《2021冬季刊》双语诗歌朗诵

九寨沟游记·镜海作者：齐格果你从未像她们一样，妩媚多姿，招徕万国游人。你靛青色的眼眸，拥抱的是他乡之客。命名是件礼物，你从中诞生，来自深处。镜子，哪怕被微风吹皱，却依旧敞开怀抱。你太清澈，容纳不下阴影，可飞鸟却从中飞过。或许某日，山峦崩摧，星辰坠落，尘埃弭平沟壑。你悠然隐去，却不曾消亡，仍在世界的另一角。你的宠儿，对于那些山林，生亦何忧，死亦何扰，它们欢笑着睁开双眼，又甜甜地转而入眠。可人却不能，醒时或睡着，都有太多惊厥。我愿长久沉醉，可你挥挥手，送我归返。凡人无法在此间居住，他们的寓所，是迷惘和烦恼。即便筑造木屋，离你都过于迢遥。我何时能故地重游？你不再言语。可我知道，你的微笑里，答案早已写好。

On Jiuzhaigou - Mirror Laketranslated by PLSyou are never like them,fascinating and alluring,courting people from all around.those indigo eyes of yours,attracting all kinds of strangers.it’s a gift to name one,from which you are born,the deep.mirror,even though wrinkled by the wind,still having its chest wide open.you are too clearto bear any shadow,but birds skim across it.maybe somedaymountains crumble,the sky falls,dust fills the ravine.you slowly fade,but never disappear,still somewhere in the world.your darling,to those mountains and forests,leaving no trace of trouble,their eyes open with smiles,then closed in sweetness.but human beings cannot,awake or asleep,they are burdened with too many convulsions.I wish to indulge in this forever,but you wave your hand,sending me back.no human being is allowed to live here,the place they dwellis confusion and sorrow.even to build a log cabinis too far away from you.when can I return to visit?you stay silent.but I already know,there is an answerin your smile.

蓝色厨房翻译：诗验室蓝色瓷砖铺成的墙面一旁是黑色烤盘餐具之铜明亮如日在蓝绿色星纹方块间闪耀这里的烤箱比你的皮肤还黑你不知道除20世纪的家具以外所有圆状或方形的人都像一个开放博物馆般陈列着也确实被来自西方与东方激情高昂的男女访客们的休闲装所装饰敞开的窗户是印象派之特色阳光闪耀，色彩作响在诺曼底的一个夏日假期在疫情似乎已经过去以后花园重返如莫奈笔下绘出一个整体的全部的那抹色彩一样嘈杂立体派在颜色中爆发与画家们及其爱人的日常生活一样真实

Blue Kitchenby XanaduBlue tiled wall andblack oven plate asideCopper of utensils as bright as sunshines among starry squares of blue-greenwhere the oven is blacker thanyour skin when you don't knowAnyone round or square except20th century furnitureRearranged like an open museumindeed decorated by casual wearof excited women and men visitorsfrom East and WestOpen window as Impressionist featurele soleil brille et les couleurs sonnent *on summer holiday in Normandieafter pandemic seemed to have goneGarden returns as chaoticas Monet's streak of paintthat draws an unexpectedwhole of ensembleCubism explodes in colorsas real as everyday lifeof painters andtheir lovers.

空想作者：薄桜时间像盐 融化在肌体，剩下我们凝望的眼睛：月升日落，记事本上昂扬的惊叹号早已弯曲如镰刀，叩问来处与归返。沙漠还是待垦的荒地，曾坚信必须追究一个未来的清晰答案但生命不能精确如天平，区分出黄金或者铜锈，推开夜色的旅人蒙眼洞悉辽阔，尖草吻别破旧的义足，等待手杖化作桃林，躯干变成比光阴更深的海，旱地生泽国。

daydreamingtranslated by PLStime melting inside the body like salt,what’s left is our gazing eyes:moon rising in the sun’s descent, the jaunty exclamation marks on the notebookalready bent like scythes, inquiring about the whereabouts.the desert or a wasteland waiting to be cultivated, believing oncethere must be a clear answer for the futurebut life can’t be as accurate as a scale, differentiatinggold or patina, the voyager who enters the nightgrasping the vastness with eyes masked, sword grass kissing goodbye to the dilapidatedprosthetic legs, expecting the walking stick to turn into a peach blossom, and the torsointo an ocean deeper than time, water all over an arid land.

失而复得的诗，一翻译：诗验室相信我你不希望看到一个国家的追梦者集体前行、与火共舞、重返战场、迷恋紧急救济、自娱自乐、为那些被责任的重量压扁却又卷土重来的困惑之水缓解痛苦的轰动场面，蓝领们必须面对的残酷。被怂恿着欢迎英雄归来。捧红童星。一旦“抛头露面”警示信号就不断闪烁。在传说漫天飞的黄金时代，一对拼命奋斗的夫妻惧怕清醒的正念。明天，一个酷热的夏天将使一个空巢变热。它能持续多久？它能卑鄙到何种程度？中产阶级的都市人用饥荒与政治混乱裹住我。我的双手在公共澡堂里发痒。虽然在嘈杂中四分五裂，这些人依然整日以各种麻木束身。他们喜欢延缓孤单与衰老，和用一朵花来命名我。我猜这是因为他们无条件爱我。

found poem, I by Ana Padilla Fornielestrust me, you do not want to see the blockbuster visions of a nation of dreamersmarching on,playing with fire,rejoining the battle,obsessed withbread lines, a domestic bonanza,bringing relief toa resurgence oftroubled watersdeflated by the weight of responsibility,the grim picture of a blue-collar necessity.urged to share a hero’s welcome.hyping child stars.warning signals flash forsomething ventured. in a golden age ofold tales, a struggling couplefears a sobering mindfulness.tomorrow a blistering summerwill heat up an empty nest.how long can it last?how low will it go?middle-class urbanitesclothe me with famine and political turmoil.my hands itch in public bathhouses.broken in the chaos,these men still spend all daydraped in varying states of torpor.they like to stave off loneliness and old age,and named me after a flower.I assume it’s because they love me unconditionally.

树作者：汤雅萱一颗心里的树在月亮下的椅子上听夜晚和秋的声音一种初生的果实无法听见的低吟这棵树从不穿鞋，也不囤积回忆因此拥有了厚实的脚底，是时间的岩石近一点，她说，再近一点你可以和我说话 ——让落在地上的词语流淌像长河没有人会为一棵树流泪或奔走因为树的孤独比沉默更轻我伸手去摸她身上的褶皱像触到了雾中的森林可她偏要说 ——在所有的颜色与乌云里树的归树森林的归森林我跺起脚来发出熟睡时干瘪又急促的声音我想说假若有一天历史的盗贼要偷走她身上所有的果实我会记住其中的每一颗让她们紧紧拥抱在黑夜里她还是走了没那么远，又没那么近留下我和一整片森林一起接受并习惯遗忘的前提忘记大海尽头的岔路忘记锋利忘记时间的里里外外忘记窗外的伤心她走以后，我看见四季远远地舒展自己看见自己，也在四季里

treetranslated by PLSa tree from the hearton a chair under the moonlistening to the sound of the night and the autumna groan newly formed fruits cannot graspthis tree never wears shoes, nor stores memoriesso it has thick soles, is the rock of timecloser, she said, closer stillyou can talk to me —let the scattered words flow like a riverno one would cry or run for a treebecause solitude of the tree is lighter than silenceI extended my hand to feel the creases on her bodyas if touching a forest in the mistbut she insisted —in all colors and dark cloudsthose of the tree belong to the treeand the forest to the forestI started stompingmaking a flat yet hurried noise in sleepI wanted to say that if one daythieves of history stole all of her fruitsI would remember each one of themkeep them huddled in the dark nightshe left anywaynot so far, nor so closeleaving me with the whole forestaccepting and becoming accustomed to the idea of forgettingforget about the crossroads at the end of the seathe sharpnessthe ins and outs of timethe sadness beyond the windowafter she’s gone, I saw four seasons stretching themselves in the distanceseeing myself, also in these seasons