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黄梵
Huang Fan

黄梵,1963年生,湖北黄冈人。诗人、小说家、副教授。已出版《浮色》、《第十一诫》、《南京哀歌》、《等待青春消失》、《女校先生》、《中国走徒》等。长篇小说处女作《第十一诫》在新浪读书原创连载时,点击率超过300万。《中年》入选“新诗百年百首”。诗歌在台湾广受关注。获作家金短篇小说奖、北京文学奖诗歌奖、汉语双年诗歌奖、金陵文学奖、后天双年度文化艺术奖、美国露斯基金会诗歌奖金等,作品被译成英、德、意、希腊、韩、法、日、波斯等文字。

Born in 1963 in rural Hubei province, Huang Fan is a leading writer of fiction and poetry, known for his unflinching confrontation of contemporary issues in China with dry humor and dark lyricism. His fictional works include the novels The Eleventh Commandment, The floating colors , Until Youth Disappears, the short story collection, Girls' School Teacher and the essay collection, Chinese Wander. His poetry collections in Chinese include Elegies of Nanjing and Selected Poems of a Decade. When His novel The Eleventh Commandment was serialised in Sina.com.cn's literary section, it received over 3 million hits and was rated one of two “must-read” novels for young people to read. 'Middle Age' was included in One Hundred Poems for One Hundred Years of Modern Poetry, and the editor of United Daily News called him the Mainland poet of most interest to the Taiwanese reader. His prizes include the Writer's Golden Prize for Short Story, the Beijing Literary Prize for Poetry, the Biennial China Houtian Culture and Art Prize 2009-2010: Novel, the Fangcao Biennial Top Ten Prize for Poetry, and the Jinling Literary Prize for Poetry. Huang Fan's works have been translated into English, Italian, German, Greek, French, Japanese, Farsi and Korean.



译者
Translator


Josh Stenberg
石峻山

Canadian-born, Josh Stenberg divides his time between Asia, Europe, and North America. He writes fiction and poetry, and works as an academic, translator and interpreter (Chinese-English, Chinese-French). Recent credits include The Antigonish Review, The Queen's Quarterly, Contemporary Verse 2 and Estuaire.

石峻山,1981年生,加拿大诗人、小说家、汉学家。哥伦比亚大学硕士,曾任南大、南师大讲师,2004年获哈佛胡普斯研究奖。有中短篇小说及诗歌在加拿大、香港、美国、巴西、波兰发表,作品被译成葡萄牙语、波兰语等。在英美翻译出版苏童两本小说集、《最佳当代汉语短篇小说》(美国梅尔文亚洲学出版社),译有《桃花扇》,《牡丹亭》,《红楼梦》等二十多出昆剧。南大戏剧戏曲专业博士,现任悉尼大学讲师。

中年

Middle Age

青春是被仇恨啃过的,布满牙印的骨头 是向荒唐退去的,一团热烈的蒸汽 现在,我的面容多么和善 走过的城市,也可以在心里统统夷平了 从遥远的海港,到近处的钟山 日子都是一样陈旧 我拥抱的幸福,也陈旧得像一位烈妇 我一直被她揪着走…… 更多青春的种子也变得多余了 即便有一条大河在我的身体里 它也一声不响。年轻时喜欢说月亮是一把镰刀 但现在,它是好脾气的宝石 面对任何人的询问,它只闪闪发光……

 

Youth: hatred-gnawed, the bones scored with toothmarks recedes into the absurd, a knot of ardent steam now my features are so genial the cities I've passed through can all be razed in the heart from the faraway harbor to bell mountain near at hand all days are equally stale the contentment in my arms is as stale as a virtuous widow she's always tugging at me to go…. and any further seeds of youth have become superfluous even if a great river flows in my body it is soundless. as a young man i liked to say the moon was a sickle but now it is a sweet-tempered gemstone and faced with any query, all it does is shimmer…

祖国

Fatherland

一座小镇,是祖国 友人的命运,是祖国 一日三餐,只是活,还是祖国 我想抛弃的,比我想说的还要多…… 有时,我需要鱼竿的猛力回弹―― 提醒我,欢乐里有险恶不定 黎明,只是即将流回黑暗的黄昏 年轻唤出的,不过是压惊的老! 仿佛属于祖国的,只剩下这么多―― 是最不起眼的孤寂,坚守着祖国 是贫寒,浪费,白酒的堕落 几阕乱曲,胜任着祖国!

 

a little village, that's fatherland the destiny of friends, that's fatherland three meals a day, just basic life, yet that's fatherland the things i want to get rid of outnumber the things I want to say… sometimes, i need the violent recoil of the fishing rod— to remind me: joy contains undefined, sinister things the dawn—that's just dusk preparing to flow back into darkness youthful cries—the stifled fears of old age! it seems only this much remains of what belonged to the fatherland— it's the most inconspicuous solitude, steadfast for the fatherland it's poverty, waste, rice wine's decadence and a few garbled songs, doing justice to the fatherland!

快递至南京的鲜花

Fresh Flower Sent by Courier to Nanjing

友人快递给我的鲜花 被家人遗忘在快递房 没人知道它心里的绝望 十五天没人搭理它—— 每个来取包裹的人 它都以为,是来找它的家人 直到对方离去的背影,让它感到寒凉 后来它打算爱上快递房 在收了租费的屋里 设法体会免费居住的幸福 当它枯成一个老太婆 它仅剩的孤独,也被快递员 扔进垃圾车,化为下落不明的尘埃 听完它的故事,我才发现 我已辜负了多少造物的一生啊

 

A friend couriered me a fresh flower My family forgot it in the depot No one knew the flower's despair Forgotten fifteen days Each time someone came for a package The flower thought one of us had come for it Until that someone turned and left: bloom's shudder. Later it resolved to love the depot That rented space Settled on rent-free life's contentment Withered to an old crone what remained was solitude, the courier Threw it in the trash truck, to disintegrate who knows where Only when I'd heard the whole tale did I realise How many living things I've let down, all their lives

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