林莽 (Lin Mang)

A collection of poems from 诗天空(http://www.poetrysky.com). Translated by Henry and Jin Lei.

小城霏雨  被遗忘的高原小站  瞬间  暮冬之雪  Late Winter Snow  雨中长笛  雪一直没有飘下来  滴漏的水声  是春天,也不是春天 


小城霏雨

清晨,屋外正在落雨
室内幽暗
在我久居的院落深处
雨水滴嗒
打湿了我窗前的老树和葡萄藤
悠然间我想起
那夏日里曾客居的外省小城
早市的喧闹把我从睡意中唤醒

沿滴水的店铺屋檐
我走过早市的街巷
人流在伞的下面
在毗连的木屋檐下
在异乡的语音中
一条平缓而从容的溪水
从这条巷到那条巷
渐渐地
从沉甸甸的装满青菜的提篮里
从一丛丛淌着水滴的花束中
雨水霏霏,溶入一片江南画屏

当我沿早市的街巷
走回我客居的小屋
这外省小城和一束鲜花的幽香
给我留下了深深的温情
连雨水也那样亲切

有如我北方的家
晚饭后院落中的寂静
小女儿一整天玩得疲倦了
在初睡中喃喃梦呓
有时雨水就是在这时滴落在葡萄架上
一丝凉意正浸入夏夜的深处
有如那束晚香玉所唤起的

Downpour in a Small Town

Dawn breaks to rain outdoors
And indoors it is dark
Drumming rain
Wets the old tree and the grapevine outside my window
Back in the courtyard that has long been my home
And my thoughts turn
To a summer's day spent in a small town in another province
When the noise of the morning market woke me from slumber

I walked through market streets
Whose shop eaves dripped with rain
Packed with people under umbrellas
Under abutting eaves of wooden houses
Amid the accents of another place
A brimming gentle stream
Going gradually
From one street to the next
Through handbaskets laden with greens
And dripping bunches of flowers
Fused by pouring rain into a painted southern screen
And the little town in another province
With its aroma of cut flowers
Warmed me deeply as I walked
Back to my narrow lodgings
With intimacy even of rain

As if after supper in the still courtyard
Of my northern home
My daughter tired with daylong play
Murmured in the somniloquy of first sleep
And sometimes now raindrops on the vine trellis
Infuse cool deep into a summer's night
Like those tuberoses calling


被遗忘的高原小站

午后的寂静中
我们走向坡地上的小站
高原的青石峰下
空旷  看不到一个人
道路左边  渐渐侵入的流沙群
在阳光下金黄地闪烁
两只追逐的狗  远远地
从路基上倾斜而下
钻进了一片疲倦不堪的矮树林

那辆风狂的卡车
扔下我们  拖着尘土的长龙
很快地消失在山路的拐角上
阳光直射
再也听不到任何声音

穿铁路制服的小伙子迎面走来
突然终止了他缓慢的口哨声
从他疑问的目光里
我们已注定地被抛弃在这儿

远远望去
这高原的七月
那座几乎被列车遗忘的小站
在蒸腾的气流中遥遥而立
比来自远方的客人更孤单

A Small Forgotten Station on the Plateau

We walked in the solitude of afternoon
To a little hillside station
In Open land under a crag on the plateau
With no one to be seen
And encroaching sand sparkling gold
In the sunlight on the right of the road
Far off two chasing dogs
Swerved down from the roadbed
And plunged into exhausted bushes

The mad lorry 
Threw us off and vanished quickly
In a trail of dust
Round the bend of the hill road
And all sound stopped
In direct sunlight

The lad coming to meet us in railway uniform
Broke off his slow whistling
And we knew from his interrogative gaze
That we were doomed to be abandoned here
The distant little station
Looked almost forgotten by trains
Swaying in the steaming draught
Of the July plateau
Lonelier than a traveller from distant parts


瞬间

有时候,邻家的鸽子落在我的窗台上
咕咕地轻啼
窗口的大杨树不知不觉间已高过了四层楼的屋顶
它们轻绕那些树冠又飞回来
阳光在蓬松的羽毛上那么温柔
生命日复一日

我往往空着手从街上回来
把书和上衣掷在床上
日子过得匆匆忙忙
我时常不能带回来什么
即使离家数日
只留下你和这小小的屋子
生活日复一日

面对无声无息的默契
我们已习惯了彼此间的宽容
一对鸽子在窗台上咕咕地轻啼
他们在许多瞬间属于我们

日复一日灰尘落在书脊上渐渐变黄
如果生活时时在给予
那也许是另一回事
我知道,那无意间提出的请求并不过份
我知道,夏日正转向秋天
也许一场夜雨过后就会落叶纷飞

不是说再回到阳光下幽深的绿荫
日子需要闲遐的时候
把家收拾干净,即使
轻声述说些无关紧要的事
情感也会在其间潜潜走过
当唇际间最初的战栗使你感知了幸福
这一瞬已延伸到了生命的尽头
而那些请求都是无意间说出的

Instants

Sometimes the neighbour's pigeons land on my windowledge
Cooing softly
Where the great poplar at the window has somehow
    grown beyond the fourth-floor roof
They skim round its crown and back
The sunlight on their fluffy feathers
Alive day by day

I keep coming indoors empty-handed
And throwing book and jacket on the bed
As the days hurry by
I can bring scarcely anything home
Even after days away
Only you remain and the little room
Living day by day

We have grown used
By an unspoken pact to the room's breadth
A pair of pigeons cooing softly on the windowledge
Which at many instants belong to us
Day by day
Dust that falls on book spines gradually yellows
Perhaps it is otherwise
That life, if it does, provides
I know that the unwitting request is not excessive
And that summer turns to autumn
Perhaps fallen leaves will swirl after a night of rain

It does not mean a return to green shade deep in sunlight
A house-cleaning when leisure affords
Feelings may come on latent even as 
Irrelevancies are spoken softly
The instant when a first trembling on the lips teaches you happiness

Lasts till the end of life
A request always voiced unwittingly


暮冬之雪

我来到您的身旁
静度这一年中最安闲的时光

炉火不用生得很旺
屋里已足够温暖
可以无心地睡一会儿
梦着小时候的日子

靠着棕色的木板隔墙
我仿佛又听到了
那有些忧伤的哼唱
当年乡下的老屋
也许早已不存在了
石竹花在窗台上慢慢地生长

暮冬的雪飘落了一个又一个黄昏
寂静中能听到它们打在玻璃上的声音
透过被飞雪映得发亮的窗子
老树的枝桠显得更加黝黑
屋檐上融雪垂落的声音
使我久久不能入睡

像我小时候一样
母亲依旧那样整日地操劳
她从这间房到那间房  最后
掩掩我的被角才去睡了
飘飞的雪花渐渐掩住了以往的记忆
隐约间我听见
细枝坠落
温暖的炉火上
水壶在发出嘶嘶的声息


Late Winter Snow

I have come to you
To spend the calmest time of year in peace

The fire need not be very bright
It is warm enough here
To sleep awhile unwittingly
Dreaming of youth

Against the brown wooden partition
I can almost hear
The somewhat distressed humming
The old country house
May no longer be there
With pinks growing slowly on the windowsill

Late winter snows float down twilight by twilight
To be heard in the solitude against the glass
And through the window illuminated by snowflakes
The old tree's crotches seem swarthier
And the sound of melting snow falling from the eaves
Keeps me long from sleep

And in my youth
I did not sleep till Mother
Having slaved daylong
From one room to the next
Tucked in my coverlet
So the snowflakes gradually tuck in memory of the past
And I faintly hear
Twigs fall 
And the kettle singing
On the warm fire


雨中长笛

这是长笛的声音
黄昏的雨飘个不停
(可以把音量放得小一点)
那些日子已经远得看不见了
秋天在和一个少年的心灵对话
既遥远又陌生

那些逝去的日子
比书中描写得更确切
校园里的树叶黄了
飘了一地
心中的秋天更高远
高得让人发空

落叶在风中滚动
长笛却很纯净
纯净得有如漫步于高原的七月
草场无垠
马群在月光下漫游

而我还听到了那逝去的
深秋里的脚步声

就在这高高的楼窗前
夕阳里闪动的鸽群
现在不知在哪个阳台上躲雨
长笛的声音在飘
飘得很远

Flute in Rain

This is the sound of a flute
In waves of twilight rain
Days beyond our sight
The autumn speaks again
To a young man
Distant and strange

The past
Is clearer than any book describes
Yellow leaves blew
Over the campus
In a season clear and high
Drawing that wonderful cool sense of emptiness

Yellow leaves always
But that pure flute fills the way
Like wandering a July plateau 
Boundless grass in rolling hills
Hooves in the midnight clay

Yet I still hear the past
Old autumn's footfalls
Outside this high window
Pigeons flashed at dusk
On whose balcony do they now roost?
The sound of a flute drifts loosely,
  drifts into distant space


雪一直没有飘下来

不是在水或音乐的节拍里
有时在一阵无名的节奏和忧郁的情调中
有一种声音比诱惑更神秘

不一定要知道你是谁
幻想在人丛中不会找到你
也许因此,雪一直没有飘下来

果树对于果树不知是怎么相爱的
围墙上的麻雀飞去又回来
在开花的季节过后
每一个走过园子的人都会有不同的感觉
人和人是怎么相爱的
有时隔着比树更远的距离

雪一直没有飘下来
尽管在许多瞬间沉入了铅灰色的天空
幻想的风使激情发冷
也许那从未降雪的云层很低
他无法知道化成水流的感觉
也许那时你已不再那么说

但,雪一直没有飘下来

Still It hasn't Snowed

Not from the meter of water or music
But from unnamed rhythm and gloom
A voice more tempting than mystery
You don't need to know who you are
Fantasy won't find you in a crowded bar

with that possibility, still it hasn't snowed

Nobody knows the love between peach trees
Sparrows fly from the courtyard wall
After the season of untouched flowers
Everyone passing will feel differently
How do people love each other?
Sometimes they're more distant than trees

And still it hasn't snowed
Although immersed in the leaden sky
Fantasy's front holds passion down
Perhaps the low clouds of unfallen snow
Never know
The feeling of letting go
Perhaps you might not say so then

But still it hasn't snowed


滴漏的水声

厨房里均匀的滴水声
在午夜的梦境之外
你被无情地敲打

那个曾走失于灰色街巷的女孩
穿出街头绿地和逝如流水的光阴
已不再年轻
但一个人内在的光彩会使她发亮
照耀岁月年华
和人们公正的品评

秋日的雨被冷风吹落
你裹紧身子,匆匆地穿过车流不息的雨雾
那高层楼中的家
在灰蒙蒙的雨水中伫立于你的背后

生活虽然已经拧得很紧
但在疏忽的命运中依旧有水不断滴漏
于是,那些无法说清的结局
反复将人折磨

也许因为这些
在最初的日子里有人把你回避
在那把撑开的雨伞下
他深深理解那位老人的诗句
金属的骨架上流动着上帝的仁慈

一个人不同于另一个人
伞遮住雨水的同时还遮住了什么

光线暗淡
过于熟悉的一切让人深感痛楚
梦中你辗转反侧

于是,在午夜的梦境之外
常常听到厨房里均匀的滴水声

The Sound of Dripping

The steady sound of dripping in the kitchen
And you are struck mercilessly
Outside the midnight dream

The girl who went astray in the grey streets
Pierced the time of street-end greens and vanished
     flowing water
And is no longer young
But one man's inner lustre can illuminate her
Lighting up the years
And others' impartial judgement

You wrap up well and hurry through the mist
Of autumn rain blown down by cold wind
And its ceaseless traffic
And the family in the skyscraper
Stands still behind your back in the murky rain

Life may pinch now
But water still drips ceaselessly through interstices of fate
And the ineffable conclusions
Keep up their torment

Which is perhaps why
People avoided you in the first days
And he understood under the open umbrella
The truth in the line in the old man's poem
That the grace of God flows on to a metal skeleton

People differ
What did the umbrella keep off besides the rain

A dim ray of light
Through all that is familiar produces profound anguish
And you toss and turn as you dream

And then you often hear outside the midnight dream
The steady sound of dripping in the kitchen


是春天,也不是春天

是春天,也不是春天 
她美好,是否也残酷 

曾是那样的遥远 
田野在一片薄雾中,春天 
在它力所能及的地方促根茎风长 
我寂静又突然地走近你 
爱恋得既具体又神奇 
你悄然转身将春天的花束堆满怀抱 

是春天,也不是春天 
和暖的风吹透整座树林 
绿色的火焰闪动金黄的渴望 
星星点点、星星点点 
织情感的网 

而我只想对你说,这季节对于我们 
是春天,也不是春天

It Is Spring And It Is Not

Spring it is and it is not
She is nice, but cruel as well
Ever far away
Covered in the mist were the fields
Spring reaches as far as it can
To promote the roots growing
I approach you quietly without your awareness
Love goes on concretely but mysteriously
Smoothly you turn around 
Spring flowers to embrace into your breast

Spring it is and it is not
Warm breeze sweeps through the woods
Golden desire flashes in green flames
Sparks and glitters, sparks and glitters
to weave the net of feelings
Spring it is and it is not
The season is such for us
This is what I want to tell you


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