In 1943, Michael Palmer was born in New York City. He is the author of numerous books of poetry, including Thread (2011); Company of Moths (2005); The Promises of Glass (2000); At Passages (1996); Sun (1988); First Figure (1984); Notes for Echo Lake (1981). Palmer is frequently associated with Language Poetry.

帕默尔于1943年生于美国纽约市。他出版过多本诗集，包括：《线》（2011）；《飞蛾之伴》（2005）；《玻璃的允诺》（2000）；《通道处》（1996）；《太阳》（1988）；《最初的形象》（1984）；《回声湖笔记》（1981）。

冯冬，1979年生于重庆，南京大学英文系博士毕业，现任教于暨南大学，译有《未来是一只灰色海鸥：西尔维娅?普拉斯诗全集》（2013）、小说《蛛网与磐石》（2011）、游记《中华帝国纪行》（2006）等，在海内外诗刊发表作品，与友合著诗集《残酷的乌鸦》（2011），主要研究诗歌、精神分析和当代哲学。

Peter Feng was born in Chongqing, China, in 1979. He has received a Ph.D degree in literature from Nanjing University and currently teaches English at Jinan University. He has translated The Collected Poems of Sylvia Plath (2013), The Web and the Rock (2011), A Journey through the Chinese Empire (2006), and co-written a book of poems: Cruel Raven (2011). His study includes poetry, psychoanalysis, and contemporary philosophy.

Sun

太阳

Write this. We have burned all their villages

Write this. We have burned all the villages and the people in them

Write this. We have adopted their customs and their manner of dress

Write this. A word may be shaped like a bed, a basket of tears or an X

In the notebook it says, It is the time of mutations, laughter at jokes, secrets
beyond the boundaries of speech

I now turn to my use of suffixes and punctuation, closing Mr. Circle with
a single stroke, tearing the canvas from its wall, joined to her, experiencing
the same thoughts at the same moment, inscribing them on a loquat leaf

Write this. We have begun to have bodies, a now here and a now
gone, a past long ago and one still to come

Let go of me for I have died and am in a novel and was a lyric poet, cer-
tainly, who attracted crowds to mountaintops. For a nickel I will appear
from this box. For a dollar I will have text with you and answer three 
questions

First question. We entered the forest, followed its winding paths, and
emerged blind

Second question. My townhouse, of the Jugendstil, lies by Darmstadt

Third question. He knows he will wake from this dream, conducted in the 
mother-tongue

Third question. He knows his breathing organs are manipulated by God, 
so that he is compelled to scream

Third question. I will converse with no one on those days of the week 
which end in y

Write this. There is pleasure and pain and there are marks and signs. A 
word may be shaped like a fig or a pig, an effigy or an egg
but 
there is only time for fasting and desire, device and design, there is only 
time to swerve without limbs, organs or face into a
        									  scientific 
silence, pinhole of light

Say this. I was born on an island among the dead. I learned language on 
this island but did not speak on this island. I am writing to you from this 
island. I am writing to the dancers from this island. The writers do not 
dance on this island

Say this. There is a sentence in my mouth, there is a chariot in my mouth. 
There is a ladder. There is a lamp whose light fills empty space and a space
which swallows light 

A word is beside itself. Here the poem is called What Speaking Means to 
Say
though I have no memory of my name

Here the poem is called Theory of the Real, its name is Let's Call This, and 
its name is called A Wooden Stick. It goes yes-yes, no-no. It goes one and 
one

I have been writing a book, not in my native language, about violins and
smoke, lines and dots, free to speak and become the things we speak, pages
which sit up, look around and row resolutely toward the setting sun

Pages torn from their spines and added to the pyre, so that they will re-
semble thought

Pages which accept no ink

Pages we've never seen-first called Narrow Street, then Half a Fragment, 
Plain of Jars or Plain of Reeds, taking each syllable in her mouth, shifting 
position and passing it to him 

Let me say this. Neak Luong is a blur. It is Tuesday in the hardwood for-
est. I am a visitor here, with a notebook

The notebook lists My New Words and Flag above White. It claims to have 
no inside
              only characters like A-against-Herself, B, C, L and N, Sam, Hans 
Magnus, T. Sphere, all speaking in the dark with their hands
                                                                 G for Gramsci
or Goebbels, blue hills, cities, cities with hills, modern and at the edge of 
time
      F for alphabet, Z for A, an H in an arbor, shadow, silent wreckage, W 
or M among stars

What last. Lapwing. Tesseract. X perhaps for X. The villages are known as 
These Letters—humid, sunless. The writing occurs on their walls
			

写下这个。我们烧光了他们所有的村庄

写下这个。我们烧光了所有的村庄和里面的人们

写下这个。我们采纳了他们的风俗和他们的衣着举止

写下这个。一个词可能有一张床、一篮子眼泪、或者X的形状

笔记本上记着：这是变化的时刻，是开玩笑的大笑，言语界限
之外的秘密

我此时转向我对后缀与标点的使用，简单一笔闭合了圆圈先生，把
与她相连的画布从墙上撕下来，在同一个时刻体会同一些想法并将
它们铭写在一片枇杷叶上

写下这个。我们开始有一些尸体，这儿有一具，消失了一具，很久
之前有一具，有一个还没来

松开我吧，因为我已经死了，现在在一本小说里，我曾是一个抒情
诗人，理所当然，我将人群引上山顶。为了五分钱我就能从这盒子里
现身。为了一块钱我可以给你文本并回答三个问题

第一个问题。我们沿蜿蜒之径走入森林，出来变成盲人

第二个问题。我的市内住所，属于“青年风格”，靠近达姆施塔特

第三个问题。他知道他将从这个梦里醒来，母语之梦

第三个问题。他知道他的呼吸器官被上帝操纵，所以他被迫尖叫

第三个问题。我将不会在那些以y结尾的每周的日子里
与任何人交谈

写下这个。这儿有快乐和痛苦，标记和符号。一个词可能有
一只无花果、一条猪或一个肖像、一个鸡蛋的形状
                                            但是
唯有禁食与欲望的时间，手段与计划的时间，唯有缺掉四肢
器官、面孔的情况下急转弯的时间，转向一种
科学的
沉默，光的针孔

说出这个。我诞生在一座岛屿的死人堆中。我在这岛上学习语言，
但在这岛上我不说话。我正从这岛上给你写东西。我正从这岛上给
跳舞的人写东西，而写作的人不在这岛上跳舞

说出这个。我嘴里有个句子，我嘴里有驾双轮马车。这儿有一架
梯子。这儿有一盏灯，它的光线充满空间，一个吞没光线的
空间

一个词靠在自己旁边。此处这首诗可称之为“言语试图说出的”
尽管我对于自己的名字毫无记忆

此处这首诗可称之为“真实之物的理论”，它名为“我们称它为”
它名为“一根木棍”。它是的—是的，不是—不是。它一直是一个
一个

我一直在写一本书，并非以母语，关于小提琴和烟雾，线条和点
关于自由言说并变成我们所言说的事物，书页坐起来了，环顾四周
坚定地朝向落日划桨

书页：从书脊撕下来，放入火葬柴堆，它们于是变得与思想相似

书页：拒绝任何墨水

我们从未见过的书页——开始被称为“窄道”，然后“半个碎片”
“坛子平原”或“芦苇平原”，她嘴里含着每个音节，改变位置
把它传递给他

我想说的是，乃良镇已一片模糊。硬木树林里，是星期二。
我不过是个访客，带着笔记本

笔记本列出“我的新词汇”，“比白更白的旗”。它宣称没有内部
只有一些
人物，比如反对自己的A，B，C，L以及N，山姆，汉斯?
马格努斯，T. 斯菲尔，全部在黑暗中以手说话
		           					G代表葛兰西
或戈培尔，蓝山，城市，有山的城市，现代的，在时间的
边缘
F代表字母表，Z代表A，凉亭里的一个H，影子，沉默的
残骸，星辰之间的W或M

最终之物。凤头麦鸡。超正方体。X也许就是X。那些村落被
当成这些文字——潮湿，无阳光。这书写发生在他们的墙上