星子安娜，Anna Yin中国湖南出生。99年移民加拿大，其英文诗多次获奖，其中包括 2005 年安省的“Ted Plantos 纪念奖”和2010 年和2013年 的“Martry文学奖“。星子著有五本诗集，包括《Wings Toward Sunlight》（2011）以及《Inhaling the Silence》（2013）。星子是加拿大诗人联盟安省代表，她工作和居住在安省的密西沙加。

Anna Yin was born in China and immigrated to Canada in 1999. Anna won the 2005 Ted Plantos Memorial Award, the 2010 MARTY Award, etc. She has published five books of poetry. Collections of her poetry Wings Toward Sunlight was published by Mosaic Press in 2011 and Inhaling the Silence was published in 2013. Anna is Ontario representative for the League of Canadian Poets. She works and lives in Mississauga, Ontario.

当我死去

When I Die

我的墓碑上，
没有碑文，
只有一颗心和一对羽翼；
当所有其他部分成了灰烬，
心和羽翼也不会消逝。
 
轻风还会拍打那对羽翼，
清流还会在地底潺潺，
落日辉映灿烂的挽歌，
湖泊展开起伏的诗篇。
 
我的坟墓将滑开它的通道，
一只蝴蝶展翅向月亮飞翔，
当熏衣草在夜来香中挥舞，
一颗流星会潜入你的梦乡。
 
而我会端庄地
坐在盛开的月桂树上，
将芬芳的桂花遍撒，
就像春雨纷纷扬扬……
			

On my gravestone, 
there is no word,
but a heart with a pair of wings. 
When all other parts fade, 
those shall remain. 
 
The wind will flap those wings 
and the stream bubble underground; 
The sunset cast its song 
and the lake unfold its poem. 
 
My grave will open its sliding tunnel, 
for a butterfly to flutter in the moon, 
when lavenders swing in evening primroses, 
a wish star will land in your dream. 
 
I will sit demure 
upon a blooming bay tree, 
scattering fragrant petals  
as the spring rain.  
			

无从知晓

Beyond My Knowing

你问我是否了解你—— 
时至今日，我依然记得 
那古老的河流，石头： 
像鸟儿振翅， 
芦苇遮掩着呢喃。 
你的手捧托着于我手 
一如萌开着的百合 
在芦苇苍茫的河床。 
细雨帘幕般低垂 
群星怒放——直到黎明 

现在或以后， 
我伫立于自己的阴影， 
倾听它们坠落—— 
在寂静中。 

当时光带走我， 
回声犹在重语—— 
追忆已是枉然。
			

You ask if I know you—
by now, I still remember 
the old river, stones: 
flapped like birds, 
reeds covering whispers. 
Your hands cupped mine 
as a sprouting lily 
among the white reed bed. 
Curtain-like drizzle dangled 
and stars bloomed till dawn. 

Now or later, 
I stand by my shadow; 
listen to their falling—
in quiescence. 

As time takes me, 
an echo repeats—
reminiscence is fruitless.
			

河流向哪?

Where Did the River Meander?

她已长大， 
不再是牵着我衣角的 
小女孩； 
飘着芦苇的河岸， 
风还是那么轻柔么? 
没有人再追着问， 
河流向哪? 

寄来的家信里， 
透露着变迁， 
她没有提及即将的婚礼，
只是告诫采几簇枫叶。 
遥远的光焰编织在她的想象里，
距离不能阻隔她的梦。 

可以寄回秋色么? 
还是长着青藤的诗篇? 
这样的季节， 
看得见节节攀沿的追问， 
和步步丈量的旅程……
			

She is grown up, 
no more the little girl following me 
dragging on my sleeves. 
Reeds once waved on the river banks, 
I wonder, does the wind still blow? 
Where did the river meander? 
My girl chased after. 

Mail from my hometown 
has disclosed huge changes. 
She didn't mention her wedding ring, 
but asked for maple leaves. 
The leaves here are more brilliant. 
the faraway flame quilted in her imagination, 
distance could not stop her pursuit. 

Could I mail back the color of autumn? 
or a poem entwined with vines? 
This season, 
I see my long trace of nostalgia 
and her face in my dream.