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Winter '20 Issue | 2020 冬季刊

两次河流

作者:帕凡


两次河流交替穿过我

消磨泥沙,升起白雾

或向远处起伏

我常常忽略

它们的有限

和透明

霜露之外来回摇动

蜻蜓的长翼

一边也像另一边

光泽令人困惑

纹路自圆其说——

“两个城市都有河流经过,

奔腾向前绝不回头”

帕凡,翻译,常居福建福州。


Twice Rivers

translated by PLS


Twice rivers have flown through me by turn

abrading sands, ascending mists

or roaming toward distance

I often neglect

their capabilities

and transparencies

swaying back and forth outside frost

Long wings of the dragonfly

one looks just like the other

Its lustre confusing

textures justifiable —

“Through two cities there are rivers

that never look back or turn around.”

Pa Fan is a translator based in Fuzhou of Fujian Province.


 

A Moment of Not Doing

by Alan Wang

I left a single lily on the pedestal off which

you knocked me

and on which I slept

with a single hand, cut off by thinking out loud


The fat lady under the palm tree saw me gawking

at what doesn't belong to me, a page

ripped off from the convention consecrated by vagabonds

and truth peddlers


There I was, swept under my own bantering with old souls

empty buildings and empty cups

The causal exchange of looks hurts me, they dance but they speak nothing

When can we leave for a peephole of sea

To see waves thump other couples' bed

screaming and begging for less

Less looking, less uncertain about how many cubes

should I put in my drinks


The chair that moves, the shoes that fit

I complimented everything so I could hear the music

that they feigned hearing


Men crawling like dogs, planes howling

You think you are depressed no more but you keep being told

who you are, what you should have said

and where you can pace around for not doing


To the point that even clothing shrills

even liars stopped expecting

Alan Wang, editor and translator based in Shanghai.


无为一刻

翻译:阿兰王与诗验室


在你扫落我的尊严之处

我留铃兰一支

我曾在此,因自语受刑

也与断臂长眠

棕榈树下的腴妇看我傻盯着

非我之物,流浪者和真理贩

祝过圣的公约中

被人撕下的一页

彼时,我也曾被自己与老者的打趣感动

空荡的大楼,空荡的茶杯

不经意的目光交流刺痛我,眼神交错起舞

却缄默不语

何时能出发寻觅海的窥孔

偷看海浪冲刷恋人的温床

哭喊着 乞求着 少一点

少看一点,少一点

对酒中冰量的迟疑


我赞扬能动的椅子,合脚的鞋

我赞扬一切,只为听见人们

佯听的音乐


人如狗匐,飞机长嚎

沉郁过后,他们仍在不停告诫

你是谁,你应该说什么

你可以在何处无为踱步


直到穿衣也开始刺耳

说谎的人也不再期盼


阿兰王,现居上海,是一名编辑兼翻译。


 

01

作者:蚩蚩


午夜 世界像蚌一样敞开

捧住一声雷 一颗珍珠未来的倒影

雨 重拾老式的舞步

矮小的阁楼里 淡紫色被豢养

这群以声音为食的动物 正无声狂喜

指尖摩挲一曲春日的奏鸣

为我高雅的囚徒们 献上

一具如霜的宴席

驾驭温暖的刀刃 行驶一艘无目的的船

由低向高的 川流中

一对漩涡般的耳 静候着

渴望自由的动物

盘旋在更高的阁楼里


蚩蚩,CAA雕塑系在读。


01

translated by PLS


At midnight, the world opens up like an oyster

Embracing the sound of a thunder, the future shadow of a pearl

Rain, picking up old style dance steps

Inside a dwarfed attic, lilac is kept and fed

This flock of animals who live on sounds, ecstatic without a sound

Fingertip dancing out a song of spring

For my noble prisoners, preparing

A frostlike feast

A blade that steers warmth, helming a purposeless vessel

From low to high, among the streams

A pair of swirling ears, waiting in silence

Animals longing for freedom

Circling inside a higher attic

Chi Chi is a student at the China Academy of Art.


 

To Tip the Scales

by Matt Schroeder


there’s no silver bullet to stop the beast no proper bill to be taken from your body & given to the offertory no sugar pill to swallow & sweeten the bitterness these days leave all over everything no golden ticket that delivers you to the arms of a magic man with all the answers no program on tv you can switch to bathing yourself in light to make this all go away no water you could wash your filth with to leave you holier than thou no tail to spread & color the day in beauty so that we forget no song or psalm so sweet in the mouth that could command blood to flow in reverse & air to dance backwards into our dead

they’re all our dead


Matt Schroeder is a poet and educator currently living in southern China. His poetry can be found in Thin Air Magazine, The Rush, Dovecote Magazine, The Decadent Review, Fearsome Critters Magazine and more.


让秤失衡

翻译:诗验室

制止兽行没有妙招 你的身上找不到合适的账单用于供奉 没有糖片可吞并用以减轻现今无处不在的痛楚 没有能够将你送往拥有所有答案的魔法师怀里的黄金车票 没有其它可选的电视台 在灯光下清洗自己试图洗去这一切 没有能够把你的污秽洗掉让你变成假圣人的水 没有可以展开和将日子绘成美景以致于让我们遗忘的尾巴 没有在嘴里甜美得足以让鲜血倒流和空气倒退着舞至我们之死的歌声或赞美诗

他们皆为我们之死


Matt Schroeder 是一位居住在中国南部的诗人与教育工作者。他的作品散见于《Thin Air Magazine》、《 The Rush》、《Dovecote Magazine》、《 The Decadent Review》以及《 Fearsome Critters Magazine》等文学期刊。


 

中山路

作者:帕凡


中山路的一边是新的

浮尘在古马球场旁公转

除此之外是热带河流

有人在舟上

与横斜的经线结为兄弟

一些没有倒影的箭头

九十年代的小区草木狭窄

宿醉的天空站在合抱的软肋里

再往外,是凹陷的泥土

头重脚轻的火焰

归人日复一日渐渐透明

最后只能从树上离开

谁先中断背影

谁就一路点亮镜中的照壁


帕凡,翻译,常居福建福州。

Zhongshan Road

translated by PLS


It’s new on one side of Zhongshan Road

Dust revolving around an old polo field

Besides that it’s just tropical streams

Some people on the boat

Swearing to be brothers with slanted longitudinals

There are arrows without a shadow

A neighborhood from the ’90s swamped with grass and trees

Hungover sky standing inside folded weak spot

Beyond that, it’s just sunken mud

Light-headed flames

Returnees turning transparent day after day

In the end have to depart from the trees

He who first severs the silhouette

Lights up the screen in the mirror all the way

Pa Fan is a translator based in Fuzhou of Fujian Province.


 

无题

作者:汤雅萱

无效的沟通

没有回响的惨白


明天,一条红色斑点狗

将走上缄默的传送带

破碎的旗帜和无所适从的

失语的,其他的狗


一个个,托着石头做成的颧骨

看向白沙,看向窗

看向门户,看向心房


“左眼太阳,右眼月亮

肌肤是大地,血液是河流“


好像过了很久

好像还在当下

汤雅萱,出生成长于深圳。


Untitled

translated by PLS


Futile communication

Paleness without an echo


Tomorrow, a red Dalmatian

Shall step on a silent conveyor belt

Ragged flag and other

Disoriented aphasic dogs


One by one, holding their cheekbones of stone

Gazing toward white sand, toward windows

Toward gates, toward atriums


“Left eye becomes the sun, right eye the moon

Skin the earth, blood the rivers.”


As if it’s been a long time

As if it's still the moment


Tang Yaxuan was born and raised in Shenzhen.


 

Night

by Joan McNerney


Slides under door jambs

pouring through windows

painting my room black.


This evening was spent

watching old movies.

Song and dance actors

looping through gay,

improbable plots.

All my plates are put away,

cups hanging on hooks.

The towel is still moist.


I blow out cinnamon candles

wafting the air with spice.

Listening now to heat

sputtering and dogs

barking at winds.


Joan McNerney’s poetry has been included in literary magazines such as Seven Circle Press, Poet Warriors, Bright Hills Press, and Poppy Road Review. Her latest title, The Muse In Miniature, is available on Amazon and Cyberwit.net. She has four Best of the Net nominations.

翻译:诗验室

从门缝滑入

从窗户涌进

将我的屋子染黑。


今夜

我看了老电影。

歌声与舞蹈演员

在愉快又荒谬的剧情中

循环着。


所有的餐盘都已放好,

茶杯悬在挂钩上。

抹布还未干。

肉桂蜡烛的香气在

空气中飘荡着,我吹灭它。

此刻,听着热的嘟哝

和狗对风发出的号叫。


Joan McNerney 曾在《Seven Circle Press》、《Poet Warriors》、《Bright Hills Press》以及《Poppy Road Review》等处发表过诗歌.。她的最近一部诗集《The Muse In Miniature》现于亚马逊平台和Cyberwit.net上有售。她曾获“Best of the Net”四次提名。


 

光秃秃的树

作者:罗冠宇


一般这种树不开花

而我的这棵却在夕阳沉下之后

开出了一朵绿色的唢呐形状的花

预言者说这是回光返照

邻居说唢呐声音太大

已经很久了

灰褐色拥在一起,逐渐变暗

笔直的树梢挂着一片半枯的叶子

和一朵活力四射的绿花

或许它不会停止演奏

但终有一天叶子会落下

我紧锁眉心

停止跳动的粗糙变成窸窣的耳语

灰尘和氧气在周围到处结痂

这种预兆将被砍掉

斧头拿来了

银灰色啮齿动物

与人群失去色差

洞穴般的城市

忍受着重负上点燃的烟花

我用唢呐呼吸浓稠的空气

礼花绽放,犹如宣言摊开胸前

这棵枯树被砍下

绿色的幽灵诞生

这座房子将缄口不言

罗冠宇是一名诗人兼自由职业者,现工作生活于北京。


A Stark Tree

translated by PLS


Generally this kind of tree doesn’t bloom

But this one of mine after the sunset

Bloomed a green Suona-shaped flower

The prophet said this is the last radiance of the setting sun

The neighbor said the “Suona” is too loud


It had been a long time

Taupe huddled together and gradually darkened

A half dead leaf and a vibrant green flower

Hanging over the standing treetop

Perhaps it would't stop playing

But one day the leaves would fall


I scowled

The coarseness that stopped beating turned into a rustling whisper

Dust and oxygen scabbed everywhere

This omen would be cut off


So here came the axe