唐不遇诗5首(得一忘二 英译)
5 Poems by Tang Buyu (1980-) translated by Fan Jinghua
第一祈祷词
世界上有无数的祷词,都不如
我四岁女儿的祷词,
那么无私,善良,
她跪下,对那在烟雾缭绕中
微闭着双眼的观世音说:
菩萨,祝你身体健康。
2013年1月29日
The Number 1 Prayer
There have been innumerable prayers in the world,
But none is better
Than my four-year daughter’s.
So selfless and kind, she
Knees down and speaks to kuanyin whose eyes are
Lightly closed amidst the curling incense smoke:
Buddha, wish you a good health.
Jan. 29, 2013
黄昏的雨
打开一本书的时候,鸟也张开翅膀。
隔着一扇窗户,玻璃是透明的。
这一刻我没有阅读。
我只是看着鸟飞去。
黄昏,下雨了。雨是最伤感的
读者。在夜晚的灯光下
看着窗外的黑暗,
我的手指急于翻到下一页。
2013年4月9日
Evening Rain
As I open a book, birds also open their wings,
A window between us, with transparent glass.
I am not reading at this moment,
I am watching the birds flying.
It’s evening, raining. Rain is the most sentimental
Reader. In the evening lamplight,
I look into the darkness outside,
My fingers eager to flip the page to the next.
April 9, 2013
这些年
这些年,你总是在夜里醒来,
到厨房喝水,
看见沉默磨砺着刀子。
穿过客厅走到阳台,
对着天空抽烟,
为大地献上几颗星星,
为黑暗增添几缕烟。
你想,这些年,
生活暗藏的火种
就像婴儿一样好动
召唤着灰烬的老年。
然后你穿过客厅回到卧室,
梦遇见你,而牙齿遇见舌头。
2013年11月
All These Years
For all these years, you’d wake up during the night,
Go to the kitchen for water,
And see that silence is grinding the knife.
You walk across the living room to the balcony,
Smoke and puff toward the sky,
So you bring out a few stars for the earth,
And some wisps of smoke for the darkness.
You realize that all these years
The seed of fire this life has kept
Is like a frisky child,
Calling upon the old age of ashes.
Then, you walk across the living room back to the bedroom,
Where dreams find you, and teeth find the tongue.
Nov. 2013
冬至
我赶在日落之前洗澡。
我干干净净地进入
岁末的黑暗和人生的中途。
在这一年中最漫长的夜晚,
我的睡眠悠长——
余生,仿佛来世。
2013年12月22日
The Winter Solstice
I have had my bath before the sun sets down.
I will take a clean body
Into the year-end darkness and the midway of my life.
During the longest night of the year,
My sleep is long—
The rest of this life seems the next life.
Dec. 22, 2013
流水
整个漫长的下午我都在岩石上
写诗,像女人的裸体一样
美丽的岩石给了我灵感。
我像鸟一样啄着青苔
或偶尔掉落的松果,
想把它们嵌在诗中。
最终,我写出了一首
美妙的三行诗——如果不算
掉进岩缝里的那一行
让我如丧失羽毛般痛苦。
当我对着一颗松树
朗诵这首诗,一股流水的声音
堵住墓碑窃听的耳朵。
它从未在任何人的记忆中
出现过,其中有几个词
展开飞翔的姿势,
就像我暮色中的眼睛。
2013年12月24日
Flowing Water
For the entire long afternoon, I was sitting a rock
Writing a poem. The rock is beautiful
Like a naked woman, inspiring me.
I wanted, like a bird that pecked
At moss or fallen cones,
To put them in the poem,
And finally came up with
A beautiful terza rima— not counting the line
That had fallen into the crevice of the rock
And caused me a pain like the loss of feathers.
When I read out the poem
To a pine, the sound of flowing water
Blocked the overhearing ears of the tombstones.
The poem has never presented itself
In anyone’s memory, and only a few words
Have tried to spread out their wings,
Like my eyes in the twilight.
Dec. 24, 2013
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