2011.04摄于江西

存谢：诗人、学者张广奎教授译的三首诗

 

A Poem

Funa Lin

(Trans. by Zhang Guangkui)

 

You, not wanting to mention of

I speak of the sky, the earth, the cloud, the sea, and the pearl

You, having nothing with all

 

When I break into this matter with sharp words repeatedly

The pearl hiding in the countless clams

When the tedious ode grows into a wrinkled rose fully

The bottom of the mouth is too deep to see

 

A group of flock crouch

Struggling against the world like a millstone

Everything compressed, transformed and pulverized

 

Past and nowadays are leaning

Smiling to each other

To predict the coming future

The mouse running into the ear of the elephant

Weak noise expanding into thunder

 

In the eyes of sika deer, and first petting of scared infant

Mature spirit and childish temperament observe

Only you of all, independent I of every things

 

In the absence, or in the promissory wildness

Wild roses grown wild

Countless you speak out, all of I sprout and blossom

 

◆诗

 

没想说起你

我说天、说地、说云、说海、说珍珠

每一样都与你无关

 

当我反复用话语先行的刀锋

进入此时的事物

那颗夜明珠隐藏在无数空蚌中

当喋喋不休的颂歌长成一朵布满皱纹的玫瑰

嘴巴的漏洞深不见底

 

三五成群的人裹挟着

辗转于称为盛世的磨盘

万事万物压缩、变形、成粉

 

前朝与本朝正在侧身

微笑相视

乃至预见到新朝代的一衣带水

灵鼠进入大象的耳朵

微弱的声音扩张为雷鸣

 

在梅花鹿的眼光，圣婴的原初抚摸里

长大成人的灵魂与孩童的心性洞见

一切中唯一的你，所有里独立的我

 

在不存在的，或者早经约定的旷野

野玫瑰砰然怒放

无数的你开口说话，所有的我吐叶开花

 

 

 

A Poet

Funa Lin

(Trans. by Zhang Guangkui)

 

Locking tightly, the former house

As if Mr. Chen’s later years’ eyes

The deep of two closed windows, as clear as the glass

 

Just like parts of fictions, the play of human beings show continuously

The concealment of reality is unforgivable. I murmuring “Independent thought, free spirit”

Like my own chains

 

Who takes unjust actions under the cover of the justice?

The dagger, hanging above the head. Two disparate faces on the earth

Fears of different times holding same cruelty

 

Both buildings and soil have memories, its life, the witness of spots

Tiny things, prior to human beings, though experienced suffering

Getting into history, confirming the truth silently

 

The pale residues, blood-red land

The last silence

Sanctimonious men, growing up in the hormone, how to make contorted soul straight

 

On the grass slope, mother bared her soft breast

Chatting with child

Milk and voice flow into child’s mind and body

 

Others’ pain is the poet’s pain

Others’ love is the poet’s love

I can cry, I can laugh

 

Not can I forgive the truth, but the ugliness once upon

Still trust the nice ignorance

There is a kind of language called silence, and a kind of life called burning

 

 

◆诗者

 

故居紧闭着

就像 陈寅恪先生晚年的眼睛

两扇关闭的窗户深处清明如镜

 

宛若小说的虚构部分，人类的戏剧持续登场

真实剧情的遮蔽不可原谅。我念叨着“独立之思想，自由之精神”

犹如自身之紧箍咒

 

谁在挟正义之辞行不义之举

高悬于头顶的无形匕首、泥土上分裂异处的脸

不同时代的恐怖具有相同的暴戾

 

建筑物与土地均有记忆，它的生命是现场的见证

先于人类而存在的细小事物，纵然经历洗劫

仍以无言进入历史、印证真相

 

惨白的残渣，血红的土地

这最后的沉默不语啊

从激素里虚长起来的光滑人，扭曲的灵魂如何挺直

 

草坡上母亲敞开柔软的乳房

轻轻与孩子交谈

乳汁连同声音汩汩流进幼稚的身心

 

他人的痛苦是诗者的痛苦

他人的爱是诗者的爱

我有哭的本能，也有笑的意愿

 

无法原谅真相，却原谅了自己一再看到丑陋

依然相信美好的无知

有一种语言是默语，有一种人生是燃烧

 

 

Dancer

Funa Lin

(Trans. by Zhang Guangkui)

 

No Aeolus’ bag of treasure, no Vitas’ sound of dolphin

Her looking’s hurricane-eye, her twittering’s shocking the souls

 

Alluring men, stirring women

No Hands’clapping, refusing applauding

 

Who, gave lauding, even as a tip, to the puny

Who, gave revering, to the exterior

 

Sobbing, roaring, weeping, praying...

All of these, are part of her

 

The living things, sages, hollow men and God...

None of these, are her.

 

From subway to lift, from tower to ruins

Flowers are blooming, in a blink, freezes dancing

 

Then all come into art with action, and baptize by poetry
Attendants are all dancers, flowers are all grails.

 

Sobbing, roaring, weeping, praying...

All of these, are part of her

 

 

◆舞者

 

没有风神的宝袋，没有维塔斯的海豚腔

她的眼睛深如风眼，呢喃震憾人心

 

男人被吸引，女人被鼓动

没有掌声，也不需要掌声

 

谁给过弱小的生灵一次真心的赞美

谁对自身以外的世界葆有敬畏

 

呜咽、怒吼、婴啼、祈祷......

一切都是她

 

生灵、智者、空心人、上帝......

一切都不是她

 

从地道到电梯,高楼至废墟

在百花即将争妍的刹那,她的舞蹈霍然而止

 

于是所有人以行为合奏交响,诗歌执行洗礼

在场的人都是舞者,花朵均是圣杯

 

呜咽、怒吼、婴啼、祈祷......

一切都是她