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艺术与文化

[重庆]蒋宜茂 诗五首【中英对照,伍敏毓 译】

野鬼DIABLO 国际诗歌翻译研究中心 2023-10-04



[重庆]蒋宜茂

时光不语(组诗)

   

夕阳从容返乡,

洗尘歇息,

弦月居家轮休。

星辰微眯眼睛,

夜穿上了黑色睡袍。


风漫步林间,

雨栖居云层度假,

雷电伺机隐身。

车憩站台,船泊码头,

江河矢志与大海相拥。


飞禽归途穿破雾霭,

时光俯仰检视众生,

缄默不语。

澄澈睿智的眼睛,

剪辑储存属于自己的画面。



成色


久居闹市,

对黄昏已不太在意。

明亮的华灯驮起

深陷的黑夜。


一排排金黄的银杏树,

与飘落的黄昏重叠。

寒风轻抚蹲守枝丫的叶片,

呢喃着返青的密码。

我在树下侧耳倾听,

踏上暮雪里的班列。


我们沉淀的过往

不比一树的叶子少,

故事绽放的成色,

却逊于满树金黄。



怀疑自己的年轮


槐树秃顶,雨雪霏霏,

暮春落红,劳燕分飞。

我看到自己的年轮

已画到甲子圈。


对镜凝视

两颊竟泛红晕

忘却酒精的助威,

或是血压失衡,

陪小孙子嬉戏扮猴脸。


夜深人静,

捧着猩红的心独自翻检。

常有诗句光临,

彼此深情相拥,

怡然看见

自己正迈向天命之年。



我仍在找寻自己


窗外的山峦绵延不语,

看惯四季轮回。

绕城的江水昼夜不息,

音频随时节吟唱出肌理。

候鸟穿云拔雾不必问路,

南来北往的声调依然悅耳。


暴雨中行人多有惊呼,

唯大小雨伞绽放无言,

犹如晴天在墙角独自修行。

古街巷躺平的青石板,

储存着风霜雨雪的密码,

车马悉数颠簸踏过,

未曾泄密叹息。


岁月这个不倒翁,

从不唠叨絮语,

自顾沉淀潮汐。

红尘翻滚喧嚣,

我仍在黄昏的暮霭中

呼唤着找寻自己。

用澄澈碧净的冰湖之水,

将粘附的尘烟一一擦拭。



定数与变量


红尘渺茫,

相遇的事物与情缘,

如一树碧绿,

在高低的枝丫间

摇曳守望。

风雨洗涤,

鸟鸣喧嚣,

耐不住叶黄

与风摧飘荡。


“一切都是最好的安排,”

绝非宿命疗伤。

演绎的碰撞与过往,

集合成沿途

熟悉或陌生的定数,

解构着冥冥中

缘聚缘散的变量。



Jiang Yimao [Chongqing]

Time That Speaks Nothing (group poems)


On the way home, the setting sun stays composed,

Washing off the dust and take a short break.

Now the crescent moon goes off duty and rests at home.

Stars keep squinting slightly,

The whole night is coated with a black robe.


Wind strolls in the woods,

Rain spends its vacation among clouds,

Thunderbolt seizes the right time to be invisible.

Trains rest beside platforms, boats moor along the wharf,

Rivers resolutely embrace the vast sea.


Birds travel through the mist when returning home,

Time inspects all living creatures,

With nothing to speak.

The limpid wise eyes

Are editing and saving their own pictures.



The Quality


Having lived in the busy city too long,

I don’t care much about the dusk.

Bright lights prop up

The whole dark night.


Rows of golden ginkgo trees,

Intertwine with the fallen dusk.

Cold wind gently strokes the crouching leaves of twigs,

Murmuring the reviving code.

I am attentively listening to

Trains passing by in twilight snow under a tree.


The past memories we’ve owned

Are not less than leaves of a tree,

While the quality of our stories

Is inferior to all gold of the tree.



Doubtful About My Growth Ring


Locust trees turn bald, rain and snow dance gracefully,

Flowers fall in the late spring, birds fly from different directions

I notice I have been

Marked with 60 rings.


Staring into the mirror,

I can’t help blushing.

Just ignore the cheers of alcohol

Or the imbalance of blood pressure,

Play with my grandson and make faces.


In the dead of night,

I hold the scarlet heart and check it alone.

Poems often visit me,

We embrace each other with deep feeling.

Pleasantly, I perceive

I am stepping into the age of 50.



I’m Still Looking for Myself


The mountains outside the window stretch silently,

They get used to the cycle of four seasons.

The river around the city keeps running day and night,

The audio sings out certain texture based on different seasons.

Migratory birds who fly through clouds and mist needn’t ask the way,

The tone traveling from south to north remains tuneful.


Many pedestrians exclaim in the rainstorm,

Only umbrellas of different sizes are opened quietly,

Like a sunny day cultivating itself alone in a corner.

The flat green slabstones on the ancient alley

Save passwords for wind, frost, rain, and snow,

Vehicles and horses once bumped along the alley

Never let out any secret with a sigh.


Time, a tumbler,

Never chatters,

But focuses on its cultivation.

In the hustle and bustle of the mortal world,

I am still calling and finding myself

In the twilight mist.

The crystal-clear water in an icy lake

Is carried to wipe off the sorptive smoke and dust bit by bit.



Definite Number And Variable


In the boundless mortal world,

Things and affection that one meets,

Like a green tree,

sway and watch patiently

among high and low twigs.

Wind and rain wash off everything,

The chirping of birds is noisy,

Yellowing leaves can’t help fluttering

With big wind.


“Everything is perfectly prearranged”,

Which is by no means a kind of predestination.

The collision as well as the past of interpretation

Jointly transform themselves into

Familiar or unfamiliar definite numbers,

Deconstructing variables of reunion and separation

In the destiny.

            (Translated by Wu Minyu; 伍敏毓 译)



译者简介

伍敏毓,80后,海南大学英语笔译硕士,热爱诗歌翻译。目前在益阳职业技术学院担任英语教师,也是益阳市外事语言人才库成员,在《国际诗歌翻译》《诗殿堂》等海内外文学刊物等平台发表数篇翻译作品。



About the translator

  Wu Minyu, post-80s, graduated from Hainan University with a master degree in MTI. He is keen on poetry translation and works as an English teacher in Yiyang Vocational and Technical College. Meanwhile, he is also a member of talent pool for foreign affairs in Yiyang. Many of his translation works can be found in domestic and foreign literary journals such as Rendition of International Poetry and Poetry Hall.


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