Yvan Goll 伊凡-哥尔
Yvan Goll (1891-1950),born Isaac Lang, was a French-German poet who was bilingual and wrote in both French and German. He had close ties to both German expressionism and to French surrealism.
伊凡-哥尔(Yvan Goll,1891-1950),二十世纪前半期最重要的法国现代主义诗人之一,共出版过十多卷诗作。他主要生活在两次世界大战之间, 对现代诗歌感觉的形成做出重大贡献。他的诗歌风格体现出从表现主义到超现实主义这一转变过程。
|
|
译者 Translator
王一笑 Wang Yixiao
王一笑,笔名一笑,生于中国河北。著有诗集《是时间在唱歌》(2011)、《走过就不会忘记》(2008)。诗歌散见《诗选刊》、《七里海》等刊物。
Wang Yixiao, pen name Yi Xiao. She has published two books of poetry, including Singing of Time (2011) and Never Forget the Paths We've Taken. Her poems have appeared in various magazines, including Poetry Selected in China. She lives in GuangZhou, China.
|
The drunken
The death-drunken trees of my years
Grow out of my head
Hot with fruit and root
With hands and with suns
Nimble discreet animals
The light of Saturn glows
In the eye of the golden frog
While on the meadows
The comets bloom
|
|
喝醉的
我岁月之醉死的树
长出了我的头颅
炽热,有果实和根
众多的手和太阳
以及敏捷而谨慎的动物们
土星的光
在金蛙的眼中生长
这时,众彗星
在草地上绽放
|
Overnight the snow
Made my death mask
White was the snow's laughter
And it turned my shadow
Into a carnival costume
Suddenly a storm of golden triangles
Raised the ringing city
Off all its hinges
In thousand-year-old light
The towers of time
Were set free from their anchors
Overnight the snow
Made my dream face come true
|
|
前夜的雪
制成我的死亡面具
白色是雪的笑声
它把我的影子
装入狂欢节的服饰
突然从一阵金三角的暴风中
升起铃声之城
挣脱了它所有的铰链
在数千年的光里
时间的塔
从它们的锚上被释放
前夜的雪
让我的梦脸成为真
|
Like a winter animal the moon licks the salt from your hands
Still your hair sparkles violet as the lilac bush
From where the veteran screech owl calls
There stands our long-sought dream city built just for us
With streets all black and white
You walk in the glitter-snow of promise
While the rails of dark reason are laid out for me
The houses are drawn with chalk against the sky
And their doors are poured of lead
Only up under the gables yellow candles grow
Like nails for countless coffins
Yet soon we reach the Salt Lake
Where the long-billed kingfishers lie in wait
All through the night I fight them with bare hands
Until their warm down serves as our lair
|
|
像一只冬天的野兽月亮从你的手中舔舐盐
而你的头发闪耀着紫色像一簇紫丁香
从那儿老练的猫头鹰发出刺耳的尖叫
在那耸立着我们寻觅已久的梦城它只为我们而建
所有的街道非黑即白
你走在允诺之雪的灿光中
同时,黑暗的理性铁轨为我铺开
以天空为背景房子被粉笔绘出
它们的门是铅铸
上方的山墙下长着黄色的蜡烛
像数不清的棺材钉
然而不久我们将抵达盐湖
那儿有长喙的翠鸟在等着我们
尽管那个夜晚我赤手空拳与它们搏斗
直到它们奉上温暖的羽绒为我们做巢
|