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。
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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.
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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
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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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