目击道存
阳台的铁栏杆上有一坨鸟粪
我没有动手将它清理掉，出于
对飞翔的生灵的敬意
我甚至愿意
把它看成
铁锈上的一朵花
2015.7.24
WITNESSING TAOISM
by Yu Xiaozhong
In my balcony, there’s a bird dropping
on the iron rails.
I will not clean it off
out of respect for flying creatures.
I will not clean it
off.
I will even take it
as a flower
on rust.
(2015)
(trans by Ming Di)
无 题
那些保留下来的信
同时保留着信封
邮寄地、到达地、邮戳
那些保留下来的信
带有最初的折痕
重读一次，需要抚平一次
又原样折叠，放回
那些没有寄出而保留下来的书信
也有一个信封
或者，要给它找一个信封
庄重如选墓地
2017.10.22
UNTITLED
by Yu Xiaozhong
The letters are saved
along with the envelopes,
who sent it, from where and to where,
stamps and postmarks.
The letters maintain the creases
initially folded.
Each time I read a letter, I unfold it,
and fold it back in its original folds.
The letters not sent but saved
also have envelopes.
Or, I need to find an envelope for each
in a grave way
as if selecting for each a grave.
(2017)
二月一日，晨起观雪
不要向沉默的人探问
何以沉默的缘由
早起的人看到清静的雪
昨夜，雪兀自下着，不声不响
盲人在盲人的世界里
我们在暗处而他们在明处
我后悔曾拉一个会唱歌的盲女合影
她的顺从，有如雪
落在艰深的大海上
我本该只向她躬身行礼
Watching Snow in the Morning of February 1st
by Yu Xiaozhong
Never ask the silent people
The cause of their silence.
An early riser sees the quiet snow
falling silence last night, without a sound.
The blind live in their own world
We are in the dark and them in the light
I regret having taken a photo
With a blind girl ; her obedience was like snow
falling on deep ocean. I should have done
no more than bowing to her
（trans by Ou Shilin）
顿 悟
两只喜鹊在草地上觅食
当我路过那里时它们默默飞走了
无论我多么轻手轻脚，都不会有
自设的善意的舞台
退回到远观它们的那一刻
那时我想过：当它们不啼叫时
仿佛不再是喜鹊
只是羽毛凌乱的饿鸟
从什么时候开始，我已认定
喜鹊就应该有喜鹊的样子呢
从什么时候开始，我已假定
如果巫师被蛇咬了，就不再是巫师呢
这些疑问，随两只喜鹊顿悟般的
振翅飞起而释然了。有朝一日
我可能是不复鸣叫的
某只秋虫，刚填进它们的腹中
2017.11.8，2018.1.18
Insight
by Yu Xiaozhong
Two magpies are foraging on the grass.
Silently they flew away, when I passed.
No matter how much caution I take, there's no stage
of kindness by self-assumption.
Back to the moment I beheld them from a distance,
I was thinking that they no longer seemed to be magpies
when they did not crow,
but just hungry birds with a mess of feathers
Since when I became so determined
that magpies should look like magpies ?
Since when I have assumed that a wizard bitten by a snake
will no longer be a wizard ?
I feel relieved of these questions when the magpies
flutter away in their own epiphany. Some day in the future
I might be a certain autumn insect filled in their belly
that no longer chirps.
（trans by Ou Shilin）
宿醉后醒来
宿醉后醒来，看手机，五点二十分
尘世安静，惟有鸟鸣声声
百灵鸟、喜鹊、画眉，如此殷勤
仿佛要接我到新世界
此时离李白近，离解放大道远
离故去的老父近，离银行卡号远
离从深井里汲水的杰克吉尔伯特近
离教训我的老僧远
离花香近，离太阳远
太阳就要升起
在此时的我和昨夜的我之间
有一道裂隙，深不见底
我已无所忆。太阳不会大白于天下
WAKING UP AFTER A DRUNKEN NIGHT
by YU Xiaozhong
Waking up after a drunken night, I read 5:20 a.m. on my mobile phone,
and the world is quiet except for the bird singings from the larkes, magpies,
and thrushes, so hospitable
as if to bring me to a new world.
At this moment, Li Po is closer and the Liberty Avenue below farther away.
My late father is closer and my bank card number farther away.
Closer is Jack Gilbert who writes “I was getting water tonight…”
and farther away is the old monk who once taught me a lesson.
Closer comes the scent of flowers while the sun stays farther away.
Now the sun is about to rise.
Between what I am and what I was
there is a gap unmeasurably deep.
I remember almost nothing. The sun will not reveal everything.
(trans by LIU Xiangyang)
偶 遇
黎明即起，沿江岸散步
凉风吹来，有如宿债一笔勾销的快意
路遇三个女摄影师
正为一只小划子兴奋不已
用她们的话说，在开阔的江面上
一只小划子、一个男人驾船凌波而行
那派头——“看起来真是浪漫”
可以想象，她们的镜头将忽略
沉稳如老者的大货轮
在毗邻的草坪上
我独自目睹了另一幕
一条蛇缓慢地游移
接近路边的小树时
它也有过观望
然后扭身横穿过水泥路面
这造物完全失去了隐蔽
就在我的眼皮底下
它钻入一间小屋的石砌屋基
我知道，它同样来自于江水中
但为自己如此平心静气地旁观感到惊奇
我没有投之以石
也许，我早已认定
如果你打死一条蛇
那死蛇，会转而在你的梦中现身
2018.6.17
Encounter
by Yu Xiaozhong
Rising at dawn, I walk along the bank.
Cool wind blows joyfully
like old debts being cancelled.
Coming across are three women photographers
excited about a kayak.
A man in a kayak sailing on the open river
above the waves, in their words, " looks romantic".
You may imagine that their lenses will ignore the huge cargo ship
moving stably like an elderly.
On the lawn adjacent
I witness another scene on my own.
A snake drifts by
slowly to a small tree on the roadside.
It does looks on
before twisting across the cement path.
Having entirely lost its refuge, the creature squeezes
into the stone base of a small house, right under my eyes.
I know it's also from the river, yet I am surprised to see myself
being so calm as an on-looker.
I do not throw a stone on it
for I might have been in the belief that should you kill a snake,
it would appear in its death
in your dreams.
2018-06-17
(Translated from Chinese by Ou Shilin)
Yu Xiaozhong (b1965, 余笑忠) was born in the rural area of Qichun county in eastern Hubei. He graduated from Beijing Broadcasting Institute in 1986 and has worked for Hubei Radio Station since then. He started writing poetry in college and has won a number of prizes such as the 2003 Chinese Poetry Prize awarded jointly by the Star Poetry Monthly and Poetry Monthly, the third Yangtze River Poetry Prize, and the twelfth October Literary Prize in 2015.
