The Current Translation
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Poems by Zang Di / 臧棣.Tr. by Denis Mair |
Zang Di, born April 1964 in Beijing, holds a PhD in Literature from Beijing University, where he is currently a professor in the Chinese Department and a Research Fellow at the New Poetry Research Center. He is an editor of NEW POETRY CRITICSIM. In 1999-2000 he was a Visiting Scholar at U.C.Davis. In 2000 he received WRITER magazine's Poetry Prize. His important collections include RECORDS OF SWALLOW GARDEN, WIND BLOWS THE GRASS, FRESH THORNS. In 2005 he was named one of China's "Top Ten Young Poets." In 2006 he was named one of China's Top Ten Avant-Garde Poets of 1979-2005. In 2007 he was named one of China Top Ten Rising Poets. He was editor of SELECTED POETRY FROM BEIJING UNIVERSITY. He recently published a collection: BEIJING UNIVERSITY COLLECTIONS: 2005.
臧棣， 1964年4月出生在北京。北京大学文学博士。曾任中国新闻社记者。现为北京大学中文系副教授，北京大学新诗所研究员，《新诗评论》杂志编委。1999年至2000年任美国加州大学戴维斯校区访问学者。曾获《作家》杂志 2000年度诗歌奖。主要作品包括 《燕园纪事》、 《风吹草动》、《新鲜的荆棘》2005年10月，当选“中国当代十大杰出青年诗人”; 2006年8月，当选“1979-2005中国十大先锋诗人”。2007年4月，当选“中国十大新锐诗歌批评家”。2007年5月，当选 “当代十大新锐诗人” 。近期出版个人诗集《北大年选：2005诗歌》（2006年）。曾获《作家》杂志2000年度诗歌奖。
Association for Aesthetics without Compromise [−]
I kneel down, waiting to hear
An earthworm thin as a shoelace speak.
Rapeseed grows up to my knees, my bike lays nearby.
It seems there’s no more road to get lost from.
After coming of age, every person will tell you
They have never seen a talking earthworm.
This world is small enough already, but still
We haven’t found what you are really after.
Mr. Earthworm, do you know what
You are really longing for? The single stroke of your body
Looks so terribly small, as if you wish to invite us
To make bait of you.
Your long and thin body is suited to dancing a tango underground.
This is one more reason to respect you.
The patience I lavish on you even surpasses
The patience I put into daily life.
I don’t care what sex you are, if I ask you to be my muse,
Will you mind a poem so clean that no dirt clings?
August 2005
绝对审美协会
我蹲下来，我在等细得像鞋带的蚯蚓说话。 我的四周是没膝高的油菜地，
自行车放倒一边，我像是已无路可迷。 成年后，每个人都声言
他们没见过会说话的蚯蚓。 这世界已足够小了，但我们还是
找不到你真正想要的东西。 蚯蚓先生，你知道你最渴望得到的
是什么吗？你身上的线 看上去太短小，就像是主动邀请我们
把你当成一个诱饵。 而你的身材细长，很适合在地下跳探戈。
这也是我尊敬你的地方。 我为你准备的耐心甚至超过了
我为我的生活准备的耐心。 我不介意你的性别，假如我邀请你做我的诗神，
你会在意这首诗里干净得没有一点土吗？ 2005．8．
Love Plant [−]
It’s not like that, at all. Yet thumbprints of dew
Are indeed pressing down
On my green chest. My back is a garden plot
For a few butterflies. Birdsong filters through trees; that plangent mainspring
Trills awake more and more blades of grass
And hones needles we can recognize
But do not understand the use of. Amid branch-tips the nest is a dark shape
Resembling the royal crown from a republic
That has since disappeared. Ah, life-force
Destiny allows no substitute. Across the beer gut of a boulder
An elastic band of ants bears along
A skirt-hem of shadow. I have also learned
How to pass my handkerchief to the wind. The carving knife of sunlight
Continues work that moonlight could not finish,
Tatooing my splayed-out body
With suggestive, erotic patterns. At a later hour two dragonflies
Trace a necklace above my cot.
In mid-flight they do things
We can only wish to do. “Where does one go to find
The smallest folding screen of summer?”
At the museum I overhear a couple on a date.
I don’t’ believe they said that for my benefit. I’m lying on my back, like a twisted-off bottle cap,
And pills from the bottle have all been gulped down.
Let me put it even more simply: from beginning to end
I am the leafy part of your body.
的确正向下按着
我绿色的胸脯。我的背部
是几只蝴蝶的菜园。 鸟鸣传来，那清脆的发条
把更多的青草唤醒，
并磨成我们只能认出
却不知道如何使用的针。 枝杈间，黝黑的巢
像一个已经消失了的理想国
留下的皇冠。生机啊，
你注定没有别的替身。 石头的啤酒肚上
黑蚂蚁的松紧带正提着
阴影的衬裙。我也学会了
如何把我的手绢递给风。 阳光的小刻刀
继续着月光没有完成的工作，
在我舒展的身上纹着
稍稍带点色情的图案。 而晚些时辰，两只蜻蜓
将它们的项链放在
我的小行军床上。它们在飞行中
做我们想做而无法做到的事情。 夏天最小的屏风
究竟在哪里呢？我听见
两个在美术馆里约会的人这样问。
我不认为他们是见过我后才这样说的。 我仰面躺着，像一个被拧下的瓶盖，
而瓶子里的药片已被吃光。
我也可以更简单：自始至终
我是你身上的叶子。 1999.5
Are indeed pressing down
On my green chest. My back is a garden plot
For a few butterflies. Birdsong filters through trees; that plangent mainspring
Trills awake more and more blades of grass
And hones needles we can recognize
But do not understand the use of. Amid branch-tips the nest is a dark shape
Resembling the royal crown from a republic
That has since disappeared. Ah, life-force
Destiny allows no substitute. Across the beer gut of a boulder
An elastic band of ants bears along
A skirt-hem of shadow. I have also learned
How to pass my handkerchief to the wind. The carving knife of sunlight
Continues work that moonlight could not finish,
Tatooing my splayed-out body
With suggestive, erotic patterns. At a later hour two dragonflies
Trace a necklace above my cot.
In mid-flight they do things
We can only wish to do. “Where does one go to find
The smallest folding screen of summer?”
At the museum I overhear a couple on a date.
I don’t’ believe they said that for my benefit. I’m lying on my back, like a twisted-off bottle cap,
And pills from the bottle have all been gulped down.
Let me put it even more simply: from beginning to end
I am the leafy part of your body.
May 1999
爱情植物
不像。不像。但露水的拇指的确正向下按着
我绿色的胸脯。我的背部
是几只蝴蝶的菜园。 鸟鸣传来，那清脆的发条
把更多的青草唤醒，
并磨成我们只能认出
却不知道如何使用的针。 枝杈间，黝黑的巢
像一个已经消失了的理想国
留下的皇冠。生机啊，
你注定没有别的替身。 石头的啤酒肚上
黑蚂蚁的松紧带正提着
阴影的衬裙。我也学会了
如何把我的手绢递给风。 阳光的小刻刀
继续着月光没有完成的工作，
在我舒展的身上纹着
稍稍带点色情的图案。 而晚些时辰，两只蜻蜓
将它们的项链放在
我的小行军床上。它们在飞行中
做我们想做而无法做到的事情。 夏天最小的屏风
究竟在哪里呢？我听见
两个在美术馆里约会的人这样问。
我不认为他们是见过我后才这样说的。 我仰面躺着，像一个被拧下的瓶盖，
而瓶子里的药片已被吃光。
我也可以更简单：自始至终
我是你身上的叶子。 1999.5
A Few Reasons I Like Rimbaud [−]
Lan-bo…in his name there are blue waves,
Strange combination of love and hate
But not hurtful, in romantic undulations
…Ahh, like an optical phenomenon.
At any rate, I like a name to make sense for once—
I like the way they introduced him to us.
His fate was to be born in southern France
Then go to Paris, then to Brussels,
Then to London, then to desolate Africa,
To seek a sufficiency of sand.
They use water to wash things, but he
Used tons of sand to wash things.
I understand such doings and I find delight
In the part that sparkles.
I cannot be sure, had I been born
A century ago, if I would have treated him
As my brother in poetry. But I know
That I like him, because he said
Everyone is an artist.
The logic of his statement was simple:
Being a genius, he could see genius
In anyone. Perhaps it was latent
Or maybe just nameless. His rallying cry
Was forthright yet complex: “What? Eternity.”
Oddly enough, getting ready for bed at night,
I sometimes feel he was spouting nonsense,
But waking at morning, bathing in
The new day’s pristine light, I realize
He had the gift of prophecy.
奇异的爱恨交加，
但不伤人。浪漫起伏着，
噢，犹如一种光学现象。
至少，我喜欢这样的特例——
喜欢他们这样把他介绍过来。
他命定要出生在法国南部，
然后去巴黎，去布鲁塞尔，
去伦敦，去荒凉的非洲
寻找足够的沙子。
他们用水洗东西，而他
用成吨的沙子洗东西。
我理解这些，并喜爱
其中闪光的部分。
我不能确定，如果早生
一百年，我是否会认他作
诗歌上的兄弟。但我知道
我喜欢他，因为他说
每个人都是艺术家。
他使用的逻辑非常简单：
由于他是天才，他也在每个人身上
看到了天才。要么是潜在的，
要么是无名的。他的呼吁
简洁但是复杂：“什么？永恒。”
有趣的是，晚上睡觉时，
我偶尔会觉得他是在胡扯。
而早上醒来，沐浴在
晨光的清新中，我又意识到
他的确有先见之明。 2002．11．高雄
Strange combination of love and hate
But not hurtful, in romantic undulations
…Ahh, like an optical phenomenon.
At any rate, I like a name to make sense for once—
I like the way they introduced him to us.
His fate was to be born in southern France
Then go to Paris, then to Brussels,
Then to London, then to desolate Africa,
To seek a sufficiency of sand.
They use water to wash things, but he
Used tons of sand to wash things.
I understand such doings and I find delight
In the part that sparkles.
I cannot be sure, had I been born
A century ago, if I would have treated him
As my brother in poetry. But I know
That I like him, because he said
Everyone is an artist.
The logic of his statement was simple:
Being a genius, he could see genius
In anyone. Perhaps it was latent
Or maybe just nameless. His rallying cry
Was forthright yet complex: “What? Eternity.”
Oddly enough, getting ready for bed at night,
I sometimes feel he was spouting nonsense,
But waking at morning, bathing in
The new day’s pristine light, I realize
He had the gift of prophecy.
November 2002 Kaohsiung
我喜爱蓝波的几个理由
他的名字里有蓝色的波浪，奇异的爱恨交加，
但不伤人。浪漫起伏着，
噢，犹如一种光学现象。
至少，我喜欢这样的特例——
喜欢他们这样把他介绍过来。
他命定要出生在法国南部，
然后去巴黎，去布鲁塞尔，
去伦敦，去荒凉的非洲
寻找足够的沙子。
他们用水洗东西，而他
用成吨的沙子洗东西。
我理解这些，并喜爱
其中闪光的部分。
我不能确定，如果早生
一百年，我是否会认他作
诗歌上的兄弟。但我知道
我喜欢他，因为他说
每个人都是艺术家。
他使用的逻辑非常简单：
由于他是天才，他也在每个人身上
看到了天才。要么是潜在的，
要么是无名的。他的呼吁
简洁但是复杂：“什么？永恒。”
有趣的是，晚上睡觉时，
我偶尔会觉得他是在胡扯。
而早上醒来，沐浴在
晨光的清新中，我又意识到
他的确有先见之明。 2002．11．高雄
No-Name Lake [−]
Here find acceptance, from small things to “not for the likes of us.”
Deep places in the cosmos do not fuss with victory and defeat.
I will not obstruct your soaring lessons, in fact it pleases me
To watch you taking wing. This is spoken from the heart.
Before I came down from the trees I wanted to tell you.
Yes, there is no life to live in the trees, just a position.
The field of view is not bad, but can be narrow.
I will not argue issues with you up in a tree.
I know you need peace more than I do.
Falling leaves have their styles of drifting, but whether you magnify
Or reduce, they boil down to a life of coquettish games.
I’m king-sized, like an ego that contains a strong illusion,
But not hurtful. It just tries for a rhythm fit for a labyrinth.
We have come to a climax, there is really no telling now
If you are ready to greet a divine being
Infinitely open to you: left to right, top to bottom,
Non-being to being, prior to post-, outside to in.
In fact it does not matter if you are absent,
Since every person who loves too hard will encounter
The god that he or she would wish for.
Yes, nothing has been screened from you, but this little lake
Is by no means naked. If you truly have a secret
In the end you will agree with this arrangement.
宇宙深处才不讲究胜负呢。
我不会阻拦你练习飞翔，其实我喜欢
看你展翅的样子。这是心里话，
还没从树上下来的时候，我就想对你说了。
是的，树上没有生活，只有
一个位置，视野不错，但很狭小。
我不会在树上和你争论问题的，
因为你比我其实更需要安静。
落叶里已有各种漂泊，但无论是放大它
还是缩小它，都不过是向生活撒娇。
我高大如自我里有一个强烈的幻觉，
但不伤人。它只试图配合迷宫的节拍。
我们已来到高潮，我其实拿不准
你是否已准备好迎接一个神
对你的无限敞开：从左到右，从上到下，
从无到有，从前到后，从外到里。
其实，你即使不在场也没有关系。
因为爱得太深时，每个人都会遭遇到
他或她心目中的一个神。
是的，对你已毫不遮拦，但这小湖
并不赤裸。假如你真有一个秘密，
你终会同意这种安排的。 1994．9． 1997．5．
Deep places in the cosmos do not fuss with victory and defeat.
I will not obstruct your soaring lessons, in fact it pleases me
To watch you taking wing. This is spoken from the heart.
Before I came down from the trees I wanted to tell you.
Yes, there is no life to live in the trees, just a position.
The field of view is not bad, but can be narrow.
I will not argue issues with you up in a tree.
I know you need peace more than I do.
Falling leaves have their styles of drifting, but whether you magnify
Or reduce, they boil down to a life of coquettish games.
I’m king-sized, like an ego that contains a strong illusion,
But not hurtful. It just tries for a rhythm fit for a labyrinth.
We have come to a climax, there is really no telling now
If you are ready to greet a divine being
Infinitely open to you: left to right, top to bottom,
Non-being to being, prior to post-, outside to in.
In fact it does not matter if you are absent,
Since every person who loves too hard will encounter
The god that he or she would wish for.
Yes, nothing has been screened from you, but this little lake
Is by no means naked. If you truly have a secret
In the end you will agree with this arrangement.
September 1994/ May 1997
未名湖
接纳你，从小处到不胜寒，宇宙深处才不讲究胜负呢。
我不会阻拦你练习飞翔，其实我喜欢
看你展翅的样子。这是心里话，
还没从树上下来的时候，我就想对你说了。
是的，树上没有生活，只有
一个位置，视野不错，但很狭小。
我不会在树上和你争论问题的，
因为你比我其实更需要安静。
落叶里已有各种漂泊，但无论是放大它
还是缩小它，都不过是向生活撒娇。
我高大如自我里有一个强烈的幻觉，
但不伤人。它只试图配合迷宫的节拍。
我们已来到高潮，我其实拿不准
你是否已准备好迎接一个神
对你的无限敞开：从左到右，从上到下，
从无到有，从前到后，从外到里。
其实，你即使不在场也没有关系。
因为爱得太深时，每个人都会遭遇到
他或她心目中的一个神。
是的，对你已毫不遮拦，但这小湖
并不赤裸。假如你真有一个秘密，
你终会同意这种安排的。 1994．9． 1997．5．
“Happy Birthday” Book Series [−]
Today is your birthday. The world as big as all outdoors
Has you in it, as if you were a green plum
In its mouth. Stick around awhile
For your turn at reddish-green. Give it ten thousand years
It will come around to white and black. As for gifts
If you want them offered to one’s spirit, then the best way
Is to put them in bottles. A brass trumpet,
Quicker of wit than a calendar, with little trouble
Rousts bronze-age dawn from its cave.
A morning flower market is beneath puffy clouds.
Above and below, things are particular about their looks.
Matters are not over yet: the drizzling rain
Reports for duty on the eaves of a baker’s shop.
Green leaves stretching themselves release
The new order of summer. Down a few avenues
The skirt-edge of your days trails quietly——
As if with a loose grip, all at once, a fresh breeze
Could blow those held-back cards onto our table.
Crows provoke black disputes, fly from trees
Onto a high-voltage line, rebuke a row of apartments.
That’s how prelude and interlude get jumbled, so let it be.
As for how to wake up, just like you
I also have many bygone things to talk about.
世界含着你，就好像你是
它嘴里的一颗青梅。呆一会儿
才轮得着青红，过一万年
才会有皂白。至于礼物，
如果坚持要送给心灵，还是
装在瓶子里最合适。金色小号
倒是比日历更机灵，它几乎不费力，
就将青铜的黎明从洞穴里吹出。
云彩的下面就是鲜花的早市，
上上下下都很注意形象。
事情还没有完：毛毛雨
在小面包店的屋檐下报到。
绿叶的小懒腰释放着
夏天的新秩序。几条长街，
默默地拽着日子的裙边——
仿佛稍一松手，一阵微风
就能把生活的底牌吹到地面上。
乌鸦挑起黑色的争端，从树上
飞到高压线上，冲着一排公寓训话。
让插曲和序曲就这么混在一起上吧。
关于如何醒来，和你一样，
我也有很多往事要说。 2006．7． 东京
Has you in it, as if you were a green plum
In its mouth. Stick around awhile
For your turn at reddish-green. Give it ten thousand years
It will come around to white and black. As for gifts
If you want them offered to one’s spirit, then the best way
Is to put them in bottles. A brass trumpet,
Quicker of wit than a calendar, with little trouble
Rousts bronze-age dawn from its cave.
A morning flower market is beneath puffy clouds.
Above and below, things are particular about their looks.
Matters are not over yet: the drizzling rain
Reports for duty on the eaves of a baker’s shop.
Green leaves stretching themselves release
The new order of summer. Down a few avenues
The skirt-edge of your days trails quietly——
As if with a loose grip, all at once, a fresh breeze
Could blow those held-back cards onto our table.
Crows provoke black disputes, fly from trees
Onto a high-voltage line, rebuke a row of apartments.
That’s how prelude and interlude get jumbled, so let it be.
As for how to wake up, just like you
I also have many bygone things to talk about.
July 2006 Tokyo
生日快乐丛书
今天是你的生日。天大的世界含着你，就好像你是
它嘴里的一颗青梅。呆一会儿
才轮得着青红，过一万年
才会有皂白。至于礼物，
如果坚持要送给心灵，还是
装在瓶子里最合适。金色小号
倒是比日历更机灵，它几乎不费力，
就将青铜的黎明从洞穴里吹出。
云彩的下面就是鲜花的早市，
上上下下都很注意形象。
事情还没有完：毛毛雨
在小面包店的屋檐下报到。
绿叶的小懒腰释放着
夏天的新秩序。几条长街，
默默地拽着日子的裙边——
仿佛稍一松手，一阵微风
就能把生活的底牌吹到地面上。
乌鸦挑起黑色的争端，从树上
飞到高压线上，冲着一排公寓训话。
让插曲和序曲就这么混在一起上吧。
关于如何醒来，和你一样，
我也有很多往事要说。 2006．7． 东京
Comic Actors Association [−]
I am taking my monkey for a walk,
But each time, I have to heed its wish
And let it choose a road to take. Strange to say
It prefers roads that extend westward…
Its body seems to have been equipped
With a positioning system for bananas and peaches. I almost always follow behind him.
He lacks familiarity with our world.
He often treats me like a tree, wraps his arms around me.
He frightens easily, his eyes blink frequently
Like beads of liquid mercury rolling about. Of course I am his master, this is a point
That hardly needs proving, but the minute we step outside
I soon feel a touch of chagrin…
Much of the time, I seem more like his attendant.
While strolling along, at any hint of something natural
He gives me the slip, like a puff of ash flung away. I am not jealous that he is better than me
At dealing with natural things. He is quite sensitive, as if
My life with you were definitely related to him.
He can do laughable things. One day he went so far
As to dig out something I wrote for you and throw it into a stewpot. That seems to be a way he has
To show his feelings. Picking his name took a bit of doing.
He seemed to disdain the names usually used for monkeys.
Like a prosecutor he stared at me, until finally
I gave him the name “swan,” which he answered to, and so
One could say, each day, I take my swan for a walk.
但每一次，我都不得不听任它
选择它想走的路。很奇怪，
它喜欢向西延伸的路——
它身体里像是装有一个探测
香蕉和水蜜桃的定位系统。 我几乎总是跟在它的身后。
它对我们的世界还很不习惯。
它经常会把我当成树干搂得紧紧的。
它很容易受惊，它的两只眼睛
频繁地眨动，像滚落在地上的水银珠。 我当然是它的主人，这一点
几乎不用证明。而一旦走出屋门，
我很快就会感到一丝难堪——
很多时候，我更像是它的跟班。
在散步途中，但凡有一点自然的迹象，
它就会挣脱我，像一团撒出去的灰。 我并不嫉妒它比我更善于
和自然打交道。它很敏感，就仿佛
我和你的生活确实与它有关。
它会做很多可笑的事。有一次，它竟然
把我给你写的信翻出来，放在炖锅里。 那似乎是它表达感情的
一种方式。给它取名字，颇费了我一番工夫。
它看不上以往那些为猴子准备的名字。
它就像一个公诉人盯着我，直到最后
我给他起名叫天鹅，他才回应我。所以，
也不妨说，每天，我是带着我的天鹅在散步。 2005．8．
But each time, I have to heed its wish
And let it choose a road to take. Strange to say
It prefers roads that extend westward…
Its body seems to have been equipped
With a positioning system for bananas and peaches. I almost always follow behind him.
He lacks familiarity with our world.
He often treats me like a tree, wraps his arms around me.
He frightens easily, his eyes blink frequently
Like beads of liquid mercury rolling about. Of course I am his master, this is a point
That hardly needs proving, but the minute we step outside
I soon feel a touch of chagrin…
Much of the time, I seem more like his attendant.
While strolling along, at any hint of something natural
He gives me the slip, like a puff of ash flung away. I am not jealous that he is better than me
At dealing with natural things. He is quite sensitive, as if
My life with you were definitely related to him.
He can do laughable things. One day he went so far
As to dig out something I wrote for you and throw it into a stewpot. That seems to be a way he has
To show his feelings. Picking his name took a bit of doing.
He seemed to disdain the names usually used for monkeys.
Like a prosecutor he stared at me, until finally
I gave him the name “swan,” which he answered to, and so
One could say, each day, I take my swan for a walk.
August 2005
喜剧演员协会
我带着我的猴子散步，但每一次，我都不得不听任它
选择它想走的路。很奇怪，
它喜欢向西延伸的路——
它身体里像是装有一个探测
香蕉和水蜜桃的定位系统。 我几乎总是跟在它的身后。
它对我们的世界还很不习惯。
它经常会把我当成树干搂得紧紧的。
它很容易受惊，它的两只眼睛
频繁地眨动，像滚落在地上的水银珠。 我当然是它的主人，这一点
几乎不用证明。而一旦走出屋门，
我很快就会感到一丝难堪——
很多时候，我更像是它的跟班。
在散步途中，但凡有一点自然的迹象，
它就会挣脱我，像一团撒出去的灰。 我并不嫉妒它比我更善于
和自然打交道。它很敏感，就仿佛
我和你的生活确实与它有关。
它会做很多可笑的事。有一次，它竟然
把我给你写的信翻出来，放在炖锅里。 那似乎是它表达感情的
一种方式。给它取名字，颇费了我一番工夫。
它看不上以往那些为猴子准备的名字。
它就像一个公诉人盯着我，直到最后
我给他起名叫天鹅，他才回应我。所以，
也不妨说，每天，我是带着我的天鹅在散步。 2005．8．