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郑小琼
Zheng Xiaojqiong

郑小琼:女,1980年6月生,四川南充人,2001年南下广东打工,有作品散见于《人民文学》《诗刊》《独立》《活塞》等。迄今出版诗集《女工记》《玫瑰庄园》《黄麻岭》《郑小琼诗选》《纯种植物》《人行天桥》等十二部,其中《女工记》被喻为“中国诗歌史上第一部关于女性、劳动与资本的交响诗”,有作品译成德、英、法、日、韩、西班牙语、土耳其语等语种。诗歌曾多次获奖,曾参加柏林诗歌节、鹿特丹诗歌节、珀斯作家周、土耳其亚洲诗歌节、不莱梅诗歌节、新加坡国际移民艺术节等国际诗歌节,其诗歌在被多次被国外艺朮家谱成不同形式的音乐、戏剧在美国、德国等国家上演。

Zheng Xiaoqiong was born in June 1980, in Nanchong, Sichuan Province. In 2001 she went to work in Guangdong. Her poetry has appeared in various literary magazines such as People's Literature, Shikan, Independence, Piston, and others. She has published twelve books of poetry, including Women Migrant Workers, The Rose Manor, Jute Ridge, Selected Poems by Zheng Xiaoqiong, etc. Women Migrant Workers was referred to as "the first collection of symphonic poems about women, labor, and capital." It has been translated into German, English, French, Japanese, Korean, Spanish, Turkish, and other languages. It has won a number of awards. She has read her poems at poetry festivals, such as the Berlin Poetry Festival, Rotterdam International Poetry Festival, Perth Festival Writers Week, Turkey Asian Poetry Festival, Bremen Poetry Festival, and International Migrant Arts Festival in Singapore. Some poems from Women Migrant Workers were performed in the theatre and at concert in the United States and Germany.



译者
Translator


周筱静
Zhou Xiaojing

周筱静是太平洋大学的英文教授。 她翻译的郑小琼诗歌发表于《今日中国文学》,《前沿: 全球亚洲研究》和《象征:当代文学杂志》,以及网络诗歌期刊 《空镜》和 《诗国际》。她译的其它郑小琼诗歌曾收录于《环球南方的生态批评》评论集和《活跃读者: 听众在场的诗歌》选集。

Zhou Xiaojing is Professor of English at University of the Pacific. Her translations of poems by Zheng Xiaoqiong have appeared in Chinese Literature Today, Verge: Studies in Global Asias, Pratik: A Magazine of Contemporary Literature, and online poetry magazines Empty Mirror and Poetry International. Her translations of Zheng's poems are also included in anthologies such as Ecocriticism of the Global South and The Animated Reader: Poetry of Surround Audience.

风暴

Storm

我想象明亮的事物,它们涂抹黑夜的样子 比如鸟鸣、山野、夜晚盛开的花树 海中溺亡者的灵魂,浪尖的钢琴 星星打开三一教堂的门,航标灯取出海的钥匙 我拾起波浪与落日的残骸,随风扑向防浪堤 破碎的水沬,它的声音所能抵达的领地 我想象身后的木槿、九重葛、楹树、鸢尾 美丽事物黑暗中的根部、虬枝、尖刺 在安静的旅馆,我眺望航海志和炼金术 跟朝阳一起浮出的海岛与白帆、猛兽与怪鱼 健壮的海盗们、玫瑰色的云,飓风与海啸 他们狼狈地在某个孤岛落魄而绝望的眼神 岛屿荒废的菜地、渐老的渔船、灰烬的渔具 在废弃的鱼码头,我用瓶子装满晨光、台风 把它们囚禁在狭小的房间,等待时间将它们 照亮,我正孕育一个女性暴风般的海洋

 

I imagine luminous things, how they paint the dark night bird songs, mountains and fields, flower trees blooming at nigh souls of those drown at sea, piano on the crest of waves stars opening the door of the Trinity Church, beacons taking out the key to the sea I pick up waves and wreckage of the setting sun, dash with wind toward foaming waves shattering against the breakwater, to where their sound reaches I imagine behind me hibiscus, bougainvillea, jacaranda, irises beautiful things and their roots, twisted branches, sharp thorns in the dark From the quiet hotel, I gaze out for nautical records and alchemy islands and sails appearing with the morning sun, wild beasts and strange fish rugged pirates, rosy clouds, hurricanes and tsunamis their embarrassed abject hopeless look stranded on a lonely island the island's abandoned vegetable fields, worn-out fishing boats, remnants of fishing gears At the deserted wharf, I fill a bottle with dawn and typhoon confining them to a tiny room, waiting for time to light them up, I'm brooding a female stormy ocean

海上落日

Sunset Over the Sea

在窗口看海,它的涛声,她们谈论 跟海有关的事物,海浪,沙滩,棕榈 灰海鸥掠过海湾,三五艘渔船出海 跨海大桥显露出白色的曲线 她站在游轮的舱头,远去的岛屿 海的深处,一些看不见的事物 在生长,有人拾贝壳、游泳 穿过灰暗而阴郁海岸线的楼群 暮色中的天空,夕光里清晰的轮廓 缆绳与朽木,浪中升起的事物 细碎、完整,风倔强而缓慢吞噬 礁石、树影,我在船舱里眺望 不愿与晚霞为伴的落日 它像悲壮的英雄扎入大海 她们用手机拍下这落日染透的暮色 某天又将它们删除,仿佛悲壮与决绝 从未发生……

 

At the window, I watch the sea, its sound gossiping about waves, beaches, palms Grey seagulls skim the bay, three or five fishing boats go out to sea The bridge over the ocean displays a white curve She stands at the head of the cruise ship, islands recede into distance In the depths of the sea, invisible things are growing, people are picking shells and swimming The ship passes clusters of buildings along the gray, gloomy coastline the sky in twilight, sharp outlines in half-light cables and drift wood, things risen out of the waves broken or whole, the wind slowly, tenaciously swallowing rocks, shadows of trees. I looked out from the cabin The setting sun unwilling to keep rosy clouds company dive into the sea solemnly like a tragic hero Women use iPhones to take photos of the sunset soaked in twilight only to delete them someday, as if the solemn, tragic, resolute event never took place….

Conch

花纹螺在白昼投下斑斓的色彩 她从线条上辨认宿命的力量 隐藏大海深处的鲸鱼,孤身一人 潜入蔚蓝之中,它光滑的躯体切开 乡愁、鱼骨天线、海鸥的尖叫 如今剩下一具骨骼向我们展示 遥远而未知的力量,茂密的 骨殖间,大海停止冲动与喧嚣 它巨大的阴影,钟声、白帆 旧的波浪覆盖住沙滩与沉船 大海沿潮水的曲线剥落沉重的史迹 我从水柱上认领荒芜的三角梅 它在古老围墙探头,望见天空中 坚实的星辰与纤弱而苍白的月亮 海螺延伸清晨的寂静、沉默 我站着,守候正在分娩的黎明

 

The patterned conch casts gorgeous colors in the daytime She reads the power of fate in its lines A whale hidden in the depths of the sea, alone dives into the blue, its smooth body slicing open homesickness, fishbone antennas, seagulls' scream Now its skeleton shows us distant and unknown forces, in its thick skeletal remains, the ocean stops rocking and roaring Its huge shadow, the sound of bells, white sails old waves cover beaches and shipwrecks The sea peels off heavy traces of history along the curves of the tide I claim the desolate bougainvillea from the water columns It looks over the ancient fence, sees up in the sky solid stars and the delicate pale moon The conch extends the quiet of the morning, in silence I stand, waiting for the dawn to be born

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