現(xiàn)代詩五首（漢譯英）
作者：齊鳳艷
翻譯：齊鳳艷
每一個(gè)人心底都有一個(gè)故事
他在月下磨刀
畜草磊滿牲口棚厅须，谷穗
聚在谷倉
雙臂伸縮時(shí)
屋里和棚里的呼吸
更有節(jié)奏了
星星生起倦意
他眼力复罐、手力都在
那摩擦上在辆，石頭
一來一回吐出苦味
為刃助威砾赔，為他助力
而他這幾日總是回想
她的柔軟试浙，一次邂逅
就能成為一場病
離別就不再相遇是
不是最好
忽地他想收割
夜色
而鐮刀卻成了那天上的月
柔軟地彎著
Everyone has a story buried in his heart.
He sharpens his sickle under the moon.
Cattle grass piled up in the stable,
Ears of grain in the barn.
His arms go to and fro,
The breathing inside the room and inside the stable
Becomes more rhythmic,
Stars are tired.
He has his eyes and hands focused
On the grinding, with the scythe coming and going,
The stone spits out bitter,
Cheering for the blade and him.
These days he always thinks about
Her softness, an encounter
Can be a disease.
Isn’t it much better two people no longer meet
After bidding farewell?
Suddenly he wants to harvest
The dim light of the night,
The sickle becomes the moon,
Soft and curving.
挎著柳筐的老頭兒
他先拿出旱煙
慢慢地卷
樹上的松針借著陽光伸長了一點(diǎn)
地上鳥鳴的影子向東傾斜
他左手倚著柳條筐梁
如這兩三年他對往事的依靠
它們和風(fēng)一起扶住
他的殘年
迎著它們佳恬，他才覺得自己還硬朗
就像那扭在一起的柳條
曾經(jīng)他用春柳比喻他的新婚妻子
搖曳的身姿徒役，搖曳的笑
搖曳的手臂
他的語言是單一的
就像他的思念
整天緊緊地挎著他女人編的柳筐
想著還攥著她的手
The old man with a wicker basket
First he takes out his dry tobacco,
Rolling slowly.
The pine needles stretch a bit in the sunlight,
The shadows of birds singing on the ground tilt to the east,
He leans his left hand on the wicker beam
Such as his dependence in recent years on the past,
Which with the wind holds up
His days left,
And with them, he feels as strong
As the wicker twisted together.
He once used the spring willow as a metaphor for his new wife.
Swaying posture, swaying smile,
Swaying arms.
His words are simple,
So his way to cherish his wife,
All day long he holds tightly the wicker basket made by her,
As if still holding her hand.
在鄉(xiāng)村小站
李花獨(dú)占鄉(xiāng)村小站的孤獨(dú)
我剛想挪步走入
枝丫濾過一對年輕人的低語
將這片林木帶回人間
沒有站牌
似乎可以忘記身處何處
若非在等待
似乎可以忘記歲月
只是一個(gè)小樹樁黢黑的年輪
令人哀婉這早夭之物
曝露的憂傷孽尽，我俯身拾幾瓣月白
點(diǎn)綴其上
一陣鈴響閃著銀光
小狗與我對視幾秒后
走向一條岔路
它路過我的人生
遠(yuǎn)去時(shí)，是否已兩兩相忘
如我和這小站
我低頭上車
女孩的鞋邊上有一絲草痕
At a bus stop in the country
At a bus stop in the country, plum tree flowers have to themselves
All the solitude in which I want to step.
The whispers of a young couple come through branches,
Bringing the wood back to man’s world.
No stop board,
It seems I can forget where I am.
If not waiting,
I shall have forgotten the time.
A little tree’s stump and its black growth rings.
It is a sad thing to die young.
Exposed sorrow. I bend to pick up a few white petals
And spread on it for ornament.
The tinkle of a bell glitters like silver,
The dog and I look at each other for a few seconds
Before it running in another direction.
Entering my life once
When it is far away, whether will we forget mutually?
How about this country bus stop and me?
I bow my head and get in.
There is a trace of grass on the edge of the girl’s shoes.
冬至
在這個(gè)季節(jié)
他把目光送給枯枝
傍晚它們燒紅它的胸腔時(shí)
他就把自己交給酒
如黑熊在樹洞里
用舌頭溫暖花朵
微醉時(shí)忧勿，他幻想自己是冷杉
在三千米高的陰坡
由雪錘煉品格
如果伊此時(shí)端來燒鵝
他就會(huì)生出羽翼
生出脾氣
把窗外的狂嚎窒息在利爪
可伊遞給他的總是一卷旱煙
他看著火星明滅
伊看著他杉女，從肋骨里
取出一朵玉蘭：
夜晚瞻讽，適合戀愛
On the Winter Solstice Day
In this season
He gives his eyes to dead branches.
In the evening when they burn his chest,
He gives himself to the wine,
Like a black bear in the hollow of a tree
Warming flowers with his tongue.
Slightly drunk, he fancies himself as a fir
Standing on a north slope 3,000-meter high,
Tempered by snow.
If his wife brings a dish of fried goose,
Wings will grow out of his body,
His temper will get bigger,
And he will chock the howling outside the window in his claws.
While what she hands to him is always a roll of dry tobacco.
He looks at the sparks twinkling,
She looks at him and through her ribs
Takes out a magnolia:
Night is for love.
夜色降臨
燕子飛回窩了
它告別風(fēng)聲
夜色開始加速西移
神秘的翅膀
時(shí)而傾斜，時(shí)而變形
我在尋找你或者你的影子
那么多的不確定
我需要得到足夠的墨
才能辨別一朵花和它的香氣
哪個(gè)更真實(shí)
鳥窩和它之外熏挎，再無世界
我目光的觸腳
攫取到一張臉和濕漉漉的枝頭
The night has fallen
Swallows fly back to nests
Bidding farewell to the wind.
The night begins to accelerate westward.
Mysterious wings,
Now leaning, then transforming.
I’m looking for you or your shadow.
So much uncertainty.
I need to get ink enough
To distinguish a flower and its fragrance.
Which is truer?
A nest or outside a nest, there is no other world.
The tentacles of my eye
Grab a face and many wet branches.
