昌群
Chang Qun
昌群，本名杨昌群，曾用笔名若风。青岛市作家协会会员。厦门大学中文系毕业，现居青岛。
Chang Qun, originally Yang Chang Qun, once used pen name Ruo Feng. He is a member of Qingdao Writers’ Association. He graduated from the Chinese Department of Xiamen University, now lives in Qing Dao, China.
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译者
Translator
Ben Kiang
姜兆宾
 Ben Kiang was a native of Yantai,Shandong,China. He moved to Hong Kong in his childhood with his parents and graduated from Hong Kong Chinese University. He has lived in the United States for many years and now lives in Qingdao,China.
祖籍中国山东烟台，自小随父母移居香港，毕业于香港中文大学。曾居住美国多年，现定居山东青岛。
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隔壁拥护着狂欢的木偶
这是一个春天
生机布满角落以及
门洞里那个面带一丝忧伤的
布娃娃
她手中那束小花
如果依然盛开彩色的丝绸花瓣
她就成为节日的一员
酒杯的旁边
还有些沉默的烟客
把灰烬前的一点亮光
从指间
一直燃烧到脚的后跟
这是个火热的季节
甚至连那小块的心境
也在热烈的碰撞中碎去
木偶们欢聚在
某座建筑物的骨节里
远离地面
反复地审判墙壁
反复挤出彩色的液体
用酒杯丈量着浇灌胸腔
再隔壁是位诗人
他看着那个面带忧伤的布娃娃
仿佛面对一次童年
她扔下手中枯败的花枝
她就可以伸出手
一直伸出空虚的门洞
隔壁是疲惫的木偶
再隔壁是诗人的遗作
诗人或者死去
或者已经在风中飞翔
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In the next room embracing the puppet of spree
This is a spring
Vitality fills up every corner and
The slightly grieved ray doll at the doorway
The bouquet of little flowers in her hands
If it still blooms its colorful silk petals
She would then become a member of the festival
Right beside the wineglasses
Still some quiet smokers
Take the dim light before ashes
From between the fingers
Burning down to their heels
This is a burning hot season
Even the smallest piece of mood
Crashed into pieces in the enthusiasm
Puppets like to gather in
The joints of some building
Far away from the ground
Repeatedly judging the walls
Repeatedly squeeze out colored liquid
Using wineglass measuring ribcage
In the other room is a poet
He stares at the grieved rag doll
As if facing his childhood
If she throws away the withered bouquet in her hands
Then she could stretch her arms
Outside the hollow doorway
In the other room is a weary puppet
In the next other room is the poet’s posthumous work
Maybe the poet is dead
Or hovering in the wind
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某天我被唐朝的僧人相邀
揭开一处心底的隔板
来到某间深藏的闺房
某女纯静若仙子
某女深爱唐朝的僧人
至无云无雨之所
饮酒间唐朝的僧人
说起取经的途中
以及对身后
守望的情人的感知
以及苦行中的梦想
如今在酸怨的视野里
成为斑驳的袈裟
以及空荡的头顶上
蜂拥得让人苦寂的香痕
而情人的希翼
在破碎的经文的上空飘荡
深藏的女人
依然轻轻地
用酒壶斟满瓷盅
也许还有时间
从苦行的远途中运送些书卷
眼下的酒意
却使人清醒得空明
醉之后
唐朝的僧人已经脱下袈裟
要和深藏深爱的女人远去
我的手
依然端过杯中的残酒
酒后
将有人经过荒原
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One day I was invited by a monk of Tang dynasty
To reveal a partition in the deep of my heart
To come to a concealed boudoir
A girl pure and quiet as a fairy
A girl loved so deeply the monk of Tang dynasty
To a place of no cloud and no rain
During wining the monk of Tang dynasty
Spoke about his pilgrimage for Buddhist scriptures
And his perception of his awaiting lover behind him
And the dreams in his ascetic penance
Now in the sour and resentful field of vision
became a mottled cassock
And on his bald head
Swarmed with agonizing incense scars
And the lover’s wishes
Fluttered above the broken scripture
The well conceal woman
Still softly
Fills up the porcelain cup with the flagon
Maybe there is still time
In the lengthy penance to convey some books and rolls
At the moment the drunkenness
Sobers up the person clearly
After getting drunk
Monk of Tang dynasty had taken off his cassock
Would be leaving with concealed, deeply loved woman
And my hand
Still holding the glass with remain of wine
After drinking
Someone would pass through the wasteland
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小时候，童心总被
守花的障碍相隔
花的馨香
从守花人手里
一层层传递而来
日渐锈蚀的铁栅
甚至拦开有关花的想法
后来，花死了
守花人四散离去
留下杂乱的鞋痕以及票根
只有细微的花籽
在风中飞扬
远离那些恩怨
越过一些围栏
首先自由的
是有关花的想法
细微的花籽
轻轻降临
花和童心
已没有距离
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In childhood, my childlike heart was always
Separated by the obstacle of the guarded flowers
Fragrance of the flowers
From the hands of the flower guard
Puffed over
The rusting iron fence
Even blocked my thought about flowers
Then, the flower died
The flower guards scattered away
Only disorderly footprints and ticket studs remained
Only the tiny flower seeds
Flying in the wind
Stayed away from those gratitude and resentments
Crossed over some fence
The first to be freed
Was the thought about flowers
The tiny flower seeds
Softly landed
The flower and childlike heart
Had no distance in between
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