anna
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发表于: 星期三 十一月 04, 2009 3:36 pm    发表主题:

Valentine’s Day

It is early spring.
Night mist falls.
Trees sparsely stand.

I look down the narrow street,
and write you a letter-
the candlelight scents
of roses and chocolate.
I wear a red silk gown,
wait for a pure-accented gentleman.

I don't speak his language.
I speak to the piling white sheets:
the wine we sipped,
the music we listened to,
the books we read
while rain dripped down your roof.

My insomnia will ride on the bus
that you rode twenty years ago.
I will take your seat, stare into the dark.

I will ask the driver to take me
to the Sunrise River,
where I removed your blue raincoat,
my red silk gown sliding down
like rose petals coiled in moonlight.

情人节

这是早春，
夜雾降临，
树零星可见。


看着狭窄的街道，
我给你写着情书－
烛光温馨四溢，
玫瑰芳香清新，
一袭红丝绸晚装的我，
等着那纯正口音的绅士。

可我不说他的语言，
却对着一扎纸片倾诉－
那些我们品尝过的红酒，
倾听的音乐，
以及欣赏的书籍
和雨自你的屋顶滴下。

我失眠在二十年前你乘坐的公车上。
我要坐在你的座位上，
看着窗外，漆黑的夜色。

我会请司机载我去往日升河，
在那儿你蓝色的雨衣脱落，
而我红丝绸的晚装滑落
如同月光下堆起的玫瑰花瓣。

 
In your email, you mention the celebration;
dancing, singing and other activities prepare the important moment.
My fingers type the only word, "Nostalgia",
again and again from the east coast of the Pacific Ocean.
I hope to send it in no time.
Yet, the moon shines on my blue passport;
the shore on the west end is out of the reach.
Still I imagine my hands rise with a solemn oath
and the five-stars-red flag flies with my leaping heart.
Then I recognize:
Absence is an enormous pain.

The returned friends say the events
are the same, forever stunning.
Their mood is cheered up even though they notice
the sky of Toronto is always clearer. No surprise.
The gray skyline there is still dim under rows of red flags.
I pretend that is the excuse for my absence.
However, whatever it is; I wish to be
the one of the audience
who stand up for their motherland,
and applaud with sincerity.
At such moment, we don't think of bad news of daily life,
the dropping line of stocks, and the pollution index in the air;
together, we applaud and applaud.

由庆典说起

在电邮里你提到庆典，欢歌劲舞以及更多的活动
预备着重要的时刻。
在太平洋的东岸，我的手指一次次敲出乡思两个字。
我很想现在就发送，只是月亮照在我幽蓝的护照本上，
遥远的彼岸何以抵达？
我想象着宣誓的手举起来，宣言在
五星红旗的飘扬下，心情雀跃。
于此我深味：
缺席是一种无奈的伤痛。

回归的友人说着不变的
还是那些，永恒经典。
她们的语气被庆典的祥云中和，
哪怕多伦多的天空一向蓝于京城。
这没什么意外。
北京依然灰暗，尽管在红旗的彩排下。
我把这伪装成缺席的借口。
尽管如此，如此如此，
我还是想做个鼓掌的观众，为祖国起立，
为庆典喝彩。
这时候我们不会去想奶粉的消息，
股市的曲线，以及空气中的指数，
我们喝彩，掌声，掌声如潮。