Robert Mezey: Fishing Around

　　Fishing Around
　　　　　　　　　Robert Mezey
Keeping his feet, a feeling in his gut,
Heart in his mouth, a slow bee in his bonnet,
Silently groaning under God knows what,
He wants to see if he can write a sonnet:
Nothing spectacular, just some decent verse,
Each phoneme brooded on, each syllable weighed,
The diction plain, the sentence fairly terse
(To please you, lovely reader, meter-made).

And now he feels he’s in his element,
Baiting a hook and casting forth the line,
And through clear water sees a heaven-sent
Swift flash of silver rise into air and shine.
Ah, let it go—go, dart back to the deep.
A lovely thing, but much too small to keep.
　　　　　　　　　　from New Yorker Jan, 2008

　　钓来钓去
　　　　　　罗伯特·梅泽
他双脚站得沉稳，气守丹田，
心含在喉咙，脑际有小蜜蜂作怪，
老天也难听清他咕哝什么不满，
他就想看自己能否谱一首商籁：
不求出语惊鸿，只要稳妥成诵，
推敲每项词义，掂量每个韵律，
尽量措词本分，语句洗练切中，
（看官，为着您赏心，他亦步亦趋）。

至此他渐入佳境，自感已入港，
给鱼钩穿上饵料，把渔线儿抛出，
于是清澄的水面划过一道银光
犹如天赐，升到半空，熠熠夺目。
唉，丢了算了，扔回远处的深水，放掉，
这东西倒是可爱，但不值得收留，太小。