邦东夜行记

赵家鹏

上帝合上了他的黑帘布。山林岸然

放出豢养的白雾

此时，我们正怀抱风尘，穿过邦东之夜

世界像眼窟窿，我们像末路之鼠

一万顷浓雾压顶，更多时候它约等于一声犬吠

加快我们的渺小

脚下是浩阔的澜沧江，但我们更愿意相信：

执意向南的流水，

这时候不过是一种虚妄的存在

有那么一瞬间，我差点就哭出声来

路旁那些表情漠然的树木，他们多像我的亲人

我想抱住他们，就像抱住善良

选自《诗刊》7月号

NIGHTTRIP THROUGH BANGDONG

Zhao Jiapeng

The Almighty has drawn his black curtain.

The forest hills stand above the world,

letting their pet mountain mist out to play.

Passing through Bangdong, embracing the night's wind,

a world not unlike the hollow of a skull,

we scurry like rats.

The omnipresent fog presses on us,

it hastens our steps like a dog's sudden barking,

plunging us into abject misery.

Below us is the mighty Mekong River,

it flows south with a determined focus, yet we want to believe

its current existence is but an illusion.

For an instant, I almost burst out crying:

the trees on the side of the road look so wooden,

much like my folks back home.

I want to embrace them, like holding on to what is good.

赵家鹏，云南昭通人，现居昆明。诗歌见于《诗刊》《人民文学》《星星》《边疆文学》《中国诗歌》《滇池》等，曾获第一届复旦大学光华诗歌奖，参加第五届《人民文学》“新浪潮”诗会。

椰树叙 

孙文波

……椰子，不会落下砸中人的头颅。

它只在风中滚动，迅疾像一只足球。

归宿是大海。在大海中它仍然像一只足球，

由波涛踢着，仿佛大海中有一扇不知

什么鬼守护的大门——请问，这是不是虚构。

当然是——并非没有事实基础。

它来自民间传说。我的确没有听说过有人

被椰子砸中。它使我无论什么时候

走在椰林中看到悬挂树梢的椰子，一点不担心。

反而好奇，它们纠结一起

形状的独特——的确太独特了——独特的还有作为

树的形状；一圈一圈树干说明年轮。

主要是它笔直，犹如自然的旗帜。我喜欢

看到它在飓风中左右摇晃柔韧如芭蕾——女粉子树。

杨小滨会这样命名。对应被命名为男树的巨杉

——就这样定了——难道，

还不让人内心生出柔情——虽然可能是柔情滥用。

滥用就滥用。这一点，就像我们喝了椰子水，

还要吃椰子肉。甜密，可以这样形容——

尤其是在夕阳西下时分，椰树下放一张躺椅，

面朝大海——花不开，我的内心仍满庭芳。

选自《诗刊》7月号

SPEAKING OF COCONUT TREES

Sun Wenbo

…Coconuts, they don’t fall and smash people’s skulls.

But with the wind they will roll as fast as a football.

The sea is the home they return to.

Floating in the ocean, they still behave like a football;

the waves kick them, as if the ocean has sent out

who-knows-what ghosts to defend its amazing gates.

—One may ask, Isn’t this some fantasy?

Of course it is—but not without the facts.

It comes from folk tales.

My reliable source says that no one was ever smashed by a coconut.

I am not even slightly worried when walking in a coconut grove and

watching the coconuts suspended from the treetops.

On the contrary, it’s marvelous the way they rise up entangled

in unique shapes—truly too unique —even unique for trees

in their appearances; a ring above a ring around the tree trunk shows its age.

Generally they are perfectly straight like natural flag poles. I like to

watch them sway left and right in a hurricane —like ballerinas—Pink Girl Trees.

Yang Xiaobin has a knack for giving these kinds of names. Corresponding to the giant tree we call Fir,

which we consider a masculine name—it’s settled then—don’t you agree

that it makes your heart tingle with tenderness—

though the sentiment is possibly an indulgence.

So be it, let us indulge. This is like after we drinkcoconut juice,

we still want to eat its thick sweet meat. That’s one way to put it, how endearing this is—

especially as the sun is setting west,

and you are sitting under the palm trees in a reclining chair,

facing the ocean—no blossoms around,

but my heart is still filled with the sweet fragrance of my courtyard.

Notes:

*Yang Xiaobin, poet, author, Professor Yang Xiaobin , born Shanghai,1963, teaches Chinese linguistics in the United States.

孙文波，1956年出生，四川成都人。1986年开始发表诗歌。曾与肖开愚、张曙光创办诗歌刊物《九十年代》，与林木创办诗歌刊物《小杂志》等，出版诗集《地图上的旅行》等，《与人合编《中国诗歌评论》（三卷）、《中国诗歌：九十年代备忘录》等。1996年获首届“刘丽安诗歌奖”。

故 居

李天靖

时光很薄

一抬脚　就能踉跄步入

任童年的小手

推开楼道所有的暗门

木马复活———

如电光燧石穿过

儿时的庭院　镜面的倒影

鲜花如斯

映像如此脆弱

像异乡客　终不能举起

叩响门环的手

选自《诗刊》9月号

FORMER RESIDENCE

Li Tianjing

Light doors along the passage of time—

lift a foot, you can easily stagger in.

Let a boy’s little hand

push open every hidden door along the passage.

A wooden horse comes to life!

As if the old garden has gone back

in time, the reflections on the water

are as fresh as today’s flowers.

But images are mirages,

and a stranger in a strange place

cannot be heard knocking at doors.

李天靖，诗人、诗评家，中国作家协会会员，现为华东师范大学某杂志编审,上海作家协会《上海诗人》首席编辑。诗歌获《人民文学》《中国作家》《文艺报》《写作》《芒种》等多项诗歌奖。诗集《你成为你诗歌的猎物》近获上海作协2015年度诗歌奖。诗歌入选《朦胧诗二十五年》《中国<星星>五十年选》《风吹无疆——〈绿风〉10年精品选》《中国2008年度诗歌精选》直至《花城年选系列2013年诗歌年选》等。

所有的五谷都在这一天集合

——写在腊八节前夜

吕 游

所有的五谷都在这一天集合

在锅里，母亲把它们放在一起

像小时候，把我们姐弟七个

放在小小的炕上，七个出窑的瓷器

脸皴着，妈妈一个个洗干净

像洗这些五谷杂粮，只有这一天

四季是团聚的，冷和暖

在一个锅里沸腾，只是少了黑豆

弟弟代替黑豆种在地里

今年，还是不能回家

选自《诗刊》7月号

ALL THE GRAINS GATHER

—Written on the Eve of The "Laba" Festival*

Lu You

On this day all the grains gather

in a pot. Mother lines them up together

like us seven little siblings in your younger days

on a little heated brick bed, seven china dolls from one kiln,

faces chapped, mama bathed us one by one until clean,

just like she washes the grains. This is the day

they reunite across four cold and warm seasons,

in one boiling pot minus the black beans.

No black beans this harvest, we planted other crops for younger brother;

he can’t come home, like last year.

Notes

*The Laba Festival is celebrated on the 8th day of the 12th lunar month, when rice gruel or congee is eaten. The Festival is also called The End of the Year Offering of Meat Festival, a name which has its origins in hunting game that was cooked as sacrificial meat and then served at a family or communal gathering.

吕游，男，诗人，河北省沧县人，现已经创作诗歌12000余首。曾参加河北省首届青年诗会，首届中国网络诗人高级研修班。

工厂片段

刘 建

那些愚钝、木讷的金属，在加工台前

敛起它的锋芒。渐次呈现的不是生硬

而是内心的懦弱和柔软

铣。削。锉。磨。一定有个结局等待在某个地方

胸有成竹的图纸置身事外，不动声色

有着上帝的矜持和冷静

计划单手忙脚乱。检验单一丝不苟。发货单按部就班

我不知道那些打包发出的成品工件的去向

就像我不清楚自己的命运。我看见：

我们和它们都闪耀着汗珠一样的光泽

选自《诗刊》9月号

SNIPPETS FROM THE FACTORY

Liu Jian

Those drab, dull dummies of metal hide their sheen on the factory platform.

Layer upon layer, what comes to light is not their hardness,

but, in fact, inner weakness and softness.

Cast. Cut. File. Grind. There will be an end to all the work somewhere.

A well-calibrated blueprint does not indulge,

expressionless and raising no voices,

more like god’s hand of restraint and sobriety.

The hustle and bustle of rush orders. Inspections meticulous.

Invoices neatly stacked in order.

I don’t know where these products are going,

like myself, my destiny is unclear. I can see:

us and them, both are gleaming with beads of sweat,

the same kind of shine.

刘 建，男，60后，江苏省徐州市睢宁县人，徐州市作家协会会员。目前在南京市打工，业余学习写作。