现在时态 (选)
苏若兮（1977-）
The Present Tense (excerpts)
by SU Ruoxi (1977-) tr. Fan Jinghua
一
麦地空了
你找不到记忆它的人
水鸟不来湖水上写字
它或许，离开了它的故事
像那个坐在汽车里的人，押运晒干的麦子远行
摆脱了六月，视觉
和湖滩麦地的寂静
I
Wheatfield is emptied
You cannot find the one to remember it
The waterbird does not come to write on the lake
Maybe, it has left its story
Like the one in the truck who escorts the dried wheat to the distant
Ridding himself of June, vision
And the stillness of the lakefront wheatfield
四
浮萍，被风推着
从河的此岸浮到了彼岸
洗衣的人
不洗浮萍
河面上的风云
就这么动荡而缓慢
拧着脸，也不能回头
IV
Duckweeds, pushed on by winds, float
From this side of the river to the other
She who washes clothes
Does not wash duckweeds
The winds and clouds on the river-face
Are restless and slow as such
Their faces screwed, their heads unable to turn
六
我承认，对面的窗口，黑洞似的
离我很近
近又怎样
我连敲它的勇气都没有
它黑洞似的，张着大口
与我持久地对峙，天黑了
我告诉它，我还在
VI
I confess, the opposite window, like a black hole, looks
So close to me
But what then
If I do not even have the courage to knock at it
Well, it’s like a black hole, opening a big mouth
And it confronts me persistently till darkness falls
When I tell it that I still am
十一
要是可以写信
我就去远方
一群又一群的陌生者
满身寒霜
麻木到不会哭
我记下他们的面孔，在纸上涂抹
我不得不迷恋这样的工程
在信里画满墨水的嘶喊
告诉你
没有一声，是自己的
XI
If letters can be written out
I’d go to a faraway place
Strangers of groups
With frost on their head and shoulders
Grow numb and forget how to cry
I bear their faces in my mind and smear them on the paper
I have to be fascinated by this project
And in the letters I scribble down the cries of ink
Telling you
Not a single sound of these is mine
Showing posts with label Su Ruoxi. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Su Ruoxi. Show all posts
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
Su Ruoxi's "Fragment" & My "Love Song for a Ghost"
Su Ruoxi's "Fragment" & Fan Jinghua's "Love Song for a Ghost"
苏若兮的《残简》与得一忘二的《说给鬼的情话》
Fragment
SU Ruoxi
I love his look of a polished hypocrite
A homeless lone ghost in the moonlight
The floating body empty and its flight
So vividly seductive and composed
I can only blame myself for blocking him
Out of my closed door
He has inexhaustible coldness and temporary disconsolation
Which I might make use, to idle the long night
So that I might rise again from beneath his long tongue
残简
苏若兮
我爱他假正经的样子
月亮下的孤魂野鬼
空着飘扬起来的身体
妖冶生动地缓缓地“飞”
我怪我的门关闭
不能消受
他用之不尽的冰冷与短暂的落泊
消磨我的长夜
令我从他的长舌下死而复生。
Reading this poem of Ruoxi’s reminded me of a prose I wrote in Oct. 2005, so I copied it to her. And she said she loved the piece, and for a short while she sent back a poem, written out of my prose. So I said that the poem was hers, and she said that it was just a new arrangement of the lines from my prose. Anyway, put it here.
读到苏若兮的这首诗，想到自己以前写过一篇散文（写于2005年10月17日），于是就复制给她看看。一会儿之后，她送回来一首诗，说是从我的散文中套出来的。我说，是她写出来的就算她的啦，结果就算是合作啦。
Love Song for a Ghost
Su Ruoxi after Fan Jinghua’s prose poem of the same title
My dear ghost, do not try to file yourself in the human;
I am living on this human earth, and yet hope to be one of you.
My breast aches to touch your
Palm, your face, and
Your time of gossamer warmth.
How I wish I could love a passionate ghost.
Darling ghost, your nape is chilly,
Your breasts stone cold,
This is really an ice flesh and jade skin.
But it does not turn me on any more,
And you do not wet. Our carnal love
Has reached its end.
My darling ghost, you love me, do you?
Tell me, with the wind between your lips,
Say you love me truly, as much as I have always loved you.
说给鬼的情话
苏若兮改写自得一忘二的散文
亲爱的鬼，不要试图加入人的行列
我活在人世，却想与你为伍。
我的胸膛贴上你的
手掌抚摸你的
脸挨着你的
余有一丝热气的时候
我愿意爱一个真情的鬼。
亲爱的鬼，你颈项冰冷
乳房冷如岩石
这真正的冰肌玉肤
已不能让我勃起
让你湿润，肉体的爱情
到了尽头。
亲爱的鬼，你，爱我么
以你的唇间的风
告诉我，你像我真心爱你一样爱我。
Reading this poem of Ruoxi’s reminded me of a prose I wrote in Oct. 2005, so I copied it to her. And she said she loved the piece, and for a short while she sent back a poem, written out of my prose. So I said that the poem was hers, and she said that it was just a new arrangement of the lines from my prose. Anyway, put it here.
读到苏若兮的这首诗，想到自己以前写过一篇散文（写于2005年10月17日），于是就复制给她看看。一会儿之后，她送回来一首诗，说是从我的散文中套出来的。我说，是她写出来的就算她的啦，结果就算是合作啦。
Love Song for a Ghost
Su Ruoxi after Fan Jinghua’s prose poem of the same title
My dear ghost, do not try to file yourself in the human;
I am living on this human earth, and yet hope to be one of you.
My breast aches to touch your
Palm, your face, and
Your time of gossamer warmth.
How I wish I could love a passionate ghost.
Darling ghost, your nape is chilly,
Your breasts stone cold,
This is really an ice flesh and jade skin.
But it does not turn me on any more,
And you do not wet. Our carnal love
Has reached its end.
My darling ghost, you love me, do you?
Tell me, with the wind between your lips,
Say you love me truly, as much as I have always loved you.
说给鬼的情话
苏若兮改写自得一忘二的散文
亲爱的鬼，不要试图加入人的行列
我活在人世，却想与你为伍。
我的胸膛贴上你的
手掌抚摸你的
脸挨着你的
余有一丝热气的时候
我愿意爱一个真情的鬼。
亲爱的鬼，你颈项冰冷
乳房冷如岩石
这真正的冰肌玉肤
已不能让我勃起
让你湿润，肉体的爱情
到了尽头。
亲爱的鬼，你，爱我么
以你的唇间的风
告诉我，你像我真心爱你一样爱我。
Friday, April 10, 2009
Three Poems by Su Ruoxi
Su Ruoxi 3 Poems
Flowing Water
Su Ruoxi (1977-) tr. Fan Jinghua
He will wake up
He has a body symmetrical to yours
To slide together
Into the unknown
Do not make such loud noises
All have
Darkly lost themselves, for so long
流水
苏若兮（1977-）
他会醒来
他有和你很对称的身体
一起滑
滑到未知
不要弄出大的声响
大家
已黯然丢失，那么久
An Old Ferry
Su Ruoxi (1977-) tr. Fan Jinghua
Even now, I can hear her flows, spasms
Whispers, the suspensions between her and time
Before me lies nothing but nothing
Some keep on their playing of trains
Ships, and some keep on carrying grains around, playing hunger
"May God witness my efforts to find the one who creates me"
A great expansion of water in her body she cuts into pieces
And then it rains. Where she has been
A landscape of the past remains
Which she has seen but
She cannot keep back the one who dictates weeping
老渡口
苏若兮（1977-）
即使现在，我也听到她的流动，痉挛
低语，与时间相互的耽搁
面前不过一场空
有人继续玩火车
轮船，有人继续搬运粮食，玩饥饿
“老天有眼，一定找到那个创造我的人”
她把身体里大片的水，剖成碎片
下雨了，她到过的地方
残余着往日的风景
她看到了，却
留不下那个主宰哭泣的人。
The Falling
Su Ruoxi (1977-) tr. Fan Jinghua
I fall into the snow he renders
After the snow, roads, houses, woods are upper-half in white
And people walking in the snow
They are all like me, a pile of fire, missing oneself
Old cotton jacket is empty, dumping the one used to be in it
Such a bleak time may
Allow me to enter the depth of clouds to make judgments
I want to see how long he has been shivering in the wilderness
I trust my own evilness which has extended its devilish paws in the snow
She erases the gloss of fulsome beauty and show-off
And walks on and on till nothing of her is seen any more
Nothing can be kept in memory
They are what they are, and I am what I am
Once we enter the old time, we forget each other
In the empty space grow silence and a sharp tongue
降临
苏若兮（1977-）
我爱上他交出的大雪
大雪后，白装上身的道路，房屋，树林
走在雪中的人
像我一样，如一簇火焰，想念了自己
旧棉袄是空的，它丢了穿戴它的人
有这样一段惨淡的时光
就可以让我进入深云层去判断了
我想看他在空旷的野地颤抖了多久
我信任我的邪恶，已于雪中伸出了魔掌
她拂去了这太过美丽招摇的假象
走着走着，就消失了踪影
无可留恋
他们是他们，我是我
进入旧时光，就忘记了彼此
空白的地方，长着寂静和伶牙利齿。
Flowing Water
Su Ruoxi (1977-) tr. Fan Jinghua
He will wake up
He has a body symmetrical to yours
To slide together
Into the unknown
Do not make such loud noises
All have
Darkly lost themselves, for so long
流水
苏若兮（1977-）
他会醒来
他有和你很对称的身体
一起滑
滑到未知
不要弄出大的声响
大家
已黯然丢失，那么久
An Old Ferry
Su Ruoxi (1977-) tr. Fan Jinghua
Even now, I can hear her flows, spasms
Whispers, the suspensions between her and time
Before me lies nothing but nothing
Some keep on their playing of trains
Ships, and some keep on carrying grains around, playing hunger
"May God witness my efforts to find the one who creates me"
A great expansion of water in her body she cuts into pieces
And then it rains. Where she has been
A landscape of the past remains
Which she has seen but
She cannot keep back the one who dictates weeping
老渡口
苏若兮（1977-）
即使现在，我也听到她的流动，痉挛
低语，与时间相互的耽搁
面前不过一场空
有人继续玩火车
轮船，有人继续搬运粮食，玩饥饿
“老天有眼，一定找到那个创造我的人”
她把身体里大片的水，剖成碎片
下雨了，她到过的地方
残余着往日的风景
她看到了，却
留不下那个主宰哭泣的人。
The Falling
Su Ruoxi (1977-) tr. Fan Jinghua
I fall into the snow he renders
After the snow, roads, houses, woods are upper-half in white
And people walking in the snow
They are all like me, a pile of fire, missing oneself
Old cotton jacket is empty, dumping the one used to be in it
Such a bleak time may
Allow me to enter the depth of clouds to make judgments
I want to see how long he has been shivering in the wilderness
I trust my own evilness which has extended its devilish paws in the snow
She erases the gloss of fulsome beauty and show-off
And walks on and on till nothing of her is seen any more
Nothing can be kept in memory
They are what they are, and I am what I am
Once we enter the old time, we forget each other
In the empty space grow silence and a sharp tongue
降临
苏若兮（1977-）
我爱上他交出的大雪
大雪后，白装上身的道路，房屋，树林
走在雪中的人
像我一样，如一簇火焰，想念了自己
旧棉袄是空的，它丢了穿戴它的人
有这样一段惨淡的时光
就可以让我进入深云层去判断了
我想看他在空旷的野地颤抖了多久
我信任我的邪恶，已于雪中伸出了魔掌
她拂去了这太过美丽招摇的假象
走着走着，就消失了踪影
无可留恋
他们是他们，我是我
进入旧时光，就忘记了彼此
空白的地方，长着寂静和伶牙利齿。
Sunday, March 29, 2009
Su Ruoxi: Analogy
Su Ruoxi: Analogy
比拟
比拟
苏若兮（1977-）
我想你，只能在私密的内心
像厚厚的积雪隐藏了山河，树林
我秘密地想你
任着生活
将我
刻得品行不端，斑斑劣迹
Analogy
Su Ruoxi (1977-) tr. Fan Jinghua
I miss you, only in my secret inner heart,
Like thick snows hide a landscape and woods.
I miss you, surreptitiously,
Yielding to the life
That carves on me
Deep ruts of varied behavioral misconducts.
My PS:
How to write a bold and clean love poem with a unique voice? This may take as many forms as many people. In this poem, the first line reads plainly extraordinary. The first bold outburst of “I miss you” is yoked to a downturn, a sudden restraint, with an obvious tightening of the heart and mind. This is already a hurt, and the analogy in the following line further suggests the suffocating coldness of the “forbidden love.” Ostensibly, the surreptitious double life can only leave marks of immorality, and yet the speaker seems to suggest that she can help but yielding to it; perhaps, there is something sweet after all.
译后赘言：
如何写一首大胆而干净的情诗，而且要有独特的嗓音？恐怕有多少人就有多少种可能，但真正能够通俗而不落俗套还是比较难的。这首诗可说是平凡而又超常。第一行首先激情地脱口而出“我想你”，然而紧接着却是一个情感突降、一种收敛，显然的身心紧缩，令人读得心头一抽。已经是一种伤害了，然后的“比拟”进一步暗示这种“禁止的爱”令人窒息的冷。表面看来，这种见不得人的双重生活只能留下不道德的印记，然而说话人似乎还暗示她无能为力，只得屈从于这种生活；也许，说到底这里有某种甜蜜。
Su Ruoxi: Empty
Su Ruoxi: Empty 苏若兮：空白
空白
苏若兮（1977-）
有一天，我不再思念故乡
一个人在街灯下
停泊
没有想象中的庭院来锈住自己
想想
什么都没有
想想
一个笼中人
深眷什么
时间久了
释放，等于深锁
Empty
Su Ruoxi (1977-) tr. Fan Jinghua
One day I’ll stop thinking of hometown
I’ll walk alone below the streetlamp
Anchored
There will be no imagined courtyard to rust me
Think and
Nothing shows itself
Think about
What a caged being may be
Deeply attached to
When time goes long
Release equals to confinement
My PS.
I have tried several words of word-forms for the title, such as “blankness,” and eventually decided on “Empty” which has more of a philosophical or religious significance. If, according to Buddhist way of the world, emotions are all a manifestation of obstacle to attainment, the attachment to even one’s home is a form of self-confinement. In this sense, an imaginary courtyard or the courtyard of imagination is also a cage, and much can be said about the need for writing a poem.
译后赘言：
我试了好几个词或者词性来翻译这个标题，考虑得最多的是用blank还是empty中的哪一个。Blank的基本含义倾向于茫然的那种空，例如面无表情之类的，而empty更多的是清空、无的意味，前者更多指向人的心理，后者更多哲学宗教意味。如果根据佛教的理解，情，无论是哪一种，都是自我抵达的障碍，于是甚至对于家的眷念也是一种自我设限。在此意义上，想象(出来)的庭院也是一个牢笼，同样可以这样说我们写一首诗的欲望。
空白
苏若兮（1977-）
有一天，我不再思念故乡
一个人在街灯下
停泊
没有想象中的庭院来锈住自己
想想
什么都没有
想想
一个笼中人
深眷什么
时间久了
释放，等于深锁
Empty
Su Ruoxi (1977-) tr. Fan Jinghua
One day I’ll stop thinking of hometown
I’ll walk alone below the streetlamp
Anchored
There will be no imagined courtyard to rust me
Think and
Nothing shows itself
Think about
What a caged being may be
Deeply attached to
When time goes long
Release equals to confinement
My PS.
I have tried several words of word-forms for the title, such as “blankness,” and eventually decided on “Empty” which has more of a philosophical or religious significance. If, according to Buddhist way of the world, emotions are all a manifestation of obstacle to attainment, the attachment to even one’s home is a form of self-confinement. In this sense, an imaginary courtyard or the courtyard of imagination is also a cage, and much can be said about the need for writing a poem.
译后赘言：
我试了好几个词或者词性来翻译这个标题，考虑得最多的是用blank还是empty中的哪一个。Blank的基本含义倾向于茫然的那种空，例如面无表情之类的，而empty更多的是清空、无的意味，前者更多指向人的心理，后者更多哲学宗教意味。如果根据佛教的理解，情，无论是哪一种，都是自我抵达的障碍，于是甚至对于家的眷念也是一种自我设限。在此意义上，想象(出来)的庭院也是一个牢笼，同样可以这样说我们写一首诗的欲望。
Saturday, October 18, 2008
Su Ruoxi: Emptying the Cup; Mussels
苏若兮诗歌一札译读(四)
Emptying the Cup
by Su Ruoxi tr. Fan Jinghua
When my body is no longer solid
I would like to flow into my longed-for vessel
Encoffined
No more willful outflow
Only a stripe of my body will be clad with night breeze
I have enjoyed vanity
Having attended his banquet
Eyes waiting on his lips that mumble for a poem
倾杯
苏若兮
当我不再具有实体
我愿意流到我渴望的容器中
殓入
再不主动溢出
裹着一小半的夜风
我爱慕了虚荣
出席他的宴会
盯紧了他沉吟的嘴唇。
Mussels
by Su Ruoxi tr. Fan Jinghua
Mother, you have a U-turn
By the side of that man
You are my cruelest matrix
Leave love, geography, maze and truth to me
For I love
That location which lulls me into deep sleep
Being close is beauty
Being born is beauty
But we do not know we’d knock on the door of misery together.
蚌
苏若兮
妈妈，在那个人的身边
你拐个弯
你，是我残忍的母体
把热爱，地理，迷宫，真相留下
我爱那个
沉睡我的位置
亲近很美
诞辰很美
我们不约而同，敲苦难的房门。
In this group of poems, several themes can be educed. First of all, there is the fundamental theme that a woman writer may intuitively feel. This feel can be understood in terms of Sexton’s being a "witch." Her witchery is not evil, it is not demonism, and she does not need to exorcise. There is no force to attract her to a road of evil destruction. In "Experience," the witchcraft becomes the bed curtains of the god, who is created by her need to be her servant. The god is conceived as both her father and lover. In "Writing," the evoked Him can hold her in his arms. In creative acts, she has no fear of the fall of darkness. This leads to the second theme: creation.
Artistic creation for women may be understood in term of procreation, and apparently the poet is not yet ready to write about child-birth. The moon is still the image of sexual love, whose circle as in "The Broken Moon" is closely related with His coming and going. The moon is related with witch, no doubt. She is certain of its sound of haunting. Of course, the poet has written more than one poem on the moon, and the moon may be just another symbol of the power she hopes to manipulate. In "July," the moon is the field she can harvest, but not only does her own instrument become rusty but also she herself cannot stand still on the moon’s body, resulting in being named by others. The moon may be understood as the object of her evocation and location for her self-empowerment, no matter whether it proves her failure.
Failure may be understood as the third theme in these poems, or her poetry. The poem "The Broken Moon" is essentially about a paradox between empowerment and dis-empowerment. So is "July." The self-disempowerment is also an implied theme in "Emptying the Cup." The speaker starts with a wish to be fluid. That is to say, her self-perception is that she is too angular now. The longed-for vessel can be interpreted as the traditional symbol of matrix or womb, the lullaby of femininity, just as another conventional symbol "pearl mussel" implies. This theme is almost identified with the theme of writing act itself. In "Emptying the Cup," it is the speaker herself who alone has been "waiting on his lips," who does not seem to be quite dissatisfied with her death. In “Mussels,” however, both the mother and the daughter "knock on the door of misery together."
Writing, for the speaker, is the knock on the door of misery, and of course this again returns to the theme of maternity-witch power. Writing is a kind of witchcraft. We can interpret that the daughter is still not a mother and that the mother(ness) is still one essential source for her, like memory. Memory is not only what she has experienced and owned, but also what she shares with her memory. In creation or procreation, the mother-daughter is linked, and while the mother will grow old and "tired," aligning with her shadow only, as shown in "Wood Ear," the daughter can still resort to sexual love and further anticipate the beautiful intimacy and giving-birth as shown in "Mussels."
这一组诗歌可以离析苏若兮诗歌的出几个主题。第一个主题可谓是每个女性写作者，实际上也是所有作者，直觉感到的基本主题，用塞克斯顿的话说，就是巫。这里的巫术并非作恶，不是对于恶魔的崇拜，因此她无须驱魔，也就是她内心并无一股将她牵引到邪恶与毁坏之路的力量。在《体验》这首诗中，那种巫术制成了上帝的床帷，而这个上帝却又是诗歌说话人按照自己的需要创造出来做奴仆的。这上帝是作为自己的父亲和情人构想出来的。在《写作》中，那个被呼唤出来的他也同样可说是上帝-父亲-情人，她将自己“送进他的臂弯”。有了如此创造，她才不会畏惧无论多么空旷的暮色（《体验》）。这就引入了第二个主题：创造。
艺术创造与女性而言，是很容易联系到生命创造的，不过显然苏若兮还没有准备好写作这一点。因此，在她的诗歌中，月亮主要还是作为性爱的意象，与月亮的周期紧密联系的是他的来去，如《破月亮》所暗示的。月亮与女巫的联系由来已久，在《破月亮》中，说话人“确定他来我心里作祟的声音”。当然，苏若兮也写了不知一首有关月亮的诗歌，月亮也有不同的象征，其中之一就是象征着她想要控制的权力。在《七月》一诗中，月亮是她可能收获的田野，但是在此不仅她的工具生锈了，而且她连自己都站立不稳，最终落得被他人命名的结局。然而，无论月亮证明了她的努力多么失败，月亮本身仍然是她召唤的对象和自我授权的场点。
失败可说是她诗中的另一个主题。说到底，《破月亮》是有关授权与丧权的悖论。《七月》也是如此。自我失权也是《倾杯》的一个主题。此诗开始，说话人希望自己是流体的，也就是说，她自我感觉是此时的她太过棱角分明、太坚实了。她所渴望的容器自然可以根据传统理解为母体或者子宫、女性特质的摇篮，正如另一个传统象征“母贝”所暗示的一样。这一主题几乎可以和写作主题一直起来。在《倾杯》中，说话人独自“紧盯了他沉吟的嘴唇”，似乎并没有因为自己的死亡而有多少遗憾。在《蚌》则是母女两人不约而同地“敲苦难的房门”。
写作，对于说话人来说，就是敲苦难的房门，这当然又要回到母性-巫婆力量。写作便是一种巫术。只是此刻的说话人似乎还不是一个母亲，因此母亲-母性依然是她一个最根本的源泉，这犹如记忆一样。记忆，不仅仅是她体验和拥有的，而且也是她和母亲分享的。在创造或者生育中，母女关系得以直接相连。当母亲慢慢变老，疲倦，与自己的影子相依，如《木耳》中所写的那样，女儿则还可诉诸性爱，从而预期“很美”的“亲近”和“诞辰”。
Emptying the Cup
by Su Ruoxi tr. Fan Jinghua
When my body is no longer solid
I would like to flow into my longed-for vessel
Encoffined
No more willful outflow
Only a stripe of my body will be clad with night breeze
I have enjoyed vanity
Having attended his banquet
Eyes waiting on his lips that mumble for a poem
倾杯
苏若兮
当我不再具有实体
我愿意流到我渴望的容器中
殓入
再不主动溢出
裹着一小半的夜风
我爱慕了虚荣
出席他的宴会
盯紧了他沉吟的嘴唇。
Mussels
by Su Ruoxi tr. Fan Jinghua
Mother, you have a U-turn
By the side of that man
You are my cruelest matrix
Leave love, geography, maze and truth to me
For I love
That location which lulls me into deep sleep
Being close is beauty
Being born is beauty
But we do not know we’d knock on the door of misery together.
蚌
苏若兮
妈妈，在那个人的身边
你拐个弯
你，是我残忍的母体
把热爱，地理，迷宫，真相留下
我爱那个
沉睡我的位置
亲近很美
诞辰很美
我们不约而同，敲苦难的房门。
In this group of poems, several themes can be educed. First of all, there is the fundamental theme that a woman writer may intuitively feel. This feel can be understood in terms of Sexton’s being a "witch." Her witchery is not evil, it is not demonism, and she does not need to exorcise. There is no force to attract her to a road of evil destruction. In "Experience," the witchcraft becomes the bed curtains of the god, who is created by her need to be her servant. The god is conceived as both her father and lover. In "Writing," the evoked Him can hold her in his arms. In creative acts, she has no fear of the fall of darkness. This leads to the second theme: creation.
Artistic creation for women may be understood in term of procreation, and apparently the poet is not yet ready to write about child-birth. The moon is still the image of sexual love, whose circle as in "The Broken Moon" is closely related with His coming and going. The moon is related with witch, no doubt. She is certain of its sound of haunting. Of course, the poet has written more than one poem on the moon, and the moon may be just another symbol of the power she hopes to manipulate. In "July," the moon is the field she can harvest, but not only does her own instrument become rusty but also she herself cannot stand still on the moon’s body, resulting in being named by others. The moon may be understood as the object of her evocation and location for her self-empowerment, no matter whether it proves her failure.
Failure may be understood as the third theme in these poems, or her poetry. The poem "The Broken Moon" is essentially about a paradox between empowerment and dis-empowerment. So is "July." The self-disempowerment is also an implied theme in "Emptying the Cup." The speaker starts with a wish to be fluid. That is to say, her self-perception is that she is too angular now. The longed-for vessel can be interpreted as the traditional symbol of matrix or womb, the lullaby of femininity, just as another conventional symbol "pearl mussel" implies. This theme is almost identified with the theme of writing act itself. In "Emptying the Cup," it is the speaker herself who alone has been "waiting on his lips," who does not seem to be quite dissatisfied with her death. In “Mussels,” however, both the mother and the daughter "knock on the door of misery together."
Writing, for the speaker, is the knock on the door of misery, and of course this again returns to the theme of maternity-witch power. Writing is a kind of witchcraft. We can interpret that the daughter is still not a mother and that the mother(ness) is still one essential source for her, like memory. Memory is not only what she has experienced and owned, but also what she shares with her memory. In creation or procreation, the mother-daughter is linked, and while the mother will grow old and "tired," aligning with her shadow only, as shown in "Wood Ear," the daughter can still resort to sexual love and further anticipate the beautiful intimacy and giving-birth as shown in "Mussels."
这一组诗歌可以离析苏若兮诗歌的出几个主题。第一个主题可谓是每个女性写作者，实际上也是所有作者，直觉感到的基本主题，用塞克斯顿的话说，就是巫。这里的巫术并非作恶，不是对于恶魔的崇拜，因此她无须驱魔，也就是她内心并无一股将她牵引到邪恶与毁坏之路的力量。在《体验》这首诗中，那种巫术制成了上帝的床帷，而这个上帝却又是诗歌说话人按照自己的需要创造出来做奴仆的。这上帝是作为自己的父亲和情人构想出来的。在《写作》中，那个被呼唤出来的他也同样可说是上帝-父亲-情人，她将自己“送进他的臂弯”。有了如此创造，她才不会畏惧无论多么空旷的暮色（《体验》）。这就引入了第二个主题：创造。
艺术创造与女性而言，是很容易联系到生命创造的，不过显然苏若兮还没有准备好写作这一点。因此，在她的诗歌中，月亮主要还是作为性爱的意象，与月亮的周期紧密联系的是他的来去，如《破月亮》所暗示的。月亮与女巫的联系由来已久，在《破月亮》中，说话人“确定他来我心里作祟的声音”。当然，苏若兮也写了不知一首有关月亮的诗歌，月亮也有不同的象征，其中之一就是象征着她想要控制的权力。在《七月》一诗中，月亮是她可能收获的田野，但是在此不仅她的工具生锈了，而且她连自己都站立不稳，最终落得被他人命名的结局。然而，无论月亮证明了她的努力多么失败，月亮本身仍然是她召唤的对象和自我授权的场点。
失败可说是她诗中的另一个主题。说到底，《破月亮》是有关授权与丧权的悖论。《七月》也是如此。自我失权也是《倾杯》的一个主题。此诗开始，说话人希望自己是流体的，也就是说，她自我感觉是此时的她太过棱角分明、太坚实了。她所渴望的容器自然可以根据传统理解为母体或者子宫、女性特质的摇篮，正如另一个传统象征“母贝”所暗示的一样。这一主题几乎可以和写作主题一直起来。在《倾杯》中，说话人独自“紧盯了他沉吟的嘴唇”，似乎并没有因为自己的死亡而有多少遗憾。在《蚌》则是母女两人不约而同地“敲苦难的房门”。
写作，对于说话人来说，就是敲苦难的房门，这当然又要回到母性-巫婆力量。写作便是一种巫术。只是此刻的说话人似乎还不是一个母亲，因此母亲-母性依然是她一个最根本的源泉，这犹如记忆一样。记忆，不仅仅是她体验和拥有的，而且也是她和母亲分享的。在创造或者生育中，母女关系得以直接相连。当母亲慢慢变老，疲倦，与自己的影子相依，如《木耳》中所写的那样，女儿则还可诉诸性爱，从而预期“很美”的“亲近”和“诞辰”。
Su Ruoxi: July; Writing
苏若兮诗歌一札译读(三)
July
by Su Ruoxi tr. Fan Jinghua
The moon has grown grasses on its body
I reap them every night
The moon is shiny like being shaven
So I am left with a rusty sickle only
I want to hack someone
But I slip
And fall from the moon
They call me a lake
七月
苏若兮
月亮身上长草了
我夜夜去收割
月亮光光的
我只剩下锈迹斑斑的刀子
我想去砍谁
可我
从月亮身上滑落了
他们叫我湖泊
Writing
by Su Ruoxi tr. Fan Jinghua
I hope to make him come out
When I am taking a leisurely walk
He will come out
One minute before the storm
I saw him only once
But I remember him
I have sent myself into the bay of his arms
Unwilling to go out again
Storms of another kind
Destroy me but I remember
I have never shed any tear into his wound
Before I move him in front of my window
Like a tree in my life there
写作
苏若兮
我想让他出场
在我缓慢的散步中
在风暴的前一分钟
他出场
我只见过他一次
就记得他了
我把我送进他的臂弯
不肯外出
不一样的风暴
破坏我
我记得我不曾留下一滴泪水在他的伤口
就把他当成一棵树
搬进我窗前的生活
July
by Su Ruoxi tr. Fan Jinghua
The moon has grown grasses on its body
I reap them every night
The moon is shiny like being shaven
So I am left with a rusty sickle only
I want to hack someone
But I slip
And fall from the moon
They call me a lake
七月
苏若兮
月亮身上长草了
我夜夜去收割
月亮光光的
我只剩下锈迹斑斑的刀子
我想去砍谁
可我
从月亮身上滑落了
他们叫我湖泊
Writing
by Su Ruoxi tr. Fan Jinghua
I hope to make him come out
When I am taking a leisurely walk
He will come out
One minute before the storm
I saw him only once
But I remember him
I have sent myself into the bay of his arms
Unwilling to go out again
Storms of another kind
Destroy me but I remember
I have never shed any tear into his wound
Before I move him in front of my window
Like a tree in my life there
写作
苏若兮
我想让他出场
在我缓慢的散步中
在风暴的前一分钟
他出场
我只见过他一次
就记得他了
我把我送进他的臂弯
不肯外出
不一样的风暴
破坏我
我记得我不曾留下一滴泪水在他的伤口
就把他当成一棵树
搬进我窗前的生活
Su Ruoxi: Experience; The Broken Moon
苏若兮诗歌一札译读(二)
Experience
by Su Ruoxi tr. Fan Jinghua
In a place of immense expansion
I am the bed curtains of the God.
For my sake
He no longer vagabondizes,
For I need this god
To sleep in my heart, to sleep without lust or greed.
and to sign a cross
subconsciously across his heart in his dream.
I will have conquered him,
and made him my servant, following my heels.
Behold!
He is my father with a pipe,
My lover with a broad smile.
My eyes fix on him, and it is a moment of such reinless purity
that no dusk, no matter how unfathomable,
causes horror in me.
There will be no one coming
to knock on the door that half-closes my home.
体验
苏若兮
一个幅员辽阔的地方
我是上帝的床帷
为了我
他不再奔走
我需要这个上帝
来我心里无所贪恋地沉睡，在梦中
下意识地
在他胸口上划着十字
我已经征服他
成为我不再远行的奴仆
你看
他是我抽烟的父亲
和一脸灿笑的爱人。
我看着他，获得脱缰纯洁的一刻
再辽阔的暮色
我也无所畏惧
没有谁
来敲响虚掩的家门。
The Broken Moon
by Su Ruoxi tr. Fan Jinghua
I am certain of the haunting sound he makes in my heart
The mountains and rivers there
Are no longer wide enough
Not enough for him to wade and cross
That terrifying sound
Convulses in someone’s hungry memory
A family that cannot
Search out the criminal that shatters the night
Or maybe, he will remember me if he is shattered
For I have drawn or touched his body
So perfect and vivid
When he is shattered, I can only repeat my description
With him on my back, like a pain-making machine, endlessly
破月亮
苏若兮
我确定，他来我心里作祟的声音
我心里的山河
已不够宽阔
已不够他来渡过
那可怕的声音
在一个人饥饿的记忆中震动
一个家庭
找不到打碎夜晚的凶手
或许，他碎了就记住我了
我画过或摸过他的身体
那么圆满生动
他碎了，我只能重复地叙述
背着他，像一架痛苦的机器，永无休止……
Su Ruoxi 苏若兮
Experience
by Su Ruoxi tr. Fan Jinghua
In a place of immense expansion
I am the bed curtains of the God.
For my sake
He no longer vagabondizes,
For I need this god
To sleep in my heart, to sleep without lust or greed.
and to sign a cross
subconsciously across his heart in his dream.
I will have conquered him,
and made him my servant, following my heels.
Behold!
He is my father with a pipe,
My lover with a broad smile.
My eyes fix on him, and it is a moment of such reinless purity
that no dusk, no matter how unfathomable,
causes horror in me.
There will be no one coming
to knock on the door that half-closes my home.
体验
苏若兮
一个幅员辽阔的地方
我是上帝的床帷
为了我
他不再奔走
我需要这个上帝
来我心里无所贪恋地沉睡，在梦中
下意识地
在他胸口上划着十字
我已经征服他
成为我不再远行的奴仆
你看
他是我抽烟的父亲
和一脸灿笑的爱人。
我看着他，获得脱缰纯洁的一刻
再辽阔的暮色
我也无所畏惧
没有谁
来敲响虚掩的家门。
The Broken Moon
by Su Ruoxi tr. Fan Jinghua
I am certain of the haunting sound he makes in my heart
The mountains and rivers there
Are no longer wide enough
Not enough for him to wade and cross
That terrifying sound
Convulses in someone’s hungry memory
A family that cannot
Search out the criminal that shatters the night
Or maybe, he will remember me if he is shattered
For I have drawn or touched his body
So perfect and vivid
When he is shattered, I can only repeat my description
With him on my back, like a pain-making machine, endlessly
破月亮
苏若兮
我确定，他来我心里作祟的声音
我心里的山河
已不够宽阔
已不够他来渡过
那可怕的声音
在一个人饥饿的记忆中震动
一个家庭
找不到打碎夜晚的凶手
或许，他碎了就记住我了
我画过或摸过他的身体
那么圆满生动
他碎了，我只能重复地叙述
背着他，像一架痛苦的机器，永无休止……
Su Ruoxi 苏若兮
Su Ruoxi: Anguish
苏若兮诗歌一札译读(一)
Anguish
by Su Ruoxi tr. Fan Jinghua
That kind of women
boldly let themselves violated marinates and manipulated by eros
and boldly they display their shame to men
Every finger burns a lonely lamp
the affliction inside, their daily meal and light
She praises the body that is sacrificed to love
and wishes for such incisions into her face, breasts, hands and all the sensual organs
She is high on despair
and places much on sex
She is real, does not flinch at her nakedness before the wheels of eyes,
and the nature of a witch permeating every pore, she insists
she is the angel among humans
This kind of women know no fear of misunderstanding
small pale flames doused by her swelling body liquid
Yes, she will not choose to efface herself
before the hypocritical faces and eyes of men
Instead, she chooses to demonstrate and exhibit the power of her anguish
痛苦
苏若兮
那一类女人
大胆被爱欲欺凌，浸泡，摆布
大胆地，对着男人公开自己的羞耻
每个手指，都是孤独的灯火
内心的煎熬就是每天的餐饮和光明
她赞美为爱献祭的肉体
她愿意这样切割自己的脸，乳房，手，一切的感性器官
她热衷于绝望
寄托于性
她是真实的，她无畏地赤裸于目光的车轮
浑身的巫性，偏说自己是人类的天使
这样的女人不恐惧误会
小小的微弱之火被她升腾的体液浇息
是的，在男人虚伪的面目前
她不选择隐藏
她选择痛苦的示威。
It seems improper to introduce a poet by saying that she imitates another, but I like this poet. Compared with this poem, most of her poems are quite couched and understated. The sexual anxiety felt by the speaker in the society is not given an open outlet, but as an underflow. Therefore, this poem may be read as a cornerstone at the foundation of her oeuvre.
This poem borrows quite a few images from Anne Sexton’s poems, most notably “Her Kind” and “In Celebration of My Uterus.” And I think I know whose translation she was using when she wrote this poem, as that translation contained some flaws which came into this poem. This poem is not a representative poem of this poet, and it may be said that Sexton’s boldness induced her bravery. The poet is then carried away by the impulse or momentum to write out that last phrase “示威exhibit the power.”
介绍一个诗人，竟然先从她模仿另一个人的诗开始，这似乎不妥；但这不影响我喜欢这个诗人的诗，因为比起这一首诗来说，她的其它诗歌显然没有这么张狂大胆，大多数都较为隐、较为含蓄。在她的大多数诗歌中，说话人所感受到的性别焦虑并没有被给予一个公开的泄口，而是作为一种潜流被排出。因而，这首诗可说是她所有作品的一块基石。
这首诗显然从美国自白派女诗人安妮·塞克斯顿那儿借了许多，尤其是《她那一类》和《赞美我的子宫》两首。我想我知道她所阅读的是哪个人的译本，因为这也从这首诗里反映了出来。这首诗在该作者的诗中并非最具代表性的，从这个角度来说，正是塞克斯顿的"大胆"才引发了该诗人的大胆无畏，并因为受到了这种冲量或者势头的裹挟，而写出了最后一行的"示威"。
About the Poet:
Su Ruoxi was born in 1970s in Jiangsu. She started writing poetry around 2003, and now lives in Yangzhou.
苏若兮，原名XXX，1970年代生于江苏，2003年左右写诗，现居扬州。
另附我译塞克斯顿的《她那一类》如下：
Her Kind
Anne Sexton
I have gone out, a possessed witch,
haunting the black air, braver at night;
dreaming evil, I have done my hitch
over the plain houses, light by light:
lonely thing, twelve-fingered, out of mind.
A woman like that is not a woman, quite.
I have been her kind.
I have found the warm caves in the woods,
filled them with skillets, carvings, shelves,
closets, silks, innumerable goods;
fixed the suppers for the worms and the elves:
whining, rearranging the disaligned.
A woman like that is misunderstood.
I have been her kind.
I have ridden in your cart, driver,
waved my nude arms at villages going by,
learning the last bright routes, survivor
where your flames still bite my thigh
and my ribs crack where your wheels wind.
A woman like that is not ashamed to die.
I have been her kind.
她那一类
安妮塞克斯顿(1928-74) 得一忘二 译
我走出门去，魔力附身的女巫，
缠住了黑空气，越夜越勇猛；
我做梦都想作恶，一户一户
连接清白人家，一盏一盏点灯：
孤独的东西，十二只手指，脑子不对。
这样的女人算不得一个女人，真不像。
我一向就是她那一类。
我在树林里发现了一些温暖的洞穴，
将它们塞满炒锅、小雕刻、衣橱、
层架、丝绸、还有不计其数的杂物；
我为软体虫和作乱的小精灵做晚餐：
牢骚带着哭腔，整理乱了的一切。
这样的女人总是被人误会，
我一向就是她那一类。
我乘坐着你的马车，驾车人，
挥着裸臂向退去的村庄一一告别，
记住这最后的闪光之途，幸存者，
一路上，你的烈焰还在啃咬我的大腿,
你的轮子辚辚碾过，我的肋骨咔嚓作响。
这样的女人不会羞于死亡。
我一向就是她那一类。
Anguish
by Su Ruoxi tr. Fan Jinghua
That kind of women
boldly let themselves violated marinates and manipulated by eros
and boldly they display their shame to men
Every finger burns a lonely lamp
the affliction inside, their daily meal and light
She praises the body that is sacrificed to love
and wishes for such incisions into her face, breasts, hands and all the sensual organs
She is high on despair
and places much on sex
She is real, does not flinch at her nakedness before the wheels of eyes,
and the nature of a witch permeating every pore, she insists
she is the angel among humans
This kind of women know no fear of misunderstanding
small pale flames doused by her swelling body liquid
Yes, she will not choose to efface herself
before the hypocritical faces and eyes of men
Instead, she chooses to demonstrate and exhibit the power of her anguish
痛苦
苏若兮
那一类女人
大胆被爱欲欺凌，浸泡，摆布
大胆地，对着男人公开自己的羞耻
每个手指，都是孤独的灯火
内心的煎熬就是每天的餐饮和光明
她赞美为爱献祭的肉体
她愿意这样切割自己的脸，乳房，手，一切的感性器官
她热衷于绝望
寄托于性
她是真实的，她无畏地赤裸于目光的车轮
浑身的巫性，偏说自己是人类的天使
这样的女人不恐惧误会
小小的微弱之火被她升腾的体液浇息
是的，在男人虚伪的面目前
她不选择隐藏
她选择痛苦的示威。
It seems improper to introduce a poet by saying that she imitates another, but I like this poet. Compared with this poem, most of her poems are quite couched and understated. The sexual anxiety felt by the speaker in the society is not given an open outlet, but as an underflow. Therefore, this poem may be read as a cornerstone at the foundation of her oeuvre.
This poem borrows quite a few images from Anne Sexton’s poems, most notably “Her Kind” and “In Celebration of My Uterus.” And I think I know whose translation she was using when she wrote this poem, as that translation contained some flaws which came into this poem. This poem is not a representative poem of this poet, and it may be said that Sexton’s boldness induced her bravery. The poet is then carried away by the impulse or momentum to write out that last phrase “示威exhibit the power.”
介绍一个诗人，竟然先从她模仿另一个人的诗开始，这似乎不妥；但这不影响我喜欢这个诗人的诗，因为比起这一首诗来说，她的其它诗歌显然没有这么张狂大胆，大多数都较为隐、较为含蓄。在她的大多数诗歌中，说话人所感受到的性别焦虑并没有被给予一个公开的泄口，而是作为一种潜流被排出。因而，这首诗可说是她所有作品的一块基石。
这首诗显然从美国自白派女诗人安妮·塞克斯顿那儿借了许多，尤其是《她那一类》和《赞美我的子宫》两首。我想我知道她所阅读的是哪个人的译本，因为这也从这首诗里反映了出来。这首诗在该作者的诗中并非最具代表性的，从这个角度来说，正是塞克斯顿的"大胆"才引发了该诗人的大胆无畏，并因为受到了这种冲量或者势头的裹挟，而写出了最后一行的"示威"。
About the Poet:
Su Ruoxi was born in 1970s in Jiangsu. She started writing poetry around 2003, and now lives in Yangzhou.
苏若兮，原名XXX，1970年代生于江苏，2003年左右写诗，现居扬州。
另附我译塞克斯顿的《她那一类》如下：
Her Kind
Anne Sexton
I have gone out, a possessed witch,
haunting the black air, braver at night;
dreaming evil, I have done my hitch
over the plain houses, light by light:
lonely thing, twelve-fingered, out of mind.
A woman like that is not a woman, quite.
I have been her kind.
I have found the warm caves in the woods,
filled them with skillets, carvings, shelves,
closets, silks, innumerable goods;
fixed the suppers for the worms and the elves:
whining, rearranging the disaligned.
A woman like that is misunderstood.
I have been her kind.
I have ridden in your cart, driver,
waved my nude arms at villages going by,
learning the last bright routes, survivor
where your flames still bite my thigh
and my ribs crack where your wheels wind.
A woman like that is not ashamed to die.
I have been her kind.
她那一类
安妮塞克斯顿(1928-74) 得一忘二 译
我走出门去，魔力附身的女巫，
缠住了黑空气，越夜越勇猛；
我做梦都想作恶，一户一户
连接清白人家，一盏一盏点灯：
孤独的东西，十二只手指，脑子不对。
这样的女人算不得一个女人，真不像。
我一向就是她那一类。
我在树林里发现了一些温暖的洞穴，
将它们塞满炒锅、小雕刻、衣橱、
层架、丝绸、还有不计其数的杂物；
我为软体虫和作乱的小精灵做晚餐：
牢骚带着哭腔，整理乱了的一切。
这样的女人总是被人误会，
我一向就是她那一类。
我乘坐着你的马车，驾车人，
挥着裸臂向退去的村庄一一告别，
记住这最后的闪光之途，幸存者，
一路上，你的烈焰还在啃咬我的大腿,
你的轮子辚辚碾过，我的肋骨咔嚓作响。
这样的女人不会羞于死亡。
我一向就是她那一类。
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