中英雙語詩選（王大建 譯）
你走了
沒有看你說什麽，
你的疲倦我也沒有看見。
辦公室外，蔥蘢的樹丫被緑色籠罩，
一年四季沒有變化，
倒是樹後面的山時隱時現，
藏着一些超自然的能量。
你坐在左邊，談着一米之外的事情：
生活與負債，愛情與家庭，
還有協議，一些你省略的焦慮。
窗外連蒼蠅都帶着人性化的飛痕，
然後在安靜中享受早餐。
從你的頭，往外，我註意到
鳥兒在樹枝上跳躍，蝴蝶帶着花粉
在樹葉上飛起，又停下。
清晨的陽光照射出，撒下不少陰影。
陰影下，你的輪廓突出，臉沒有表情，
你坐在窗邊，紫色的窗簾反射着光，
像花園裏細細密密的露珠。
房間外，門被風輕輕吹開，
秋天的涼意頓時彌漫在整個房間。
從你握住門把手那刻開始，
你開始新的生活。門被你關上。你走了。
You Hit the Road
I didn’t catch you saying anything
Neither did I notice your exhaustion
The office is overshadowed by lush green twigs
And lush and green they remain throughout the seasons
Only the distant hills flick through
Lurking within them is some supernatural energy
You sat on the left, talking of the things at your arm’s length
Life and debt, family and affection
And the agreements, insinuating worries
Outside the window, even flies flew as humans would
Before enjoying their breakfast in peace
My eyes roamed over your head, out of the window,
And fell upon the birds hopping, the butterflies with pollen
Winging off, and dipping again on the leaves
The morning sun’s casting generous shades
On your profile, your protruding features, without expression
You sat by the window, the purplish curtain diffusing the light
Like a garden sprayed with morning dews
From outside, a breeze timidly pushed the door ajar
The autumn chill at once filled up the room
The moment you grabbed the door knob
You started anew, you shut the door, you hit the road
蒼老
想起自己的一生，已經老了。
沒有回城的班車，也沒有霧，
山下，是山楂樹的愛情。
我在愛中神遊，
而故國已近黃昏。
像一個垂危的老者，
在屋內收集着過錯，以及字上的傷疤。
坐在輪椅上，
推走我的是蒼老中的病痛，
我的女人，在門外看着夕陽。
風一如既往地在翻墻而入。
一株害羞的鼕青樹看着，
我的青春吹皺一池的荷花。
每天下午，一些老者在橋上瞌睡，
他們的面目一如俠士，在民間流傳。
沒有血管中的內傷。
金沙江畔，落花流水匯集能量，
我的整個生活黯淡無光。
睡着了，如睡眠般平靜，
在夢中我一邊糾正錯字，一邊擦着眼睛。
Savaged by Time
As I think about life, I’ve already been savaged by time
No more bus back to town, no fog around
At the foot of the hills, hawthorns are in love
While my soul is strolling in their midst
My home country is sneaking to dusk
Like any aged one barely breathing
I’m gathering the blunders, and verbal scars
As I sit in a wheelchair at home
Being wheeled away by my senile suffering
My woman is outside, eyes fixed on the sun_set_’s glow
The wind is crawling over the wall as usual
A shy holly brush is watching
My youth being rumpled like the pond’s lotus-petals
Every afternoon, some seniors lean on the bridge and doze off
Their features like those of the legendary justice-doers, widely retold
My blood vessels remain as intact
As the Jinsha River, current drifting flowers and mustering
power
My whole life is lusterless and dim
I ‘m asleep, as peaceful as I’m deeply so
And correcting typos and dabbing eyes in a dream
情 歌
我不會住進你的骨髓。
哪怕所有的房子都倒塌，
所有的江河都遭殃。
我依然不會，不會白白去愛，
那些遊來遊去，遊手好閑的
雲朵。哪怕所有藍天都照進你的
骨頭，你擁有的芳香是稀有的金屬。
我也不會去鋼鐵裏傾聽。
哪怕父親衹剩下一口爛鍋，
女兒沒有文具盒。
我會端來黑色的琴凳，
在那架生銹的鋼琴旁，
聽你色斑蒼蒼的雙手彈奏，
那首一百年前老掉牙的情歌。
即使那樣的聲音我依然不愛。
我嫌棄屋前的江山，也嫌棄門後的河水。
在一塊老得起青苔的瓦片上，
寫下我的愛，畫一幅會說話的青銅器。
我希望你能看盡人世間百態，
那些會說話的骨頭，生銹的緑銅，
會記下我的腳步，我的遺囑。
我希望你不要去擺弄桌上的煙斗，
書籍，鍵盤，那是我通嚮死亡的入口。
A Lover’s Song
I’d never squeeze into your bones for shelter
Even if all the houses had crumbled
And all the rivers had been ruined, in a disaster
I’d still refuse to waste my affection
For those clouds loitering or hanging idle
Even if your bones are soaked with the tint of the sky
What you possess is the scent of a rare metal
I wouldn’t put my ears to iron and steel
Though all father has is a wok broken
And daughter doesn’t have a pencil box
I would fetch a black music stool
And sit by that rusty piano
Listening to your tainted hands play
That century-old ballad of passion
Even that would not stir up my love
I hate the landscape in front of the house, and the river behind it
Only on a moss-shrouded tile
Would I spell LOVE, and sketch a talking bronze craft
I hope you won’t lose sight of any worldly dramas
Nor of blabbering skeletons or green-crusted copper
I hope you’ll place my foot-prints, and My Will, in record
I hope you’ll not fumble that pipe on the table
Or books, or the keyboard, out of which my life is to tumble
曾蒙Zeng Meng，中國四川達縣渡市人，原名冉超，現供職於中國四川攀枝花市中心醫院，畢業於西南大學。16 歲開始發表大量作品，並被收入多種選本，為當代中國七零後代表詩人之一。前期創辦中國藝術批評網，後創辦中國南方藝術網。出版詩集《故國》《世界突然安靜》等。
Zeng Meng was born in Sichuan, China. He published his first poems at 16. He is the founder of China Artistic Critique and Arts of Southern China (two websites). His publications include Home Country and The World Suddenly Quiets Down.