梁晓明，1963年生于上海。1981年开始写诗。94年获《人民文学》诗歌奖。现居杭州。

Xiaoming Liang, born in 1963 in Shanghai, began writing poetry in 1981. In 1994 he won The People's Literature Poetry Award. He lives in Hangzhou.

Poet and translator. He is a co-translator of Frontier Taiwan(Columbia). His book of poems Man Cut in Wood was published by Valley Contemporary Press in 2003. He has lectured on the I CHING at the Temple School of Poetry (Walla Walla).

诗人和中英文翻译。 曾翻译了很多中国现代诗人的作品介绍给美国的诗坛，曾任美国西北部诗刊《诗庙》的编辑。他是美国哥伦比亚大学出版社出版的有关台湾的“前沿”一书的翻译者之一。他还曾在《寺庙》创办的诗人学校里讲课。他的个人诗集《刻在木头里的人》2003年由美国当代山谷出版社出版。

诗歌

Poetry

诗歌沿着我两条眉毛向后脑发展
诗歌拥抱我每一根头发
在每一块头皮上它撒下谷种
诗歌在我的鼻孔里醒来
醒来就迅速张起蓬帆
顺流而下
诗歌冲破我的嘴唇
可以听到鸟声和太阳
云彩向波浪打招呼的声音

诗歌翻山越岭找到我的手脚
它穿过天空发现我的眼睛
明亮象一块少见的玻璃
甚至照出了他的胡须
它两鬓斑白为了今天
有一张喉咙好安排它露面

诗歌流着泪靠在我肩膀上
诗歌站在我耳朵上歌唱
			

Poetry unfolds along my eyebrows, back to where I can’t see
Poetry owns every hair on my head 
It plants wheat on every inch of my scalp
Poetry wakens in my nostrils
Wide awake it raises a sail of jute
And heads downstream
When poetry charges through my lips
You hear birdcalls and sunshine
Sounds of clouds greeting waves

Poetry crosses rough terrain to find my feet
It passes through the sky to discover my eyes
Bright and clear as a piece of rare glass
Where its whiskers show in tiny reflections
Its temples flecked with white for today’s sake
Throat here and ready when it shows itself 

Poetry leans on my shoulder weeping
Poetry stands at my ear singing
			

各人

Each to Each

你和我各人各拿各人的杯子
我们各人各喝各的茶
我们微笑相互
点头很高雅
我们很卫生
各人说各人的事情
各人数各人的手指
各人发表意见
各人带走意见
最后
我们各人各走各的路

在门口我们握手
各人看着各人的眼睛
下楼梯的时候
如果你先走
我向你挥手
说再来
如果我先走
你也挥手
说慢走
然后我们各人
各披各人的雨衣
如果下雨
我们各自逃走
			

You and I each hold our own cups 
We each drink our own tea
We smile at each other
And nod with elegance
We are quite hygienic
Each person speaks of his own affairs
Each person counts on his own fingers
Each person expresses an opinion
Each person comes away with an opinion
And finally
They go their own way

In the doorway we shake hands
Each looking at the other’s eyes
At the head of the stairs
If you are going first
I wave to you
Say come again
If you are going first
You wave at me
Say don't hurry
And we each pull on our parkas
If rain is falling
We run off in our own directions
			

荡荡荡荡我躺在蓝天大床上

Boing Boing on the Bedsprings of the Sky

1．
拍拍城市的脸，点亮进攻的灯
看历史在墙壁上渐渐枯黄，我每次吃饭
都嚼着悲哀

闲暇把脚掌插在云彩与云彩中间，听
阳光水波耳边唱歌，看鸟翅膀
拍打姑娘翅膀

孤独生长大麦，光荣一撮茅草

今天岁月我曾经说笑，以后流水依然
说笑，夕阳傍晚被风吹掉，
清晨又被风吹成朝阳

2．
我和寂寞各自搬家，手扶一根孤独的甘蔗，
痛苦是一只月亮的手，淡淡从西方掠到东方
眼泪飞洒为南极没有一张我的风光。

愤怒为遐想打不开锁，菊花白白开放
我思想，我脸上的春天也落叶纷纷

跑到我前面的陶罐或者金钟大吕
或者羽扇纶巾或者翩翩拂尘

每天我在车兜上装着它们
我睡觉棉被下盖着它们

如果太平洋对岸有金属脸庞飞跃上天，我
这里左手腕也隐隐作痛

乌鸦城市垃圾嘴巴天空跌跌撞撞我
撩开衣襟让我的音乐
出外逃窜四散飘飞

这一刻，
大门打开我小门也不关，云、雾、雷、电、
风、霜、雨、雪、雹降日、月都从我后背
穿透到胸前

荡荡荡荡我躺在蓝天大床上
			

Give the city a pat on the cheek, light the lamps of aggression
Watch history turn yellow on the wall, with every meal
And gnaw at sorrow

Leisure plants my footsoles atop clouds and between them, listens
To sunlit waves sing at my ear, watches birds flap wings
That are wings of young women

Solitude grows wheat, honor a tuft of sawgrass
In passing years of today I once made merry, in the flow to come
I can still make merry

Late evening glow is blown away by wind
Windy dawn gives way to a bright morning

2.
Solitude and I move away to new houses, my weight 
Leans on a lone stalk of sugarcane. Suffering
Is a hand of moonlight, coursing aloof from west to east
Gush of teardrops make Antarctica, nowhere are features of me at my height 

Anger fails to spring the cage of reverie, chrysanthemums pale
To the cast of thought, the springtime of my face has leaves whirling down
 
Parade of clay pots before my eyes, or a scale of chimes
Or the scarf of a reluctant general, or swirl of dust brushed from his robe

I load them in my car trunk every day
I sleep with them under my cover

Across the Pacific if a metal face soars skyward, 
Over here my left wrist feels a twinge

Garbage-mouth city of crows, reeling in the sky

I pull my shirt open, for my music
Let it flee elsewhere, drift at its will

At this moment
My front door is open, my side door not closed
Cloud, mist, thunder, lightning, wind and sun and moon
All types of precipitation come from behind
Pass straight through my chest

This way and that on the bedsprings of the sky