本帖最后由 雨荷风 于 2015-10-8 00:17 编辑
◆府南河(组诗)
我正在靠近你。我试图靠近你 却不知道以什么样的名义 府南河,我一来 你就消失,在一个瞬间退回我的心底 府南河,你已经习惯在我之外奔流 即使坐在你身边,陪伴我的只有 垂柳依依
我不知道怎样才能溶入你?诗友说 提起裤脚,淌过唐宋明清那些线装的书吧。可是 我知道,就是你的流全部包围了我 我还只是固执地站在巴河岸边的一株柳,随风 倾泻着我的遥望和无可无不可的思虑
府南河,就这样 一不小心,我就把墨泼洒在成都平原 让我的叩问湿透一地
◆Funan River (a sequence)
I'm getting close to you. I try to be near you. But know not in what name. Funan River, once I come, You will disappear, in an instant, return to the bottom of my heart. Funan River, you are used to running outside me. Even if sitting by you, what keeps me company Is only the weeping willow swaying.
I know not how to dissolve into you. A poetic friend says Tuck up your trouser legs and wade over those thread-bound books Of Tang, Song, Ming, and Qing Dynasties. But I know, even if all your currents encircle me, I am still a willow standing doggedly on the shore of Ba River, with the wind Pouring out my hope for future and indifferent speculation.
Funan River, thus, Carelessly, I splash ink on Chengdu plain, Letting my inquiries wet the terra.
◎浣锦女
李冰在上游,他并不知道 数千年的逝波会使一个女孩弯下腰 在斜石板上洗刷着思念 府南河,你一流经那双脚髁 就开始缠绵。唐的云鬓一波一波袭来 蜀锦如织,脂香已经来到关外
从那时起,我和墨客们就闻讯赶来 一直涌到了明清河边。一江泼墨惊飞的夏雨 随浣锦女修长的手指抚过平原 抚过圆荷和那些深深浅浅。噢,府南河! 你是绕指而过的流啊 三月的落红,五月的梅雨 且行且走的船
◎The Girl Washing Brocade
Li Bing is at the upstream. He knows not Evanescent waves of thousands of years make a girl stooping And scrubbing thoughts on the inclined slate. Funan River, once you flow to her ankles, Begin lingering. Wave upon wave of Tang's hair coming, Like weaving Sichuan brocade; the scent of rouge gets beyond the Pass.
From then on, I hasten there with scholars on hearing the news, And rushing to the riverside of Ming and Qing Dynasties. The startled summer rains fly like a river of splashed ink, Following slender fingers of the girl washing brocade to sweep over the plain, And sweep over round lotus and where is deep and shallow. Ah! Funan River You flow round the fingers, oh. The fallen red petals in March, rains in plum season of May, And the boat goes along.
◎我就诞生在这里
我知道,在泽国的时候还没有你 那时的月亮和土地没有距离 当莲子游入藕荷时节,府南河啊 你就楔入我瘦瘦的脉博 在月亮上岸以前,以潮湿的烛光 抱紧我
府南河,我就诞生在这里 水泽密布、水道乱涌的沃土摧生我的诗情 就像八百年水患照亮的每一个晨熙 府南河,你用你从未停息的汹涌激奋我吧 我其实就是那轮赤脚上岸的月光 直达荆楚,刺穿吴越的脚印
漉漉之水,一本拔不出的典籍 我骄傲,我就诞生在这里 一个声音告诉我:川流甚深,川中多鱼 试问,府南河,你是谁开凿的河道 我这尾来自巴河的鱼 可否借道沿河而去
◎I Am Born Here
I know, when it's watery area, you aren't born yet. At that time, no distance between the moon and the land. In the season hen lotus seeds swim into lotus roots, oh, Funan River, You wedge into my thin pulse, Before the moon goes ashore, using moist candlelight To hold me tight.
Funan River, I am born here. The fertile land with marshy spots all over and waterways intersecting stimulates my poetic inspiration, Like flood of eight hundred years that lights every dawn. Funan River, please use your continual popple to bestir me! In fact, I am the moonshine that goes ashore on bare feet, My footprints reach Chu district, and cut through Wu and Yue kingdoms.
Seeping water, like an ancient book that can't be pulled out. I'm proud, I'm born here. A voice tells me—— “Streams in Sichuan are deep, and fishes teem in Mid-Sichuan." I ask, “Funan River, who cut your watercourse? Can I, a fish from Ba River, Use your course to go down the river?
◎府南河的月亮
府南河,今夜,你这静静的海洋 栽满我泛滥的渴望。我从一个夏天 研磨的夜晚出发,惊厥的马蹄一路向西 沿妖娆的土地,在向日葵的方向 让所有的窗口灌浆
月亮在这时跑来,速度足以击败一道仰望 一声问候就惊落的一树久别的寒霜 那些青气氤氲,那些成熟、收割和逐猎 那些翠影摇曳,那些跑不过 的涟漪和母亲的灯光
在那里,我匆匆占领一座红楼 我拾起父亲的镰,背叛了磨刀嚯嚯的季节 来到你的水边,府南河 我来了,来不及用后羿的名义 我一张弓就射中你
扯一耨稿纸咯血,我吐出一个世纪的抑郁 我做的茧已经被烛光咬穿,我的线将随你而去 缝补弯弯的月,缝补一切驾临的午夜 缝补着府南河啊 我三百年缺多圆少的梦乡
2008年7月8日 成都府南河
◎The Moon Over Funan River
Funan River, tonight, you are the silent sea Loaded with my inundant aspiration. I start from summer's Abrasive night and move west on eclamptic horseback, Along the fascinating land, in the direction of sunflowers, Let all the windows be in the milk.
The moon comes up at this time, its speed can vanquish my eyesight. A greeting can knock the frightened hoarfrost off the long-departed tree, That blue vapor, that maturity, harvest and hunting, Those green flickering shades, those ripples unable to overtake. And mother's lamplight.
There, I hurriedly occupy a red tower. I pick up father's sickle, and betray a season for sharpening it, Coming to your waterside, Funan River. I am coming, but there's no time in Houyi's name, Drawing the bow and hitting you.
Tearing some manuscript paper to spit blood on, I spit out dumps of a century. The cocoon I made is gnawed thro by candlelight; my silkthread will go with you, To darn the crescent moon, darn every midnight that comes, Darn Funan River, oh! My dreamland of three hundred years that waxes little and wanes much.
Written at Funan River of Chengdu on July 8, 2008.
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