Jaan Kaplinski (1941--), contemporary Estonian poet, translator, philosopher and cultural critic. He has published is influenced by Eastern philosophy and religion, especially Daoism and Buddhism. He has been awarded many prizes, and has been named to contend Nobel Prize in literature.

扬-卡普林斯基，生于1941年，爱沙尼亚当代著名诗人、翻译家、哲学家、文化批评学者。他已出版许多部诗集、散文集、论文集和译作，受东方宗教尤其是道家思想和佛教影响。他获得多种国际奖项，也曾被提名诺贝尔文学奖。

得一忘二，本名范静哗，诗人与译者，新加坡国立大学英文系博士。他以中英文写诗，出版有诗集以及诗歌翻译作品，诗作发表于中国大陆、台湾、日本、法国、新加坡以及美国等杂志与诗选，并受邀出席国际诗歌节。他目前定居新加坡，从事教学研究工作。

Fan Jinghua, born in 1965, is a poet and translator. His poems have been published in literary magazines and anthologies in Mainland China, Taiwan, Japan, France, Singapore and USA, and he has been invited to poetry festivals. He is a university lecturer and lives in Singapore.

Non-being pervades everything and being is full of peace.
Your translation of Lao-tse can be right or wrong—an open book 
speaks today as an open butterfly and in the pollen
movement meets immobility in the same way.
The spring breeze flows through our hair and clothes.
If I speak, it is because the consolation is so much more 
than ourselves waiting for it: waters breaking in from everywhere,
the tent-roof taking flight in the clear night of Lappland, 
necklaces falling shattered: phrases, life and wisdom.
So this is it, this is you. The eyes are melting 
in the white clouds, it is love, love that cuts us
from squared paper and lets the fire warm us
and the rain come through us until between the earth and us
the last borderlines vanish. This is love: the leaves of trees
and the light like ourselves full of evidence of the infinite.
We shall be and we shall be what is not, 
we shall remain what belongs to no one.
			

无，穿透了一切，有，充盈着宁静。
你对老子的译解可能对，也可能错——今天，
打开的书在说话，如展翅的蝴蝶，而花粉中
运动遇到静止，也是这样。
春风吹拂我们的头发与衣裳。
若我说话，那是因为那慰藉远远超出
我们的期待：水从各处涌来，
帐篷顶在拉普兰地区清朗的夜晚飞逸，
项链坠落、摔碎：短语、生命和智慧。
所以就是这样了，这就是你。眼睛融化
在白云中，这就是爱，而爱把我们
从方格纸中剪出来，让那把火温暖我们，
而雨穿透我们，直到大地与我们之间
最后的界线消失不见。这就是爱：树叶
和光，正如我们自己，都满载了无限。
我们应该存在，我们应该存在为不在，
我们应该守持那不属于任何人的状态。
			

We started home, my son and I,
Twilight already. The young moon
stood in the western sky and beside it 
a single star. I showed them to my son
and explained how the moon should be greeted
and that this star is the moon's servant.
As we neared home, he said 
that the moon is far, as far
as that place where we went.
I told him the moon is much, much farther 
and reckoned: if one were to walk
ten kilometers each day, it would take
almost a hundred years to reach the moon.
But this was not what he wanted to hear.
The road was already almost dry.
The river was spread on the marsh; ducks and other waterfowl
crowed the beginning of night. The snow's crust
crackled underfoot—it must
have been freezing again. All the houses' windows 
were dark. Only in our kitchen
a light shone. Beside our chimney, the shining moon,
and beside the moon, a single star.
			

我和小儿一道回家。
已是黄昏。年轻的月亮
伫立在西天，不远处
一颗孤星。我指给小儿看，
对他说应该怎么和月亮打招呼，
又说那颗星是月亮的仆人。
快到家时，他说
月亮真远，就像
我们去的那个地方那么远。
我告诉他，月亮要远得多，
算起来：假如每天走
十公里，那将需要差不多
一百年才能走到月亮。
但这可不是他想听到的话。
路已经几乎干了。
小河在湿地上铺开；野鸭和别的水禽
一起等待黑夜。雪壳在脚下
发出脆响——气温
肯定又降到了零度。所有房屋的窗户
都暗了。只有我们的厨房
还有一盏灯亮着。烟囱旁是明净的月亮，
月亮旁，一颗孤星。