Editor-in-Chief:
  Yidan Han


John B. Lee
约翰-李

The two-time winner of the Milton Acorn Memorial People's Poetry Award (1993, 1995) and the winner of the 1995 CBC/Tilden Award for Poetry, was born and raised on a farm in southwestern Ontario, near the village of Highgate. He attended the University of Western Ontario where he obtained an Honours B.A. in English, and a BE.d, and an M.A. in teaching English. He taught high school English, dramatic arts and creative writing for 10 years. He has also taught creative writing at Canadore College and the University of Windsor. He now makes his living as a full-time writer.

约翰-李两次获Milton Acorn平民诗歌纪念奖并曾获1995 CBC/Tilden诗歌奖。他在安大略省南方近高门的村庄一个农场出生和长大。曾在西安大略大学学习并获英语科荣誉学士和教育学士和英语教学硕士。曾在中学教英语,戏剧和创作10年,也在卡那多学院和温莎大学教授创作性写作。现为全职作家。



译者
Translator


Anna Yin
星子

星子,英文名Anna Yin。出生于中国湖南。毕业于南京大学电脑系。99年移民加拿大。有20多首中英文诗歌、散文发表于北美报刊和杂志。加拿大诗人联盟成员,安大略诗人协会成员,加拿大华语诗人协会理事。

Anna Yin, born in Hunan, China. She graduated from NanJing University and immigrated to Canada in 1999. She has published a number of poems on Northern American newspapers. She is a member of Canadian Federation of Poets, Ontario Poetry Society and Canadian Chinese Poets Association.

Being Human

做人

I am reading Rumi reading Tu Fu and thinking of being human last summer Marty and I slept in the farmhouse loft under French heaven near Vitteaux and we lay in our separate cots like boys at camp laughing, talking silly making fun of everyone we were mostly ourselves, middle aged men with the window open to starlight and the evening breath of the fields look up at the slant of ceiling the slant of beams this room was built for dreaming and we were giddy as lads with happy lives, not old Tu Fu, his sadness settled like shadows, like rivers like cold stones of winter and the bitter darkness of long nights and the lonesome insomnia of small hours like the mystical beauty of death and dying and the inescapable anger of the soul our hearts refusing the silence with a lovely slowing exhalation as we each become more pensive in the loosening limbs of slumber relaxing our hands like unfurled leaves and pressing our faces to linen meanwhile great rivers of the earth the Tigres and Euphrates the Yangtse the Amazon of my father’s last days flow on and what would I buy from the famous floating markets of Bangkok I would purchase the rains of remember I would purchase the stars of recall and what to preserve in a poem but the drenching of darkness with light

 

读着鲁米, 读着杜甫, 思想起伏。 去年夏天, 马田和我 睡在农家阁楼, 在离法国维多不远的天堂下, 我们像野营的男孩一样, 躺在各自的行军床上, 傻笑,瞎说, 拿每个人逗乐。 活得更像我们自己,中年男人, 窗户敞开着, 星光和田野的清新空气弥漫。 仰望斜斜的天花顶, 斜斜的木梁, 这个房间像为梦境而设, 而我们是那不谙世的少年, 乐颠颠的。 不象老杜, 他的悲伤潜伏着挥洒不去 如阴影, 如河流, 如寒冬冰冷的岩石, 如漫长而苦涩的黑夜, 失眠孤寂; 以及那些神秘莫测的死亡 灵肉里不可解脱的愤怒。 我们的心 拒绝沉默, 而呼吸趋缓, 当我们更熟思于 平稳的睡眠中, 手像叶子舒展, 脸紧贴着床单…… 与此同时, 尘世上的河流, 底格里斯河、幼发拉底河 扬子江, 亚马逊河随着我们祖先们最后的日子 流逝着…… 在曼谷的水上市场 我能买到什么 我愿购买如雨的记忆, 我愿购买如星的回想, 而诗歌能保留什么, 那些湿透的黑暗中的光亮。

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