outland poetry
anthology 诗选
Lagekewei Baptist
Review with my old eyes Review with my old eyes, All the past is so far away. A stone on the road Tired of the cattle in the evening want to go home, A heavy load carriage, an old wheel tracks The gray farmhouse gable - In a window with a lamp. Aspect of the marshland streams Fog covered the water in the dark - Why do I only remember this? I have to do it? Go too far too far in my life in another world, As if in another world. Now, it is about to end It does not matter. Was born in the place Place to start his life to Before the end of the subsequent place of death All What is the difference? A stone road, A heavily loaded wagon, a dilapidated wheel track - My soul is full of poverty in the evening And from the old cowshed on the lantern glow. When the lamp was put forward from one barn to another barn, Cowshed in animal sleep is heavy. Later, the lights were referred to House Agriculture Flashing lights, through the garden path no longer exists For a long time to hear a dead man's footsteps. All the past is so far away. My soul is full of poverty in the evening And from the old barn lantern light on the issue From the garden path to the gray farmhouse These are now no longer exists My soul? This is my soul What is the relationship? And wetlands, a stream of the swamp, A heavy evening fog from the cattle pens on the lantern glow - My soul always choose to look from afar, Hidden things, always under the wandering stars. A stone road ah, a heavy load carriage, a dilapidated wheel track - They clapped his hands to listen to the words These words of the most difficult to understand the human mind, They sit in an old clapped his hands at the table Dinner has been taken away, only an old book In the silence of the sacred quiet place is good, From far away a star shining in the top of the mud houses, A house of death, One evening in late autumn. Personal trudged came in, The barn lantern on the door Into the light of the star. Now, no one missed All of them dead. They also live in the light of a star The heavy end of the day in their day. They sat stationary in the light with Light - a star's light, not all of the stars. Together ... ... In an old table. Wide, tired of labor's hand. But why do I only remember this? I have to do it? My soul, alone together with your black flame burning! I am a stranger, born to a stranger. In the autumn of my life I am still a stranger. Review with my old eyes. We come from? What is our soul? Fog covered the water in the dark, from the cattle on the lantern glow, Star light? Put my hands down on my old eyes, It used to be the child's - House of death ... ... In a late autumn evening. Personal trudged came in, Lantern on the door of the cowshed Into a star's light. Now no one missed the ... ... Why do I only remember this? Translated by Anne -------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------ Ship life You will be gone for a while, I wonder if you will slide The life of another piece of land leading to the ship, There are hidden on the shore of the morning waiting for you. Do not up_set_, do not be afraid at the time, respectively, A gentle hand calmly raised sails, when the ship Your country taken to the day from the night's country, Without fear that the quiet shore towards it, That faint light flickering along the quiet path in the grass. Translated by Shen Rui -------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------ Who in my childhood through the window next to the Who from my childhood through the window, Oh the gas to the window, In my childhood, in that deep No stars in the night, who walked. The window with his fingers made a mark Leaching of the glass in the wet, With his delicate fingers, Pondered moving forward. Leave me alone, Forever. How can I guess the mark Oh, that moist air in the mark. It stops at such short, short was not enough to guess, Never, never guess the mark. Up in the morning is a refreshing window frames, I see the world is like this. Everything is so strange, In the window, my soul how loneliness and fear. Who have gone through, After my childhood in the night, Leave me alone, Forever. Danqin E Lei Shuyan Translation -------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------ Depressed Depression, boredom is my heritage, My throat wound, My heart cries in the world. Today, the sky was covered with foam condensation In the night's rough hands; Today, the forest And hard Heights Desolate to rise, lean That the low sky. Everything is so difficult, How rigid, dark and quiet! In this darkened room I felt here Feel your fingers hit the edge of a cliff that sharp I cut out of his hands up Canyun on a frozen until they bleed. Oh, I tear off the finger nails, I cut through the hands of extreme pain In the Highlands and the dark of the forest cover on Iron in the sky on In the cold land! Depression, boredom is my heritage, My throat wound, My heart cries in the world. Translated by Shi Mo -------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------ Small hands Little hands, little hands do not belong to me, You who are in this vast earth? I find you in the dark. You do not belong to me. But I heard someone crying. Where are your eyes, your chest? Who cry in the dark? Small hands, do not cry! I used the warm caress you. You are not alone in the dark. Little hands, I will find your eyes When the dawn of time of Advent. Cried the little hand, you are all I need Even if the morning never, never come. North Island Translation -------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------ A letter One on the spring wheat, On the red currant bush, cherry tree, letter, A letter from my old mother, That is trembling under the rough hand-written letter ah! Every word is Clover, Ripe rye and flowering fields, She manages all the year round Everything near and far. Under the reliable protection of God, The sun shining on those adjacent to the farmhouse, Blanchir sweet bell merrily knocking Down of peace in the world. In that the aroma of the garden, Song of lavender and Vespers in the atmosphere in In the quiet Sundays, the She wrote to me. Always a busy day and night, Always without a break in Far away I know - oh, mystery! - This is endless. Danqin E Lei Shuyan Translation
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