汉诗英译：张作梗、田法、李琦、南秋、张新泉-凯发娱乐亚洲

那微妙的

微小的

针孔里走骆驼的

从任一方向看去都像微末的飞蓬

要钻进我眼睛里的

那轮椅下战栗的地面

那空中察觉不到的雨星儿

那微澜，那从手指缝里迸出的啜泣

那一粒倒春寒也捂不熄的嫩芽儿

那滑过我脸颊的

流星的抚摸

那微妙的

微小的

像春天的麦芒儿拂过我心尖的吹息……

——它们聚沙成塔

构成了我卑微而顽强的一生

这些微茫的

比一秒钟还小的东西

当我完整地拥有了它们

我感觉我比宇宙还大

是它们的轻，让我获得了生命的重量——

我因此像谷穗

低下头来。

选自《诗刊》2018年8月号

a humble poem

the inexplicable

tiny

eye of a needle that lets a camel walk through,

the camel that looks like a small tumble weed

will now enter my eye.

the earth that shudders under the wheelchair,

the rain’s glitter that falls through the air undetected,

those sobs that faintly ripple between the fingers,

the tender bud unaffectedby the cold spell in spring…

the meteor shower

that slid by and caressed my cheeks,

the inexplicable

tiny

bristles of spring wheat that brushed against my heart…

— each of them a grain of sand that built the pagoda 

my humble and tenacious life.

things infinitesimal,

smaller than a second,

but when i hold them all,

i feel larger than the universe.

when i gather all of their lightness,

i feel all the things that make up my life —

therefore, i bend

like a sheaf of wheat.

张晓静的秋天是忙碌的

连眼角的鱼尾纹

也顾不上舒展

就要去地里干活

葡萄熟了。而作为她的男人

我只是隔三差五才能回来一趟

以至邻居见了我，都笑着说

回来帮忙来了

仿佛，秋天只是她一个人的

潜意识已把我

忽略。张晓静的秋天

我更像她的一个雇工

选自《诗刊》2018年7月号

zhang xiaojing’s autumn

by tian fa 

a busy time for zhang xiaojing in the autumn.

even before her crowfeet can relax,

she has to be in the field for the day’s work.

the grapes are ripe. as her husband,

i can only afford to come home now and then.

therefore when my neighbors see me, they are all smiles:

“you are here to lend a hand.”

it seems as if autumn is hers only,

and dreamlike i have been left out.

for zhang xiaojing, autumn is here,

and i'm more like one of her hired hands.

真是悲哀，被深深吸引的地方

我又一次力不从心

面色苍白，嘴唇乌青

几乎奄奄一息。“你这是高原反应”

我这可怜的、来自低处的人

肉身的尴尬和沉重

本身已形成隐喻或者提醒

天地大美，我却如此不堪

连呼吸都开始困难，如弥留之际

绝美的雪山和湖水

大自然最为幽微神奇的地方

那些魂魄之处，必有玄妙和暗藏的机密

而此刻，这一切正逐渐对我关闭

高原，这个词是泡开的雪菊

颜色渐深，缓慢散发着清冽的凉意

我是过客，即便来过数次

也只能是拾取领悟的碎屑

更为懂得，什么是局限

有些暗示，竟是从晕眩中获得

比如，什么叫作——适可而止

你看，那和牦牛在草地上玩耍的孩子

简直金光闪闪！那是默契的光芒

那个孩子，他张着两臂奔跑

随时都会飞起来，变成云朵或者星宿

远处，一群矫健的小羚羊

听到动静，忽然怔住，蓦然转身

头颅的轮廓，那么优美

停顿一秒，而后，它们似有所悟

继续奔跑，轻盈的身姿

飘逸如幻觉

选自《诗刊》2018年8月号

limitations

by li qi            

so sad — to be deeply attracted to a place,

but with no way of getting near even though the heart is willing.

my face turns pale, lips turn purple, death awaits.

"what you have is about of altitude sickness."

here i am, a wretched creature from the lowland.

a body weighed down by clumsiness

— a metaphor itself or are minder that

heaven and earth are indeed grandiose,

unlike my deplorable state,

laboring to breathe as i lay dying.

these snow-capped mountain sand lakes,

this is where nature’s soul resides,

with hidden power and magic to enchant and hypnotize,

but now, all of them are gradually taken away from me.

what was a lofty plateau earlier is now a wet chrysanthemum,

looking grimmer and grimmer, unfurling a steely chilliness.

a transient only, but i have visited and revisited this place,

still, all that i picked upwere fragments of illumination,

and the constant reminder of my limitations.

this dizziness is giving away clues,

here let me give you one: better to desire in small proportions.

look, the meadow sparkles with children playing with yaks,

a sign that everything fits together naturally.

a child running with open arms

can take off any time now, and he may turn into a cloud or a star.

in the distance, a herd of handsome gazelles

hear something, freeze as if in a trance before swiftly turning around.

look at the beautiful outline of their skulls.

they pause before dashing off again.

did something just enlighten them?

they look like fairies

floating gracefully through the air.

这么长久的雷声却不见大雨落下

我必须引以为戒了

至少，我必须认真地倾听剖析它们的来路

这多么像长嚎之人却不见眼泪落下

这多么像蓄势已久的朗诵却不见一句台词

这多么像一座大房子敞开着却不见一人出入

这多么像道士忘我地念念有词地做法事却不见一名至亲在场

这多么像长篇巨著中未有一个主角现身

或许，这世界只是个虚拟

只有雷声是真实的

或许，恰恰相反雷声虽然通天，却未必通晓人间

或许，雷声言不达意

我们已经入木三分

选自中国诗歌网“每日好诗”栏目

the rumble of thunder, 

metaphorically speaking

by nan qiu            

no sign of heavy rain despite the incessant rumble of thunder.

a premonition that i better heed.

at least i should be fully attentive to analyzing the source.

a lot like someone crying along cry but there are no tears.

a lot like a long rehearsing without saying a line on stage.

a lot like a mansion with open doors but no one comes and goes.

a lot like a taoist monk reciting incantations but no relatives are present.

a lot like a protagonist in an epic novel who has yet to appear.

perhaps this world is an illusion, only the rumble of thunder is real.

it strikes a contrary note that thunder rumbles high and far

but is incapable of human pathos. perhaps thunder struggles to communicate,

and we are far too preoccupied with other things.

烤红薯就是把红薯中

优秀而落寞的选出来

放进炉子，让它们贴着炉壁

站成一圈。伸腰，淌汗

诗人一样——哦！啊！噢！

然后逐渐变软，变香，变甜

由叹气到哈气，到噫吁嚱

卖红薯的烤完前胸又烤后背

直到把自己也烤成一根

红光满面的布衣红苕

直到吸引我驻足观赏

偎他炉子听他身世倚他车辕

忙不过来时，帮他收整找零

也接受他浓茶伴烧饼的便餐

黄昏，搭他架子车回家

问：白发老兄什么的干活？

答：一个几十年的码字工

他笑笑说，码字不如码红苕

改行吧，来当糖心蜜肺的小商贩……

选自《诗刊》8月号

sweet-potato man

by zhang xinquan            

to roast sweet potatoes,

he selects the finest ones that speak to him,

places them in a barrel-shaped oven,

and arranges them to get snug and cozy along the oven's wall

in a circle, stretching, sweating,

just like poets. aah! aa! ouch!

roasted over coals, they slowly turn soft, aromatic, sweet,

moans and sighs are now softer, giving steamy scents,

mmm...

before considering it done, he’d make sure

everyone is evenly roasted front and back

until he too becomes an ember-roasted sweet potato.

the red glow on his face and his coarse garment

has me awestruck,

so i huddle close to the oven and listen to his stories.

when he is flat out, i handle the money and change,

sharing his simple fare of strong tea and baked sesame bread.

it's dusk and i ride with him on his sweet-potato cart to go home.

q: what do you do, my gray-haired big brother?

a: i write, paid by number of words, a few decades now.

he chuckles and says: "far better to code sweet potatoes.

change job, better to be a sweet, warm-hearted street pedlar..."

本组诗歌由 pathsharers books（美国同道出版社）

duck yard lyricists 鸭先知编译团 

提供翻译

“鸭先知”典出苏轼"春江水暖鸭先知”（《题惠崇春江晚景》），由四位成员组成，简介如下：

duck yard lyricists is consisted of four devoted poetry lovers: meifu wang, peter micic, michael soper, & johan ramaeker.

 |  |  |  |  |  |  |  |  |  |  | 南秋：

“汉诗英译”栏目编委会

主编：金石开、朱涛

责编：王美富、王家铭、罗曼、丁鹏