本帖最后由 雨荷风 于 2015-10-7 23:02 编辑
虽然农历二月跟公历二月不同时,但是诗歌的心情是可以重叠的。这个二月,新的年份来到,必将带来新的希望!愿翻译版经过一冬的蛰伏,也能迎来一个万紫千红崭新的春天!
二月二日
【唐】李商隐
二月二日江上行,东风日暖闻吹笙。
花须柳眼各无赖,紫蝶黄蜂俱有情。
万里忆归元亮井,三年从事亚夫营。
新滩莫悟游人意,更作风檐夜雨声。
二月二
【唐】白居易
二月二日新雨晴,草芽菜甲一时生。
轻衫细马春年少,十字津头一字行。
February the Second
Fresh rain clears up the sky on th’ second day,
When grass and veggie all sprout straight away;
O handsome young men on horses so fine,
Along the cross-shaped ferry come in line.
(tr. Rhapsodia)
二月二日出郊
【宋】王庭皀
日头欲出未出时,雾失江城雨脚微。
天忽作晴山卷幔,云犹含态石披衣。
烟村南北黄鹂语,麦陇高低紫燕飞。
谁似田家知此乐,呼儿吹笛跨牛归?
February
by Ira Sadoff
A mist appalls the windshield.
So I still see trees as moral lessons,
as I pass under them, shadowy and astute.
The glazed aspen branches hover.
Ice heats up and cracks, road tar steams
like some animal where the blush
of cheek is chilled by annunciation.
I cannot say her face was trauma driven.
I'm still saturated with her, taking in
her etched-in countenance, otherworldly,
enveloping, frightening, the face you can't see,
pressed against it. So how can you imagine
what it feels like? Their gravity suffices,
the sealed and straining torsos
of aspens, an affront to our high-pitched moans,
feverish with disarray. Our expressions
have too much God in them, too much cloud, too much
blood on nail, too much arrow, too much quiver.
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