我走近那個立方體時
感到抓住了什麽。
像啞巴睡了一覺，擡頭望見一棵梨樹。
你想想，那梨樹。
你想想，名字與本人的關系
關于窗戶的照片
以及百合花在雨中所具有的條件反射。
我們知道，等月亮也有等得不耐煩的時候
而立方體，睡一覺就會忘掉。
那些喜歡竊聽的孩子，像一幅
豎著電綫的田園畫
向四周致意，直到我們意識到他們。
2007.3.6
2015年11月17日 星期二
2015年11月7日 星期六
《索隱》〈之十六‧索〉◎陳育虹
你最好不出現--
你，一枚多餘的月
天空已經太擠
事實是我寧願一個人
在最夜的夜
沒有一顆星的夜
看著你，看著自己
我們並不存在
一切可見而不可見
在這樣的黑夜，我撫摸的
不是你--
我幾乎感覺
那麼，是你的魂嗎？
而一切都不確定
今天，明天，下一刻鐘
真的存在嗎
黑夜與靈魂真的
存在嗎
所以這樣最好，我寧願
這樣想你
你，一枚獨角的
藍色的月，不可能的
我的--
所以你最好不出現
你最好出現
在最夜的黑夜
Search by Chen Yuhong, translated by Chenxin Jiang
You had better not appear
you, a superfluous moon
the sky is already too crowded
the truth is, I would rather be alone
on the most night night
the night without a star
looking at you, looking at myself
we don't exist
everything can be seen and cannot be seen
on a night like this, what I am touching
is not you -
I can almost feel
so, is that your soul?
and everything is uncertain
today, tomorrow, the next instant
do they/does it really exist?
do the night and the soul really exist?
so this is best, I would rather
think of/about you this way
you, a one-horned
blue moon, an impossible
my -
so you had better not appear
you had better appear
on the darkest black night
2013年2月23日 星期六
〈歧義〉◎若爾·諾爾
你說最深的那道溝在兩峰之間，那裡有激流和瀑布，有蟲吟和鳥鳴，是你嬉樂之地。我不想告訴你，最深的溝在我眉宇之間，那裡蘊藏著地下水，蝸牛沈重腳步的廻響，是我憂傷之秘處。
我們不必認同，山有多高水有多深，你爬出谿壑的時候，我還在幻想，沒有出現的美景。Picture: Carl Warner
2013年1月22日 星期二
One Today 同一個今天
One
Today by Richard Blanco
〈同一個今天〉◎沈政男翻譯
One
sun rose on us today, kindled over our shores,
peeking over the Smokies, greeting the faces
of the Great Lakes, spreading a simple truth
across the Great Plains, then charging across the Rockies.
peeking over the Smokies, greeting the faces
of the Great Lakes, spreading a simple truth
across the Great Plains, then charging across the Rockies.
一輪日頭今天朝我們升起，燃亮在我們的海岸之上
在大煙山脈之上窺視，迎接大湖的臉龐，散佈一項簡單的事實
通過大平原，然後奔過洛磯山脈。
One light, waking up rooftops, under each one, a story
told by our silent gestures moving behind windows.
一道光線，叫醒屋頂，在每座之下，一個故事
被我們無聲的舉止在窗戶之後訴說。
My
face, your face, millions of faces in morning's mirrors,
each one yawning to life, crescendoing into our day:
pencil-yellow school buses, the rhythm of traffic lights,
fruit stands: apples, limes, and oranges arrayed like rainbows
begging our praise. Silver trucks heavy with oil or paper—
bricks or milk, teeming over highways alongside us,
on our way to clean tables, read ledgers, or save lives—
to teach geometry, or ring-up groceries as my mother did
for twenty years, so I could write this poem.
each one yawning to life, crescendoing into our day:
pencil-yellow school buses, the rhythm of traffic lights,
fruit stands: apples, limes, and oranges arrayed like rainbows
begging our praise. Silver trucks heavy with oil or paper—
bricks or milk, teeming over highways alongside us,
on our way to clean tables, read ledgers, or save lives—
to teach geometry, or ring-up groceries as my mother did
for twenty years, so I could write this poem.
我的臉，你的臉，百萬張臉在早晨的鏡子裡，
每一張臉打著呵欠醒來，漸次奏響我們的一天：鉛筆黃的校車巴士，交通號誌的節奏，
水果攤：蘋果，萊姆，與柑橘像彩虹一樣排列
索討我們的讚賞。銀色卡車滿載汽油與紙張——
磚頭與牛奶，沿著我們旁邊充塞公路之上，
在我們前往清理桌子，閱讀帳簿，或拯救生命的路上——
前往教授幾何學，或者登記雜貨買賣如同我的母親所為
二十年來，讓我得以書寫這首詩。
All of
us as vital as the one light we move through,
the same light on blackboards with lessons for the day:
equations to solve, history to question, or atoms imagined,
the "I have a dream" we keep dreaming,
or the impossible vocabulary of sorrow that won't explain
the empty desks of twenty children marked absent
today, and forever. Many prayers, but one light
breathing color into stained glass windows,
life into the faces of bronze statues, warmth
onto the steps of our museums and park benches
as mothers watch children slide into the day.
the same light on blackboards with lessons for the day:
equations to solve, history to question, or atoms imagined,
the "I have a dream" we keep dreaming,
or the impossible vocabulary of sorrow that won't explain
the empty desks of twenty children marked absent
today, and forever. Many prayers, but one light
breathing color into stained glass windows,
life into the faces of bronze statues, warmth
onto the steps of our museums and park benches
as mothers watch children slide into the day.
我們每一個人像我們所穿越的那道陽光那麼生氣蓬勃，
同一道陽光在寫著我們一天功課的黑板之上：待解的方程式，要詢問的歷史，或者想像中的原子，
我們持續做著的「我有一個夢」，
或者我們無法解釋無法接受的悲傷詞彙
二十個學童被標明缺席的空書桌
今天，永遠。有許多祈禱，但同一道陽光
將顏色吹進彩色玻璃窗戶，
將生命吹進銅像的臉龐，將溫暖
吹在博物館的階梯上與公園板凳
當母親注視著孩子滑進這一天。
One
ground. Our ground, rooting us to every stalk
of corn, every head of wheat sown by sweat
and hands, hands gleaning coal or planting windmills
in deserts and hilltops that keep us warm, hands
digging trenches, routing pipes and cables, hands
as worn as my father's cutting sugarcane
so my brother and I could have books and shoes.
of corn, every head of wheat sown by sweat
and hands, hands gleaning coal or planting windmills
in deserts and hilltops that keep us warm, hands
digging trenches, routing pipes and cables, hands
as worn as my father's cutting sugarcane
so my brother and I could have books and shoes.
同一片土地。我們的土地，將我們種植在每一株
玉米裡，汗水所播種的每一粒麥穗而雙手，收取木炭或建造風車的雙手
在沙漠與嶺巔使我們溫暖，雙手
挖掘壕溝，檢查水管與電纜，雙手
磨損到像我的父親收割甘蔗那般
好讓我的兄弟與我買得起書與鞋子。
The
dust of farms and deserts, cities and plains
mingled by one wind—our breath. Breathe. Hear it
through the day's gorgeous din of honking cabs,
buses launching down avenues, the symphony
of footsteps, guitars, and screeching subways,
the unexpected song bird on your clothes line.
mingled by one wind—our breath. Breathe. Hear it
through the day's gorgeous din of honking cabs,
buses launching down avenues, the symphony
of footsteps, guitars, and screeching subways,
the unexpected song bird on your clothes line.
農村與沙漠的塵土，城市與平原
被同一陣風混合——我們的呼吸。呼吸。聽它
穿過這一天計程車喇叭的輝煌喧囂，
巴士駛往大道，交響樂
步伐所唱出，吉他，與嘈雜吱嘎的地鐵，
不請自來的歌鳥停駐曬衣繩之上。
Hear:
squeaky playground swings, trains whistling,
or whispers across café tables, Hear: the doors we open
for each other all day, saying: hello, shalom,
buon giorno, howdy, namaste, or buenos días
in the language my mother taught me—in every language
spoken into one wind carrying our lives
without prejudice, as these words break from my lips.
or whispers across café tables, Hear: the doors we open
for each other all day, saying: hello, shalom,
buon giorno, howdy, namaste, or buenos días
in the language my mother taught me—in every language
spoken into one wind carrying our lives
without prejudice, as these words break from my lips.
聽：嗶嘰晃動的操場，列車鳴笛，
或者咖啡桌上的細語，聽：我們一整天互相
為彼此打開的門，說：哈囉，shalom，
buon
giorno, howdy, namaste, or buenos días用母親教我的語言—用每一種語言
述說進承載我們生命的同一陣風
沒有偏見，當這些言語從我的嘴唇破出。
One
sky: since the Appalachians and Sierras claimed
their majesty, and the Mississippi and Colorado worked
their way to the sea. Thank the work of our hands:
weaving steel into bridges, finishing one more report
for the boss on time, stitching another wound
or uniform, the first brush stroke on a portrait,
or the last floor on the Freedom Tower
jutting into a sky that yields to our resilience.
their majesty, and the Mississippi and Colorado worked
their way to the sea. Thank the work of our hands:
weaving steel into bridges, finishing one more report
for the boss on time, stitching another wound
or uniform, the first brush stroke on a portrait,
or the last floor on the Freedom Tower
jutting into a sky that yields to our resilience.
同一片天空：從阿帕拉契人與喜悅拉人宣揚
他們的主權，密西西比人與科羅拉多人努力行向大海開始。感謝操勞的雙手：
編織鋼筋成橋，再完成一份報告
準時交給上司，縫合另一道傷口
或一件制服，畫像上頭的第一道筆觸，
或者自由之塔的最後一層樓
挺進那片臣服於我們的韌性的天空。
One
sky, toward which we sometimes lift our eyes
tired from work: some days guessing at the weather
of our lives, some days giving thanks for a love
that loves you back, sometimes praising a mother
who knew how to give, or forgiving a father
who couldn't give what you wanted.
tired from work: some days guessing at the weather
of our lives, some days giving thanks for a love
that loves you back, sometimes praising a mother
who knew how to give, or forgiving a father
who couldn't give what you wanted.
同一片天空，有時我們抬起工作到疲累
的眼睛注視之：有些日子猜測我們的生活氣象，有些日子對一份愛表達感謝
那回饋給你的愛，有時稱讚懂得
如何付出的母親，或者原諒無法給予
你所想要之物的父親。
We
head home: through the gloss of rain or weight
of snow, or the plum blush of dusk, but always—home,
always under one sky, our sky. And always one moon
like a silent drum tapping on every rooftop
and every window, of one country—all of us—
facing the stars
hope—a new constellation
waiting for us to map it,
waiting for us to name it—together.
of snow, or the plum blush of dusk, but always—home,
always under one sky, our sky. And always one moon
like a silent drum tapping on every rooftop
and every window, of one country—all of us—
facing the stars
hope—a new constellation
waiting for us to map it,
waiting for us to name it—together.
我們啟程回家：穿過雨的光澤或者雪
的沉重，或者羞紅如梅的暮色，然而總是——回家，總是在同一片天空之下，我們的天空。而總是有同一輪明月
像無聲的鼓敲擊在每一座屋頂
與每一扇窗戶，屬於同一個國家—我們全體——
面像星辰
希望——一座嶄新的星群
等待我們去拼圖，
等待我們去為其命名—眾人一起。
2013年1月19日 星期六
脫軌而去 Derailment
〈脫軌而去〉
原著：綠豆
英譯：若爾．諾爾
The long avenue is a spectrum,
I was wide of the mark.
An uncovered soda bottle is drifting away,
to its rear, thousands of noisy bridges passed by.
長路大道都是譜
我是離譜
一個無蓋汽水瓶的茫茫漂流
背影過了千百座喧囂的長橋
我是離譜
一個無蓋汽水瓶的茫茫漂流
背影過了千百座喧囂的長橋
Picture : The Marquam Bridge
黑白
在車流熙攘的街道，跳躍黑白邊界的斑馬線伸延到路的盡頭，使到一隻斑馬走過時產生錯覺，以為同類被車子輾斃，懼怕得全身發抖。無法及時煞車的多部車輛﹐連環撞死站在斑馬線中間的斑馬！
另一隻斑馬看到這個情景說﹕「斑馬線不安全」，於是選擇在沒有斑馬線的地方過馬路﹐結果也給車子撞斃！
斑馬線感嘆自己的存在，沒有意義﹐躍身向草原馳騁而去﹗還沒有過馬路的一群斑馬，看到這情景臉色大變，驚慌起來﹐相繼撲倒在馬路上﹐變成了黑白交錯的斑馬線！
收錄在《新世紀網絡世代人選吹鼓吹》
圖片：Pachyderm
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