outland poetry
anthology
诗选
Jules Supervielle
Zhu Yan
Throughout his life,
He likes
Reading by candlelight
He often hands
Passing Zhu Yan,
So he convinced
He is still alive,
He is alive.
Since his death,
His side
Leave a burning candle,
But he hid his hand.
(Rollo translation)
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Life Like
This is good to live down
A place full of vitality
And constantly beating heart
Placed a time
This is good to see your own hands
On earth
If the small garden
Apple handles the above effect
This is good, love the earth,
Moon and the sun
Like falling in love
Unparalleled in the world of relatives,
This is good to the world
Dedicated to the memory
As the flash of the cavalry
Luo his black horse,
This is good. So that the "woman", "children" of these words
With a capacity of near,
And to the floating continent
As the coast,
This is good scratching paddle
Visit Soul
To avoid a sudden close
Frightened soul.
This is good, under the leaves
Understanding of the shadow,
Well the years was
Climb naked body,
This is very good, accompanied with bitter black blood
Into our blood
Star with the patient
Yellowing its silence,
This is good, with these words,
They move in mind,
This is good. People who choose not so beautiful
As they prepared a feast,
This is good, feel that life is short
Not pleasant,
This is good, shut it
This poem.
(Hu Xiaoyue translation)
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Portrait
Mother, I do not understand how people find that the deceased,
I lost my soul, it's fair face of those obstacles,
Jing thorn that it and its between those eyes.
Help me on the lips from those dazzling startling vision of the buildings
Come back to my line in,
Help me to be silent now,
Isolation that many of our actions, and many cruel hounds!
I deign to silence you babbling formed,
Shake your soul in the branches of an albedo.
Ah! In your photo,
I even do not see what your eyes to the side of the float.
However, we, your portrait and myself. But together,
So to not be separated
In addition to no one that we passed
The secret place
Our pace is similar,
We are wonderful to climb the hills and mountains.
Those slopes in the hands of the injured, as no as to the game
A large candle night flowing, sputtering to the dawn of the face -
That's a heavy day from the dead middle of the bed up,
Half of suffocation,
The dawn of the delay could not recognize himself.
My mother, my grim talking to you,
I have said harsh words to the dead, because we should
Standing on the roof of slippery,
Hands on both sides of the mouth. And with a tone of anger
We want to neutralize that isolated living and the dead
Deafening silence, and speak to them grim.
I have a few pieces of your jewelry,
Like the river flowing down from the fragments of winter,
In doing this there is "impossible" Prisoner of the moon
Got up and trying and trying again fails
Collapse of the night,
In a box at the end of this shining night is your bracelets.
This land is now so weak you me, once was so strong to you,
The two of us are so firmly nailed together, actually should be the same die,
Like the blind in that the fish began to
A dazzling horizon
Hinder each other in the Atlantic Ocean to swim underwater
Another quick fix to play the two and a half drowned sailor
Because you was me,
I can look at a garden and do not want something else,
You can choose between one of my eyes,
I can go to Reception.
Maybe now in my nails, the
Still have your piece of nail,
Between my eyelashes still a sheep crowding forward to your eyelashes;
If you mix in a heartbeat in my heart,
I will recognize it in that some of them between
And I will remember it.
But the mind smooth and very prudent
I peered askance
Twenty-year-old whom I weep,
Your heart is jumping it? You have no heart, and
You leave my life, as if you are as your own sister.
What Dounong you do not abandon the old is that piece tunic,
It has a very gentle way into the eternal
And changing the color from time to time, but I was the only want to know.
Cicada brass, bronze lion, snake belly clay
What is not here live it!
The only life in the surrounding
Is the sigh of my deception lies.
Here, in my wrist
Mineral is the end of the pulse of the deceased were
It is closer to the body
Cemetery when he heard the kind of formation.
(Dai translation)
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Endangered whisper
Do not be surprised,
Close your eyes,
Until they become
Real stone.
Let the children danced the heart,
Even though it will eventually stop,
It will slope in the hidden
Beating, for it yourself.
Hands will be stretched
Their boat in the cold
The broad forehead
As the two armed forces
A Kongkuo place.
(Rollo translation)
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This is the noise of the sea ... ...
This sea of noise, we are there,
Puff hair is a familiar sea of trees, and
And that dark horse into the sea, until the shoulders wet,
Elongated neck as if to drink sweet water,
If it is to leave the sandbar,
The myth of the horse into a far
And that flock together 悠游 foam,
And that pleasing mix of wool,
Word: into the sea son,
Eat seaweed, in that the deep sea.
But it must know how to shore to wait time,
Until you allow yourself into that sea waves,
It hopes in the inevitable death, the
To its head once again falls in the grass.
(Rollo translation)
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Forest
In an old forest,
A tall tree was felled.
A vertical void
Tremor, the formation of a tree trunk,
In that fallen tree.
When It also rustling,
To find it, find it, birds,
Remember that high in years,
Where your nest.
(Rollo translation)
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