《Thirteen Leaves》英文翻译诗集在美出版暨后记

《Thirteen Leaves》

[原文来自：www.11jj.com]

英文翻译诗集在美正式出版

作者：Joan Xie （谢炯） and Sam Perkins

内容：十三位中国诗人的英文翻译短诗98首 

出版社：Three Owls Press, New York, NY

版本：英文纸版，Kindle 英文电子版

定价：$25 纸版，$2.99 Kindle 电子版，购买纸版可免费下载电子版

购买渠道：海外读者，请直接上全球亚马逊购买www.amazon.com, 在查询处输入Thirteen Leaves by Joan Xie或点击文末“阅读原文”进入购买。国内读者，作者稍后将在其私人微信订阅号“半世纪的旅途”公布购买方式。

两种谬误

文| 陈先发

停电了。我在黑暗中摸索晚餐剩下的

半个桔子

我需要她的酸味，

唤醒埋在体内的另一口深井。

这笨拙的情形，类似

我曾亲手绘制的一幅画：

一个盲人在草丛扑蝶

 

盲人们坚信蝴蝶的存在，

而诗人宁可相信它是虚无的。

我无法在这样的分岐中

完成一幅画。

停电正如上帝的天赋已从我的身上撤走

枯干的桔子

在不知名的某处，正裂成两半

 

在黑暗的房间我们继续相爱，喘息，老去。

另一个我们在草丛扑蝶。

盲人一会儿抓到

枯叶

一会儿抓到姑娘涣散的裙子。

这并非蝶舞翩翩的问题

而是酸味尽失的答案。

难道这也是全部的答案么？

假设我们真的占有一口深井像

一幅画的谬误

在那里高高挂着。

我知道在此刻，即便电灯亮起，房间美如白昼

那失踪的半个桔子也永不再回来。

Two Kinds of Fallacies

Blackout. I fumble in the dark for what’s left of dinner

Half an orange.

I need her sourness

to awaken another deep well within my body.

The clumsy scenario is akin to a picture I draw:

A blind man in the grass chasing butterflies.

Blind men believe in the existence of butterflies

while poets would rather trust their absence.

In such conflict, I can’t finish a painting.

The blackout is like God’s gift of inspiration drawn from me.

A withered orange in an unknown place,

split in half.

In the dark room, we keep making love, sigh and grow old

but in the grass, we chase butterflies.

One moment, the blind man catches the withered leaves,

the next moment, he catches a girl’s fluttering skirt.

This is not about how butterflies dance

but rather an answer to where the sourness was lost.

Could it be the complete answer?

Suppose we really do possess a deep well, just as we possess

the fallacy of a painting hanging high on the wall.

I know that at this moment, even if the lights were lit

and the room were as beautiful as the day,

the missing half of the orange would remain lost.

嘉峪关外

文|胡弦

我知道风能做什么，我知道己所不能。

我知道风吹动时，比水、星辰，更为神秘。

我知道正有人从风中消失，带着喊叫、翅、饱含热力的骨骼。

多少光线已被烧掉，我知道它们，也知道

人与兽，甚至人性，都有同一个源泉的夜晚。

我的知道也许微不足道。我知道的寒冷也许微不足道。

在风的国度，戈壁的国度，命运的榔头是盲目的，这些石头

不祈祷，只沉默，身上遍布痛苦的凹坑。

-----许多年了，我仍是这样一个过客：

比起完整的东西，我更相信碎片。怀揣

一颗反复出发的心，我敲过所有事物的门。

 

Outside Jiayu Pass

I know what the wind can do that I cannot.

I know when the wind blows,

more mysterious than water and stars.

I know who is vanishing in the wind with his yell, his wings

and burning bones.

How much light is burned out? I know.

And I also know that humans and animals,

even human natures share a single source of night.

My knowledge might be slim and my awareness of cold

might be slight.

In the kingdom of wind and the Gobi, destiny’s hammer is blind.

These stones don’t pray, remain silent, covered by dents of pain

— for years, I am just a passerby:

I believe in fragments more than the whole.

With a traveler’s heart

I have knocked at the door of all things.