Spring '20 Issue | 2020 春季刊
Geminids
by S. Preston Duncan
Days run together like they're trying
to keep warm
I am the shape of debris
My complexion, of sycamores
Tomorrow the woods
will still smell of smoke
Tonight you will see
stars ending
If you can sit by a fire
and not pay it mind
If you can lay on the earth
and forget what it keeps
S. Preston Duncan is the author of the poetry collection and EP of experimental spoken word music, The Sound in This Time of Being. His work has appeared in Levee Magazine, Circle Show, The New Southern Fugitives, Atlas and Alice and more.
双子座流星雨
翻译：诗验室
日子仿佛要抱团取暖一样
挨着流逝
我是残骸的形状
我的肤色，梧桐的
明天的树林
还将带有烟的味道
今夜你将看到
星辰陨落
如果你可以坐在火旁
而不曾注意它
如果你可以躺在大地上
而忘却它能留住的东西
S. Preston Duncan 曾创作诗集及实验性朗诵音乐专辑《The Sound in This Time of Being》。他曾在《Levee Magazine》、《Circle Show》、《The New Southern Fugitives》及《Atlas and Alice》等平台上发表过作品。
Fish
by S. Preston Duncan
By lunch the landing is cleared
of paleness suspended between trees
like a nap of hammocks.
Silhouettes speak Spanish
on the dock. I catch the word alma while
they are casting out
an osprey breaks water
pulls a rope of wet embers
across the open shout
from above, their skin is a language
of mudsunk colonies.
The surface erupting with voices.
鱼
翻译：诗验室
午间时分平台上已经没了
像小憩的吊床一样
悬在树丛间的苍白
说着西语的人影
在码头。当他们抛竿时
我听到“灵魂”这个词
一只鱼鹰自上而下冲破
开阔而平静的水面
拖起一串湿漉漉的余烬
它们的皮肤是一种
深陷泥潭的殖民地的语言。
表皮迸发着声音。
融合游戏
作者：Crybaby31
他们吼叫着
实现了革命
化成了
一段编号
一串数据
一只海参
一支兴奋剂
……
他们的狂喜
是我们恐惧无望的产物
世界分化了
作为化学物质和数字信号
他们被保留下来
Crybaby31 现居上海。
Fusion Games
translated by PLS
They are roaring
Accomplishing a revolution
Turning into
A snippet of code
A set of data
A sea cucumber
A dose of amphetamine
…
Their ecstasies
Are the result of our hopeless fears
The world becomes divided
As chemicals and digital signals
They are preserved
Crybaby31 currently lives in Shanghai.
mash note
by Bennett Faber
drift dawn
cleaves rose
the bed
widening on
a sag peel
of wall
your body
cotton grey fire
becoming
as light
becomes
space
in my hand
Bennett Faber is a writer from Brooklyn living in Shanghai.
爱的告白
翻译：诗验室
黎明浮动着
劈开玫瑰
床
开始膨胀
在凹陷的
墙皮之上
你的身躯
微黄 火
已就
而光
则渐成
域
在手心
Bennett Faber 是一名来自纽约布鲁克林的撰稿人，现居上海。
不知夜
作者：沈行舟
熟睡城市的金色灯光，散沙一片，
远在尽头的最后一只船舶，喘息再见。
黑纱团簌
恶灵成群
伺机
潜梦
夜的身后，浓重面前，散纱一片。
他的脸庞，坠落之后，失色闪现。
“还以为海面洒满月光，
原来，不过是自己身上的鳞片。”
沈行舟是一名诗人兼艺术家。爱好实验性文字创作，已出版诗集《回》。
Unknown Eve
translated by PLS
The golden light of the slumbering city, scattered sands.
The last skiff at the far end, disappearing with pants.
Black threads clustering
Evils gathering
Biding its time
Sneaking into dreams
Behind the eve, before the thick, scattered threads.
His face, after the fall, glowing with lost radiance.
“I thought the sea was covered with moonlight,
but turns out it’s just the scales of my body.”
Xingzhou Shen is a poet and artist. Her recent publication is 回.
Straw
by Matt Schroeder
& the predictable
broken bones of
it all
never realizing
you’ve been picked
last
or at all
actually
the runt
of the litter
the last of the pack
underweight but
enough to break
something dreamt of
for so long
leaning
now into leaving
you allergy giver
you killer
you
fragile dunce
of a lover
howl at some
other sorrow
some other
sphere
some sad excuse
for something
to give
yet still naïve
enough to think
there is something
better
as if everything
doesn’t circle
& eat its own
tail eventually
or predictably
swallow that
eating grin
you back breaker you
Matt Schroeder is a poet and educator based in China. His poetry can be found in Thin Air Online, Dovecote Magazine and Poetry Lab Shanghai.
稻草
翻译：诗验室
及其
可预见的
断骨
不曾知道
你最终
被选中
还是
实际上
是否被选中
发育不全的
幼仔
一窝中
最后一只
体重不足却
足以毁灭
长久以来
梦寐以求的东西
倚着身
欲离去
你这个过敏原
你这个杀手
你这个
痴情的
小傻瓜
朝着另一些
悲伤
另一个
时空呼喊
编一些难过的借口
想付出些
什么
却依旧
天真地认为
这世间还有
更美好的东西
仿佛万物
不会循环
最终不会咬掉
自己的尾巴
或者不出所料
咽下那张
进食的笑脸
你这根压死骆驼的稻草 你
Matt Schroeder 是一名住在中国的诗人与教育者。他曾在《Thin Air Online》、《Dovecote Magazine》以及《诗验室》发表过作品。
致绍闻
作者：Aiden Heung
恍惚间 是十余年
我们已学会不去追问
为什么 或者 如何。
掌心上 时光的印记
暗淡下来
成为餐后的笑谈；
在唇齿间摇曳的
却不是当初的理想
或是世界美好的愿望
或是竭尽所能的爱与自由，
而是被束缚的人生；
仿佛这个世界
连同这广袤的土地上
滋养起来的思想
也能一分一角地衡量；
然而又能表达什么呢？
无法述说，只能歌颂；
无法去怜悯，只能学会冷漠；
然后呼喊着
挣扎着
继续尝试
这被如此规划的生与死；
闻哥啊，这杯酒，
依旧是苦。
窗外
夜的寂静
交织着
一个夏天的寒。
Aiden Heung 是一名中国诗人。他曾在《Poet Lore》、《茶：亚洲文学期刊》、《声韵诗刊》、《惠灵顿评论》等平台发表过作品。
To Shao Wen
translated by PLS
A decade in a fleeting moment,
we have learned not to ask
why or how.
Stains of time in our palms
have dulled
into after-dinner jokes.
What lingers between lips
is no longer the old ideals