Summer '20 Issue | 2020 夏季刊
rimu road
by Lily Holloway
those fish in the stream by the coastlands laundromat
are sleek bodies swept grass-like
they run under the subway in the mall
flicker sunwards
billboards with the flesh pushed or
out-slotted roadside onlook
a market in the paddock two months ago
politicians under bracken
cows huddled in a mass of five
there’s a goldfinch perched on the thistle
raspberry and slinking grass pressing
up against the paddock fence
and it bulges
and in the shed over the fence
jointed grass knocks out at the windows from the inside
splayed like fingers
knocking in nighttime wind
and it bulges
wild hawkweed disembowels one of those green electric boxes
I had a dream that gorse was something different
Lily Holloway is a 21 year-old English and Ancient History student at the University of Auckland in Aotearoa. Her work has been published in Mayhem, The Three Lamps, and The Spinoff among other literary places. This year she has received the Shimon Weinroth Prize in Poetry, the Kendrick Smithyman Scholarship for Poetry and second place in the Charles Brasch Young Writers’ Essay Competition.
芮木路
翻译：诗验室
那些沿海洗衣房旁小溪里的鱼儿
是草一样挥舞的优美姿态
他们在商场的地铁下方奔跑
沿着太阳的方向摇曳着
被抽空肉体的广告牌或
错位的路边目击者
围场里两个月前的集市
欧洲蕨下的政治家们
五头蜷成一团的奶牛
一只金翅雀在蓟草上方栖息
树莓和若隐若现的杂草
挤压着围场的篱笆
它膨胀着
在旁边的库房内
具节山羊草从里面压向窗户
像手指一样伸展着
敲击着夜晚的风
它膨胀着
野山柳菊灌满整个绿色电箱
我曾做梦以为荆豆是别的东西
Lily Holloway 现就读于新西兰奥克兰大学英文与古代史专业。她的作品曾发表于《Mayhem》、《The Three Lamps》与《The Spinoff》等处。今年，她已获得“Shimon Weinroth Prize诗歌奖”，“Kendrick Smithyman诗歌奖学金”以及“Charles Brasch青年作家散文大赛“第二名。
噢，我还能歌唱吗
作者：黄圣
噢，我还能歌唱吗
咽喉里一块金色的肉
热的锻造，数亿次歌唱
夜莺卡在空调里
蜡的、匀质的街上
昨天的店铺被明天易主
今天全部打烊
新兴的、吃炸鸡那条街上
人都肿胀了，很轻
拖着长长的影子像涂油
年迈的树在示众
伤口被刷绿
时代，抛上一层
借来的、非自我之光
话术追着我们
一种反复在压垮我们
舌头爆破。汞柱碎裂
亡灵都是温热的、喝不下的
恶脱口而出
手比划着失去，爱很褴褛
黄圣，在上海经营一家诗歌书店。
O, can I still sing
translated by PLS
O, can I still sing
a golden lump in the throat
forging of the heat, a song sung a billion times
nightingale stuck in the air conditioner
On the street waxed and homogeneous
yesterday’s shops replaced by tomorrow’s
everything is closed today
Over the new street where they sell fried chicken
people swelling, weightless
dragging their elongated shadows, as if anointing
Aged trees are demonstrating
wounds are polished green
time, burnishing with
borrowed, non-self light
Wordplay chases after us
but we are crushed by a repetition
exploded tongue. broken mercury
Specters are warm, undrinkable
evil slipped out of the mouth
hands gesturing about loss, ragged love
Huang Sheng runs a poetry book store in Shanghai.
Commuter
by L Kiew
Traffic mills into a single roar,
steel-blue staining the ears.
Pause, before
descending the cataract
into the Underground.
The human swarm takes you
with its undertow
as treacherous
as adders mating
in a tight tunnel.
It swerves,
eddies and rushes,
pushing until you
are expelled
new and green.
Inhale
stillness through your skin
like an amphibian
returned to its natal pond.
L Kiew is a Chinese-Malaysian living in London. Her debut pamphlet The Unquiet came out with Offord Road Books in February 2019. She is currently a participant in the London Library Emerging Writers Programme.
通勤者
翻译：诗验室
车流碾成一声咆哮，
钢青玷污着耳朵。
在涌入地铁
之前
暂停一下。
人群拖着你
用蝰蛇交配时
背叛的意志
将你卷入
狭小的隧道
它扭转着
环绕和移动着
直到你被
吐出，变得
新而绿
用皮肤
呼吸静止
像一只两栖动物
回到它出生的池塘。
L Kiew 是华裔马来西亚人，现居伦敦。她于2019年2月通过Offord Road Books出版第一部诗集《The Unquiet》，现为"伦敦图书馆新兴作家计划"的一名驻地诗人。
TEA FLAG, PRAYER MOON
by Adrian Lurssen
history’s
porcelain arc
blued against
white
heron bamboo
fisherman pot
true
not true
leaf and
spring
water a gram-
mar’s ebbing heat
if steep is to
cup
as sip is to
shall I
be then morning
for Norma Cole
Born and raised in South Africa, Adrian Lurssen lives in the San Francisco Bay Area. His poetry has been published in WITNESS Magazine, Fence, Phoebe, Word for/Word, Indiana Review, Posit Journal, and places elsewhere.
茶旗，祷月
翻译：诗验室
历史之
瓷弧
变蓝
白
鹭竹
渔人壶
真
非真
叶与
泉
水一个语
法退却的热
倘若浸泡是为了
拔起
犹如啜饮
那么我可否
就是清晨
致 Norma Cole
Adrian Lurssen 生长于南非，现居住在旧金山湾区。他的诗歌曾发表在《WITNESS Magazine》、《Fence》、《Phoebe》、《Word for/Word》、《Indiana Review》、《Posit Journal》等处。
THE BIRDS IN THE CIRCUIT TREES
by Adrian Lurssen
Words are made of electrons it turns out
- Michael Palmer
living in the subjunctive, social
all the virgin eyes of the world
are made of glass
and the glass
surface of the lake
a feedback loop
the subject arrives after
you’ve tried to imitate
the bird in its place
a made place
created by light
must she follow
the if-then into
ether singing
we have shapes
but no power
singing a share
is a part song
will outlive
an arms race
as if you were real
a just arrangement
your attention and time as if
from each grain of sand
a bird shall be born as if
a letter grew a pair of wings
until reader (who’s one
and who’s nothing)
reader arrives
completes the circuit
电路树中的鸟
翻译：诗验室
词语原来是由电子组成。
—米歇尔·帕尔默
在虚拟语气中生活，社交
这世间所有的处女眼
都由玻璃制成
而玻璃却由
湖面制成
一个反馈回路
在到达主题前
你试图模仿
在自己地盘上的鸟
这个地盘由光线
打造而成
她是否一定得追随
条件语句到
苍穹高唱
我们有形状
但没有力量
高唱一份
就是一部分歌曲
将比拉锯战
更持久
仿佛你是真实的
一个合理的安排
你的注意力与时间仿佛
来自每一粒沙
一只鸟将要诞生仿佛
一封信可以生出一对翅膀
直到读者（有人是
有人啥也不是）
读者已至
接通电路
Cold Eel
by Hadley-James Hoyles
After the hubbub
And the crassness of the active battle
You slither out, basking in the tension
Left in the murk after a rip-roarer
Of a show. You settle
Your flimsy layers
And your granite guts
As the sediment returns
To its grounding point, goaded no more.
Algae, food.
Mollusc, food.
Hibiscus, food.
Finger, food, you
Build all your life with no
Concern from whence it came.
You break apart bone, ligament, ex-
Cruciating tendon, as if it were
A delight to your fussless stomach.
Nightlife comes to your dark-already door
Niggling away at the peace of your churning.
You slide out, and politely tell it
“The same as last night, I haven’t
The time or the inclination-
My heart was never in it.” Your
Faceless grin looks eerie