渐老如匕

旧电线孤而直
它统领下面的化工厂，烟囱林立
铁塔在傍晚显出疲倦
众鸟归巢
闪光的线条经久不散

白鹤来时
我正年幼激越如蓬松之羽
那时我趴在一个人的肩头
向外张望
旧电线摇晃
雨水浇灌桉树与银杏的树顶

如今我孤而直地立于
同一扇窗口
看着高压电线从岭头茫然入云
衰老如匕扎入桌面
容貌在木纹中扩散
而窗外景物仿佛几经催眠

我孤而直。在宽大房间来回走动
房间始终被哀鹤般
两个人的呼吸塞满

Aging Gradually Like a Dagger

Straight and lonely, an old electric line
reigns over chemical factories and its chimney forests.
The iron tower looks weary in the dusk.
A flock of birds returns to their nests,
and the shining lines are lingering long after.

At the time when white heron arrived,
I was young and vigorous with a pair of puffy wings.
On the shoulder of someone,
I looked around.
Anold electric line swindled
and rain splashed the aspen and eucalyptus treetops.

Nowadays I stand in front of the same window,
straight and lonely.
I see the high-voltage electric line through the mountain peaks
beyond the clouds,
aging gradually like a dagger.
A ripple of my face in rings of grain,  
and the window scenes seem to be hypnotized over and over.

I am straight and lonely, walking about in a great hall
where the rooms have always suffocated
by two mournful herons.

孤岛的蔚蓝

卡尔维诺说，重负之下人们
会奋不顾身扑向某种轻

成为碎片。在把自己撕成更小
碎片的快慰中认识自我

我们的力量只够在一块
碎片上固定自己

折枝。写作。频繁做梦——
围绕不幸构成短暂的暖流

感觉自己在孤岛上。
岛的四周是

很深的拒绝或很深的厌倦
才能形成的那种蔚蓝

The Blue Is a Lone Island

Calvino once said, the one who is under
the heavy burden must be dying to be unburdened,

to be shredded to even smaller pieces,
and realize himself in the joyful process of self-shredding.

Our strength is only good enough to
keep us on a fragmental piece.

Snapa twig. Write verses. Dream often —
Enjoy an instant flow of warmth around the misfortunes.

I feel I am on a lonely island,
surrounded by

a special kind of blue which can only be born
out of either absolute rejection or profound boredom.

云泥九章（选3）

1
铁轨切入的荒芜
有未知之物在熟透
两侧黑洞洞的窗口空着
又像是还未空掉，只是
一种空，在那里凝神远眺

在“空”之前冠之以一种
还是一次？这想法折磨着我

在我们的语言中
“一次”中有壁立
而“一种”中有绵长

没人知道窗口为什么空掉
远行者暗自立誓百年不归
火车从裂开的山体中穿过
车顶之上是漂移的桉树林
雨中的桉树青青。忧愁壁立
忧患绵长

2
蓊郁之林中那些枯树呢
人群里一心退却
已近隐形的那些人呢

窗外快速撤走的森林让人出神
雨中的，黑色的
巨型森林单纯专注如孤树
而人群，像一块铁幕堵住我的嘴
我听不到自己的声音
看上去又像我从不
急于回答自己
几个小时的旅途。我反复
沉浸在这两个突发的
令人着魔的问题之中

以枯为美的，那些树呢
弃我而行又永不止息的那些人呢

3
高铁因故障暂停于郊处。一种
现实的气味，一个突如其来的断面

石榴树枝在幻觉中轻柔摆动
风的线条赤裸着，环绕我们

小黑狗恹恹欲睡
旧诊所前空无一人
暮光为几处垃圾堆镀上了金边

没有医生，没有病人，没有矛盾
渗着血迹的白衬衫在绳子上已经干透

我拥有石榴趋向浑圆时的寂静
我的血迹，在别人的白衬衫上，已经干透

Clouds in Nine (of Three)

01
In the desolation carved by the railroad tracks,  
an unknown is ripening.
Black windows on both sides are empty
yet appear not be emptied enough to claim the completion.
A mere emptiness, an unweaving stare at the distance.

Shall I add a definite article like THE before“emptiness”?
Or shall I use a numeralarticle like A?  I am tormented.

In our language,
“A” refers to the depth
while “THE” represents the continuous.   

No one knows why the windows are empty.
Traveler swears that he will never return home.
The train passes through the tunneled mountains
while eucalyptus leaves are drifting above its roof.
Trees are fresh green in the rain,
and my sadness has its own depth,
and my agony continues.  

02
Where were the withered trees in the crowded green?
Where were those
who disappeared into near invisibility?

I am captivated by fast-disappearing trees outside mywindow.
The black jungle in the rain
is vast and innocent, as if a lone singular tree.
And a swamp of people forces me mute like iron sheets.
I cannot hear my own voice,
though I had never hurried
to find an answer.
During the entire journey, I am repeatedly
bubbling in two mesmerizing riddles.

Where were the trees that represent beauty by thedecays?
Where were those who abandoned me and moved onforever?

03
The high-speed train stops at the suburb for an accident.
An odor of reality takes over. A sudden façade.

The fig twigs sway softly in the illusion
whilet he naked wind swirls around us.

A black puppy is napping
at the gate of an abandoned clinic.
Dusk splashes gold for several mounts of trash.

There are no doctors, nor patients, nor conflicts,
and the blood-soaking white shirts have already dried on the rope.  

I do have the stillness like a fully ripened fig.
My blood, in other’s white shirt, has already dried.


双樱

在那棵野樱树占据的位置上
瞬间的樱花，恒久的丢失
你看见的是哪一个？

先是不知名的某物从我的
躯壳中向外张望

接着才是我自己在张望。细雨落下
几乎不能确认风的存在
当一株怒开，另一株的凋零寸步不让

Two Cherry Trees

In the spot where there was a wild cherry tree,
instant cherry blossom or forever lost,  
which one did you see?

At first, there was an unknown
staring out from me.

Then, it was me who stared.Rain drizzled down.  
It was almost impossibleto see the wind.
When one cherry tree is raging on,
another, though decaying, refused to yield an inch.  


红薯的百年一梦

大疫过后
卖烤红薯的老夫妻再没回来
我祝福一下他们吧
躯体衰老，自当另有所属
 
从傍晚的街角开始
薯类野蛮的身体被炙烤
被撕裂，突然迸出的
香气直扑脑门
像是从地底它曾试探的最深位置上来。
得沾点泥，又有点儿虚无之味
……老年人懂得那意思。
卖得好，也因为“那意思”。
而我，将不复再闻。
我只是从不信任年轻人烤熟的东西
 
小区门口老油漆工也没回来
而我书中灰头土脸的
大队人马，旧平原
正需要刷一遍新漆——
 
世上多少地窖中红薯深眠
明日垄上它们还将绿油油的
其茂盛，连油漆也不能遮掩
 
红薯的百年一梦什么样
互不惊扰的世界又什么样……
人老了自当退隐
消失在名字背后
剩下的是我们
孤立无援的也是我们


A Hundred-Year Dream of Sweet Potatoes

After the pandemic,
the old couple who sold baked sweet potatoes never came back.
I wish them well.
Aged, they must retreat to someplace else.  

At the dusk street corner,
raw sweet potatoes were baked
and split open, a sudden amora rose in the air,
as if came from the bottom of the earth it once lived.
It must come with soil and a bit after taste of nihilistic.
-- the old couple know thetrick.  
Because of “that trick," it was sold well.
But I will never smell that smell again.
I have never trusted any overbaked things prepared by youth.
The old painter working at the gate of the community also never came back,

despite the army of disgruntle characters
and old fields in my book desperately need a coat of new paint –
How many sweet potatoes, napping underneath now,
will become blossom in the field of tomorrow?

Its lush cannot be painted over.
What about a hundred-yeardream of sweet potatoes?
What about a world in which no one disturbs the others? 

Aged must retreat to someplace else
and disappear behind thei rnames.
It is us who will be leftin here.
It is us who will bealone, without any helping hands.

谢炯，出生于上海，1988年留学美国，兼为诗人，诗歌翻译家以及开业律师。出版有诗集《半世纪的旅途》（2015）、随笔《蓦然回首》（2016）、诗集《幸福是，突然找回这样一些东西》（2018北岳文艺出版社）、翻译《十三片叶子：中国当代优秀诗人选集》（2018 美国猫头鹰出版社）、随笔《随风而行》（2019 美国易文出版社）、诗集《黑色赋》（2020 长江文艺出版社）、翻译《石雕与蝴蝶：胡弦诗歌精选双语集》（2020 中国青年出版社）、翻译《墙上的字：保罗·奥斯特自选集》（2021 花城出版社）。2017年荣获首届德清莫干山国际诗歌节银奖，2020年诗集《黑色赋》荣获华侨华人中山文学奖优秀作品奖，作品被选入十几种诗歌合集。