Autumn
Leaves no longer shy from their speckles,
The dark green of the trunk is turning into dry black,
And between the wrinkles, cool air accumulates its cocoons.
The sun strikes its square steps on the earth,
Its slanting light calm and soft; the night is elongated
And grows flaccid, unable to reclaim upon cock-crows
The spirits that stole out of the bodies.
Those whose souls have taken their nocturnal flights are now preening
In front of a foggy mirror for a should-be image,
One soul shoveled into the flesh and the other auto-saved into a digital gadget;
Before fully awake, they have hurried down into the pedestrian crowd.
Last night, two shiny moths fly their bridal dance,
The beautifully crossed arches do not exist in the physical world,
And even memory cannot remember which one is hungry and which bloated.
100822 Autumn
入秋
叶子不再遮掩自我蚕食的斑点，枝干的暗绿
转向黝黑，皱褶间，凉意开始凝滞、隆起、结茧
朝阳的方步按部就班地迟来，斜照大地的光
平静而柔和；夜，越来越长而疲软，已不能
在鸡鸣时分立竿见影地回收逸出肉身的精魄
灵魂出窍的人半睁着眼睛梳理应有的形象
将一颗灵魂从下身塞进肉体，另一颗
保存到电子玩意中，匆匆走进日常的人群
昨夜，有两只闪光的蛾子在脑中划着交汇的弧线
此刻一切都归于空白，忘了谁胀饱、谁饥渴
2010年8月22日
Monday, August 23, 2010
Saturday, August 21, 2010
Mindy Zhang: Sappho's Lover
Sappho's Lover (From “Voice-Over: A Suite”)
by Mindy Zhang
Your sexuality is the last weapon you own.
You are wise, and you know
Less exposure means stronger killing power.
Let those eager to unfold show the secrets of their lesser tricks.
You stand, but not as a pose, your skirt-hem not flaring, hair in a bun,
eyes focused (yes, whoever watches you, you look back flat).
You do not even need to compose poems. You are a poem.
But those honey-skinned fresh souls, flying around,
with hungered eyes and lips, charming as yours,
with bouncy desires and burgeoning thirst for knowledge
resorting to no scheming, craftiness or worldly sophistication…
I can always find excuses to pardon them.
You are beaming as before, with a smile barely perceptible
and jealousy tucked into the pleats of your dress or into your dewlaps.
You do not toy with the trick of “-isms,” and yet
you are still the born killer, leaving me terminally unrecoverable.
March 2010
萨福的情人
明迪
最后，你只剩下性别，这唯一的武器。
你很明智，知道越不展示，越有杀伤力。
而那些急于解开自己，亮出所谓秘密
的小把戏，一旦揭穿，就不再具有任何威力。
你不摆动裙衫，也不摆弄姿势，长发盘起，
目光专注（对，你直视那些注视你的人），
你甚至不用写诗，你就是一首诗。
但那些蜜色的，飞舞的，变幻的生命，
带着饥饿的，与你一样迷人的眼睛和嘴唇，
比你更有弹性的肌肤，还在发育中的求知欲，
没有心计，没有城府，没有世故的挑逗，
一个六尺男儿，怎会没有怜香惜玉的借口。
你仍然光鲜，步态优雅，不动声色地吟诗，
把嫉妒藏在裙子的褶缝中，或赘肉里。
你不轻易玩“主义”之类的剑法，
但我知道你有一个杀手锏，会令我一蹶不振。
2010.3.15.《画外音》组诗之七
About the Poet:
Mindy is an emigre poet and media worker living in LA, US. She has published two books of poems, and this poems is from her newest book coming from The New Continent Press.
诗人简介：
明迪，移居美国的诗人、媒体工作者。这首诗取自她由美国新大陆诗社即将出版的诗集。
by Mindy Zhang
Your sexuality is the last weapon you own.
You are wise, and you know
Less exposure means stronger killing power.
Let those eager to unfold show the secrets of their lesser tricks.
You stand, but not as a pose, your skirt-hem not flaring, hair in a bun,
eyes focused (yes, whoever watches you, you look back flat).
You do not even need to compose poems. You are a poem.
But those honey-skinned fresh souls, flying around,
with hungered eyes and lips, charming as yours,
with bouncy desires and burgeoning thirst for knowledge
resorting to no scheming, craftiness or worldly sophistication…
I can always find excuses to pardon them.
You are beaming as before, with a smile barely perceptible
and jealousy tucked into the pleats of your dress or into your dewlaps.
You do not toy with the trick of “-isms,” and yet
you are still the born killer, leaving me terminally unrecoverable.
March 2010
萨福的情人
明迪
最后，你只剩下性别，这唯一的武器。
你很明智，知道越不展示，越有杀伤力。
而那些急于解开自己，亮出所谓秘密
的小把戏，一旦揭穿，就不再具有任何威力。
你不摆动裙衫，也不摆弄姿势，长发盘起，
目光专注（对，你直视那些注视你的人），
你甚至不用写诗，你就是一首诗。
但那些蜜色的，飞舞的，变幻的生命，
带着饥饿的，与你一样迷人的眼睛和嘴唇，
比你更有弹性的肌肤，还在发育中的求知欲，
没有心计，没有城府，没有世故的挑逗，
一个六尺男儿，怎会没有怜香惜玉的借口。
你仍然光鲜，步态优雅，不动声色地吟诗，
把嫉妒藏在裙子的褶缝中，或赘肉里。
你不轻易玩“主义”之类的剑法，
但我知道你有一个杀手锏，会令我一蹶不振。
2010.3.15.《画外音》组诗之七
About the Poet:
Mindy is an emigre poet and media worker living in LA, US. She has published two books of poems, and this poems is from her newest book coming from The New Continent Press.
诗人简介：
明迪，移居美国的诗人、媒体工作者。这首诗取自她由美国新大陆诗社即将出版的诗集。
Fan Jinghua: Simile
Simile
The slow motion of clouds is eternal
Nonarrival, repetition. And it superimposes itself
As surfs eat and make the palimpsests on the shore
Who is fondling whose expectation of touch
While winds tiptoe across the grass.? A slope is always
A slope, no matter it rises or falls
Then the spring becomes the summer, and the autumn
Becomes gold, the winter silver
Whoever harvests the seed of waiting is doomed to
Disperses himself into the faraway field
The shoot to come is the eye of the storm, charged nothingness
Holding its centre very tight
June 10, 2010
犹如
云的缓行是永远的
不达，一次又一次将次数融成一体
如波浪涂抹沙滩上的底本
可那是谁抚摩谁对于抚摸的期许
如风过草
坡儿没有上下，而春天就暖成了夏
然后秋天黄了，冬天白了
谁还收藏等待的种子，谁就注定
要将自己播种到远方
将来的苗儿，如风暴眼，坚强地
揪紧虚空的内心
2010年6月10日
The slow motion of clouds is eternal
Nonarrival, repetition. And it superimposes itself
As surfs eat and make the palimpsests on the shore
Who is fondling whose expectation of touch
While winds tiptoe across the grass.? A slope is always
A slope, no matter it rises or falls
Then the spring becomes the summer, and the autumn
Becomes gold, the winter silver
Whoever harvests the seed of waiting is doomed to
Disperses himself into the faraway field
The shoot to come is the eye of the storm, charged nothingness
Holding its centre very tight
June 10, 2010
犹如
云的缓行是永远的
不达，一次又一次将次数融成一体
如波浪涂抹沙滩上的底本
可那是谁抚摩谁对于抚摸的期许
如风过草
坡儿没有上下，而春天就暖成了夏
然后秋天黄了，冬天白了
谁还收藏等待的种子，谁就注定
要将自己播种到远方
将来的苗儿，如风暴眼，坚强地
揪紧虚空的内心
2010年6月10日
Monday, August 9, 2010
Fan Jinghua: Solveig
Solveig
[To --]
When the sun sets at the initiation of autumn
And the mirrors of leaves deflect any daring eyes
She is impregnated with eternity
And has nowhere to go any more
The earthly Eden lies in the blind valley
Of human nature’s ruins
A chalet with a small window and a spinning-wheel is enough
For her to be a life-long amateur weaver
Counting the rebirths of flowers
And working on a poem with the invisible ink of hormone
August 9, 2010
索尔维格
[有赠]
立秋的夕照下，树叶的镜子炫目
而她身怀了永恒，已再无去处
人性遗迹的盲谷便是人间的伊甸
一只单窗小木屋配一架纺车
就足以令她满足，终生做一名业余织工
蘸着荷尔蒙写无字的诗，不想花儿又重生了几回
2010年8月9日
[To --]
When the sun sets at the initiation of autumn
And the mirrors of leaves deflect any daring eyes
She is impregnated with eternity
And has nowhere to go any more
The earthly Eden lies in the blind valley
Of human nature’s ruins
A chalet with a small window and a spinning-wheel is enough
For her to be a life-long amateur weaver
Counting the rebirths of flowers
And working on a poem with the invisible ink of hormone
August 9, 2010
索尔维格
[有赠]
立秋的夕照下，树叶的镜子炫目
而她身怀了永恒，已再无去处
人性遗迹的盲谷便是人间的伊甸
一只单窗小木屋配一架纺车
就足以令她满足，终生做一名业余织工
蘸着荷尔蒙写无字的诗，不想花儿又重生了几回
2010年8月9日
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