Editor-in-Chief:
  Yidan Han

  Contributing Editor:
  Kyle David Anderson


文榕
Wen Rong

文榕, 原名顾文榕,香港文联常务副秘书长、香港散文诗学会副会长、香港《橄榄叶》诗刊主编。于海内外报刊杂志发表诗歌、散文诗、人物专访﹑散文随笔等六百余篇(首),著有诗集《轻飞的月光》、散文诗集《比春天更远的地方》等多部。作品入选《诗刊》《诗潮》《作品》《中国散文诗一百年大系》等数十种诗文集。参加第十一届全国散文诗笔会,获两岸四地华语诗歌高峰论坛华语优秀诗篇奖、第三届中国散文诗天马奖等多种奖项。

Wen Rong, formerly known as Gu Wenrong, is the Executive Deputy Secretary General of Hong Kong Federation of Literary and Art Union, Vice President of the Hong Kong Prose Poetry Society, Director of the Hong Kong Poets Association, and Chief Editor of Hong Kong Olive Leaves Poetry News Paper. She has published hundreds of poems/articles, including poems, prose poems, personal interviews, and essays in newspapers and magazines at home and abroad and she wrote many poetry collections such as The Gentle Flying Moonlight, and prose poetry collection A Place Farther Away From Spring, etc. Her works were published in dozens of poem collections, including Poetry Magazine, Poetry Trend, Works, and One Hundred Years of Chinese Prose Poems. She participated in the Eleventh National Prose Poetry Pen Conference, and won various awards such as the Excellent Chinese Poetry Awards of the Cross-Strait Chinese Poetry Summit Forum, and Tianma Awards of the 3rd Chinese Prose Poetry.



译者
Translator


周道模
Zhou Daomo

周道模,教师,在国内外文学报刊发表汉语、英语和翻译作品。 出版汉语诗集两部、汉英双语诗集两部、自印汉语诗集一部。曾获国内外诗歌奖。主编汉英版《2018世界诗选》。多次应邀参加世界诗人大会和国际诗歌节。中国诗歌学会会员、四川省作协会员、覃子豪研究会会长、《覃子豪诗刊》主编。

Zhou Daomo is the author of two Chinese poetry collections, two Chinese English bilingual poetry collections and one self-printed Chinese poetry collection. He won poetry awards in China and abroad. He is the Editor in Chief of 2018 Selected World Poems in Chinese and English. He was invited to attend the World Poets' Congress and the International Poetry Festival. He is now a lifelong member of the World Poets' Congress and editor-in-chief of the Qin Zihao Poetry Journal.

那树繁花

The Full-Blown Flowers of That Tree

你沁人心脾的白像风一样掠过我 让我夜夜在寝室思念你轻灵的庄严 第一次看见你盛开了所有的华美 满树都是奔涌的美好 明日将再次上山与你的沉默对语 想象月亮升起时你随风飘落的影子 这旷日废时的凝视如鸿蒙初启 不必深究风的低叹

 

Your refreshing white is passing me like wind Let me miss your lighthearted solemn in my bedroom every night The first time I see you blooming the magnificent The whole tree is the surging beauty and fine Tomorrow I will go up the mountain again to talk with your silence Imagine your shadow falling with the wind as the moon rises The gaze of the waste long time is like the beginning of primordial world Don't study the low sigh of the wind deeply

黄昏,我们的身影背对夕阳

At Dusk, Our Figures' Backs to the Setting Sun

这金色从西方洒下来像她的眼神, 覆盖了黑暗的视界。 远方和近处的山影永恒起伏不息, 逶迤着一生的豪情。 我不想走,亦不想留下, 自她金色的目光中。 黄昏,我们的身影背对夕阳, 我忽然握住了她的心跳, 时高时低,时明时暗, 是我们儿时的奔跑和嬉笑。 我能否摘朵金百合送你? 你和我一起读彩色的诗, 你的视野没有边界。 缤纷瞳仁投来各种撞击和想象, 谁的前半生花开绚烂如梦她没看到, 而我多想让她瞥见,由此打开世界之门。 不以回廊深处那人的意志为转移,却在她柔软的掌心溶化。 你就是她,她就是你, 我说桃花开了,李花开了,在金色的夕阳中,杏花也开了, 她说昔时,说来日,说常人不会被金色的光线灼伤。 所有的光影提前抵达今生, 因回廊深处那人清晰又浑浊的双目, 孩提时代我们被迫扭曲的呼吸。

 

The golden are falling from the west like her eyesight, covering the dark field of view. The mountain shadows in distant and nearby places are always undulating, meandering the pride of life. I don't want to go yet I don't want to stay, from her golden eye. At dusk, our figures' backs to the setting sun, I suddenly grasped her heartbeats, Sometimes high or low, sometimes bright or dark, are our running and laughing in childhood. Can I pick a golden lily for you? You read colorful poems with me, Your vision has no boundaries. Colorful pupils are sending out all kinds of impact and imagination, Whose first half of life is blooming like a dream? She didn't see it, And how I want her to catch a glimpse and open the door to the world. Don't transfer for the will of that person's who is in the depth of the corridor, but melt in her soft palm. You are her, she is you, I said peach blossom blooming, plum blossom blooming, in the golden sunset, apricot blossom also blooming, She said about the past, the coming days, that ordinary people would not be burned by golden light. All the lights and shadows arrive in this life in advance, Because of the clear and turbid eyes of the man in the corridor, because of our twisted breaths by forced in childhood.

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