Yidan Han

  Contributing Editor:
  Kyle David Anderson

Yvan Goll

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。


Wang Yixiao


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 Inner Trees


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

Snow Masks


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

The Salt Lake


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

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