Winter '22 Issue | 2022 冬季刊

Clouds

by Barbara Southard

Tangled shreds

thin veils

fishbones

each a small

catastrophe

that dies

before our eyes

replaced

with ragged plumes

arch and anvil

their changing ways

skimming through air

in vaporous trails.

Birds gather

in a moving dazzle

in their depths

of heaps and layers

erasing, rewriting

new patterns

on the blank canvas

of blue skies.

Barbara Southard served as Poet Laureate of Suffolk County, New York from 2019-2021. She is continuing to work with the Long Island Poetry Collective to provide Zoom workshops for poets nationally and internationally.

云

翻译：诗验室

扭成一处的细条

轻薄的面纱

鱼骨

每条都是一场

在我们的双目

被破碎的

羽毛

取代前

死去的

小灾难

拱门与铁砧

它们变换的姿势

掠过空气

留下雾状的痕迹。

鸟儿们聚集

在移动的炫光中

在他们堆叠

的深处

抹去、重写

新图案

在蓝天

空白的画布上

Barbara Southard 曾是2019 - 2021年纽约萨福克郡的桂冠诗人。她如今仍与长岛诗人们合作，为海内外诗人提供线上诗歌工作坊。

---

神聖舞蹈

作者：王圣元

葛吉夫*在第四條道路上

走了百年

（無涉第一、第二與第三

眾生，都有自己的門道）

神聖的舞蹈，整合

虛實，三二歸一

頭、手和腳，是不同的路徑

又是相同的路人

（形影不離，一同走路

一同回家）

神聖舞蹈，像你可以

右手寫詩，左手寫散文

現今的能人異士

右腳寫小說、左腳寫評論

口裡含徽墨，渲染眾人

統合身心的舞，任何一支

都能悟道

任何一手、一腳，鑽木

必能取火，火將燃燒

槁木死灰的眾魂

*葛吉夫（1866~1949），俄國神祕主義者。

王圣元，1991年生，现为小学教师，曾获后山文学奖。

sacred dances

translated by PLS

Gurdjieff* on his Fourth Way

walking for a hundred years

(irrelevant to the first, second and third

all human beings, have their own methods)

sacred dances, wedding

reality and virtuality, three reduces to two and two to one

head, hands and feet, are different paths

but the same passengers

（inseparable, walking together

returning home together）

sacred dances, like you can

write poems with the right hand, essays with the other

the modern talents

writing novels with the right foot, and criticisms with the other

light ink in their mouths, dramatising everyone

the dances that unite the body and mind, each one

knows how to enlighten

any gesture, with hand or leg, drilling the wood

will certainly lead to a fire, it will burn

the ashen souls of dry trunks

*Gurdjieff (1866~1949), American philosopher and mystic.

Wang Shengyuan, born in 1991, currently a primary school teacher, has won the Houshan Literature Award.

---

Pigeon Obsession

by Cynthia Chen

A pigeon died outside of my window on a Saturday morning, or a Friday night, or a Thursday. I am not sure. It leaned against a tree until someone noticed it and shoveled it away. There was too much tranquility in its moment of death. The stillness still disturbs me.

Mom once said I had an addictive personality, not in a medical way, but that I’m easily obsessed with things. I started to cease the denial when I found myself writing about pigeons on every page, lingering on the trembles that arose from staring at them while realizing how a dead bird can be more alive than a breathing man.

There was once this woman whom I firmly believed to be a pigeon in her previous life. She was kneeling by the curb eating rice with her bare hands from a stacked paper plate. I felt the hunger demanding and time diminishing into a miniature under inspection.

There are things that resemble eternity, like doing laundry, like waiting to be seated on a Saturday night in manhattan, like mourning or loving, like forgetting, or remembering. Her hands felt like eternity to me, and I thought the world was lacking the exact kind of rawness she held.

People love sharing their darkest secrets at parties. They spilled childhood traumas, abusive partners, and weird places that they have had sex at with strangers. So when I shared that I once dreamed of voluntarily being eaten by a starving pigeon and masturbated inside the warm, dying body, the room went dead silent, but I’ve never felt more alive than in that moment of speechlessness.

Cynthia Chen is a senior at NYU Tisch School of the Arts. Her works can be found in West 10th journal and the Quirk magazine.

鸽子情结

翻译：诗验室

一只鸽子死在了我的窗外，周六早上或周五晚上，抑或是一个星期四。我已经记不清了。它靠在一棵树上直到有人发现并将其铲走。它的死亡过于平静。那种安详至今仍令我不安。

妈妈曾经说过我有着一种成瘾人格，当然不是生理上的问题，但我确实很容易迷恋某些东西。在发现自己除了鸽子外什么也不写时我就开始不否认了，脑海里回荡着盯着鸽子看时身体发出的颤抖，我意识到一只死鸟可以比呼吸的活人更有生命力。

曾经有一次我坚信有个女人的前世就是一只鸽子。她蹲在路旁用裸露的双手从一堆纸盘里捡米吃。我感觉到无法满足的饥饿与在审视下消失成缩影的时间。

有些事情仿佛就是永恒，比如洗衣服，比如想在一个周六晚上在曼哈顿找个地方坐下来，比如哀悼或爱，比如忘却，比如惦记。她的手给我的感觉就像不朽，我觉得这个世界缺少她手中所握住的那种清纯。

人们喜欢在派对上分享见不得人的秘密。他们诉说着童年的阴影、暴力的伴侣以及他们曾与陌生人做爱的奇葩场所。所以当我提到我曾经梦到自己心甘情愿被一只饥饿的鸽子吃掉并在温暖地死去的身体内手淫时，整个房间一片死寂，但在那个无语的瞬间我却感受到了前所未有的活力。

陈朗月，纽约大学帝势艺术学院大四学生，其作品散见于《West 10th》文学期刊与《Quirk》杂志等。

---

在澎湖钓小章鱼

作者：程予

我解下你的表带，一颗

那么亮的蛹；像你对我说话

随着汽车穿越山底隧道

一段一段放凉；在

松树气味的路，情感的吸烟房

吞云吐雾的魔鬼的影子

虚构这一幕可以藏身的暗场

让人想起云朵摇摇

雨季里迁移不定的内陆海

海湾里甜蜜的鹅毛和打字机

或许在黑暗里敬礼

那是我们共同的猫咪

所以仍然无法标记位置

所有在这场玩笑中

倒退回去的沙子

相信祖国，相信爱情

相信以后我能照顾好你

和电视里明日渔汛

为什么再一次

将历史比喻成照做

照做这一件危险的事

历经多遍便就是这个场景

你有你妥善的品德

我有网，我没有节制的山林

及其及其

程予，文学系毕业生，现居杭州。

fishing for baby octopuses in the pescadores islands

translated by PLS

I untie your watch strap, so bright

a chrysalis, like you talking to me

as the car races through the tunnel beneath the mountain

cooling down section by section, on

the road shrouded in the smell of pines, the smoking room of emotions

the shadow of a smoking demon

to invent this scenario of a hidden plot that allows one to hide

reminds one of the swaying clouds

the landlocked sea that keeps migrating during rainy seasons

sweet goose feathers and the typewriter at the bay

perhaps saluting in the dark

that’s our mutual kitten

so we still cannot label the position

all of the sands receded

in this joke

have faith in the motherland, and have faith in love

believe me that I can take good care of you in the future

and in the fishing news tomorrow on TV

why once again

compare the history with being compliant

this happens when a dangerous thing

such as following orders is repeated too many times

you’ve got your proper virtues

I have a net, my unrestrained mountain forests

etcetera etcetera

Cheng Yu, a literature graduate currently living in Hangzhou.

---

Transformation

by Shawntaye M. Scott

Scintillating drills

reemerge haunted

unwell souls.

Progress happens

everyone’s dismayed

neurons frayed

from distress.

Foundation shook

liquid sanity

into concrete

awaiting Gaia

resetting zones

fortifying depth

quelling frenzy

modern insolence

spiralling towards

a

quiet

rebirth.

Shawntaye M. Scott is a Shanghai-based creative writer. She has previously been published in A Shanghai Poetry Zine, The Great Human Connection and Tiny Seed Journal.

改头换面

翻译：诗验室

摇晃的钻击

重又出现忧心忡忡

不适的心。

进度会有的

每个人都很惊慌

神经细胞被

痛苦磨损。

粉底将液状的

清醒甩

成混凝土

等待盖亚

重设秩序

加强深度

平息混乱

现代版无礼

往上旋向

一个

宁静的

重生。

Shawntaye M. Scott 是一位居住在上海的创意写作者，其作品散见于《Beijing Underground》、《The Great Human Connection》、《Tiny Seed Journal》等处。

---

爱情里没有什么可写

作者：铲子

要去写好奇 奉献 和羞耻心

还是写夏天的傍晚

怎么也走不完的路

我左耳与你右耳中的夜曲

消失于被蝉鸣催眠得

纹丝不动的月光

写怎么也摸不到的发丝

紧张的汗水也

分不开的手

写此时

站在公寓楼前，巨人模样

却仍想像曾经一样

从十三楼的窗户挤入

你的房间

挤坏了墙上的时针，冰箱的把手，吉他的E弦

空空如也的书架，猫

我的皮肤、血肉一粒粒交换着

叫嚷着

突然水开了，又停了。

写映在窗上的我的影子已经对你的影子说出了

爱情中的一切秘密

而我们却还在各自思考

桌上的最后一杯咖啡

末班火车，刮胡刀

和被车灯点燃的黑夜

“我已经正常了”，你说

“等一等。” 我却还是

要穿上鞋才能飞走

铲子，沟通者。一半生活在解谜，一半生活在梦里的人。

there is nothing to write about in a romantic relationship

translated by PLS

need to write about curiosity devotion and sense of shame

or the dusk of a summer

the never-ending road

the lullaby in my left ear and your right ear

waning in the still moonlight

hypnotised by the chants of cicadas

write about the intangible hair

hands that won’t part even

when soaked with nervous sweat

write about right now

standing in front of the apartment building, giant-like

yet still wishing to squeeze into your room

through the thirteenth floor window

breaking the clock on the wall, handle of the fridge, E string of the guitar

empty bookshelf, cat

my skin, blood and flesh exchanging in grains

shrieking

all of a sudden the water’s boiled, and stopped again.

about my shadow imprinted on the window having already told your shadow about

every little secret in a romantic relationship

yet we are still contemplating on our own on

the last coffee on the table

the last train, razor

and the night lit by vehicles

“I am already back to normal,” you said

“hold on.” I still need to

wear shoes in order to fly away

Spades is a bit too obsessed with puzzles and dreams.

---

Electric Blue

in the years of Covid

by Barbara Southard

There are mornings when blue takes over,

as if nothing else exists but a divine sense

of place on this spinning globe,

then vaporizes into the faint filigree of dawn

when the cat purrs you into wakefulness.

You put the kettle on, grind coffee beans

in a silent house, a chorus of birds

now singing in hazed light, smell

of almost-rain seeping in under the door.

Outside, the world holds menace,

a contagion that comes and goes

of its own choosing. We venture out,

scurry back to the safety of home

where we can look out the window, watch

a bee burrow in the center of a flower,

soft dewed petals enclosing her

like an infant cradled in the arms of its mother.

电蓝

写于新冠疫情期间

翻译：诗验室

有些清晨会被蓝色主宰

仿佛在这个旋转的地球上

除了地方的神圣感以外别无他物，

然后蒸发至黎明模糊的精致中

猫用咕噜声将你唤醒

你把水壶接上，研磨咖啡豆

在安静的房子里，一群鸟儿

在朦胧的光中歌唱，接近

下雨的味道从门下的缝渗入。

外面，世界危机重重，

一种来去自如的

传染病。我们冒着险出去，

疾步跑回家的安全港湾

那里我们可以望着窗外，看

一只蜜蜂将头埋入一朵花的腹部，

沾着微露的花瓣将其紧紧裹住

如一个在母亲的怀抱中熟睡的婴孩

---

The Nymph’s Reply to the Shepherd

by Sir Walter Raleigh

If all the world and love were young,

And truth in every Shepherd’s tongue,

These pretty pleasures might me move,

To live with thee, and be thy love.

Time drives the flocks from field to fold,

When Rivers rage and Rocks grow cold,

And Philomel becometh dumb,

The rest complains of cares to come.

The flowers do fade, and wanton fields,

To wayward winter reckoning yields,

A honey tongue, a heart of gall,

Is fancy’s spring, but sorrow’s fall.

Thy gowns, thy shoes, thy beds of Roses,

Thy cap, thy kirtle, and thy posies

Soon break, soon wither, soon forgotten:

In folly ripe, in reason rotten.

Thy belt of straw and Ivy buds,

The Coral clasps and amber studs,

All these in me no means can move

To come to thee and be thy love.

But could youth last, and love still breed,

Had joys no date, nor age no need,

Then these delights my mind might move

To live with thee, and be thy love.

Sir Walter Raleigh born in 1552, was an English statesman, soldier, writer and explorer.

林中仙女答牧羊人

翻译：谢雪茹

若世界与爱情皆能永葆青春

牧羊人口中所述句句如实

这些乐事或可使我动心

诱我走入你的生活，成为你的爱人

可当河流泛滥，岩石嶙峋

暮光将羊群从田野逐向羊栏

夜莺也停止了嘤啼

大地幽怨着未来

百花凋残，那芳草萋萋的原野

也被残暴的冬天蹂躏得一片荒芜

口中的甜言蜜语，胸中的恶毒阴险

恰如那春的美奂，秋的悲凉

你的华服，秀履，以及你那玫瑰花床

你的美冠，绿裳，以及你那精致花束

倏忽即破，倏忽即枯，倏忽即被遗忘

即便是在痴念中丰硕，也将在理智中腐烂。

你许的麦草与常春藤织成的腰带，

你许的珊瑚的襻扣，琥珀的饰纽，

恐难使我动心

诱我走向你，成为你的爱人

但若青春不朽，爱能长久

若欢愉无穷，时光无尽

这些乐事或可让我动心

诱我走入你的生活，成为你的爱人。

沃尔特·雷利爵士，生于1552年，为英国伊丽莎白时期著名的冒险家，同时也是位作家、诗人、军人、政治家。

谢雪茹，华中农业大学英语语言文学研究生在读。研究方向为残障研究与英美文学研究。

---

光以一定角度倾斜

作者：萧祖弸

一定在冬天的下午

大教堂的曲调拖得又酸又长

重述那圣子的往事

除了心灵的伤痕

我们并未对上帝有所怀疑

经书的封条锁住不可名状的绝望

空气中弥漫着呼吸的压抑

诗人凝视内心的来回

在阴影中潜藏

因为光，以一定角度倾斜

萧祖弸，现居广州。

light slants at an angle

translated by PLS

it must have been a wintry afternoon

the singing in the church dragged bitterly

retelling the past of the son of God

except heartbreaks

we haven’t had doubts about God

the seals on the Bible locking inexplicable despair

the air strewn with stress from breathing

the poet gazing at the churning of the heart

ambushing in the shadow

because light, slants at an angle

Xiao Zupeng, currently living in Guangzhou.

---

Sea Sense

by Declan Geraghty

The corroded

abandoned trucks

stood up like sentries

and I was sure I could hear the birds

and the waves

and I promised myself

that after the next hill

that the sea would await me

and it wasn’t black like it was last time I saw it

that it was a sea that sparkled

and made soft noises

of soft waves

of welcoming oceans

I wouldn’t be only half sure

about the sounds of birds any more

I’d be positive

because I’d see them

with my own eyes

dipping and swooping about the soft sounding waves.

Declan Geraghty is a writer and poet from Dublin. He has had poetry published in The Brown Envelope Collection and Cry of The Poor.

海感

翻译：诗验室

锈迹斑斑

且被遗弃的卡车

像哨兵一样立在那里

我确定我可以听到鸟声

和海浪

然后我对自己起誓

在下一道山坡过后

大海会在等我

它不会像我上次看见时那般黑

它会是闪烁着光亮的海

会发出轻柔的声音

源自舒缓之浪

与热情好客的海洋

我不会再对鸟声

仅仅半信半疑

我会信心十足

因为我会亲眼

看见他们

在温柔低语的海浪边上下窜动

Declan Geraghty 是来自都柏林的撰稿人与诗人。其诗歌作品曾被《The Brown Envelope》合辑与《Cry of The Poor》诗歌合辑收录。

Cover Image copyright © 离耳