广州林巧儿 英译 胡弦诗8首
Hu Xian's  8 Poems （Translated by Lina Moon）


1  裂隙

从完整的事物，它开始，
让一颗没有准备的心，
突然有了此岸与彼岸。
 
于是，有人学习造桥，
有人学习造船……
 
一个奇怪的幽灵在掌控这一切：
并为远航
培养出了出色的水手。直到
 
它彻底裂开，
互不相干的两半被一段
空白隔开。
 
看上去，各自完整；
看上去，裂隙仿佛已不在现场。


The Fracture

Starting from a whole thing
It makes the unprepared heart
suddenly have this side and the other side.

So some people learn how to build bridges,
Some people learn how to make boats...

A strange apparition controls all this 
And has trained excellent sailors 
for the long voyage. Until

It's thoroughly cracked
The two irrelevant halves are separated
by a blank space.

It seems that each one is complete
It seems as if the fissure is no longer there.
 

2 卵石

——那是关于黑暗的
另一个版本：一种有无限耐心的恶，
在音乐里经营它的集中营：
当流水温柔的舔舐
如同戴手套的刽子手有教养的抚摸，
看住自己是如此困难。
你在不断失去，先是坚硬棱角，
接着是光洁、日渐顺从的躯体。
如同品味快感，如同
在对毁灭不紧不慢的玩味中已建立起
某种乐趣，滑过你
体表的喧响，一直在留意
你心底更深、更隐秘的东西。
直到你变得很小，被铺在公园的小径上，
经过的脚，像踩着密集的眼珠……
但没有谁深究你看见过什么。岁月
只静观，不说恐惧，也从不说出
万物需要视力的原因。


 The Pebble  

----It's another version about darkness：
an evil with infinite patience
is running its concentration camp in music:
when the water licks tenderly
like a gentle touch by a gloved executioner,
It's so hard to guard itself.
You keep losing, first the hard edges ,
then the smooth and increasingly submissive body.
Like tasting pleasure, like an interest
built up in the unhurried contemplation 
slipping past you
The noise on your body skin, always pays attention to
something deeper and more private inside your heart.
till you become very small and are paved on the garden path,
The passing feet, like stepping on dense eyes...
But no one looks into what you have seen.
The years only watches quietly, not tells fear, and never speaks
why all things need sight.
 


3  树

树下来过恋人，坐过
陷入回忆的老者。
没人的时候，树冠孤悬，
树干，像遗忘在某个事件中的柱子。
有次做梦，我梦见它的根，
像一群苦修者——他们
在黑暗中待得太久了，
对我梦中的光亮感兴趣。
——不可能每棵树都是圣贤，我知道
有些树会死于狂笑，另一些
会死于内心的自责声。所以，
有的树选择秘密地活着，把自己
同另外的事物锁在一起；
有的，则在自己的落叶中行走，学会了
如何处理多余的激情。


 The Tree 

Under the tree,there were lovers 
There were also some aged people siting there, lost in memory
When everyone is gone, the treetop hangs alone,
The trunk, like a pillar forgotten in one event.
Once in a dream, I saw its roots,
like a bunch of ascetics -- they
had been staying in the dark for too long,
and were interested in the light in my dream.
------It is impossible that every tree is a saint, 
I know, some trees will die of wild laughter, 
Others will die for the voice of inner blame.
So,some trees choose to live secretly and lock themselves 
together with something else;
Some have learned how to walk among their own fallen leaves  
and to deal with their excess passions
 

4 钟表之歌

我不替谁代言。
我这样旋转只是想表明
我无须制造漩涡也是中心。
在我这里没有拖后出现的人也不存在
比原计划提前发生的事。
一切都在我指定的某个时刻上。
我在此亦在彼，在青铜中亦在
镜像中。当初，
是我从矿石中提炼出铁砂，
是我让大海蔚蓝山脉高耸，
是我折磨月亮让它一次次悔过自新因为
这也是真理产生的方式。
所有的上帝和神都从我这里出发
又回到我这里。
我建立过无数已毁灭的国家今后仍当如是。
除了我的滴答声并不存在别的宗教。
我的上一个念头是北欧的雪崩下一个
会换成中国屋檐上的鸽子。
我让爆炸声等同于咳声，
我让争吵的政客和哭泣的恋人有同一个结局。
我是完美的。不同的语言述说
同样的鸟城市天空这是我的安排。
我创造世界并大于这世界。
我不哭不笑不解释不叹息因为
这永远不是问题的核心。
当我停步我仍能把你们抓牢犹如
国王在宫殿里打盹远方
军队在消灭它能找到的东西。
 

  A Song of the Clock
 
I don't speak for anyone.
I rotate in this way just to show that
I am the center even I don't need to make a vortex 
No people will be left behind me  
and nothing will happen earlier than the plan
Everything happens at the time I've specified.
I am here and there, in bronze
and in mirror images. 
At the beginning,
It was me who extracted the crude iron from the ore,
It was me who made the sea blue and the mountains high,
It is me who torments the moon and makes it repent again and again 
because that's a way the truth is produced
All gods and deities start from me
and come back to me.
I have built many nations that have been destroyed and I will continue to do so
There is no other religion except my ticking sounds
My last thought was that an avalanche in northern Europe 
will be replaced by pigeons on eaves of China.
I make an explosion equal to a cough,
I make the bickering politician and the weeping lover have the same ending.
I'm perfect.
Different languages and words ,same birds and city skies are my arrangement.
I created the world and I am greater than the world.
I don't cry , laugh, explain and sigh 
because that's never the core of the matter.
When I stop I can still hold you tightly 
Just like the king is dozing in his palace
in the distance his army is destroying what it can find
 

5  钟表店

性急者以秒针赶路，
悲愤者用心脏叩门。
而有人通晓了辩证法，借助
时针的黑，在暗中移动。
风雨欲来，
总有人在圆心里费力地打滑，
闪着细瘦发亮的长腿。
世界之变，起于四壁，起于大大
小小的漩涡。
金属盘、珐琅壳，筋疲力尽的
发条和电池……
到处都是终点和起点。
刻度内，火焰捧出模糊的脸，
齿轮上，残缺的夙愿布满咬痕，
而有人毕生与钟表为敌，
想把自己从时光中剥离出来。
他正站在停摆的壁钟前，一动不动，
佯装对流逝一无所知


  The Watch Shop

The impatient person travels with the second hand,
The indignant person knocks at the door with his heart.
People who know dialectics use the blackness of the hour hand 
to move in the dark.
When the wind and rain are coming,
There is always someone struggling not to slip in the center of the circle
with its long, thin legs shining
The change of the world starts from the four sides and starts from all the large
or little whirlpools
Metal plate, enamel shell, and exhausted
clockwork and battery...
It can be an end or a beginning in anywhere.
Inside the scale, the flame holds a blurred face,
On the cogs, the broken longing is full of bite marks
The person having been lifelong enemy of clocks and watches,
tries to separate himself from time.
He is standing in front of the stopped clock, motionlessly,
pretending not to know anything about the passing 



6  悬垂

穹顶上垂下一根细丝，底端
吊着一颗肥硕蜘蛛。
细丝几乎看不见，而一颗蜘蛛
出现在那里，正从空间中
采集不为人知之物，并以之
制造出一个便便巨腹。
光影迷离，蜘蛛的长腿抟着空气。一根丝
纤细、透明，绷直于
自身那隐形的力量中，以之维系
一个小世界里正在形成的中心。


Draping

A thin line hangs down from the dome, 
Its end slings a stout spider .
The line is barely visible, and a spider
appears there, 
It is gathering some unknown things in the space 
By those things it creates a huge paunch
The light is blurred and the spider's long legs knead the air.
A piece of thread is slender, transparent, 
It straightens up in its own invisible power
and by this it keeps the forming center in the small world.



7 路
 
它受命成为一条路，受命成为可以踏上去的现实。
它拉紧脊椎扣好肋骨因为人多，车重。
当大家都散了，它留在原地。
在最黑的夜里，它不敲任何人的门。
它是睡眠以外的部分，它是穿越喧嚣的孤寂，
比阶级直，比尘埃低，身上
印满谵妄的脚印。
当它受命去思考，蟋蟀开始歌唱。
它废弃时，万物才真正朝两侧分开，
一半不知所踪；另一半
伴随它的沉默并靠向
时间的尽头。


The Road

It is commanded to be a road
and designated to be a reality that could be stepped on.
It tightens its spine and ties its ribs because of the crowd and the heavy vehicles.
When everyone is gone, it stays where it is.
In the darkest night, it knocks on no one's door.
It's the part outside of sleeping,
and the loneliness of going through a noise 
straighter than classes, lower than dust,
Its body has marked lots of delirious footprints .
When it is told to think, crickets begin to sing.
When it's abandoned,all things really just start to go the left and right sides
Half of them disappear; 
The other half closes to the end of time.
with its silence


8  窗前

当我们在窗前交谈，我们相信，
有些事，只能在我们的交谈外发生。
我们相信，在我们目力不及的地方，
走动着陌生人。他们因为
过着一种我们无法望见的生活而摆脱了
窗口的限制。

当他们回望，我们是一群相框中的人，
而那空空、无人的窗口，
正是耗尽了眺望的窗口。

我们看到，城市的远端，
苍穹和群山拱起的脊背
像一个个问号：过于巨大的答案，
一直无法落进我们的生活中。

当我们在长长的旅行后归来，
嵌入窗口的风景，
再也无法从玻璃中取出。


By the Window

When we talk by the window, we believe
that some things can only happen outside of our conversation.

We believe that in some places we can't see 
there are strangers walking around 
Because they live a life we can't watch
so it gets out of window’s limit.

When they look back, we will become a group of people in frames,
And the empty window, with no people there
is the window that exhausts gazing

We can see, on the far side of the city,
the arched back of the sky and the mountains
is like question marks，and the answer is too huge
to fall into our life. .

When we return from our long journey,
landscapes embedded in the window
can never be removed from the glass frames

学习，精彩！

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