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Kate Marshall
凯特-马歇尔

Kate Marshall has published four books of poetry. Her next book of poetry will be published by Guernica Editions in 2014. She is published in journals such as Descant, CV2, Freefall, and Vallum. She was short-listed for the Malahat Review Long Poem and Descant's Best Canadian Poem. She lives in Toronto with her husband and three children, where she guides yoga/retreats/writing workshops.

凯特-马歇尔已出版四本诗集。其诗发表在Descant, CV2, Freefall, and Vallum,入围Malahat Review的长诗诗歌赛和Descant 的加拿大最优秀的诗诗赛。她和丈夫及三个孩子住在多伦多,从事着瑜伽/静休/写作讲习。



译者
Translator


星子安娜
Anna Yin

星子安娜,Anna Yin中国湖南出生。99年移民加拿大,其英文诗多次获奖,其中包括 2005 年安省的“Ted Plantos 纪念奖”和2010 年和2013年 的“Martry文学奖“。星子著有五本诗集,包括《Wings Toward Sunlight》(2011)以及《Inhaling the Silence》(2013)。星子是加拿大诗人联盟安省代表,她工作和居住在安省的密西沙加。

Anna Yin was born in China and immigrated to Canada in 1999. Anna won the 2005 Ted Plantos Memorial Award, the 2010 MARTY Award, etc. She has published five books of poetry. Collections of her poetry Wings Toward Sunlight was published by Mosaic Press in 2011 and Inhaling the Silence was published in 2013. Anna is Ontario representative for the League of Canadian Poets. She works and lives in Mississauga, Ontario.

Silver Bridge

银桥

You remember seeing the Danforth bridge— strung with threads— an angel harp with you inside it like an astounded moth in a spider's web, or a bead in a dream catcher. You travel inside this threaded instrument on your way to violin lessons like you might be Jonah inspecting the whale's intercostals, or Noah's offspring revisiting the ribs of the arc. You ponder the workmanship of this half-mile of elaborate lines, taut on the frets of the bridge, and recall a Buddhist poem about a musician who spent his life stringing and un-stringing his lute, But never played. And you realize that this weave of silver filaments, this enticing spun silk glinting in the September sunlight Is a trap, a cage, a publicly-funded skein To prevent you from leaping to your death.

 

你记得看见丹福思桥—— 被银线牵引着—— 一个天使将你用竖琴围住 像一只在蜘蛛网里 被震惊的飞蛾, 或一粒珠子在梦的捕获者手里。 你在这丝线密绕的乐器里穿行 去往你的小提琴课路上 好像你会如约拿 检查鲸鱼的肋骨间隙, 或挪亚的后代 重新掂量方舟的梁骨。 你凝思这半英里 精密丝线的工艺, 绷紧在桥梁的音柱上, 想起一首禅诗 关于一个音乐家度过了一生 串起琵琶的琴弦又一一解开, 却从来没有弹过。 你意识到这银色的锦绣编织, 这样诱人的绢丝 在九月阳光下闪闪发光 是一个陷阱,一只牢笼,一袭由公家资助的绞纱 为了防止你 跃向死亡。

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