BEIJING: SEPTEMBER MORNING
i kiss you in the morning light
i hear the morning sounds of birds
i see the flowers on the roof
it should have rained a while ago
but it is cool
and you are warm
MW September 2007
九月的早晨
维马丁(奥地利)
我在晨曦中吻你
耳听清晨群鸟的啼鸣
目睹爬山虎爬上屋顶
一场渴望中的雨终于未下
但天已凉了
而你是暖的
( 伊沙 译)
Yi Sha
[NO TITLE #206]
That year
I escaped from Beijing back to old Chang’an.
Went to a college, held up my rice-bowl
Head buried in poetry,
head raised to see people;
riding a bicycle
in and out of campus.
That year
no matter what I wrote or did
deep down I felt wounded
from summer,
no matter if I was smiling
or even making love to my girlfriend.
Winter was coming,
no heating came through to my dormitory.
I blew on my fingers,
the ink was freezing as I kept writing.
In these wintry days,
the most famous wall on the world coming down,
people cheered on both sides;
precious few news in our papers.
I didn’t understand very much;
the news did not heal my wounds
but didn’t add any pain.
Now I look back twenty years later,
I finally know how historic it was.
Iron curtain lifted at last,
great step for mankind.
What I can do as a poet in China?
Head buried in poetry, head raised to see people.
2009/2010
Tr. MW, Jan. 2015
2009年11月(16首)
《无题(201)》
父亲想露一手
亲自下厨
做了一锅红烧肉
半碗吞下去
眼泪快出来
哦!在重庆
嘉陵江边长大的
父亲做的红烧肉
不搁辣椒却放糖
甜丝丝的
是江南的味道
是上海的味道
是母亲的味道
母亲已去多年
这是她
留在这个家里
永远不散的味道