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Yuan Liang
梁元

生于中国重庆,上小学时随父母移居上海。毕业于复旦大学,并分别在美国两所大学获得学位。诗天空诗人协会会员。著有诗集《四月的墙下》《时间的乡愁》。现居南加州。

Yuan Liang was born in Chongqing, China. He moved to Shanghai with his parents while he attended elementary school. He graduated from Fudan University and holds graduate degrees from two American universities. He is a member of PoetrySky Poets Association and he has published a book of poetry Beneath the Wall of April (2009) and Homesick of Time. He lives in Southern California.



译者
Translator


梁元
Yuan Liang

光环

A Ring of Light

银色的光环中 连衣裙在风中飘动 光环向前滚动 像一只孵化的蛋 薄薄的壳碎了 一只春燕从中飞出 这就是你的身世 你从一只燕子而来 飞过青砖黑瓦 在低矮的屋檐筑巢 伴着桔黄的烛光 和断续的书声 风在窗外越吹越响 烛光越来越弱 你的眼神黯淡下来 一只橘子刚刚被剥完 天井的竹椅,鱼篓,水缸 台阶一双黑布鞋 茶几上一盆兰花 仍在怀念消逝的脚步 推开木门的吱呀声里 阳光进屋,把烛影吞噬 椅背上的青绸衫 像要迎风站起来 到头来家居都是客旅   我们都是匆匆的路人 迎着岁月的风 燃尽自己的烛光    中秋的月夜 影子在不同的街上 走出共同的时光 像一只只瓷 杯 倒出昨日的陈茶 光环开始收紧,变小 萎缩成一个泡沫   消失在昨日的梦里 连衣裙在环中 化成青烟 晾衣绳上的手绢 轻轻地落下地 被风吹起 像一只飞燕

 

In the silver ring of light a skirt is waving in the wind The ring is rolling along like a hatched egg The thin shell is broken out flies a spring swallow  This is your origin   You are from a spring swallow flying over blue bricks and black tiles nesting under a low eave accompanying orange candlelight  and intermittent sounds of book reading The wind outside, the window is blowing louder and louder The candlelight is getting weaker and weaker Your glances are glooming An orange has been just peeled Bamboo chair, fish basket, and water vat in the courtyard A pair of black cloth shoes on the step A pot of orchids on the tea table are still thinking of vanished steps In the sound of a shoved wood door sunshine enters, swallowing candle shadows The blue silk shirt on the chair   seems to stand up in the breeze Eventually all homes are guest houses we are hasty travelers in the face of windy years burning out our own candlelight mid-autumn moonlit night shadows on different streets walk out the mutual time like porcelain cups pouring out the old tea of yesterday The ring of light begins to close and fade out shrinking to a bubble vanishing in the dreams of yesterday The skirt dissolves into blue smoke A handkerchief on the laundry rope droops down gently and flutters in the wind like a flying swallow

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