韩东诗三首英译

◎西思翎、田海燕



韩东,诗人、作家、电影导演。1961年5月生于南京。8岁随父母下放苏北农村。1982年毕业于山东大学哲学系。1993年辞去公职。1980年开始发表诗歌作品。曾主编民办文学刊物《他们》,为“第三代诗歌写作”中的代表性诗人。有诗集《白色的石头》、《爸爸在天上看我》、《重新做人》、《他们》、《你见过大海》、《韩东的诗歌》等。并著有长篇小说及中短篇集多部。

Han Dong is a poet, a novelist, and a movie director. He was born in May 1961 in Nanjing. When he was 8 years old, he was sent with his parents to the northern Jiangsu province, where they lived in the countryside. In 1982, he graduated from the Department of Philosophy of Shandong University. In 1993 he resigned from his employment. He has published poetry since 1980. He acted as a chief editor on the literary magazine Tamen (“They” or “Them”). He is a prominent poet among “the third generation of poetry writing”. His collections of poems include “The White Stone”, “Daddy is Watching Me from Heaven”, “Rehabilitation”, “They”, “You have Seen the Sea”, “Poems by Han Dong”, and more. He has equally published novels, and collections of novellas and short stories. 


温柔的部分

我有过寂寞的乡村生活
它形成了我生活中温柔的部分
每当厌倦的情绪来临
就会有一阵风为我解脱
至少我不那么无知
我知道粮食的由来
你看我怎样把清贫的日子过到底
并能从中体会到快乐
而早出晚归的习惯
捡起来还会象锄头那样顺手
只是我再也不能收获些什么
不能重复其中每一个细小的动作
这里永远怀有某种真实的悲哀
就象农民痛哭自己的庄稼


Peaceable Parts

Once I led a lonely life in the country
It forms of my past a quite peaceable part 
Whenever my mood was weary
A breeze would meet me for relief

It made me for sure less of a nitwit
I can tell you where the food comes from
Look what I got in the end of a poor day
And tell from there the depth of my joy

The habit of going out early coming in late
Is picked up as easy as the hoe
But what for me if there’s nothing to reap
Deeds so small they cannot be repeated

Here lies forever a reason for sorrow
Like farmers who cry for their crop



美好的日子

美好的日子里,吹来了一阵风
像春风一样和煦,它就是春天的风
还有温暖的阳光,一起改变了我
使我柔软、善感、迷失了坚定的方向

严酷的思想产生于寒冷的季节
平静的水面凝成自我的坚冰
大街上我感到眼眶潮湿
灵魂的融化已经开始

像河蚌从它的铠甲里探身出来
我变得这样渺小、低等,几近于草木
一阵春风的吹拂下我就像我的躯壳
我爱另一些躯壳——美丽的躯壳

1996


Happy Day

oh happy day, the wind is blowing and
the wind is kind, an air of spring 
the sunshine’s warm, together they turn me on
make me mellow, sentimental, aimless, adrift

grim speculation was the fruit of a cold season
it froze the still waters of self into ice
but now my eyes feel moist in the streets
and my very soul begins to melt

like a mussel leaning out of its armor
how small I got, how low, nearly vegetating
spring wind caresses and I become just my body 
I love other shells – beautiful shells

1996

翻译贴于诗生活网站空中键盘论坛2016-5-4  
Translation posted on the Air Keyboard forum of Poemlife website 2016-5-4  



我们不能不爱母亲

我们不能不爱母亲,
特别是她死了以后。
衰老和麻烦也结束了,
你只须擦拭镜框上的玻璃。

爱得这样洁净,甚至一无所有。
当她活着,充斥各种问题。
我们对她的爱一无所有,
或者隐藏着。

把那张脆薄的照片点燃,
制造一点烟火。
我们以为我们可以爱一个活着的母亲,
其实是她活着时爱过我们。



Not to love our mother we can not

Not to love our mother we can not,
Now she is dead, precisely.
The burden of aging is also over,
You simply wipe the glass of the frame.

This love is clean, nothing even.
Alive, she filled us with a myriad of worries.
Our love for her, nothing
Or a disguise.

Old brittle photograph lights up,
Turning into little fireworks.
We thought we could love a mother alive,
The fact is, when she was alive she loved us.


翻译贴于诗生活网站空中键盘论坛2017-3-2  
Translation posted on the Air Keyboard forum of Poemlife website 2017-3-2  
 


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