Smith is the author of five volumes of poetry. His poems and reviews have appeared in numerous literary journals in the past 30 years. His poems have been adapted to modern dance at New York's Lincoln Center for the Performing Arts and to musical drama in the Chicago area. He is a past president of Poets & Patrons, an advisory board member of The New York Quarterly, and a member of The Academy of American Poets, Illinois State Poetry Society, and Chicago Poets' Club.

杰雷-史密斯是五本诗集作者。过去三十年来，他的诗、文学短文和评论发表在上百种文学刊物上。他的诗曾被改编为现代舞蹈及音乐剧，分别在纽约的林肯艺术表演中心及芝加哥地区的戏院演出。他是芝加哥《诗人与赞助者》的上一任会长，《纽约季刊》顾问，也是美国诗人学会、伊利诺州诗人协会的会员及芝加哥诗人俱乐部的会员。

诗人非马出版有十四本诗集 （除《秋窗 》是英文外，其它都是中文） 以及几本翻译，包括双语诗选《让盛宴开始──我喜爱的英文诗》。他还编选出版了几本台湾及中国现代诗选。他是前任伊利诺州诗人协会的会长，现居芝加哥。

William Marr (Fei Ma) is the author of fourteen books of poetry (all in his native Chinese language except Autumn Window which is in English) and several books of translations, including the bilingual anthology Let the Feast Begin—My Favorite English Poems.  He has also edited and published several anthologies of contemporary Taiwanese and Chinese poetry.  A longtime resident of Chicago, he served from 1993 to 1995 as the president of the Illinois State Poetry Society.

The Last Snow Fell

最后的落雪

I have stayed out in the snow a long time.
The wind blew it round beneath the street lamps
until they were turned to plaques of marble in the trees. 
It is easier to understand everything when I am not by your side;
I stayed beneath the big tree in the meadow across from your home,
as you turned the house lights off and passed from room to room.
I stayed as the roads grew invisible and silent and wide.
I stayed, remembering what we planned to do and see

when we were still talking to each other and had plans
to share our memories only with each other; it was a long time.
The snow fell, laying blankets over me, turning the ground cold.
My bones were cold, my eyes dark, my flesh stretched parchment.
You will never know I did not mean to leave you to grow old;
nor to leave us apart forever that evening when I went.
			

我在雪中待了很长一段时间。
风把它在街灯下吹得团团转
直到街灯变成了树间的大理石斑点。
不在你身边我更易于了解一切；
我待在你家对面草地上的一棵大树下，
当你熄了屋灯并从一个房间走到另一个房间；
我待着当道路变得又静又宽，终于消失不见。
我待着，记起我们要做和要看的

当我们还彼此说话并有共享回忆的计划；很长的一段时间。
雪下着，在我身上覆盖毯子，把地面冻僵。
我的骨头冰冷，眼睛模糊，肌肉如扯弛的羊皮纸。
你永远不会知道我并没存心要让你去独自变老；
或让我们永远分开那个晚上当我离去。
			

Trout Fishing along the Alagash

沿阿拉噶许河钓鲑鱼

                           
A trout moves up into moonlight
and sucks life from the surface of his pool.
The life knows of nothing larger below it,
but is gone before it is aware of life.
Each day, year beyond year, the river dimples.
We are folded into our desks, ears clamped to a wire, 
fingers tapping tabulations.
			

一尾鲑鱼浮上来进入月光
从它的池面把生命吸走。
那生命不知在它下面还有更大的，
但在它意识到生命之前便消失了。
每一天，年复年，这河兴起涟漪。
我们被叠进办公桌里，耳朵被电线夹紧，
手指轻敲着表格。
			

Coping with Technology

对付科技

                           
I alternate wallpapers on my computer screen,
letting my eyes follow the thought,
going from the constellation Andromeda in a sea of black
to the wattled orange face of a newly discovered bird in Indonesia,
a white disk, perhaps a camera flash, swirling in its pupil.
			

我变换我电脑屏幕上的壁纸，
让我的眼睛随着思想，
从黑色汪洋中的仙女座
到在印尼新发现的有垂肉橙脸的鸟，
一个白碟，或许是照相机的闪光，在它的瞳孔里涡旋。
			

Imagination and the Man

想像与那人

                           
A falcon landed in the apple tree outside my window yesterday:
a bird of the sky and high telephone poles, that would not act like this.
Yet he sat there, focusing the small twigs and leaves around him,
drawing the whole vast structure of the tree into his intensity.
Until in the end there was nothing but his eye that I was looking at;
all else moved around it as fog moves across a meadow.
I sat on the sofa facing him, not six feet and one pane of glass away.

It would be foolish to say I think that we were matched
or that we were bound together, but it is true that time binds and we were there.
Had either of us moved, the surface would have broken, mirrors shattered.
It was a touch of magic in my home, empty of people and filled with life.
And then it spread its wings, tangled briefly in the tightly wound limbs,
and was gone.  I will not sleep tonight, nor for many more.


Note: The Last Snow Fell, Trout Fishing Along The Alagash, and
Imagination And The Man were reproduced by permission from his fifth book
of poetry, Lake Michigan And Other Poems (Puddin’head Press, Chicago, 2005.) 
			

昨天一只猎鹰降落在我窗外的苹果树上：
一只属于天空与高电杆的鸟，不会这样做。
但它蹲在那里，注视着它身边的细枝和树叶，
把树的整个大 结构拉进它的强度。
到后来我看到的只有它的眼睛；
其它所有东西都绕着它移动如雾移过草地。
我坐在沙发上面对着它，在六尺及一片玻璃之内，

说我认为我们匹配或结为一体
是愚蠢的，但的确时间凝固而我们在那里。
任何一方移动，都会让表皮裂开，镜子破碎。
一点魔力让我那空无一人的家充满了生命。
然后它展开翅膀，在密集的枝桠间纠缠了一下，
便走了。我今晚将不会睡觉，今后几个晚上也不会。


注：《最后的落雪》、《沿阿拉噶许河钓鲑鱼》与
《想像与那人》译自作者的第五本诗集《密西根湖
及其它的诗》（2005）。