Yidan Han

  Contributing Editor:
  Kyle David Anderson

Donald Hall

Donald Hall was born in 1928 in Connecticut. Since 1975, he has lived in New Hampshire on a family farm. He has published twenty books of poems, and many books of prose, of which the most recent is a memoir, Unpacking the Boxes, which came out on his 80th birthday. White Apples and the Taste of Stone (2006) is his new and selected poems. He is the 14th poet laureate of the United States and received many awards.

唐纳德-霍尔1928年生于康涅迪格州。自1975以来,他在新罕布什尔州一座祖传的农庄中专事写作。他曾出版过20本诗集、数本散文集, 其中最新的回忆录是在他80岁生日时出版的《打开盒子》。《白苹果和石头的味道》(2006)是他的最新诗选。他是第14任美国桂冠诗人, 获得过无数诗奖。


Yidan Han

韩怡丹,笔名绿音。生于中国福建。著有诗集《临风而立》(1993)、《绿音诗选》(2004,中英双语)和《静静地飞翔》(2008)。主编《诗天空当代华语诗选,2005-2006》双语版(2007)和《诗天空当代美国诗选,2005-2008》双语版 (2009),并参与编著五本中国古诗文评点译析导读书籍。《诗天空》(Poetry Sky)双语季刊创始人及主编。其中英文诗散见于《诗刊》《创世纪》《普罗维登斯日报》《科罗拉多评论》等。她现居美国新罕布什州。

Yidan Han is the author of three books of poetry, including Standing against the Wind (1993), Selected Poems of Green Voice (2004, bilingual), and Flying in Silence (2008). She is the editor of The PoetrySky Anthology of Contemporary Chinese Poetry, 2005-2006 (2007), The PoetrySky Anthology of Contemporary American Poetry 2005-2008 (2009), and a coauthor of five academic books that explore classical Chinese poetry. Her Chinese and English poems have appeared in various literary journals and anthologies in China, United States and other countries, including The Providence Journal, Colorado Review, and Shi Kan. She is the founder and editor-in-chief of Poetry Sky. She lives in New Hampshire.

The Week


There go Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday… I know their names from the newspaper I hold as each day walks past on Route 4 and stares ahead no matter high heat or rain. In winter sometimes the days slip on black ice, pick themselves up to brush snow off their gray sweats, and continue walking north on blacktop. each morning the same but older. (Note: This poem was first published in The Threepenny Review, reprinted by the permission of the author.)


从星期一 到星期二, 再到星期三…… 我从手中的报纸上 知道了他们的名字 每一天我从 四号公路上走过 注视着前方 无论是高热或 下雨。冬天 有时日子在 暗冰上滑倒,他们 爬起来,将雪从 他们灰色的毛衣上刷去 并继续向北 在黑色的 沥青路面上行走 每一个早晨都是 一样的,但老一些

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