outland poetry
anthology 黑色的使者
Cesar Vallejo
Black angel Life is so powerful blow to...... I do not know! Report as hatred of God; to face them Seems all the agony of the aftermath Are deposited in the soul...... I do not know! Combat, while small; but...... can Face the most ruthless and the most solid back out on the dark ravine. They may be horses barbaric Huns Or is the black angel of death sent. They are the image of Jesus in the soul Is also the fate of the insult, a gob of some lovely heavy fall of faith. Those bloody combat is crackling bread Door for us it is baking. The poor people............ pathetic! Turned his eyes It was shot in the shoulder look like, call us Crazy eyes turned to smoke, and all past Looked like a sin of the water sugar. Deposited on the eyes. Life are so powerful blow to...... I do not know! 赵振江 Translation -------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------ Tragic dinner How long should People just do not owe us anything...... In which corner of the Our poor knees to get a long rest! Until what month Encouraged us to stop the cross of hard labor. How long should Suspicious of the suffering of God that we have to be paid for...... We have long sat at the table. Tough baby around midnight, hunger, crying, difficult and fall asleep...... How long will we be able to go to the morning of the edge of eternity And others to meet, we have breakfast. This is the abyss of tears one by one I never had it brought here their To continue until the day! I support the use of elbows to hands hide their faces, Dejected, soaked in tears inside: This is tragic but also to maintain the number of dinner time! Who is laughing at us after the swill, Sometimes run away, sometimes close, Container of the nature of human suffering as a black spoon - graves...... That the tomb does not know the dark It should also maintain the number of dinner time! 赵振江 Translation -------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------ Distant footsteps Father sleeping. Awesome face That peace of mind. Now he is... how sweet... That is me - what if he has bitter things. Home in silence; people in prayer; Today, no children's message. Father woke up, listening Fled to Egypt, that parting words. Ah... now how close he was... That is me - what if he has something far away. Mother walking in the orchard, Not enjoy the taste of sorrow. Now she very gentle, What a trance, how elegant, how loving. Home in a quiet, no noise, No news, no innocent, no childish. If you have any ups and downs come in the near dawn, and the howling sound, That is two white trail, winding. My heart is down they went. (Zhao Zhenjiang translation) -------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------ Love Song passing At this moment, my gentle girl Rita Andes Looked like the daffodils and the lantern fruit, doing? Constantinople I am suffocating, Blood lethargy, poor quality of the brandy, as my heart. At this moment, her hands in where? They will come in white evening ironing, The rain is landing So I lost the fun of Health. Lan Sirong her skirt would be like? And her diligence, her gait May her in the local sugar cane aroma? She looked at the door to a Choi Wan, Finally, tremble, and said: "My God, really cold! Corrugated on a wild cry in sorrow. " 赵振江 Translation -------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------ The shoulders of a person carrying bread through the...... The shoulders of a person carrying bread through it, How can I go to write that he saw people like me? Another man sat down, itching, from the armpit Niechu it strangle a lice well, He looked at what I have the courage to talk about psychoanalysis? Another person with a stick to my chest, Socrates looked at him I how to speak to the doctor? A child came down with his arm leaning against a child, He also read 安德烈勃勒 East saw? Another shivering. Cough, vomiting, He also brought painful read my own? Another finding in the sludge bones, skin, I can go read his written world of infinite? A mason died from a fall off the roof, He is no longer eat lunch I saw him escape with a replacement of the word and metaphor? A businessman stealing a gram weight of the things the customer, I can read him involved in the fourth dimension? A forged bankers accounts I can read him crying in the theater? A poor man fell asleep on the back foot, Looked at him I could put Picasso to talk to the people? Cried a man into the grave trench ring, How can I go see him Academy? Someone in the kitchen, polished the gun, I have the courage to see him talk about what things the next life? A man counting down the walk, How can I not see him cry and cry about "self"? 尹承东 Translation -------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------ I was born that day I was born that day God sick. Everybody knows I'm alive And I am bad; but I do not know That in the December, January. Because I was born that day God sick. The vigor of my metaphysical Appeared vacancies No one should touch it: A silent monastery The flame to speak. I was born that day God sick. Brother, you listen, you listen...... Good. Do not leave me December rather than away Without leaving in January. Because I was born that day God sick. Everybody knows I'm alive And chewing...... but I do not know Why is my verse, there are creaks, A faint taste of the coffin, There rasp like the wind That was the desert Solution of good question Sphinx demolished. Everyone knows that...... but I do not know Light had TB, The dark and fat...... Do not know the mysterious Council Complex I do not know really tall sweet and sad Hump in the distance prediction Boundaries from the boundary leads to Meridian. I was born that day God sick, Ill the. White fly translation -------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------ Love detention You from the lips and eyes in the shadows Bits and pieces surfaced! I surfaced from the context of your Like a wounded dog Looking forward to a quiet street in the refuge. Love, you are a disaster in the world! I kiss the devil the arrow on the bow; My kiss is holy believers. Astrology soul - Maintained in pure blasphemy! The influence of brain heart! - Your heart is sad in my body. Plato's stamen To open the crown on your soul. It was the wicked quiet confession it? You, occasionally, I listened to his voice? Innocent flowers!...... You do not know this is not a spell, Christian love is a crime! 赵珊珊 Translation -------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------ Pilgrimage We walk in the piece. Dream Is so happily licking our feet; And all are in pale, Happy reunion in the twisted. We walk in the piece. Those Death of the soul, they are like us, for love And over the mountains Tottering footsteps marching white Dressed in mourning rigid Fluttering Huhu towards us. Lovers, we walk in a pile of soil Fragile edge. A wing flying in the past, painted oil Painted pure. But the blow, I do not know where from the hit, In every tear in the Sharpening the teeth of hatred. And a soldier, a great soldier, Wearing badges and to leave the wound, In the evening to a hero's courage, And laughing, he used his feet - Like the pool of unsightly junk, Display life mind. We walk in the piece, close to, Fluttering Huhu's footsteps, can not beat the light; We passed a cemetery Dark yellow lilac. Huang brilliant translation -------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------ The sanctity of falling leaves Moon: a huge crown of the head of the noble, When you walk into the yellow leaves fell into the shadows. A savior of the red crown, and he tragically Sapphire thought to her gently! Moon: heaven desperate heart, Why do you run west Fill in the blue cup of wine, When it's colors represent the failure and sadness? Moon: fly is of no use, So you are in a framework of scattered opal rose: Maybe you are my heart, like a gypsy, Wandering in the sky, shed tears as the poem!...... Huang brilliant translation -------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------ Black Cup Night is the evil of the cup. Siren sound Across the night, like a trembling needle. Listen, loose woman, if you have left, then Why do waves still dark, still makes me raging up? The darkness of the earth in its grasp the edge of the coffin. Listen, bitch, you never come back. Swimming with my body, swimming with S in that still makes me sad dark cup My body was there to swim, As in the hearts of a loose woman. Star General of the coal...... I have felt A block of dry mud fall Lotus on my transparent. Ah, woman! This is the instinct of the flesh with all Exists only for you. Ah, woman! Because of this, black goblet! Now you're gone, I smoldering in the evening, The other the desire to drink alcohol within the body began to scratch scratching. -------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------ The cycle of hate The world has the desire to come back to love, and not leave There is also the desire to die by two unit Will never be the opposite of the Isthmus of water impact. The world has the desire to get a kiss, it will shelter life It withered in the intense pain of Africa, Suicide! The world...... do not want to have a desire to have the desire. Lord, ah, I aim to kill you refer to God. There did not want the world has a heart desire. Spring back, it will back away. And God Repeated bending at the time of his own, walked over, walked over, Backbone carrying the universe on his shoulders. When I was mourning hall beat drums When the moment of sleep on the knife to hurt me, The world has put the aspirations of the poem move an inch! Huang brilliant translation -------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------ Mule driver who Mule driver, you walk like a dream wildly, sweat blinking. Maynor Gutu farm every day Trouble to you one thousand for their livelihood. Twelfth noon. We come to this day around his waist. What a scorching sun. Mule driver, you red cape slowly away, Chewing coca leaves in Peru you folk. And I, from the hardwood communities, From a century of indecision, The horizon in front of your meditation, the mosquitoes were And a black card black card with the sound of birds Weak songs sung beautifully by the mourning children. Finally you will arrive where you want to reach, Mule driver who, in your ass it like the back of the saints, Away...... Away...... So you are lucky, in this heat, the Even all our hopes and aspirations are high up, When the body that can not afford to bring the spirit of almost Walking without coca, it is difficult beast to its Pull to the timeless West of the Andes. Huang brilliant translation
Translator: 赵振江
|