北岛 (Bei Dao)

回答

卑鄙是卑鄙者的通行证，
高尚是高尚者的墓志铭，
看吧，在那镀金的天空中，
飘满了死者弯曲的倒影。

冰川纪过去了，
为什么到处都是冰凌？
好望角发现了，
为什么死海里千帆相竞？

我来到这个世界上，
只带着纸、绳索和身影，
为了在审判之前，
宣读那些被判决的声音。

告诉你吧，世界
我--不--相--信！
纵使你脚下有一千名挑战者，
那就把我算作第一千零一名。

我不相信天是蓝的，
我不相信雷的回声，
我不相信梦是假的，
我不相信死无报应。

如果海洋注定要决堤，
就让所有的苦水都注入我心中，
如果陆地注定要上升，
就让人类重新选择生存的峰顶。

新的转机和闪闪星斗，
正在缀满没有遮拦的天空。
那是五千年的象形文字，
那是未来人们凝视的眼睛。

Answers

Cruelty is the ID pass of the cruel,
honesty the grave stone of the honest.
Look, in the sky plated gold,
crooked reflections of all the dead float around.

The glacial epoch is over,
so why is there ice everywhere?
Good Hope was rounded a long time ago,
so where are these thousands of boats racing on the Dead Sea?

I came into this world
with only blank pages, rope and my fingers;
therefore, before final judgements are given,
I need to speak in all the voices of the defendants.

Just let me say, world,
I--don't--believe!
If a thousand challengers are under your feet
count me as challenger one-thousand-and-one.

I don't believe the sky is always blue;
I don't believe it was thunder echoing;
I don't believe all dreaming is false;
I don't believe the dead cannot bring judgement.

If the sea is doomed someday to break its levees
my heart must flood with all the bitter waters.
If the land is destined to form the hills again,
let real human beings learn to choose the higher ground.

The latest, favorable turnings, the twinkling stars
studding the naked sky,
are pictographs five-thousand years old.
They are the eyes of the future staring at us now.

古寺

消失的钟声
结成蛛网，在裂缝的柱子里
扩散成一圈圈年轮
没有记忆，石头
空蒙的山谷里传播回声的
石头，没有记忆
当小路绕开这里的时候
龙和怪鸟也飞走了
从房檐上带走喑哑的铃铛
荒草一年一度
生长，那么漠然
不在乎它们屈从的主人
是僧侣的布鞋，还是风
石碑残缺，上面的文字已经磨损
仿佛只有在一场大火之中
才能辨认，也许
会随着一道生者的目光
乌龟在泥土中复活
驮着沉重的秘密，爬出门槛

An Ancient Temple

The long ago songs of a bell
weaved this spider web; in the column's crevices,
grown outward, one sees annual rings there for the counting.
No memories are here; stones
that merely scattered the echoes in this mountain valley,
have no memories.
That little path, even, by-passed it;
its dragons and strange birds are gone.
They took with them the silent bells that hung from the eaves.
They took the unrecorded legends of the place, too.
The words on the walls are all worn clean and torn.
Maybe if it caught on fire
one could read the words on the inside.
See the annual growths of the wild grasses,
so indifferent.
They don't care if they submit to any master,
to the shoes of the old monks,
or to the winds, either.
Out front the sky is held up by a broken stone tablet.
Still, led by the gaze of some living person,
the tortoise may revive and
come out carrying his heavy secret,
crawl right out there on the temple's threshold.

局外人

一代人如帷幕落下
下一代人在鼓掌
　　
置身于暗处的人
你经历的时间
正得到重视
摸索，于是有光
让一半生命空出来
充满鹤鸣
　　
有人在病中游泳
当秋风察看
幼兽小小的脾气
道路加入睡眠
在打败你的光线中
你坚守无名栅栏

Outsider

one generation drops like a curtain
the next is applauding

the lifetime you've known
hiding in dark places
starts gaining attention
groping, hence light
letting half a life empty out
and fill with crane song

someone's swimming in sickness
as autumn wind inspects
the small temperaments of young animals
the road joins sleep
and in radiant light that's defeated you
you stand fast at the nameless fence

使命

牧师在祷告中迷路
一扇通风窗
开向另一个时代
逃亡者在翻墙
　　
气喘嘘嘘的词在引发
作者的心脏病
深呼吸，更深些
抓住和北风辩论的
槐树的根
　　
夏天到了
树冠是地下告密者
低语是被蜂群蜇伤的
红色睡眠
不，一场风暴

Mission

The priest gets lost in prayer
an air shaft
leads to another era:
escapees climb over the wall

panting words evoke
the author’s heart trouble
breathe deep, deeper
grab the locust tree roots
that debate the north wind

summer has arrived
the treetop is an informer
murmurs are a reddish sleep
stung by a swarm of bees
no,  a storm

送报

谁相信面具的哭泣
谁相信哭泣的国家
国家失去记忆
记忆成为早晨
　　
送报的孩子从早晨出发
凄厉的小号响遍全城
是你的不幸还是我的不幸
神经脆弱的蔬菜啊
农民们把手栽进地里
盼望抓住金条的好年景
政客在自己舌头上
撒着胡椒粉
而桦树林正在讨论
是捐躯于艺术还是门
　　
这个公共的早晨
被送报的孩子所创造
一场革命掠过街头
他睡了

Delivering Newspapers

Who believes in the mask’s weeping?
who believes in the weeping nation?
the nation has lost its memory
memory goes as far as this morning

the newspaper boy sets out in the morning
all over town the sound of a desolate trumpet
is it your bad omen or mine?
vegetables with fragile nerves
peasants plant their hands in the ground
longing for the gold of a good harvest
politicians sprinkle pepper
on their own tongues
and a stand of birches in the midst of a debate:
whether to sacrifice themselves for art or doors

this public morning
created by a paperboy
revolution sweeps past the corner
he’s fast asleep

陌生的海滩

1
风帆垂落。

桅杆，这冬天的树木，
带来了意外的春光。
2
冬天的废墟，
缅怀着逝去的光芒。

你靠着残存的阶梯，
在生锈的栏杆上，
敲出一个个单调的声响。
3
正午的庄严中，
阴影在选择落脚的地方。
所有的角落，
盐粒凝结昔日的寒冷，
和一闪一闪的回忆之光。
4
远方
白茫茫。

水平线
这浮动的甲板，
撒下多少安眠的网？
5
头巾，
那只红色的鸟，
在日本海上飞翔。
火焰的反光，
把和你分离的影子，
投向不属于任何人的天幕上。

没有风暴就够了，
然而也没有固定的风向，
也许是为了回答召唤。
翅膀发出弓的鸣响。
6
落潮
层层叠叠，
在金色的地毯上，
吐下泛着泡沫的夜晚，
松散的缆绳，折断的桨。

渔民们弯着光裸的脊背，
修建着风暴中倒塌的庙堂。
7
孩子们追逐着一弯新月。

一只海鸥迎面扑来，
却没有落在你伸出的手上。

An Unfamiliar Beach

1
The sails have been lowered.

A winter forest of masts
contains unexpected sights and sounds of Spring.

2
The ruins of a lighthouse
still hold the great beams from the past.

You lean on the remaining stairs,
on the rusted banisters,
beating the same rhythm over and over.

3
In the dignity of high noon
our shadows look for temporary lodging.

All over the place
salt rock glistens, condensed and
sparkling with memories.

4
In the distance
there is a vast, white expanse.

The blue horizon
is like a moving deck.
How many nets have been cast?

5
A scarf,
like a red bird,
waves over the Sea of Japan.
It flings its imitation of fire
at this grey end of the world,
and at your fixed gaze.
An absence of storms is fine,
but there is also no direction and no wind.
Perhaps in answer to a call,
its wings thrum like a bowstring.

6
The ebbing tide
wave after wave,
spills on a golden carpet,
spills a night suffused with foam,
a lost rope, a broken oar.

Fishermen bend their naked backs
and repair the temple the storm collapsed.

7
Children chase a crescent moon.

A sea gull flies right for you,
but doesnt light on your outstretched hand.

过夜

一条河把鳟鱼带到盘中
烧酒兄弟和高梁父亲
留我过夜，玻璃
有凶手的皱纹
　　
旅馆接待员盯着我
我听到他心脏的杂音
那心脏忽明忽暗
照亮登记表
　　
光滑的大理石上
钢琴曲走调
电梯把哈欠变成叫喊
穿过灯光的泡沫
　　
风从舒展的袖子
亮出铁事

Spending the Night

A river brings a trout to the plate
brother alcohol and father sorghum
ask me to spend the night, the glass
has the wrinkles of a murderer

the hotel clerk stares at me
I hear his arrhythmic heart
that heart now bright now dim
lighting the registration form

on the glossy marble
the piano goes out of tune
the elevator turns a yawn into a scream
as it cuts through lamplit foam

coming out of its sleeve
the wind bares an iron fist

我们

失魂落魄
提着灯笼追赶春天
　　
伤疤发亮，杯子转动
光线被创造
看那迷人的时刻：
盗贼潜入邮局
信发出叫喊
　　
钉子啊钉子
这歌词不可更改
木柴紧紧搂在一起
寻找听众
　　
寻找冬天的心
河流尽头
船夫等待着茫茫暮色
　　
必有人重写爱情

We

lost souls and scattered spirits
holdings lanterns chase spring

scars shimmer, cups revolve
light's being created
look at that enchanting moment
a thief steals into a post office
letters cry out

nails o nails
the lyrics never change
firewood huddles together
searching for an audience to listen
searching for the heart of winter
river's end
a boatman awaiting boundless twilight

there must be some one to rewrite love

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