汉诗英译：古马、年微漾、张作梗、漆宇勤、阿信-凯发娱乐亚洲

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。

转 场     古 马

我们要去的地方

白唇鹿的嘴唇碰到阳光的苔草

石缝里的清水就像它回头张望的眼睛

四周围或有树影一短一长

北山云 鱼化草 草化虎豹 变幻莫测

我们要去的地方

雨水嫩绿沙葱长势正好

圣主成吉思汗的眼睛

泉眼之眼 北斗以北

我们要去的地方要走上九天九夜

驮上帐房茶炊赶上羊群

转场前还有些事必须办完

马头琴琴柱断了琴箱破了

那双穿过很久的靴子底儿掉了

昨夜煮滚奶茶煮罢羊肉的火

已经灭了 灰已经冷了

还有我们的不如意和难堪

要一一埋藏，干净的沙土埋藏深些

让来年春风吹绿这挂念的地方

好了

我们要去的地方还有很远的路程

要骑上马，牵上骆驼

让一只欢实的细犬窜到前面

只是你别忘了

带着清晨的口哨

只是你别忘了

吹起夜里的口哨

选自《诗刊》

moving camp

by gu ma

we must go where

the white-lipped deer kisses the sunlit moss,

and the water between stones shines like her eyes looking back.

where we are going,

a tree or two stand with long and short shadows,

and clouds roll, and fish and grass and tigers and leopards,

who knows which is which.

where we are going,

desert shallots glisten after the rain,

lord genghis khan watches over us,

so we'll be at the eye of all springs, north of the north star.

the place we are going, it's nine days and nine nights away.

pack the tents and tea and cookware, catch up with the sheep.

there're still work to do before moving camp:

the fiddle strings are broken and its box needs mending;

the worn sturdy boots have lost their soles;

last night's fire for making milk tea and lamb stew

is all gone, only cold ashes left;

all our misfortune and adversities are to be buried,

one by one, deep under the golden sand.

let spring breeze return to refresh this beloved place.

all right.

we have a long way to go,

riding a horse and leading a camel.

let a fine cheerful dog come forward.

just don't forget

the early-morning whistle.

just don't forget

the whistle in the night.

古马，1966年出生，甘肃武威人，1986年写诗至今。主要作品有诗集《西风古马》《古马的诗》《红灯照墨》《落日谣》《大河源》等。

一个人在泸州望长江  年微漾

江水浩荡、清冷，在堤岸上发出响声

东门外此刻的时辰，正是千年间

用旧的时辰。云霞朝傍晚飞去

天色渐暗，一些家族覆灭但姓氏仍在

一个诗人以诗歌窥探仕途，终究又沦为

仕途中的不归人。船只安稳停泊

并不急于亮灯，在这入夜时分

脚下的渡口拓宽成码头，看起来

形同某种训诫。一个人站在长江边

不可极目远眺：上游布满战事

下游埋葬着旧朝，唯此身前的一段

收起野心与绝望如少年。一个人

站在长江边，就像回不去的水

接受同类的安慰——江水流了

那么久，也那么远，没有未被皴法

所驯服的山峰，在尘世的画图中

选自《诗刊》

watching the yangtze river alone at luzhou

by nian weiyang

the river, cool and magnificent, raps the embankment.

outside the east gate, the same hours return

as they did every day since ancient times. sunset becomes twilight,

twilight fades away. names remain, though the families have perished.

once upon a time a local poet eyed a mandarin's post, and

gave up his native home for the emperor's court. boats have safely moored,

but slow to light up, at this late hour, the ferry landing

joins the expansive harbor, a foreboding

sight. if you happen to be here, at the yangtze river,

try not to look too far: wars frequented the areas upstream,

and downstream lie the ruins of old dynasties, only this section

surrendered its ambitions and looks like a despondent youth.

here, by the yangtze river, men share the same fate with the water of no return,

but find solace among their kinsmen—the river has traveled

far and long, carving valleys and smoothing the edges

of mountains, all in our picturesque world.

年微漾，1988年出生，福建省仙游县龙坂村人，现居福州。软件工程师、原创音乐人，曾获柔刚诗歌奖、中国·天津诗歌奖、张坚诗歌奖，著有诗集《一号楼》《双程票》《扫雪记》。

1990：村里通上自来水  张作梗

倒扣的水缸被移走。

一圈湿印，使一切过往的日子归零。 

水桶，像一个突然多出来的人， 

拖着水桶般的腰身， 

不知道站在哪儿为好。

——生活，有了更年轻、便捷的仆人。 

水管，可不是水的索引。

它游动在地下，又在每一个水龙头那儿

撕开一个缺口—— 

“这水，有一股漂白粉味儿。”

“唔，到处都是按钮、阀门和开关。” 

我的老母亲嘀咕着，依然将衣物、菜蔬

提拎到门前的大水塘去漂洗。

水声清泠，埠石上拂动的青苔， 

像是水长出的绿胡子。

隔夜，我的父亲把水缸移走。

那空出来的地方，新鲜如伤疤。

可为什么每日早晨醒来， 

我依然听到水桶磕碰缸沿的声音，那么

清脆，像是死去多年的父亲， 

仍然在为我们担水，送来一日

清凉的福音？

选自《诗刊》

1990, running water came to the village

by zhang zuogeng

the upended water barrel was removed.

a damp circle was all that’s left, resetting time back to the beginning.

water barrel, now a redundant worker,

was grabbed on the belly and dragged off.

where's a good place for it?

—some younger and speedier servant will stand in.

water pipe, not a line to lead you to the headwater

but runs underground, and tears open

an outlet at the faucet—

“this water, it smells of chlorine.”

“oh, push buttons, valves and knobs everywhere.”

my elderly mother grumbles as she carries

clothes and vegetables to the pond to wash.

cool running river, lichen sways on rocks,

as if water has grown a beard.

the evening after, father removed the water barrel,

leaving behind an empty spot, a raw scar.

but then, why in the world do i still wake up

in the sound of a pail knocking on the water barrel,

as bright as before, as if father were still with us,

carrying water, bringing us everyday's

blissful news.

张作梗，湖北京山人，现居扬州。 1980年代中后期开始文学创作。主要以诗歌为主，近期兼及随笔、文学评论的写作。作品散见国内各大报刊。有诗入选多种选本，部分作品被译介海外。 获《诗刊》2012年度诗歌奖、首届金迪诗歌奖铜奖。曾参加诗刊社第24届青春诗会。

还 乡     漆宇勤

烟火若还乡，才是真还乡

所有草木都来自山野

有着固定的族谱

而人的还乡形迹可疑

纸上的籍贯与故乡，祖籍，生养之所

一次次拆迁后，某街某号，某村某组

全部细节已面目全非

归根的人，收拾脚印的人，还乡的人

都被邮差打包退回：

搬迁新址不明、原写地址不详，查无此地址……

选自《诗刊》

the return of the native

by qi yuqin

when cooking fire returns home, there's no doubt about it,

and every plant can always trace its roots

to some mountain or field,

but a native returning home

can be met with suspicious eyes.

the id card lists one place as origin, another place as hometown, 

another place as ancestral home, yet another place as birthplace,

but previous homes were condemned and demolished,

and house number, street and village names were altered and altered

until everything is unintelligible.

those wanting to return to their roots, 

those lifting their footprints from other places, 

those thinking they have come home

are labeled “no such person, package undeliverable, return to the sender”:

new address not updated, old address outdated, neither is verifiable ...

漆宇勤，1981年11月生于江西萍乡，中国作家协会会员，鲁迅文学院第34届高研班结业，参加第35届青春诗会。在诗刊、人民日报、人民文学、星星、绿风、诗歌月刊、北京文学、青年文学等600余家刊物发表文学作品1300余篇，出版诗集、散文集、儿童文学等15部。业余主编民刊《赣西文学》。

裸 原  阿 信

一股强大的风刮过裸原。

大河驮载浮冰，滞缓流动。

骑着马，

和贡布、丹增兄弟，沿高高的河岸行进，

我们的睫毛和髭须上结着冰花。

谁在前途？谁在等我们，熬好了黑茶？

谁把我们拖进一张画布？

黑马涂炭，红马披霞，栗色夹杂着雪花。

我们的皮袍兜满风，腰带束紧。

人和马不出声，顶着风，在僵硬的裸原行进。

谁在前途等我们，熬好了黑茶？

谁带来亡者口信，把我们拖入命运，

与大河逆行？

选自《诗刊》

the naked field

by ah xin

a fierce wind blows across the naked field.

heavy floating ice makes the big river flow sluggishly.

on horseback,

brothers kampot and tenzin and i trek the river bank,

ice crystals grow on our mustaches and eyelashes.

who is ahead of us? who is there waiting for us, steeping black tea?

who has dragged us into this tanka painting?

a charcoal-black horse, a sunset-red horse, and, and the third is maroon with snowflakes.

the wind fills our parkas, we tighten our belts.

men and horses move quietly upwind, over the frozen naked earth.

who is waiting for us ahead, steeping black tea?

who has brought us the obituary, throwing us into this destiny,

fording upstream of a stupendous river?

阿信，出生于1964，甘肃临洮人，长期在甘南工作、生活。著有《阿信的诗》《草地诗篇》《那些年，在桑多河边》等多部诗集。曾获徐志摩诗歌奖(2015)、西部文学奖(2016)、中国"十大好诗"(2017)、昌耀诗歌奖(2018)等奖项。

“汉诗英译” 同步更新于美国“21st century chinese poetry”网站 

http://www.modernchinesepoetry.com/

一  键  关  注

中国诗歌网公众号

▼