俄罗斯 波普拉夫斯基 Poplavski  俄罗斯   (1903~1935)
anthology
Multiple poems at a time
outland poetry

anthology
诗选

   Poplavski

Hell's Angels
To Alexei Allah Andropov
I am anyway, I tell you: I am very happy.
Wind sigh in my head: dirty embryo!
Indiscriminately, regardless of the sun
Watering the forest with plenty of light.
Whales and ships Zhuoqi a dodge.
The snake quietly hiding in the depths.
Desperately speeding toward the hillside tram,
Hit the door of the mortuary the same plate.
Years if the prisoner's back and the "box" distribution generally goes by,,
In the "Plum Blossom" grave is located in place to lie down.
"The King" sat, as if obesity pedantic,
"Jack" grasp the stick and knife.
Then, "Queen," these beautiful queen,
One wears a turban, the other not with flowers,
Apple's third hand, was about to gave Adam,
Apple will be stuck in his throat this - our voice.
They rustled and went into the house of cards,
They lined up in the hands of the sector, exchange of courtesies.
They bring deadly fashion,
Orange socks hidden in deception and poison.
Notes issued rustled like Siqun general sound,
Gold jingling, like a kiss,
Cigars, pipe eyes and flashing in the fog.
Suddenly, a gunshot! If the ball on the dance coach.
Chair, his back to tip over. Worms crawling slowly,
Offenders are enveloped in a halo center,
In the light, making continued
The world distribution of green and dust.
1926
Wang Jian Zhao translation
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Struggle with the fantasy
In fact it was a cow flying in the sky,
Plug in the light of the wings dog.
We are at a point half-time there,
Devote their entire lung capacity uttered a sigh.
Years if the race cyclist,
Quickly slip in the past under the window,
Only two of us, in addition to chance,
Vigilant attention to the tone zone marker.
Notes fingers sometimes higher, sometimes lower,
Caught us: Oh, Hoist!
Is the height of the your violin bow,
I was at the low tuning of the board.
Calvary different note, if a variety of diplomatic notes,
However, fate has tired of playing the piano.
Scores were close: Snapped! Intact.
We Boer Sa's dark night sleep.
If the midnight sun light, white light
Crawling slowly along a picture of music,
I had a dream: we give up the music stand, a dream!
We like the crowd wildly dressed, go out. We have passed away.
Between violin and bass in a pair of footsteps,
However, a cross-team running the hotel. Is actually a wall!
, What we like the house of a neighbor, chatting with each other across the fence, Oh!
If the truth of touch, out of reach, but close.
1926
Wang Jian Zhao translation
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Spring hell
To the ancient grams Georg von
This happens in that one evening, that one evening.
In the same room as the teapot boiling.
From the window into the excitement of the Bay out of love.
Can be "Love is not child's play,"
Can be "your naked shoulders."
In the panic of the waltz in the rotation,
General speeding and singing like a lion.
However, the door came crashing down, the doorbell began to bark.
Spring along the stairs quietly came up.
Suddenly, everyone remembered how lonely their own.
Shouting, alone! Incomparable to feel oppressed.
In the night of singing, roaring in the morning,
Dumb dumb in the park excitement in the evening,
Years from the dead to stand up on the couch,
Carrying a couch, as if carrying the stamps.
River rock, as if the asphalt ocean.
Motorboat sometimes channeling, sometimes sinking,
Sharks see the enemy afar tram,
Facing a road corridor nose spray fountain.
Without consideration in the waves rushed into the crowd
Wave board, fearlessly running,
Fruit color in Marin to feel the destruction of the sky
Weak and weak and sweet passion.
In that one evening, a book that recorded in the evening,
We are no longer afraid of the wind in the clamor.
Housing, as if the bodies of the dead soon,
Bend the body, full of noise,
Collapsed, filled with happiness, although not scientifically sound.
Air in the milk of the window shining on the wings flutter,
Fire in the spring if a dancer,
Open immortal hands where rotation.
1926
Wang Jian Zhao translation
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Stars Hell
Hey, you listen! Imitation of the nightingale crazy stars
Dazed in the garden to sleep thinking over the singing.
Angels leave the airship, silently come
With a loving smile foot ice.
She lit the flame of a cluster of green,
Over the ship, into the regression line of the night.
The first mate stood behind the rudder plate pale,
The female passenger lost in gazing at the sky.
Lost in the sound, in the mountains on fire,
Glass boy wearing snow clothes, where to sleep,
He started crying blinded,
Wildly as the smoke gradually integrated into the gentle glow.
Seemed to her: her hell open.
Her spin on the ball in the middle of the night.
Like a paper star general down to the ground,
Lying in the middle of her broken soul.
She suddenly wake up; chill drifted into the bush,
She flashes in the palm of Christ.
1926
Wang Jian Zhao translation
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Black Madonna
To Vladimir 安德列耶夫
Dark, beautiful, empty
Days of blue, showing a touch of purple.
Tram, people listless,
Some sacred head bowed,
Some happy head shaking.
Noon of the asphalt in the sleeping monitor.
If, in the air, in the dust haze, the
Train kept passing moment.
The footsteps of the crowd noise up
Cheap wire hanging lights,
In the barren forest clearing,
Clarinet and violin began to die.
Once again, the face pair of coffins,
Birth a magical sound.
From sweaty palms to the porter,
Musicians pay a double reward.
At that time, wearing a red uniform Colts
Sweating, tired of the festival,
Bring up the rear of the parade is artillery,
Indifferent to walk past.
In over his head, the smell of vomit,
Fireworks choking smoke and dust,
Fragrance, odor, noise of cavalry Jishan
Mixed with each other.
Supercilious young people
Boundless wide hem dress pants,
Short happy when I heard shooting,
Waves in the red moon flight.
Suddenly, the trombone sounds between the lips
Fog rotating sphere wailing.
In the deadly dreams, black Virgin Mary
Stretched out his hands, rudely shouting loudly.
And through the night, the sacred and the heat of hell,
Singing by Zi Yan in which the clarinet,
Walking a few hundred million years of snow
Began flying relentlessly.
1927
Wang Jian Zhao translation
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Death rose
To Georg Ivanov
We meet in the park black spring
Cheap bow quietly out of tune,
Death comes to the balloon,
People love to touch the shoulder.
Rose of the evening, the wind blowing rose.
Outline sketch of the poet in the fields.
Twilight Rose, Rose distributed the breath of death,
Green snow on the branches move.
Dark air oppressed stars
In the green ocean on the kiosk, the
Should and the sound of a motor, nightingale singing.
Tuberculosis of the gas in the combustion.
Ship drove towards the sky,
Elves on the bridge waving scarves,
Flashed through the dark air,
Engine at the viaduct on the singing.
The city toward the mountains to escape the dark,
Night in the ballroom next to the noisy,
The soldiers will leave the city,
High concentrations at the station in drinking beer.
Moon floating above the stage in simple,
Very low - very low, touch the soul,
However, there Boulevard, with the weak pipe music,
Waving hello merry wives.
Is infinite rose against the background of the spring,
Smiled and retreated towards the sky,
Heiqu Qu to open - blue fan,
A letter to clear the inscription: death.
1928
Wang Jian Zhao translation
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The spirit of music
Dance music over the clouds in the flashes,
Bright green leaves burning in the big door,
There vitality, and in ten steps, the
Night with the blue hair, the years drift to eternity.
Time in the roar, trumpet loud noise,
We dance our lives,
The moon to see so many drunk
Sleep in a pair of rose and leaf mold, grin.
And with the trumpet call to be in the mysterious abyss above
Carrying bright flags on the shoulders, as if a pair of wings,
Inspired by the heroic step dancers walk,
Confusion of the night like a torch in the flashing.
They laugh, cry and sad,
Rose thrown into the stars of the reflective, the
High lift some of the mystery books
Silently across the bridge, go the distance.
All gone, off, broken,
And the music was calling: "singing in unison, to move forward."
Compassion in the alley broken hands,
Call people to kill music.
May angels playing quietly.
Their voices faintly discernible: grass, flowers and children,
Dancers spinning, gently kissing,
Then in another star on awakening.
They feel that they open in hell,
The distance is a blue air.
In the night garden, the spirit of music
Zhanlu Nightingale mysterious smile, sank fantasy.
Dance has ended. Dawn burst on the scene, a quiet,
Only death bouncing a thin metal hand,
Pray for the souls of the dead,
Across the river the sun rise up quietly.
1929
Wang Jian Zhao translation
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Stationary in the sky in winter
Stationary in the sky in winter,
Had gone blue reflective.
Lighting retreat. The hustle and bustle of life about to disappear,
Snow was born in the silence hour.
Snowflakes slowly falling in the easy stage, the
Falls on a long strip of tape,
The open grove, dirty highway bar,
Scarves wrapped tightly cap the statue.
In the dead of the avenue above the snow kingdom open
Leaving obvious traces of a road.
People breathe in the steam room,
To go into how horrible the white garden.
Where everything becomes high and blue.
That is homeless snow hell
Standing dead and happy
Shop window in the black.
Sleep. Quilt to lie down to go.
Got into the warm bed as if the coffin.
Delays tram listening to the roar.
Do not eat, do not light up.
Dreamed distant, dreamed of the future.
Do not wake us, we are too weak.
Happy chill, snow, wind honor
Blowing in the wilderness on our souls.
Some people will never again know
What is the writing, reading what
In the early morning, dirty snow is melting,
Trams in the snow towards the light flashing in the distance.
1931.12.27
Wang Jian Zhao translation
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Do not tell me about the silence of snow
Do not talk about my silence snowflakes.
I have slept for a long time, no longer young,
Train emergency brake, stay in the water's edge,
I will suddenly wake up from a dream.
Transparent leaves and burning of grass,
The death of their deep, can be more profound is the resurrection.
I suddenly realize that the world of spring
So beautiful, so happy, so fair.
We looked at a large field of crops,
Talk endlessly with everything,
Everything just in pain and happiness of the border,
I hope the rain is long suffering and happiness.
Even in the mist-shrouded mountains,
Thunder in the sky to hide behind their own,
Can at the same time, the beach behind
Bright sun and water gathered together.
Was briefly stimulated new happiness,
Forget the winter had given the torture,
It meets in the new blue sky,
Live in the sky on his back to noise.
Life is flashing, it is very close from the prizes,
It is jealous of their work in the winter,
Everything around with a happy,
Listen to everything, waiting for itself.
Silent and his face wearing a lazy smile,
Birds have to talk to you in the bushes,
Understand why you so happy,
Lapping of waves flashing your happiness.
Ice cream sold under the umbrella girl,
Like a stray flower,
In the low lighthouse behind, sailing away,
In the melting of curling up in a black spot in the sky.
1932
Wang Jian Zhao translation
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Music in the sun on the water
Music in the sun on the water,
Coast from the cliff towards the sea,
Forest flowers, spring clouds
Emit white smoke in the morning dissipated.
Out my soul once again the darkness of winter,
In the mountains behind in the gray agave,
Started the whole world in my eyes,
It is painful and the sun entertainment world.
Orange and yellow pine in silence to the land
Flowing. The distance a faint voice
Reminded me, while listening to the sea,
While leisurely splash the edge of the earth.
Silent spring. I do not understand all languages,
How excited I am, my breathing and how easy it is.
I once again here. Once again, I am excited
I do not have the power to stop anything.
Surf noise in the cable network,
Bubble splash, race rushed the streets,
The initial wind unusually young -
His soul has forgotten everything.
The sky was covered with a deep blue,
Clouds to find the sun spinning,
Wildly like a flame of tape rotation,
Quickly slide the glass in general sky.
In the magical golden slide in
Subject to unexpected fate,
In the light shine in, no longer Advantages and Disadvantages,
Bear the humiliation, not for their own cry.
I am lying on the warm stone south to spend, forget
Have suffered a long ordeal, let love emerge.
The sun's glare, I eyes closed,
Once again, love you, love you forever.
1934
Wang Jian Zhao translation
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Home from the sky
To 尼波斯特尼 Bokova
Words can not control the fate of the soul,
In light rain, we come again,
Spring break wind in the islands,
Dust in the virtual lack of sunlight flicker.
Forest cover the earth, hear the faint sound of splashing,
Rain lashes gently provocative,
It is safe to sleep in the stars pine,
Seems completely forget to breathe and survive.
Marin empty fruit shade covered in flying,
From the leaden sky down to the grass.
What a quiet, dear, you listen,
It is brown melting ice on the shore.
You see, nothing of the gentle fields
And I love how similar.
It is once again in the wake of light rain,
Can no longer live, just keep what memories.
In the shadow of light - is a dry field.
Last summer, in the bright sky,
In the golden shackles of the earth to endure the torment,
Waiting for rain, as painful and broken.
With thunder rumbling, the sun in the haze of flashing,
Books change color as lightning,
However, in the fall, only to be burned forest
Until finally the long-awaited peace.
Spring calm, those who know you,
Who will never leave the earth.
In the cold sky, in the joy of prayer,
Familiar with the roads swallows in flight.
From the sky to go home, return to the sound of grass rustled slightly,
Returned from the distant steep slopes,
Do not want to live too close to the sun next to the
They fly, they will soon return.
In the lead-gray sky, Marin fruit shade cover
Like spring spooky budge out of him.
In the tomb of the dark, dreaming in vain -
You can not guess the life of quiet spring break.
Happiness is so unknown to open.
That is, low room, and me and you.
Rain noise in the shadow of stumps.
We long to listen, afraid to speak.
1934
Wang Jian Zhao translation
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Memory
Forest in a noisy clothes off
Sick in the water a holy soul
Fall naked bath in the dew
The whole image so that the eyes closed quietly
Water, a magical forest in the hustle and bustle
The soul does not exist in the blue sky and space.
Wang Jian Zhao translation
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Moon in light blue on the piano
Moon in light blue on the piano
Playing a Serenade
We hid behind the colonnade
Lean over to watch and wait
But that people are more afraid than any person of sound
But it's back to hitting
Moon glass clown no longer silent
Silver excessive blood loss
Its head rolled to the
Black short distance behind the trees
Do not the moon. Moon executioner
Live in glass house in the snow
His years in the balloon
Quietly into space
All gone, he has forgotten
Have killed off their own
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Happy and sad poker cards
Happy and sad poker cards
Quietly dropped from the sky on the window sill
But do not people tend to live
Everyone looks into the distance eyes closed
Where all the peaceful and open
Everyone in the neighborhood of the sound and painful
How horrible to being spilled
Back to how absurd life
Despair and happiness as a gold
Thrown into the sea under the sun
Blue eyes open
Golden books close
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Chains on the basement walk in the sun
Chains on the basement walk in the sun
Where a huge display of books
Give all the doors and windows open book
Leading to a different kind of fantasy world and
Deep in the tomb, in prison
Mass held in the ground
Perhaps, close to where the hell away from the
Flowers regular phone rings
There away from the world of watches
Singing in the fire and sad
Oh to the basement and living room open!
Wang Jian Zhao translation
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Street lit his own fire
Street lit his own fire
Yang Qi sparkling water waves
Poor people put up collar
Clouds cover the streets
Some quiet, cold - in the abyss, we are alone
You and I together
Behind the iron fence
Behind in the basement rocks
Behind the thick walls
Lay a golden trumpet
Christ sitting in a chair
He is sleep
Hands clenched golden trumpet
Christ is about to wake up
Wang Jian Zhao translation
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Empty room filled with glass
Empty room filled with glass
A small roof where the growth of shrubs in
Time in the dam where the black noise
Still afraid to return to the sea
Sun_set_ quietly tapping plant
Where the wheels of life frozen in the singing
First, the glass falling sewer
They shine the moon, the moon rock that they
Birds singing in the empty white cloud
Years down the big rope hide midnight
Alcohol in the black bird was parched
The sun is back. Ask for help in the day
Meditation in the factory rolling wheels
Wang Jian Zhao translation
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Immortal soul shaking water blue moon
Immortal soul shaking water blue moon
Spring flowers in the mosque in the flame burning
Sun_set_ glass, blue sky mania
Newspapers divine command
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The fate of the ankle made by the gold
The fate of the ankle made by the gold
Stomach - made by the dawn of the dawn
Chest - made of glass
Hand - made of steel
Its head cut from a newspaper from last year
The eyes, the eyes opened to all winds,
Drift of the balloon to its journeyman
There are flags, tools and a huge church
Egyptian production of the game cards
Then close your eyes, thunder rang in the earth
Over the time like an angel, through the airship
And looked out the window brothels,
Significant display of the finger.
Poetry suddenly born, all noise in the rain
And crying, wet street posters on the streets of the stream
The leaves tend to forget literature
Crime.
Wang Jian Zhao translation
  
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