夏菁，是盛志澄的笔名，浙江嘉兴人．美国科罗拉多州立大学硕士，曾任联合国专家及科罗拉多教授等职。夏菁是台湾 “蓝星诗社” 创始人之一，是《诗天空》双语季刊顾问。自1954年出版第一本诗集起，已有九种，包括近年出版的《雪岭》(2003)和《夏菁短诗选》(2004)等。另出版有散文四种。其诗文，近年来常在美国、台湾、香港中文报纸及期刊发表。夏菁现居科罗拉多州的可临视堡。

Hsia Ching, the pen name of Ted (Tse) C. Sheng, was born in Zhejiang, China in 1925. He received his M.S. degree from the Colorado State University (1966) and has worked with the United Nations and taught at the Colorado State University. Hsia Ching was one of the founders of the Blue Stars Poetry Society in Taiwan in early Fifties. Since his first collection of poems published in 1954, he has produced a total of nine volumes of poems including the recent two: A Snow-capped Peak (2003) and Selected Poems of Hsia Ching (2004).

与佛劳斯特同坐

Sitting with Robert Frost

2010 年6 月底，得缘参观 Colorado Academy, 邂逅一尊诗人
Robert Frost 的坐像。起初我恭立在旁，后来坐在他身边，
发现他手中写的是名诗：「The Road Not Taken」(未竟的路) 。
摄影留念，并志其事


五十年前好友送给我，你的签名集
珍藏迄今。过了两年我造访华盛顿
听说你每一次从乡下进京
那座五百呎的高塔也点头致敬

我读过、译过、也宣扬过你的作品
向往一生。却从未和你如此接近
现在可以拥抱你，和你并肩而坐
可以面询你诗中的暗喻和象征

你老当益壮，曾写诗调侃死亡
在这里你却如此地潇洒和年轻
我想：诗人不会老去，只是退隐
离世时还带了一颗童真的心

现在我们俩紧紧地靠在一起
你听到我的心跳，我看你握笔凝神
不一刻我们就东西睽离，只留下
一个永恒的你，和几张摄影

今朝我未曾好好地准备和梳理
忽在此和你邂逅，感到腼腆和不敬
在你的面前，我和我的诗都似你所说
像刚出土的马铃薯，生涩而未洗淨

你是不朽的青铜，我乃渐衰的肉身
一株东方的水仙，一尊诗国的永恆
你曾感叹: 有一条叉路，未曾走过
我因同时走两条：一条也未走竟
			

Last June I had a chance to visit Colorado Academy and
 encountered a sitting statue of Robert Frost. At first, I
stood up to pay my respect and then I sit by his side
 and noticed that he was writing his famous poem:
"The Road Not taken."


Fifty years ago a friend gave your signed anthology to me
I’ve treasured it. Two years later I visited Washington D. C.
And heard that every time you come to the nation’s capital
The five hundred tall monument would nod and bow

I have read, translated, and introduced your work all along
And aspired to your work all life long. Yet I’ve never been so near to you
Now, I can embrace you and rub shoulders with you
Or ask metaphors and symbols from your poems 

You wrote vigorously at an old age and even mocked Death
But here you are, looking so young, cool and elegant
That makes me think: Poets never die: they only retreat
Even at death, they carry along a young and childish heart

Now we are closely sitting together. You are hearing
My heart beat and I am watching your attentive writing
After a short while we will depart. What will remain is
An eternal of you together with several picture images 

This morning I have neither tidied up nor prepared  
For our encounter here. I feel uneasy and disrespected  
In front of you, both my poems and myself are like 
Raw and dirty potatoes, as you once said

You are a immortal bronze while I am flesh now weakened 
An oriental daffodil against an eternal of the poetic kingdom
You have lamented that there was a road not taken 
I took two roads simultaneously, neither has been walked to its end.