胡弦（1966—）， 江苏铜山人，现居南京。著有诗集《阵雨》（2010）等。曾获《诗刊》“新世纪十佳青年诗人”称号（2009），诗集《阵雨》获紫金山文学奖（2011）、徐志摩诗歌奖（2012）；诗作获《芳草》第二届“汉语诗歌双年十佳”奖（2010）、闻一多诗歌奖（2011 ）、《作品》年度长诗金奖（2011）、《十月》年度诗歌奖（2012）、“第一朗读者”最佳诗人奖（2012）、《现代青年》十佳青年诗人奖（2013）、《时代文学》年度诗歌奖（2013）、柔刚诗歌奖（2014）等。

Hu Xian, born in Tong Shan County, Jiangsu Province in 1966. Editor of The Yangtze Poetry Journal in Nanjing. Member of Writers Association of China. His publications include a book of poetry Ten Year of Light (2007) and Shower (2010). A book of prose: Food and Its Anecdotes (2008). He is the recipient of the following awards: The Top Ten Young Poets of the New Century(2009), The Biennial Top Ten Poetry Award (2010), The Poetry Prize of Wen Yiduo (2011), The Yearly Golden Prize (2011),The Purple Mountain Poetry Award (2011) and many others.

Ziqing Zhang is professor of Institute of Foreign Literature, Nanjing University, Nanjing, guest research Fellow of Chinese American Literature Research Center, Beijing University of Foreign Studies, Beijing. He was a visiting scholar as a post-doctoral fellow at Harvard University from 1982 to 1983 and Fulbright Scholar at Harvard University and The University of California at Berkeley from 1993 to 1994. His works include A History of 20th Century American Poetry (1995, 1997), Selected Poems of T.S.Eliot (1985), Selected American Poems (1993) and Birthday Letters by Ted Hughes (1998). He has co-authored Two Sides of the Globe: Contemporary Chinese and American Literatures and Their Comparison (1993) and On American New Pastoral Poems (2006). He has received many awards including The First Prize of Humanities Research Science Foundation of Nanjing University in 1998.

张子清是南京大学外国文学研究所教授，北京外国语大学华裔美国文学研究中心客座研究员。哈佛-燕京访问学者（1982-83），美国富布莱特访问学者（1993-94）。中国作家协会会员、全国美国文学研究会常务理事、中国比较文学学会会员。代表作：《20世纪美国诗歌史》（1995，1997）。主编 “华裔美国小说丛书”（译林出版社）、“西方人看中国丛书”（南京出版社）。

窗外

Outside the Window

只有在火车上，在漫长旅途的疲倦中，
你才能发现，
除了火车偶尔的鸣叫，这深冬里一直不曾断绝的
另外一些声音：窗外，大地旋转如同一张
密纹唱片。
脸贴着冰凉的玻璃，仔细听：
群山缓慢、磅礴的低音；
大雁几乎静止的、贴着灰色云层的高音；
旷野深处，一个农民：他弯着腰，
像落在唱片上的
一粒灰尘：一种微弱到几乎不会被听见的声音。
			

Only in the fatigue of a long train journey 
will you find the depths of winter
not cut off from other voices: 
Out of the window, the earth rotates
like a phonograph record 
and the train occasionally chirps.
Face pressed to the cold glass, you listen carefully:
Mountains roar in a slow, majestic bass;
Geese almost stationary overhead, 
clinging to the treble of gray clouds;
Deep in the wild, a farmer bends 
like a grain of dust fallen on the record
with a voice so weak it's almost not heard.