为进一步繁荣新时代诗歌，推动汉语诗歌走向世界，激励本土诗人们创作出具有世界影响力的优秀作品，中国诗歌网与美国华盛顿PATHSHARERS BOOKS（出版有季刊21st Century Chinese Poetry）合作开展汉诗英译活动。《诗刊》每期刊登的诗作及中国诗歌网“每日好诗”中的佳作，将有机会被译成英语，刊于21st Century Chinese Poetry，并在中国诗歌网做专题展示。
Antique Night Market
If you haven't been here, you have no way
of getting into the heart of it.
Going alone won't let you see what's what.
Two people are perfect.
A group of three looks unauthentic.
One place is happy to peddle to women and children.
The other place, if one does not stay calm,
those iron and copper and utensils, recently unearthed or cast out,
may have to be reburied or return underground.
Red lipsticks, and long hair of the deceased,
weapons and wine cups, every item kowtow on the ground.
A personal favorite is being touched on the face by everyone,
during one of the journeys her beauty began to fade,
quite like the one coming, busy losing his helmet and armor.
The thing deserted by time
is something free of any tints.
Put a river in it, you will see a clearer reflection
of yourself, and fish swimming more freely in it.
Put the sky in it, you will see
a purer blue and lighter clouds.
But I can't put all the roads I've traveled in it,
some of them have muddy twists and turns,
best left alone for weeds to take over.
I can't put all the words I said in it,
for some of them were lies and will douse the flickers of life.
In fact, I have tried
to put myself in it,
I want to see the truer version of me,
so true that you can see through it,
and I wonder if
it will forgive me, the way I am.
Quick, seize the boatman's oars from under his sleepy head. Go,
paint a wild wide river, with blue birds over it.
Quick, get hold of the emptiness in the wilds, the silence in the forest,
let them cover everything and cover you—with faint, crisp, sounds.
The cicadas, until now dormant, are in the air.
This is a time of unparalleled beauty.
Quick, take the snow from Mount Everest, carve your name on it.
With flimsy wings, our beings glide over a red road.
Quick, find the ageless moonlight and goblets from our wordbook.
You said, the future is thin, but wings are thinner. Go! Let it be July,
immortalize it with heavenly horses, and a scorching sun.
After saying goodbye to you, I come to the sea by myself.
The sea is huge compared to the bustling land
where I live.
I don't know the real purpose of coming here,
perhaps to be alone with the words you said.
The sun is locked away for being too boisterous,
therefore the world feels refreshing for a while.
It's time to say goodbye, at the station
you said what you wanted to say.
and I am still in a daze from that sentence,
and take it with me to the beach, while the words are still young,
let them bathe, let them play with
the crabs, shrimps, and shellfish, and I will lie down
on the sandy beach delivered here by the sea.
I open my heart: it is still very young,
still ebbs and flows with the tides.
Yes, jellyfish, I recently read about them in a book.
They are transparent just like glass.
I reach out my hands, and these glass balls steal away,
so much like the words you said to me:
invisible like glass, translucent, and illusory.
Summer will soon be a thing of the past.
I am staying here in my world,
under a vaulted sky, above the horizon.
Every day I worry about many things,
such as nuclear warheads, water,
black holes, infinite stars.
What worries me basically
has nothing to do with my life.
I am not a good drunk,
and once in a while, total blackout occurs,
another me is let out,
to give myself a lecture.
I fear heights, I am gluttonous, timid.
I use stuttering as an antidote
to a hundred poisons.
汉诗英译” 同步更新于美国“21st Century Chinese Poetry”网站
一 键 关 注