout, “Flowers — flowers!”
Should Wang Yangming be here, he might buy a bunch of flowers
Andcontinue smoking and drinking teain the barber shop
I’m not Wang Yangming
It is rathercold outside and the fire is burning inside
But I have to set off at once
坐標
我家祖墳被征用
搬到了離家兩公里外的公墓
這有點像邊段莊的拆遷
街坊鄰居統統集中到新修的小區
不知道父親會不會高興
從小玩到死的小伙伴又相聚了
我跪在他墓前
被身邊的煙火嗆出淚水
祖墳不在了
我再也沒有機會像他生前那樣
背對孟姜女河，面向不遠處的村莊
對子女們說
“大樹下是你奶的墓，
旁邊是你爺的穴位，空的
我的在這兒，出門不用拐彎
上新濮公路，往東走，村子最北頭
是我們的老家”
Coordinates
The land where my ancestralgraves lie was requisitioned
So they’ve been moved to a cemetery two kilometers from home
It’s a bit like the demolition of Bianduan Village
The community was congregated into the new neighborhood
I thinkmy father might be pleased
For his friends from childhood to death get together again
I knelt at his grave
Choked into tears by the fireworks around
The ancestral graves are gone
I’ll never have the chance to do whatever he did
With his back to Meng Jiangnu River, and his face towards the village not far away
He said to his children
“Under the tree is your grandmother’s grave,
Next to it is your grandfather’s. It’s not available yet
Mine is right here. Get out of our house and walk straight
Take Xinpu Road, and head east. At the northern end of the village
Is our old home.”
意義
多年前，
霍老二截肢，
把一條腿埋在祖墳。
很多人都忘了，
這條腿存在，
以及存在的價值。
昨天工廠在已搬遷的墳地上，
平整場地。
霍老二突然想起被埋了多年的腿，
掘地三尺，也沒找到。
霍老二向工廠索賠五萬元。
一條廢棄的腿，
因遺失，再次具備了
某種存在的意義。
Meaning
Many years ago,
Huo Lao’er was amputated,
Oneof his legsburied in the ancestral grave.
Many people have forgotten,
Its existence and the value
Of its existence
Yesterday the factory had the field
That was once the graveyard leveled
Huo Lao’er suddenly remembered the leg buried there many years ago.
He dug very deep, but failed to find it.
He claimed 50,000 yuan from the factory.
Because of its disappearance,
The abandoned legsomehow
Came into its own.
真相
他一直在尋找，
真相。
多年后，
他終于站在小學老師跟前
“您還認識我嗎，
我就是那個偷手表的學生”
老師搖搖頭，當年
他讓所有的學生，
背過身，
靠墻，
捂眼，
他從一個學生的衣兜里，
摸出了那塊手表。
為了保護，
偷手表的學生，
他放棄了真相——
搜身的時候，
他也捂住了自己的眼睛。
The Truth
He’s been searching
The truth.
Many years later,
He finally stood in front of his primary school teacher
“Do you know me?
I’m the student who stole the watch.”
The teacher shook his head. At the time that year
He asked all the students,
To turn back,
Lean against the wall,
Andcover their eyes withtheir hands.
He pulled out the watch from the pocket of one of the students’.
To protect
The one who stole the watch,
He gave up the truth—
During the search,
He also covered his eyes.
到破木村慰問
第一戶孤寡老人，72歲，有獨子，十年前離家，至今音信全無
菩薩保佑，他身體硬朗，尚能種田、喂豬
第二戶40歲，五年間兩次車禍，天靈蓋打開數次，無勞動能力，家有瘋妻
老天開眼，大難不死。靠救濟金養大的女兒，今年15歲，綴學，開始混生活
第三戶腦溢血，42歲，十幾年前得病，口齒不清
我主慈悲，留命一條，還能在家中慢慢挪動身體
第四戶父親不在家，母親出走多年，姐姐拒收我們遞上的紅包
祖上積德，姐姐考上一本科大學，正帶一個弟弟兩個妹妹趴在床邊讀書
第五戶家中無人，據說戶主吸毒，妻子改嫁，拋下獨女
人間有情，街坊鄰居將其養大成人
破木村人丁3000，方圓數里
所訪5戶，離村中玉林寺，均不足百步
村長說：人各有命
他們靠這句話平靜度日
A ConsolatoryVisit to Broken Wood Village
The first family, an old and lonely man, 72 years old. His only son left home ten years ago, never to
be heard from.
Blessed by the Bodhisattva, he is strong enough to farm and feed pigs.
The second family, a 40-year-old man, who suffered two traffic accidents within five years. Having
had several surgeries on the top of his skull, he has no ability to work. His wife is a psychotic.
Blessed by God, he has survived. Raised on welfare, his 15-year-old daughterdropped out of school
and began to make a living by herself.
The third family, a 42-year-old man who is inarticulate because of cerebral hemorrhage over ten
years ago.
Spared by God, he is able to move slowly around the house.
The fourth family, the father is not at home and the mother ran away many years ago. The sister
refused to accept the consolation money.
Benefiting from her ancestral merits, she is a college student now, and is accompanying her younger
brother and two younger sisters on reading at the bedside.
The fifth family, nobody is at homewhen I visit. The head is said to be a drug addict, and his ex
wife got remarried, leaving their only daughter behind.
The human world full of love,the community raised up the girl.
With a population of 3,000, Broken Wood Village has an area of several square miles.
The 5 households live less than 100 steps away from Yulin Temple.
The village chief said: everyone has hisdestiny.
Sticking to this saying, they live peacefully.
煙與這個夜晚
這個夜晚被煙點燃
它與其他的夜晚并無兩樣
這個普通的夜晚
平凡得就像一包沒有牌子的香煙
它不是中華，不是云煙
甚至不是黃果樹、紅旗渠
這一天也不是國慶、中秋
甚至不是周末、節假日
這個夜晚沒有咖啡，沒有茶
甚至沒有酒精，沒有女人
沒有麻將、撲克牌
更別說詩歌、音樂和回憶
這個夜晚普通的讓人安靜
這個世界安靜的讓人害怕
我只看到兩件事：夜晚和煙
這個夜晚被煙點燃
The Cigarette and The Night
This night has been lit by a cigarette
It’s much the same as any other night
This night
Is as plain as a pack of unbranded cigarettes
The brand is neitherZhonghua or Yun
Nor Huangguoshu or Red Flag Canal
It’s neither National Day or Mid-Autumn Festival
Nor a weekend or a holiday
No coffee or tea this evening
No alcohol or women
No mahjong, no cards
Not to mention poetry, music or memories
Thisnightis common enough to make onequiet
This world is quiet enough to make onefrightened
What I can see aremerely two things: the night and the cigarette
The night has been lit by the cigarette
一根煙將時間分為兩截
一根煙將時間分為兩截
我喜歡喚醒剩余的一截
比如一場歡娛，點上一根
把小小的我，推向時間一角
渺小，安靜，猥瑣
我終于松下來，像一堆光滑的垃圾
那些缺陷正好由煙霧來彌補
現在我習慣，拿煙的后半部分
比喻人生的豐富
正如很多年前，我喜歡拿女人的胸
調劑一首詩歌的味道
A Cigarette Divides Time into Two Pieces
A cigarette divides time into two pieces
I like to wake up the remaining piece
For instance, when enjoying a good time, the lighted cigarette
Pushes me to the corner of time
Small, quiet and undignified
Finally loosened, I’m like a smooth piece of garbage
Those defects are just made up for by smoke
Now I’m used to comparing the richness of life
To the laterpart of a cigarette
Just as years agoI preferred to spice up a poem
With women’s breasts
關上燈，我們是兩個紅紅的煙頭
關上燈，我們是兩個紅紅的煙頭
忽明忽滅
除了猩紅，世界什么都沒有
我看著你，一點點變短
也看著剩下的，慢慢變少
我的身體由煙霧構成
渺小到無法證明
“把我還給世界，我和你一起熄滅”
我知道你說的空虛，已過于陳舊
世界黑了，儲滿了油、孤獨和夢想
你又要急著點燃
The Light Turned off, We’re Two Red Cigarette Ends
The light turned off, we’re two red cigarette ends
Winking in the dark
There’s nothing in the world but scarlet
I watch you getting shorter and shorter
And what’s leftsmaller and smaller
Being made of smoke, my body
Is too small to be proved
“Give me back to the world, and I’ll go out with you.”
I know the emptiness you talk of is unduly old
The dark world full of oil, loneliness and dreams
You need to light it up again
桃源路
沿桃源路
從西往東走
又沿桃源路
從東往西走
春天還沒來
不知道為什么
總想在這條街上
多呆一會兒
太陽很晃眼
風也很大
樹葉都在找角落躲藏
桃源路不知道
這是一種什么冷
Taoyuan Road
Along Taoyuan Road
I walk from west to east
And again along Taoyuan Road
I walk from east to west
Spring has not come yet
I don’t know why
I always want to stay longer
On this street
The sun is dazzling
And it’s very windy
Leaves are crawling for corners to hide
Taoyuan Road doesn’t know
What kind of cold it is
中英文對照詩集?第五輯?幸福的俗世
Chinese and English Poetry Collection ? PartFive? The Happy Earthly World
幸福的俗世
天黑下來的時候
野菊花格桑花依偎得更緊
只是我們看不到
拿著火把在山間奔跑的孩子們
就是這個夜晚會說話的螢火蟲
天黑下來的時候
大山一望無際深不見底
我需要一張床
鋪在大山的最深處
The Happy Earthly World
When it’s getting dark
Wild chrysanthemum and Gesang flowers huddle closer
What we can’t see is that
Children with torches running through the hills
Are talking fireflies of the night
When it’s getting dark
The mountains stretch as far as the eye can see
I want a bed
Made in the deepest place of the mountain
春天的另一種樣子
――致海子
我想在這樣的春天結束
鐵道邊開滿野花，有雨，但很快被風吹去
一切都結束了，我的詩句，還能沿著鐵路
去我到過，或者想去還沒去過的地方
我還想住在高處，一段緩緩上升的坡地
年輕的人們繼續我未完成的愛情
我愛過的山水，將再次呈現
我歌頌過的麥地將從碧綠慢慢金黃
我也將在人們的傳誦中醒來，并再次長大
我知道春天還有另一種樣子
我不結束，春天就會遠離
我想在這樣的春天結束
與生下我的母親，我尚未生下的子女
以及我愛過的土地，輪回的四季
Another Look of Spring
— To Haizi
I want to end up in such a spring
The railroad tracks are covered with wild flowers. There is rain, but the wind will soon blow it away
It’s all over, but my verses, can still follow the railroad
To where I’ve been, or I want to go but haven’t been yet
I want to live up high, on a gently rising slope
The young continue my unaccomplished love
The landscape I loved will unfold itselfagain
The wheat fields I sang of will turn from green to gold
I will wake up on people’s lips and grow up again
I know spring has another look
If I didn’t put an end to myself, spring would stay far away
I want to end up in such a spring
With my mother who gave birth to me, the children I have yet to have
The land I loved, and theseasons that ever change
在春天想起雪花
春天的時候，我把桃花、櫻花、油菜花
種在一頁紙上。希望她們在人世
能多呆幾天。陽光，雨露，還有觸手可及的幸福
把春天布置的更為遼闊
還有一種植物跑出了春天的邊緣
你一想，它就不在了
Thinking of Snowflakes in Spring
In spring, I plant peach blossoms, cherry blossoms and rape flowers
On asheet of paper. I wish they could remain alive
For a few more days. With sunshine, rain and dew, and happiness within reach
Spring extends even vaster
There is a certain plant that runs out of spring
The moment you think about it, it’s gone
暮春
我在春天選擇了衰老。花朵曾喧囂一時
天空將情人布置在大地上
花朵暫別了樹木，像一對露水夫妻
風和湖泊生出最短命的子女，喚作漣漪
大山還在長高，懷抱落潮的水
有人看見春天的分歧，丑陋和隱秘
春天就要衰老
“還未種下樹木的人，就不必再種
還在憂傷的人，就不必安慰”
春天在給她的情人寫信
我就是它寫下的最后一個句子
The Late Spring
I choose to be getting old in spring. Flowers once flourished
The sky settles its lovers upon the earth
Like a one-night couple, flowers and trees say goodbye to each other
The children produced by winds and lakes are called ripples
The mountains are still growing, embracing the ebb water
Once its divisions, ugliness and secrets are observed
Spring will be getting old
“Whoever haven’t planted trees can spare the trouble
Whoever are still sad needn’t be comforted”
Spring is writing a letter to her lover
I’ll be the last sentence it ever writes
幺鋪的油菜花
我們在風中搖曳
順便把花香送到十里外
你跑了十里的路來看我們
我們不用跑就見到了你
你站在大堤上
把自己想象成了李白李商隱
幺鋪落日遲
你能想到的詩句都與我們無關
有一秒你還把自己想象成了黃帝
把溝溝坎坎想成了大好河山
把花花草草想成了三千佳麗
你好像不是來看花的
你沒看幾眼就開始看手機
看遠遠的老農在燒雜草
你只看了一小會兒天就黑了
你坐在車里睡著的時候
一列火車曾呼嘯而過
The Rape Flowers in Yaopu
We’re swaying in the wind
Sendingfragrance ten miles away
You come ten miles to see us
We don’t have to travel so far to see you
Standing on the levee
You imagine you were Li Bai and li Shangyin
The sun setting late
Every verse you can think of has nothing to do with us
For a second you imagineyou were Yellow Emperor
The ups and downs in front of you werespectacular rivers and mountains
And the flowers and plants were thousands of beauties
It seems that you’re not here to see the flowers
For what you do next is to check your mobile phone
Or watch the old farmer burning weeds in the distance
And in a short while it’ll get dark
When you’redreaming in the car
A train roars past
把鳥兒趕進一幅畫里
今天我起的比鳥兒還早
我要到頂樓看鳥
我帶著一盒煙、一把米
還有一些碎碎的陽光
我看見麻雀飛過去，象剪紙
我看見鴿子飛過去，一對兒
我看見布谷飛過去，布谷布谷
我想把鳥兒趕進一幅畫里
讓它們在天上
上班，談戀愛，做生意
To Herd the Birds into a Painting
I got up earlier than birds today
In order to go up to the roof to watch them
I took a carton of cigarettes, a handful of rice
And some bits of sunlight
I saw sparrows flying past like paper cuts
I saw pigeons flying past in couple
I saw Cuckoo flyingpast, cuckoo cuckoo
I wanted to herd the birds into a painting
So that they could work, fall in love and do businesses
In the sky
它把房子建在了一片葉子上
在舊州，這顆露珠是新鮮的
幾分鐘前它還只是一小團霧氣
在夕陽與晚霞交接的瞬間
它把房子建在了一片葉子上
等我來住
It Built Its House on a Leaf
In Jiuzhou, this dewdropis fresh
A few minutes ago it was just a cloud of mist
At the transitional moment from sunset to evening glow
It built its house on a leaf
Waiting for me to live in it
他為什么一個人走進油菜花田
他為什么一個人走進油菜花田
這是一只鳥的疑惑
也是河里覓食的鴨子的疑惑
還有河堤上迎面走來的村婦的疑惑
一只鳥兒在油菜花田翻飛
它為什么翻飛，動作還這么花哨
一群鴨子游來游去
不知道要把這條河帶到哪里
河堤上迎面走來的村婦
會不會先讓出只容得下一人的小路
他為什么一個人走進油菜花田
這也是油菜花想問的問題
Why Does He Walk into the Rape Flower Field Alone
Why does he walk into the rape flower field alone
It’sthe doubt of a bird
Of the ducks foraging in the river
And of the village woman walkingalong the river bank
The bird is fluttering over the field
Why is it playingsuch fancy tricks
A flock of ducks are swimming about
Where are they taking the river
The pathadmits only one person to pass
Will the village womanfirst give way to the other
Why does he walk into the rape flower field alone
That’s what the flowers want to ask, too
中英文對照詩集?第六輯?我看見病毒時期的花
Chinese and English Poetry Collection ? PartSix ? I Saw Flowers in the Virus Period
病桃
它一生下來，
就攜帶了病毒。
別說它生不逢時，
黑暗中我依然喊出它的名字。
我愿意相信——
殘疾的孩子，
一樣來自愛情的結合。
就像今夜的桃花，
它只聽命于春風。
The Sick Peach
It’s been carrying virus,
Since its birth.
Don’t say it was born in the wrong time.
I call out its name in the dark.
Ibelieve that
The child with disability
Is no less than the fruitoflove.
The peach blossom tonight
Only obeys the spring breeze.
窗臺上的臘梅
它輾轉了很多地方，
才在我家窗臺上，安頓下來。
枝干堅硬，瘦小的花苞弱不禁風。
新年剛過，病毒還在蔓延。
它落下第一片花瓣……
春天到了，它必須抽出新的枝條。
像一個無助的孕婦，
自己剪掉了臍帶，
——用陽光這把刀。
The Wintersweet on the Windowsill
It travelled around many places,
Before it settled down on the windowsill of my house,
Its branches strong, and its thin buds fragile.
The new year having just passed, and viruses till spreading
Its first petal fell…
As spring is coming, it must put out new shoots.
Like a helpless pregnant woman,
It cut the umbilical cord,
— With the knife of sunshine.
白菜開花
種下它的人，被隔離了。
在一片荒地上，
它有了新的身份——野白菜。
它悄悄發芽、抽苔，
把花瓣獻給春風，把花蕊獻給蜜蜂。
過些天，它還要把一捧野種，
獻給大地。
The Cabbage Has Blossomed
Whoever planted it has been quarantined.
On thedeserted land,
It has a new identity — wild cabbage.
Germinating and bolting quietly,
It givesits petals to spring wind and its stamen to bees.
In a few days, it will give a handful of wild seeds
To the earth.
長壽花
高處的一朵花開了，
寓意一個病人，已經痊愈了。
接下來，從高到低，
它還會開出更多的花。
每天，我都會盯著一堆數字，
想象一朵又一朵花投奔了人間。
災難還沒有過去，我們向草木稱神。
長壽花不知道這一切，
它的心中，只有冷暖，沒有人間。
The Jonquil
A blooming jonquil on high,
Symbolizes a patient has been cured.
And then, from high to low,
It will produce more flowers.
Every day, staring at a bunch of numbers,
I imaginethem committing themselves to the worldone after another.
The disaster hanging over, we regardourselves plants’ god.
The jonquil knows nothing aboutthis,
And in its mind’s eye, there’s no human world but warmth and cold.
鐵海棠
這個下午，它打開指甲大的花苞，
等一個遠行歸來的人。
春天有雷，人間有報應，
養花人還在路上，盤算著另外的事物……
鐵海棠，鋪著我們一無所知的鐵軌，
運送它的柔弱。如同記憶
運送土地、荊棘和剪刀。
他愛萬物無常的旅行，愛它纖細花莖里
小劑量的毒。
The Iron Begonia
This afternoon, a bud the size of a fingernail opened,
Waiting for a person to return from a long travel.
There being thunder in spring, and retribution on the earth,
The florist is on his way, brooding over something else...
The Iron begonia is laying railway tracks we know nothing about,
To deliver its weakness, just as memory
Transportsland, thorns and scissors.
He loves the impermanent travel of all things, and the low-dose poison
In its slender stems.
虞美人
愛情，命，四面的楚歌……
她這樣想的時候，已交出一切。
苦難是過去式，在時間的背面，永不過期。
一朵花被分成兩瓣，美依然占據上風，
即使花葉蜷縮，花骨被黑暗灼傷，
也保持它最初的力。
一如出鞘的劍戀著偏鋒，
我戀著洶涌的人間。
一場床事，適合被反復臨摹，
它的怒放就是噴濺，
當它凋落，便再也不會凋落。
Corn Poppy
Love, life, and besiegement at all sides......
Thinking this way, she has given up everything.
As what has gone with the wind, suffering never expires on the other side of time.
A flower divided in two, beauty still prevails.
Despite its curling leaves and bones burned by the dark,
It retains its original strength.
Just as a sword out of its sheath loves the slant,
I love the turbulent world.
It’s proper that a sex scene be repeatedly copied.
Its bloom is a splash.
When it withers and falls, it’ll never fade.
油菜花
它鋪著往年的金黃，在同一片山坡上，
認不出故人。
我知道它不比往年，其實春風，
只是吹動了鮮艷的部分。
灰色一動不動，像冬日留下的心病。
枯樹和雜草相間其中，
有的已死去，有的正返青。
像一本歡樂之書，突然打開憂傷的章節——
我們已如此熟悉，卻不能同行，
當我靠近，仍沾上一身花粉。
鐵軌還躺在山坡下，久不聽轟鳴。
幾只公雞在花間覓食，我學著其中一只，
頭向前伸了伸……
The Rape Flower
Covering the same hillsidewith the gold of the previous years
It can’t recognize its old friends.
I know, not exactly the same as before, only its bright parts
Are blown up by the spring breeze.
Gray remains still, like asore concernleft by winter.
Dead trees and weedsscatter here and there,
Some dead, some turning green.
Like the sad chapterof a book of joysuddenly unfolded—
We know each other so well, but we cannot walk together.
When getting close, Istillget pollen on myself.
The rails still lie at the bottom of the hill, no roars to hear for long.
Several roosters are foraging among the flowers, andI imitate one of them,
By putting my head a little forward ...
武漢櫻花
當你說起武漢的櫻花，
她已羽化，像一萬只小手，
揉碎春天的江面。
一個人從夢中醒來，便不敢再睡，
他已經錯過桃花，便不想，
再錯過櫻花。
他挖一鍬土，葬了女子
他挖一鍬土，種了櫻花
他挖一鍬土，埋了屠刀
當你說起武漢的櫻花，
他不愿從夢中醒來，
他信著異國佛，愛著身后事。
The Cherry Blossoms in Wuhan
When you talk about the cherry blossoms in Wuhan,
She has feathered out, ten thousand little hands
Crumbling thesurface of the river in spring.
A man waking up from a dream dares not fallasleep again.
Having missed the peach blossom, he won’t
Miss the cherry blossom.
He dug a shovelful of earth and buried the lady.
He dug a shovelful of earth and planted cherry blossoms
He dug a shovelful of earth and buried the butcher’s knife
When you talk about the cherry blossoms in Wuhan,
He is unwilling to wake up from his dream.
He believes in foreign Buddha and lovesthe afterlife.
七姊妹
它在風中搖擺，并不是醉了
也不是被誰征服。
七姊妹，像我們小時候，依偎在母親身旁，
小心守護一株莖干。越來越單薄的花，
它行將枯萎，它已經枯萎，風吹，
動一動。再吹，
它就要跌下來，來不及看一眼
這個搖搖欲墜的家。
Seven Sisters
Swaying in the wind, it isn’t drunk
Noris it conquered.
As wenestled against our mother when we were very young
Seven Sisters guardthe stem carefully.Thinner and weaker,
Withering and dying, it makes a slight move
When the wind blows. Again the wind blows,
It’s about to fallbefore it has time to cast a glance
At this crumbling home.
刺梨花
我把它搬至四月，命令它早些開放。
去年它尚年幼，不懂得燦爛。
像一個人不懂悲傷，寫下草率的句子。
它開出紅色的花，也開出一蓬荊棘。
一個人向往幸福，也向往苦難。
這就不難理解，我總是比別人多一輪落日。
我目送它漸行漸遠，
像我最小的情人。
The Thorn Pear Flower
I moved it to April and ordered it to bloom early.
Last year it was too young to understand brightness.
Just as a person ignorant of sadnesswrites sloppy sentences,
It produces red flowers, as well as a canopy of thorns.
One yearns for both happiness and suffering,
Which makes sense that I always have one more sunset than others.
I watch it go farther and farther,
Like my youngest lover.
無名花
一些植物，像似曾相識的人，
叫不出名字。
我就是這樣愛塵世。
愛那些不確定的確定，不荒唐的荒唐。
我和它站在一起，已經放棄了，
更多的枝葉。
我也放棄了悲傷，那些叫不出名字的花
都與我無關。
The Unknown Flowers
Some plants, are like people that have a ring of déjà vu,
But I can’t name them.
That’s how I love this world.
I love those uncertain certainty and reasonable absurdity.
Standingwith it, I have given up
The extra branches and leaves.
I’ve also given up sadness, and those unknown flowers
Have nothing to do with me.
【三泉簡介】三泉，出生于河南衛輝，現居貴州。“以商入世，以詩出世”，出版有詩集《尋找站牌》《云彩草書的豐沛》（合集），作品散見《詩刊》、《詩歌月刊》、《飛天》、《深圳詩歌》、《詩潮》、《詩林》、《延河》、《大河》、《中國詩歌》等。2021年中詩網年度詩人、 2021年詩歌周刊年度詩人、2021世界詩歌網年度創作獎。
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