加载中…汉英双语版《洪烛的诗》：彼岸花
(2018-09-04 22:25:38)
标签：
杂谈洪烛历史情感文化 |
洪烛：原名王军，1967年生于南京，1989年武汉大学毕业，现任中国文联出版社诗歌分社总监。出版诗集《我的西域》《仓央嘉措心史》，长篇小说《两栖人》，散文集《梦游者的地图》《抚摸古典的中国》等40多部。
Hong Zhu: The real name is Wang Jun, Born in 1967 in Nanjing,
Graduated from Wuhan University in 1989. Now he is the director of
poetry branch of China Federation of Literary and Art Circles
press. Published more than 40 volumes of poetry，including the poems
“My western domain”, “Heart road process Tsangyang Gyatso”, the
novel “The amphibian”, the collection of essays “The map of the
sleepwalkers” and “Touching the classical China”.
汉英双语版《洪烛的诗》
Hong Zhu’s Poem
洪烛《彼岸花》
原野 翻译
彼岸花
（选自洪烛长诗《仓央嘉措心史》）
洪烛
有眼睛，却看不见彼岸
只看见渡船
有渡船，却找不到方向
只找到波浪
有浪花，却没力气采摘
一朵朵，一朵朵，破碎在水上
有路，却没有路标
有路标，却读不懂上面画的图案
我在船上，你在路上
当我抵达彼岸，你却回到了此岸
有问题，却找不到答案
你只对我笑了一下
有误会：我以为掌握了真相
你说那不过是又一个美丽的假相
有花，却闻不见香
有种花的人，却不知道长什么模样
Bana
By Hongzhu
Having eyes, but I can not see the other side of the river
I can only saw the ferry
Having ferry, but I can not find directions
Only to find the waves
Having waves, but I have no strength to pick
One after another, one after another, broken on the water
Having a road, but without any road signs
Having road signs, but I can not interpret these patterns
I'm on a boat while you are on the road
When I reach the other side, you return to this shore
There are problems, but I can not find the solution
You only smiles to me
There is misunderstanding: I thought I've grasped the truth
You say, that is but a beautiful illusion
There are
flowers, but I could not smell the scent
There is a gardener, but do not know how he looks like
洪烛《楚魂》
浓浓的绿意
翻译
楚魂
洪烛
没人在你的尸体上覆盖一面国旗
它已由汨罗江的波浪代替
即使楚国的旗帜变成了灰
你胸前的波涛还是无法恢复平静
睡在江水里的人啊，似乎随时会翻身坐起
找那把锈得没影了的剑
同样找不到的是：敌人在哪里?
只有涛声还在，还在朗诵着
你临睡前写下的诗句：
“身既死兮神以灵，魂魄毅兮为鬼雄……”
哪怕祖国忘掉你了，哪怕祖国变成泡影
你还是愿意默默地为祖国的倒影而战
没人在你的墓前烧一炷香
因为你的坟墓地址不详
或者说它彻底是由水做的
只有你知道自已住在哪里
可你被一扇水做的门反锁住了
即使听见敲门声，哭哑了的嗓子却无法答应
还有什么比让一个歌手沉默更难忍耐?
你梦见自己的影子仍然在岸上走着
一遍又一遍地唱着快要失传的楚歌：
“吾不能变心而从俗兮，固将愁苦而终穷!”
死者还在坚持的信仰
却被许多活人放弃了
它即使丢在水中，仍然很烫手
The
Soul of Chu State
by
Hong Zhu tr. Lush Greenness
No one
covers your lifeless body with a national flag,
But it
is flooded over by waves of the Miluo River.
Though
the banners of Chu State turn into ash.
Great
waves in your chest turn to no tranquility at all.
Immersing in deep water, you seem to turn up at any time
To
look for that rust-eaten sword.
And
you are unable to know where the foes are,
Only
to hear the sounds of waves repeating
The
verse you wrote at bedtime,
“My
spirit shall reign as a hero among the deceased,
though
my body’s slain……”
Whether your country lets you slip in its mind,
or
even it becomes bubbles,
You
are ready to fight for its inverted reflection in water.
No one
burns a stick of incense before your tomb,
As it
is unclear when and where you are dead,
Or
rather your cemetery is made of pure water.
Only
you know your own burial place, and
Actually you are locked inside by the gates of water.
Even
now you hear knocks outside, you can give no answer
as you
cry yourself hoarse.
What
else will make a minstrel suffer except for shutting up?
You
always dream of your own shadow walking on the shore,
Singing a nearly-forgotten song of Chu time and again,
“O
Fate, I cannot convert to earthliness. Hence I am destined
to be
distressed and poverty-stricken.”
The
departed sticks to the belief desperately,
But
those who are alive go so far as to abandon it.
In
case of dropping that into water, it surely is hot to the
touch!
灰烬之歌
洪烛
灰烬，应该算是最轻的废墟
一阵风就足以将其彻底摧毁
然而它尽可能地保持原来的姿态
屹立着，延长梦的期限
在灰烬面前我下意识地屏住呼吸
说实话，我也跟它一样：不愿醒来
一本书被焚毁，所有的页码
依然重叠，只不过颜色变黑
不要轻易地翻阅了，就让它静静地
躺在壁炉里，维持着尊严
其实灰烬是最怕冷的，其实灰烬
最容易伤心。所以你别碰它
我愿意采取灰烬的形式，赞美那场
消失了的火灾。我是火的遗孀
所有伟大的爱情都不过如此
只留下记忆，在漆黑的夜里，默默凭吊
Ode to
the Ashes
Tr. by
Xu Jun
Ashes,
should be counted as the ruins lightest
Completely destroyed by a gust of wind enough
Yet
original pose they maintained as far as they could
Standing erect, to extend the deadline of a dream
Before
ashes I hold unconsciously my breath
Speak
the truth, I resemble them too: Reluctant to awake
A book
burnt down by fire, all of whose pages
Overlapped still; nothing but black the color turned
Do not
readily turn the pages; just leave them calmly
Alone
in the fireplace, retaining their dignity
Actually ashes fear the coldness most; actually ashes
Most
likely to break their heart. So let them be themselves
I
would take the form of ashes, to praise the conflagration
Extinguished already. The widow of fire I am
All
great love is nothing more than this
Only
memories left behind, a visit silent in the dark of night
Ting
Lan
Poetry
& Translation
喜欢
0
赠金笔
后一篇：洪烛：战火中的书生（图）