Editor-in-Chief:
  Yidan Han

  Contributing Editor:
  Kyle David Anderson


绿音
Yidan Han

绿音, 原名韩怡丹。1967年1月生于福建。在福州度过中、小学时代。1989年毕业于厦门大学新闻系。曾任厦大《采贝诗刊》副主编。2002年赴美留学,获文学创作硕士学位。1985年开始发表诗作。著有诗集《临风而立》(1993)、《绿音诗选》(2004)和《静静地飞翔》(2008)。中、英文诗作散见于《诗刊》《创世纪》《普罗维登斯日报》《科罗拉多评论》等数十种海内外报刊及诗歌选本。主编《诗天空当代华语诗选》双语版(2007)和《诗天空当代美国诗选》双语版(2009)。美国《诗天空》(PoetrySky.com)中英双语季刊创始人及主编。诗作曾在中、美获奖。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 Poetry Periodical. She is the founder and editor-in-chief of Poetry Sky. She lives in New Hampshire.



译者
Translator


绿音
Yidan Han

冬天的树

A Winter Tree

风雪之后的傍晚 又一棵枫树倒下来了 它伏在另一棵树上 仿佛进入了梦乡 天空,刹那间翻转了过来 它阴郁不语 仿佛被砸伤 却不想说出伤口的位置 雪的反光里 那些黑色的枫树向天空 举起千手 而这棵倒下的树 依然匍匐在更深的黑暗里 黑暗里有一千条河流 陪它返回故乡

 

After the snow storm Another maple tree fell down It leaned on another tree as if it had fallen asleep The sky, turned over in an instant Overcast and silent as if it were crushed by the tree But not wanting to reveal its wound In the reflection of the snow those black maples raised thousands of hands to the sky The fallen tree lay still in deeper darkness There are a thousand rivers in the dark to accompany it home

五月的风信子

The Grape Hyacinth of May

五月中旬,雨后的 葡萄风信子 仿佛要收起它的忧郁 忧郁的蓝,浅紫的蓝 有时似晨钟暮鼓 有时又如一阵青烟 忧郁可以这样明媚 像春光一泻千里 深沉也可以 摇曳有声 如少女的长裙 今天,它准备把 叮当作响的风铃 藏进它的衣袖 它清晰时 世界是模糊的 现在它开始模糊了 世界却清晰起来 那些枯叶、杂草、断枝 和土地的伤口 都清晰可辨 渐行渐远 这时间的森林里 灰蓝的呼吸

 

In mid-May, after the rain the grape hyacinth seems to gather its melancholy its brooding blue, light purple blue, sometimes it is like the morning bell or evening drum, and sometimes it is like a puff of smoke. Melancholy can be so bright, like spring, flowing down vigorously. Deepness can also flicker with sound, like a girl's dress. Today, it is ready to hide its jingling bells inside its sleeves. When it is clear, the world is blurry. Now it starts to blur and the world becomes clear. The leaves, weeds, broken branches and the wounds of the land, are clear and distinct. Receding into the forest of time— the traces of its blue breath.

秋天的手掌

Autumn Palm

秋天 从一片枫叶的叶尖 开始燃烧 星星般散开的红与橙 瞬间抵达 我的每一个指尖 我张开沸腾的手掌 看见岁月已经苍老 掌纹,纵横交错 每一条都能抵达寂寞 却没有一条通向春天 天空暗下来,这时 如果我往秋色里加点雨 就可以酿成酒 而我是那个不醉的人 千杯,万盏 不醉 ,亦不归

 

Autumn begins to burn at the tip of a maple leaf red and orange, scattered like stars and suddenly reach my every fingertip I open my boiling palm and see the years written in creases, crossed, each one touching loneliness, but never leading to spring. The sky grows dark. If I add drops of rain to autumn it will ferment into wine. And I am the one never drunk, over a thousand glasses and more, never drunk, and never going back.

这一片斑斓

This Scene of Brilliance

窗前 一棵枫树的几片叶子 开始灿烂了 它们聚集在 一个枝条的末端 红、黄、紫、金黄 仿佛我的 梦想、幻想、冥想和狂想 如此斑斓绚丽 我无法相信 我的世界里,还有 苦难 、黑暗和彷徨 这一片姹紫嫣红 装饰我的世界 让黑暗也闪烁起来 直到秋风把它们带走

 

In front of my window some leaves of a maple tree begin to shine They gather at the end of a twig, red, yellow, purple, orange, just like my dreams, fantasies, meditations and thoughts, so beautiful, so splendid I cannot believe there is suffering, darkness, and indecision in my world This scene of brilliant purples and reds decorates my world and makes the darkness glisten until autumn wind carries them away

我的酒杯

My Glass

我的酒杯已经空了 很久很久 昨夜盛的是月色 今宵盛的是星光 明日盛的或许是秋色 或许是雪 或许是花香 而对饮的人 总在千里之外 我看不清他的脸 但我知道 他的手里也有一盏空杯 于是 我频频举杯 向千万里之外

 

My glass has been empty for a long long time. Last night it was filled with moonlight, and tonight, starlight, and tomorrow, possibly it will be filled with autumn scenery, or snow or the scent of flowers And always, the one who drinks with me is a thousand miles away I can't see his face clearly But I know he has an empty glass in his hand So I drink a toast to thousands of miles away

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