Cathleen Calbert is the author of two books of poetry: Lessons in Space (University of Florida Press, 1997) and Bad Judgment (Sarabande Books, 1999). She is a professor of English at Rhode Island College, where she directs the Creative Writing program.

凯瑟琳-卡尔伯特是《太空课程》(佛罗里达大学出版社, 1997)和《糟糕的判断》(沙拉班德书局, 1999)两本诗集的作者。她是罗德岛学院英语教授兼创作班主任。

老哈，原名李小庆，1960年生于中国成都，现定居美国内华达，以读诗、译诗、写诗为人生趣事。

Poet and translator. Under Chinese pen name Laoha, he translates and writes poems both in English and Chinese. He was born in China in 1960 and now lives in Northern Nevada, USA.

In the Beginning

起初

You played Adam to my Eden,
maddening in your love

of articulating meaning,
calling me things, and evaluating.

These are your finest features.
Here's a list of your failings.

I never knew the difference.
Did you despise snow or cherish ice?

So much sun but too much moon.
Was fire wicked and water good?

Or have I got it backwards? I tried,
but you were impossible to talk to.

You labeled the lambs and tigers.
Let there be this. Let there be that.

You eyed a hurricane and gave it
a woman's name. Mine, I believe.

You own the trees while I know
what I knew before I met you:

boulders blowing into clouds, 
endless walks, and talking snakes. 

Still, my tongue folds on itself.
Describe me as the blue girl, 

shoulders softened from seven oceans,
a body you've mapped as history.
			

你对着我的伊甸园扮演亚当，
在你一览无余的爱情里

发疯发狂，
把我当作什么东西来评估。

“那儿是你最妙的特征。
这儿你一连串的失误。”

我从不知道区别在哪儿。
你或曾厌恶雪，或曾爱惜冰? 

这么多的太阳，但是月亮还是太多。
火邪恶过吗？水好过吗? 

或许我把它搞颠倒了。我尝试过，
但是不可能和你说得通。 

你为羊羔和老虎都贴上了标签。
这儿是这样。那儿是那样。 

你看见一场飓风，给它取了一个
女人的名字。是我的，我相信。

你拥有树的同时，我知道
我遇见你之前就已知道的事情：

大石头被吹上云端、
没有尽头的行走、还有会说话的蛇。 

然而， 我自己的舌头自己会卷。
把我描述为蓝色女孩，

七大洋让我的肩膀变得柔软，
一个让你绘制成历史的身体。
			

Sleeping with a Ghost

与鬼共眠

Water flooded the seaman's lungs as he fell
	to his knees on the beach. They kissed, 

then lived swimmingly on coconuts and eggs, 
	but each day the lady's fingers drummed 

on the skin above the bones above his heart 
	until he left his flesh and said, I'm sorry.

My hands are useless. She worked with this, 
	erecting small altars, like sugared rosettes, 

to lost love and lighting up their palm-tree hut 
	with the melodrama of Catholic candles. 

She didn't know she was sleeping with a ghost, 
	licking the invisible and opening her legs 

to the air as sand formed stars on her back. 
	She murmured to the memory of his ear 

how the one who was saved was her savior.
	She didn't know she was living alone 

until the tide rose, the moon rolled away, 
	his ship surfaced and skittered out to sea.
			

水手的肺里灌满了海水，
	跌跪在沙滩上。他俩相吻。

接下来他们以椰子和蛋为生，好似畅游。
	但女人的手指每天敲打在他的骨头外面

心房上方的皮肤，直至他离开
	他的肉体，说：“好抱歉，

我的手无用。”这一切，她努力地去适应，
	为失去的爱架设小法坛，

像是加了糖的玫瑰装饰那样，
	用天主教蜡烛来增加气氛，

照亮他们的棕榈树小屋。她不知道，
	她这是在与鬼共眠，沙在她的背上

画星星的同时，她轻舔着看不见的形体，
	对着空气张开她的双腿。

她对着他耳朵的记忆低语，
	这被救之人怎么就是她的救命恩人。

她不知道她独自活着。直到涨潮后，
	月亮转走了，他的船冒出水面，滑行。