中英双语诗选 （顾爱玲 译）
Anliang, the Town and the Word
First, mark it on the map, then
mark it on your body, so part of what happened is lit up,
and the word follows a cycle of rising and falling.
This should be thought about from a few years ago,
when a woman walked out of a red rock cavern,
her body wrapped in homespun cloth, and she created us, created
the torso of heaven and earth’s paired joy and tragedy, and knowledge—
and the word Anyang:peaceful people. I see this is her embroidery needle,
performed several times, cruel deeds
will be hung in the air. Like nailing down a crime,
shaking out dirt, the sharp songs of boys and girls,
using love to build a house.
But terrible situation is that people’s desires
are blackened by the growing smoke.
Next a greater darkness spreads,
like several waves of pillaging and despoiling villages,
a heavy rain, a huge fire, a prank,
I can see the countless struggling hands and feet.
Crying out in pain, they say:
“Just chop me off with a sword….”
But I can’t, I can’t let these insignificant things get hurt again.
My simple thought is, seize hold of those bad little ears,
that fine dust, those black caves,
those sins of extravagant hope, and hide away at the scene of birth,
a bit of calm, love, the root of the words peaceful life
2.15.2004
安良这个镇或词
先把它标进地图，再把它
标进身体，事件就有了明亮的部分，
这个词就有了循环的枯荣。
这要推算到若干年前，
红石山洞中走出的一个女子，
土布裹体，她创造了我们，创造
天地同喜悲的胴体，和知识——
安良这个词。我考察这是她的绣花针，
表演了几次，暴劣的事
就悬挂起来。像钉住了罪，
摊平了土，锐声歌唱的少男少女，
用爱建造一所房屋。
而糟糕的情形是，人的欲望，
它被膨胀的烟火熏黑。
接着是更大的黑暗扩展，
就像镇子里的几起抢劫或暴掠，
一场大雨，一次大火，一个恶作剧，
我就能看见无数挣扎的脚和手。
它们，在喊疼，它们说：
“用一把利剑斩了我……”
但我不能，不能再让卑微的事物受伤。
我简单的想法是，揪住坏的小耳朵，
那些微尘，那些黑洞，
那些奢望的原罪，在出生的现场消隐，
一点点平静，爱，安居这个词根
2004.2.15
Fresh Snow
This is called fresh snow. It comes too soon,
as autumn continues its irregular motions,
its flames extinguished.
Now everyone rummages through last year’s clothing like memories,
you say, there was no transition at all,
that toppling feeling came pressing down nimbly from your sky.
The yearning people are on the snowy ground, like dancers,
full of joy.
The snow falls, the snow is falling silently,
and now it radiates oddly,
covering what people don’t want to see, the society’s turbulence,
the dust on the road.
Snow is falling, you say, it’s the soul of winter,
its utter whiteness makes people uneasy.
11.11.2009
新雪
这叫新雪。这来得太早了，
秋天还在继续它的不规则运动，
火焰直接熄灭。
每个人，这时像回忆一样在翻找上年的暖衣，
你说，一点过渡都没有，
倾覆感就从你的天空曼妙地压下来。
渴望的人在雪地上，像舞者，
幸福得要死。
雪落下，又好像在翻腾，
从楼道里传过来几下无法躲藏的猫叫，
然后世界就无声息了，
雪在下，雪无声地下着，
它在这时候发出奇特的光芒，
盖住了人们不愿见的社会旋涡，
还有马路灰尘。
雪在下着，你说，它是冬天的灵魂，
它彻底的白让人不放心。
2009.11.11
Impasse
A kind of toxin, making disappointment
mix with the night’s darkness to stab at me.
At first it was like an excited child, then
it was an enormous vessel, dragging me under.
The ocean. So enormous
even the bulwarks can’t catch hold of it, and are soon suffocated.
Dark, stifling. What’s going on with this world?
How are there so many fish bonesIhave to spit out.
I’m on the edge of death. This is easy,
like a turn disappearing in the night, or
is it a precipice…a crazy fall, oh, I get it,
I’m surfing, how exciting,
in the moment I have a seething sense of self.
Swimming fish, broken images. Suddenly empty. Can the world
be anything but cold? Now a voice
calls to me warmly. Is it you? I’m thirsty.
4.5.2011
绝境
一种毒素，让绝望
掺和着黑夜的颜色刺向我。
起初它像兴奋的孩儿，后来
是一艘巨轮，拖着我下沉。
海。真大啊，
连船舷也抓不住，快窒息了。
很暗，很闷。这世界怎么了？
怎会这么多鱼刺，我吐。
我就要死了。这真容易，
像一转弯消失在黑夜，抑
或悬崖……狂颠，噢，明白了，
我在冲浪，太刺激了，
这会儿有了沸腾的自我感。
游鱼，碎影。突然空白。世界
能否不冷？这时一个声音
温暖地叫我。是你吗？我渴。
2011.4.5
Praise
They are walking by the Sandy River, backlit.
The swaying waterweeds seem to walk too.
This whole afternoon, the weeds belong to them,
two waterbirds sink into the unscrupulous plot.
In the distance is a bridge, but for the moment don’t think of it
because of the bridge’s far end, life marches on.
Nothing is more transparent
than these backlit objects, outside of time,
they are thinking nothing, letting the lush
grassy banks extend out endlessly.
They’re on a grassy road, or else
there is no road, they’re just exchanging their loneliness,
and then carrying water back to wash clothing. It’s so real,
and so empty. Sandy River has no sand,
the overgrown cogon grasses displace their worn out
daytime thoughts. “Wake up.”
But they haven’t been asleep, under the light
what’s sleeping are shadows, they’ve just given up
on time, created legends in legends,
sent death off to hide. “Have you heard the harmony
of a heart?” Now walking
and walking, they become each other’s light.
And the light is softly singing with the sound of the reeds.
10.3.2012
赞美
在沙河的逆光中，他们走着。
飘摇的水草也貌似走着。
整个下午的芦荻属于他们，
两只水鸟沉入无所顾忌的剧情。
远处是一座桥，暂不想它
因桥的尽头，生活还在进行。
没有什么比这逆光下的事物更
透明的了，缘于时间之外，
他们什么也不想，让丰美的
草滩无限远地蔓延。
他们只在一条草路上，抑或
没有路，他们彼此仅交换孤独，
然后提水洗衣。这多么真实，
又多么虚无。沙河无沙，
疯长的茅草置换了平日里他们
过于疲惫的思想。“醒醒。”
但他们从来没有睡去，光线下
睡着的是影子，他们只是抛弃了
时间，在传说中制造传说，
让死亡消隐。“你听过心脏的
和声吗？”这时，他们走着
走着就成彼此的光了。
这光以芦荻的声音在轻声歌唱。
2012.10.3
White Turtle Lake, on a Turbulent Afternoon
The waves are slowly pushing toward us. Or the waves
are suddenly upon us, dark and billowing by nature.
In the distance is a fishing boat, even farther is a faint isolated island,
who knows what’s beyond that, we’re just where we are,
thinking nothing, letting the water of time create simplicity,
so much so that years later we’ll cherish this water, still holding tight to it,
and at the same time holding tight to our secretly happy little drama,
and that peace we’ve never lost from our hearts.
For us, this is vital, one moment developing
another moment. Strolling casually,
we went through yesterday’s rain, entirelytrusting, and the afternoon’s light
was much more kind. Then the waves pushed the fine sand,
and pushed us, and who knows where it will go?
The grassy beach is puddled, a stone has replaced the temporary bridge,
but most of the time the bridge is in our hearts, like
faith, like love, magically echoing, without any of the separations
between the mountains and lakes. This afternoon we spoke of the south shore,
like it exists between reality and dream, and the reeds grow wild there,
hinting to us, letting us accept these waves,
letting time stop in the brightness to accept the sunlight off the scaled water,
letting the waves have even longer waves. If we
don’t leave, the autumn evening’s violin will send off the sound of the waves.
9.19.2012
白龟湖，水波涌的下午
水波正在徐缓地朝我们涌来。或者水波
一向都在我们的身体里，暗涌成性。
远处是一条渔船，再远处是一个渺茫的孤岛，
再远就不知了，我们只是在我们的情境里，
什么也不想，让时间之水制造单纯，
以至于若干年后怀念起这片水域，还能握住它，
一同握住的还有我们暗自愉悦的短剧，
以及我们内心那不曾丢失的安宁。
对于我们，这多么重要，一个时刻做了
另一时刻的显影器。那就随便走走吧，
我们经过昨日之雨、透彻信任，下午的光线
可亲多了。这时水波推动细沙，
也在推动着我们，不知道还会去哪里？
草滩有些水坑，一块石头充任了临时的桥，
但多数时候我们的桥在心里，就像
信念，像爱，很神奇地呼应着，没有哪些
山水的阻隔。这个下午我们说到南岸，
像在现实和梦幻之间，那里的芦苇长成野性，
给我们以暗示，让我们接受这些水波，
让时间停在明净处接受来自水面鳞状的阳光，
让水波拥有更持久的水波。如果我们
不离开，秋夜的小提琴还会把水波弄出动静。
2012-9-19