绿音
Yidan Han
 绿音，原名韩怡丹。生于中国福建。 新闻传播学士，文学创作硕士，福建省作家协会会员，曾任记者、编辑数年。著有诗集《临风而立》（1993）、《绿音诗选》（2004，中英双语诗集），合作编著中国第一部《辞章学辞典》（2000）以及四本中国古诗文评点译析导读书籍。 80年代曾任厦门大学《采贝诗刊》副主编。2004年12月创办“诗天空” poetrysky.com——全球首家中英诗歌双语网站，任主编。她的中、英文诗作发表于中国、美国、新加坡、菲律宾报刊及十几本诗选中，诗作曾在中美获多项诗创作奖。 她自2002年移居美国罗得岛州普罗维登斯。
Yidan Han is the author of two books of poetry Standing against the Wind (1993) and Selected Poems of Green Voice (2004, bilingual). She is a coauthor of the first Dictionary of Rhetoric (2000) and other four academic books in expounding classical Chinese poetry. She grew up in Fujian, China and has been using Green Voice as her pen name to publish poems before 2005. Her poems have appeared in many literary journals and anthologies in China, United States, Singapore and the Philippines and she has received a number of poetry awards in China and the US. She is the founder and editor-in-chief of the first bilingual English and Chinese poetry website in the world poetrysky.com. She lives in Providence, Rhode Island.
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译者
Translator
绿音
Yidan Han
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缓慢的升腾
——致奶奶 |
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Slow Ascending
——To My Grandma |
我坐在夜的屋顶上仰望星辰
等待着
流星掠过我的眼睛
我等待着
您的声音不断在耳际响起
阿丹, 阿丹
千万里之外的大洋彼岸
在电话线的另一端
您用尽全身的气力
呼唤着我的小名
然后, 只听见您的喘息声
想不到那竟是最后一次
听您的声音
今天我仍然在这里等着您
再给我讲一个童话故事
而您的一生
已经就是一个童话
被收藏在佛的书架上
几个小时的夜里
我静静地感觉着
大洋彼岸故乡的一切
我看到您的躯体离开了
故乡的小屋
感觉着您在升天的一刻
是否会有痛苦
几个小时中我的泪水已不再流动
我感觉到一种缓慢的升腾
一种飞翔, 一种澄静
我仿佛看见您的灵魂在佛的光环中
缓缓上升, 上升, 最终融入了那一片光亮
平静, 美丽, 甚至快乐
蜡烛燃尽了它最后的一滴泪
爱
您留给我的唯一遗产
仍在我的血液里流动
几个小时中我没有感觉到痛苦
我安静得像一滴泪, 缓缓地蒸发
和您的灵魂一起升空
整个夜晚
流星缓缓地穿越了
湛蓝的夜空
鲜花开放着
黑暗中我紧紧地握住了您的手
一双温暖的手
那不是幻觉
那一定不是幻觉
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I sit on the night roof staring at stars,
waiting for
shooting stars to pass through my eyes,
waiting to hear
your voice resounding again and again—
Ahdan, Ahdan.
At the other end of the telephone line
thousands of miles away on the other side
of the Pacific,
you call my childhood name
with all of your strength.
Then rasping breaths.
Never did I think
this would be
the last time I would hear your voice.
Still, I am here waiting for you
to tell me another fairy tale. I know
your life has been added to the tales
on Buddha's bookshelf.
For several hours of the night
I feel everything that is happening
on the other side of the ocean.
I see your body leave the house in my hometown,
wondering if you feel pain while you are
ascending to the Pure Land.
During these hours my tears stop flowing.
I feel a slow ascending, a flight, a clear silence.
I see your spirit ascending, ascending
in the aura of Buddha and merging
into brightness peacefully, beautifully, and happily.
A candle burns away its last tear.
Love,
the only legacy you leave me,
is still flowing in my blood.
Hours pass and I don't feel suffering.
I am as quiet as a teardrop, slowly evaporating
with your spirit, ascending to the sky.
Throughout the night
shooting stars slowly pass through
the dark blue sky
and flowers bloom.
In the darkness I cling to your hands,
a pair of warm hands.
It is not an illusion.
It is never an illusion.
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雪夜 |
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Snowy Night |
我的时间堆积如一座雪山
你在山上的一个墓碑之下
是否寒冷
雪越下越大
我的山越堆越高
接近苍穹
接近天堂
你在积雪之下
我在雪山顶上
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My time has piled up like a mountain of snow.
You are under a gravestone.
Are you cold?
The snow is getting heavier and heavier.
My mountain grows higher and higher,
closer and closer to the sky,
closer and closer to Heaven.
You lie under the snow.
I am on top of the mountain of snow.
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海啸之后 |
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After Tsunami |
在google上搜索亚洲地图
注视着印度洋旁的几个国家
印尼，印度，斯里兰卡
那些色块正在扭曲变形
尸体般横陈在大洋上
一些岛屿的色块正在消失
我的眼睛像无家可归的孤儿
站在废墟之上
被南亚的太阳灼伤
三十呎以上的海水
从我的电脑上的这张地图
向我涌来
我逃出屋外
当疯狂的海水
从潘多拉的魔盒里
咆哮而出
紧追我到了前院
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Searching a map of Asia on Google,
looking at the countries around Indian Ocean:
Indonesia, India, Sri Lanka...
those colorful patches are twisted, like
corpses floating in disorder on the ocean
where some pieces of land and islands are missing.
My eyes resemble homeless orphans
standing in the ruins,
burnt by the South Asian sun.
Waves of over thirty feet
rush at me from the map on my computer.
I flee from the house
while the rough sea roars forth
from Pandora's box,
chasing me out into my yard.
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空山 |
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The Deserted Mountain |
四月之后
都是涛声了
那片海已成空山
岩石耸立着一个个神奇的故事
寒藤千丈
寸寸憔悴无语
我是拾级而上的旅人
一步是一段回忆
嵌在狭长幽暗的岩缝里
左面是飞星传恨
右面是阁道崚嶒
那时是四月
四月如蜂鸟低低地飞
擦过你高高的肩
轻轻地栖落在
你胸前
波涛汹涌的海滩上
四月之后都是涛声了
涛声万仞
任我一千次地攀登
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After April
were sounds of the surf.
The sea has become
a deserted mountain,
where rocks tell stories one by one,
and cold vines hang for
over a thousand feet.
Every inch of them has pined away.
I am a traveler climbing up
step by step.
Every step is a memory, wedged into
long and dim crevices of rocks.
To the left are shooting stars falling down.
To the right are high and steep mountains.
That was April
flying like a hummingbird,
glancing off your tall shoulders
and perching gently on your breast,
a surfy beach.
After April
were sounds of the surf
like a high rugged mountain
which I have climbed
a thousand times.
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第三者 |
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The Third Person |
如果我们之间有第三者
那一定是那只红鸟
那只总在枝头望向我的红鸟
那只美丽的、小小的红鸟
那只既会飞翔也会沉思的红鸟
他从未飞进我的窗口
却曾从距离窗口三英尺的地方迅速掠过
当时我就站在窗前
我的双眼是一个清澈的湖泊
而他就停泊在湖心的一个小小岛屿上
轻轻地转动着他灵巧的脖子
他的羽毛也随之转动
那鲜红的羽毛是微风中
一朵含苞待放的花
比鲜红的玫瑰更让我心醉
二十英尺，或者更少些
那是我和这只红鸟之间的距离
他在他的树枝上
我在我的小屋中
我宁愿将“诗”推开
只要我能够
将他抱起
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If there is someone between us,
it must be that cardinal,
the one who always looks at me from the branches,
the pretty little one
who is not only a flyer but a meditator.
He has never flown into my window.
Yet he flew over three feet away from the window
while I was just there.
My eyes are a limpid lake
where he perches on a small island
in the middle,
rotating his neck while his plumage sways
like an unblooming flower in the breeze,
prettier than a rose.
Twenty feet, or maybe less,
that is the distance between him and me.
He is on the branches.
I am in my room.
In fact, there is only a word "poetry"
between us.
I would rather push "poetry" away
if I could hold him in my arm.
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爱情 |
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Love |
当我们死去
如叶子落入土壤
我们的来生
会是两朵蒲公英
我们借风来拆散自己
期待你我的一部分
会在空中拥抱
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When we die
like leaves falling in the soil,
our next lives
will be two dandelions
who both take themselves apart
and fly
in order to
embrace each other
in the air.
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跳舞的珊瑚 |
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Dancing Coral |
珊瑚在温暖的海中游弋
触须柔软
通体透明
肌肤像青蛙一样光滑
它在海中优雅地舞蹈
它的呼吸是雨后的空气
带着水草的清新
它在月光的海中舞蹈
它的思想如它的触须般起舞
没有心
它看不到任何东西
它看不到过去也看不到未来
它只是毫无表情地独自舞蹈
它的歌声像塞壬的歌声
散落在阳光的海中
一旦离开海
它就死在它的完美中
它的思想变成
完美的标本
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The coral swims
with soft cirri.
Its transparent body
has smooth skin like a frog.
It dances in the warm sea
gracefully.
Its breath is the air after rain,
fresh as the taste of waterweeds.
It dances in the sea of moonlight,
with its thoughts dancing
like its cirri.
Without heart,
it can't see anything,
it can't see the past and the future.
It dances by itself
without expression.
Its songs are like the songs of Siren
scattered over the sea of sunshine.
Outside the sea,
it dies in its perfection.
Its thoughts become
perfect specimens.
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飘散的感觉 |
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Drifting Sense |
无雨时节
绿叶和枯枝同时被阳光点燃
成为灰烬
浓烈的白烟中
我的感觉渐渐飘散
竹林深处
再也没有嘀嘀嗒嗒的问候
你的鸟枪还在瞄准
我躺倒的倩影吗
那椭圆形的鸟巢
已成为我永恒的归宿
而我早已被击落
成为时间的断臂了
我的坟墓很大
四周刻满了象形文字
还有蛛网圈圈扩散为
无边的孤独
这里很静
听不见时间的呐喊
和自己的呻吟
我发现四壁是弹性的
我无法自杀
于是我绝望地期待着
你的子弹
穿过厚厚的墙壁
将我射中
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No rain:
Green and yellow leaves seared by sunshine
Become ashes.
In the white smoke
My senses drift.
No greetings come from the forest.
Is your gun still aiming at my shadow?
The bird's nest has become my eternal home.
I was shot down long before,
To be the arm of time.
My grave is so large,
Its pictographs tell all
And cobwebs spread across the endless solitude.
Here's silence
Without the shout of time, the moan of mine.
I find the wall is elastic.
Suicide, I can't.
So, I look forward to your bullet.
Shoot me through the wall.
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