洛夫，1928年生，淡江大学英文系毕业，1973年曾任教东吳大学外文系。1954年与张默、痖弦共同创办《创世纪》诗刊，并任总编辑多年。洛夫写诗、译诗、教诗、编诗历四十年，出版诗集《时间之伤》等三十八部，散文集《一朵午荷》等七部，评论集《诗人之镜》等五部，译著《雨果传》等八部。他的名作《石室之死亡》广受诗坛重视。其诗多次获奖。洛夫早年为超现实主义诗人，表现手法近乎魔幻，被诗坛誉为“诗魔”。

Born 1928, Lo Fu graduated from the English department of Tamkang University, and had been professor of English at Soochow University (Also called Tungwu University) in Taiwan. Together with Chang Mo, and Ya-Xian, he founded the Epoch Poetry Quarterly, and served aschief editor in 1954. The publication has created lasting impact on the development of modern poetry in Taiwan. He writes, edits, translates, and teaches poetry for over forty years, and has been a very productive writer. His thirty eight poetry publication includes Wounds of Time, etc., and he has published seven prose collations, and five essay collections, and eight translated works, including Biography of Hugo. Lou Fu has won many literary awards. He was a surrealistic poet in his early years, and his presentation has an aura of magic, thus earning him the nickname of “magic poet”.

李作昌，1936 年生于江西南昌市。1957年毕业于台大电机系，1964年于斯坦佛大学电机系获博士学位。之后在美国高科技工业界从事研发工作长达三十八年。退休以后，重拾年轻时对诗的喜爱，开始写作发表。

T. C. Lee was born in Nanchang, Kiangsi, China 1936. He graduated with B. S. degree from National Taiwan University and from Stanford University with Ph. D in 1964, both in Electrical Engineering. Then he worked in R&D with the high tech industry in US for thirty eight years. After retirement he devoted his long hobby and love in poetry and starting writing poems for several magazines.

裸奔

Streaking

之一

自成形于午夜 
午夜一阵寒颤后的偶然 
他便归类为一种 
不规则动词，且苦思 
太阳为何坚持循血的方向运行 
窗外除了风雪 
仅剩下挂在枯树上那只一瘦 
再瘦的纸鸢 
鹧鸪声声，它的穿透力 
胜过所有的刀子 
而广场上 
那尊铜像为何从不发声 
他说他不甚了了 

他就是这男子 
胸中藏着一只蛹的男子 
他把手指伸进喉咙里去掏 
多么希望有一只彩蝶 
从呕吐中 
扑翅而出

之二

帽子留给父亲 
衣裳留给母亲 
鞋子留给儿女 
枕头留给妻子 
领带留给友朋 
雨伞留给邻居 

（他打了一个哈欠） 

床铺留给白蚁 
书籍留给蟑螂 
照片留给墙壁 
信件留给炉火 
诗稿留给风雨 
酒壶留给月亮 

（他缓缓蹲下身子） 

手脚还给森林 
骨骼还给泥土 
毛发还给草叶 
脂肪还给火焰 
血水还给河川 
眼睛还给天空 

（他猛然抬起头来） 

欢欣还给雀鸟 
愠怒还给拳头 
悲痛还给伤口 
抑郁还给镜子 
仇恨还给炸弹 
茫然还给历史 

（准备冲刺——） 

他开始溶入街衢 
他开始混入灰尘 
他开始化入风雪 
他开始步入树木 
他开始熔入钢铁 
他开始揉入花香 

遂提升为 
可长可短可则可柔 
或云或雾亦隐亦显 
似有似无抑虚抑实 
之 
赤裸 

山一般裸着松一般 
水一般裸着鱼一般 
风一般裸着烟一般 
星一般裸着夜一般 
雾一般裸着仙一般 
脸一般裸着泪一般 

之三

他狂奔 
向一片汹涌而来的钟声…… 
			

One

A chance event occurred in the middle of the night.
Smitten by a cold tremor like a flood,
an irregular verb was he forever like,
wondering why the flow pattern of his blood
had to be matched by the orbit of the sun's flight.
Outdoors wind and snow were everywhere,
the poor thing, a very skinny bird-kite,
was hanging on the tree, shaky and queer.
Moreover, piercing deeper than that of a knife
was the sharp grating one can hardly endure,
let out from a partridge with all her might.
The bronze statue stood on the broad square.
     It was quiet, and its silence ruled.
     He could not figure out the rules.
	 
He is such a man,
with a cocoon hidden inside.
Poking fingers into his throat,
he dearly wishes to witness,
as he begins to throw up,
the lively wings flapping
from a gorgeous butterfly.

Two

The hat is left for his father
The clothing is left for his mother
The shoes are left for his children
The pillow for his wife
The necktie for a friend
The umbrella for his neighbor

(He lets out a yawn)

The bed is left for the termites
The books are left for the cockroaches
The photos are left for the wall
The letter for the stove fire
The poems for the rainstorm
The wine jug for the moon

(He squats down slowly)

The hands and feet are for the woods
The skeletons are for the soil
The hair is for the leaves and grass
The body fat for the fire
The blood for the rivers
The eyes for the sky

(He suddenly raises his head)

The joy is left for the swallows
The anger is left for the fists
The pain and sorrow is left for the wounds
The depression for the mirror
The hate for the bombs
The bewilderment for history

(He is ready to charge--)

He starts to meld into the street
He starts to mix into the dust
He starts to dissolve into the snowstorm
He starts to melt into steel
He starts to step into the woods
He starts to roll into the fragrance of the flower.
He has risen, to where he could be
Long or short, stiff or supple,
cloud or mist, hidden or visible,
being or not being, virtual or physical.
Thus
Naked.

Like naked mountains like naked pines
Like naked water like naked fish
Like naked wind like naked smoke
Like naked stars like naked dark
Like naked fog like naked fairies
Like naked face like naked tears

Three

He streaks
toward the sound of rushing bells……

Note: A slightly different translated version of the poem, 
"Streaking" by the same translator was recently published
in Prosopisia, The Second Genesis: An Anthology of Contemporary
World Poetry, an India publication. 
			

窗下

Beneath the Window

当暮色装饰着雨后的窗子
我便从这裡探测出远山的深度。

在窗玻璃上呵一口气
再用手指画一条长长的小路
以及小路尽头的
一个背影

有人从雨中而去
			

When twilight adorns a window after-the-rain
I probe herewith the depths of the distant mountains.

I breathe a cloud against
the window pane, and draw with my finger
a long, long, slender road
and at its end
a shadow.

Someone has left with the rain.