蒋宜茂[中国]

诗十五首

窗外

子夜已过，

雨时急时缓仍不肯停歇。

雨雾迷濛，

昏黄的街灯睁大了眼睛，

注视着来往车辆的肆意轰鸣。

两个身着雨衣的环卫工人，

推着垃圾清运车

像两尊雕塑，躬身前行。

对面的高楼还亮着几盏窗灯，

不时传出宠物狗的嚎叫声。

他静静伫立窗前，

注定今夜无眠。

和着雨滴敲打的节奏，

寻觅恰如其分的语言，

记录下窗外此时的画面。

Jiang Yimao [China]

15 Poems

Without the Window

Midnight is past,

the rain still falls, now heavy now light.

A labyrinth of mist,

the streetlights of dusk open their eyes,

to watch the steady flow of traffic rumbling and blaring.

Two sanitation workers in raincoats,

pulling the garbage truck,

like two sculptures, moving ahead while bending his body.

A few lamps are still on in the opposite tall building,

where travels the barking of pet dogs.

Quietly he stands before the window,

a sleepless night is in store.

To the beat of raindrops,

find the felicitous words,

to record the picture without the window at this moment.

景象

黄昏，云雾缠绵树梢低吟，

雨如发丝撩面。

独步公园小径，

质疑丛林里长出的某些定论。

幸福有时会盯上毛毛雨，

春雨不尽是“随风潜入夜”，

润物，粗细终将发声。

一隅桃树喧嚣，涨红了脸，

东枝摇首欢笑，西枝含泪飘零。

李树缄默不语，

樱花呈抑郁状，惺惺相惜。

岔路口的大榕树，昂首伸翅，

眺望山野，碧波万顷。

草坪的小草们头顶水滴，

自顾不暇，任风雨潮汐……

The Scene

At dusk, clouds and mists linger above, in, and through the treetops;

the rain flutters like hair.

Solitary walking along the paths in the park,

questioning certain certainties that grow in the jungle.

Happiness sometimes catches the drizzle;

spring rain does not limit itself to “stealing into the night with the wind”,

to nourish things, eventually with sound, loud or low.

A corner of peach trees are noisy with red faces;

the east branches shake their heads, laughing; the west twigs drifts away, tearing;

the plum trees remain silent;

cherry blossoms seem to be depressed, admiring each other.

The big banyan tree at the fork of the road, holding its head high and stretching its wings,

is overlooking the mountains, green with boundless waves.

The tops of blades in the lawn are crystal with dewdrops,

which barely have time to take care of themselves, in spite of the wind and tide …

秋夜湖畔

码头陈旧，黄叶零落。

岸草枯萎，泊船摇曳，

霓虹戳穿袅娜的白雾。

载满诗和歌的船仓

频频从窗口溢泄。

静谧的湖面

闪烁出碧水环绕青峰的画卷。

我洞见峭壁间

那颗岿然挺立的不老松

翠发童颜。裸露的须根

抱紧岩石，缓缓向缝隙递进。

俯瞰与仰视，峡谷亘古幽深，

溪流浅唱与低吟，波光未曾嬗变，

独自欣赏四季轮回的倒影。

The Lakeside in Autumn Night

The pier is old, yellow leaves shedding and scattering.

The shore grass withered, the moored boat swaying;

the neon light pierces the swirling white fog.

The barn full of poems and songs,

frequent overflowing from the window.

The quiet lake,

twinkling with the picture scroll of green water surrounding green peaks.

I see among the cliffs,

the age-old pine tree standing tall and undisturbed,

with green hair and young appearance. Its bare roots,

holding the rock tight, slowly advancing towards the crevice.

Overlooking and looking up, the canyon is eternally profound;

shallow streams, singing and crooning, the light has not changed,

to enjoy alone the inverted images of the transmigration of four seasons.

槐花零落

槐花悄无声息地怒放

嫩绿间泛着雪白。

那几只鸟闻讯驻足，

在枝桠间优雅交流。

将花瓣衔住

似口罩悬挂。

我伫立窗前，

成窥视格局。

彼此心照不宣，

它们匆匆将口罩吞食。

不期而至的大风

潜入暗夜，

在紧闭的窗外

肆无忌惮，

为一场骤雨造势。

如此前奏

使一树洁白黯然失色。

缩短了零落入泥的距离。

鸟鸣人叹，无奈中

遁入新一轮循环。

Falling Flowers of the Locust Tree

Quietly, the locust tree is blooming,

with snow white dotting tender green.

Learning it, a few birds come to alight

gracefully chatting among the branches.

The birds hold petals in their beaks,

like hanging masks.

Standing before the window,

I peep at all this.

With a tacit understanding,

they hastily swallow the masks.

An unexpected gale

steals into the dark night;

without the tightly shut window,

it is unscrupulous,

heralding a heavy downpour.

Such a prelude

eclipses a treeful of pure white.

The distance of petals falling into soil has been shortened.

Birds chirping, men sighing, helplessly,

a new cycle begins.

想念胡杨

长江昼夜奔涌，

两岸青山静幽。

斜阳浸染的胡杨林，

从大漠里涌来。

林间肆意徜徉，

任风与沙徬徨。

仰视  抚摸  合抱

读茎  问根  遐想……

窥见老屋院坝边

翘首等待儿女回家

吃年夜饭的爹娘。

Pining for Poplar Trees

The Yangtze River surges day and night,

green mountains lining the banks quietly.

The poplar woods bathed in the slanting sun,

are surging from the vast desert.

I stroll freely in the woods,

in spite of the hovering wind and sand.

Gazing up, caressing, embracing,

reading the stems, and the roots, daydreaming ...

Suddenly I catch sight of my parents standing

in the old courtyard, waiting for their children

to be back for the New Year’s Eve family dinner.

那只鸟

江城半岛的高处

一片葱茏。

花香散尽，

仍有鸟语缠绵。

那只似曾相识的鸟，

普通、任性、执着，

常来窗台探望鸣啾。

对视  点头  扑腾

成既定的仪式。

照母山麓的遇见，

令我惊悚。

飞跃两江的感应，

释放着了然于胸的密码

凝固了彼此的默契。

十方界窗外的槐树，

书写出不褪色的诗句。

那只鸟的出没与殷勤，

常常模糊了我潮涌的眼睑。

The Bird

On the height of the Jiangcheng Peninsula,

a stretch of verdure.

All flowery fragrance has faded away,

when birds are still twittering on.

The bird seems to be familiar to me:

ordinary, stubborn, persistent,

frequents the window, peeping and chirping.

Gazing, nodding, fluttering,

into the standard ritual.

Encounter on the slope of Zhaomu Mountain

surprises me.

The telepathy of flying across two rivers,

deciphers the code in my mind,

and the tacit understanding between us is deepened.

The locust tree without the window at Shifangjie,

composes verses which never fade.

The appearing and disappearing of the bird

often blurs my tearful eyes.

故乡

尘世烟云飘过村头

弥漫在沟壑与连绵的山梁。

石墙托起串斗结构的瓦房

泛着一片幽蓝的光，

晒出院落的风霜

诉说血与火的过往。

老屋斑驳的旧巢

偶尔有远飞的燕子探望。

阡陌通幽，荒野披盛装，

鸟鸣荡漾出花果清香。

驿道旁的那口老井

依旧清泉汩汩，

装满白昼的太阳

与静夜的月亮，

沉淀了故乡的饥渴  彷徨。

层叠的林木任风雨徜徉，

植入泥土的根须，越发悠长，

拽住了风筝的线。

慰藉饱经风霜

剪不断脐带的老娘。

Hometown

Misty clouds of the earth float over the village,

suffusing the ravines and the meandering hills.

A tiled house with a bucket structure supported by a stone wall

glimmering with a faint blue light,

to sun out the wind and frost in the yard,

telling of the past of blood and fire.

The old house is like a mottled old nest,

where occasionally there are distant swallows as visitors.

The paths in the field lead to secluded places, and the wilderness is lavishly clothed;

the birds’ songs are rippling with flowery fragrance.

The old well by the post road

is still rippling with limpid spring,

The sun which is filled with the day

and the moon of the still night,

precipitate the hunger and thirst of hometown, wandering.

Piers upon piers of trees yield themselves to wind and rain,

and the roots planted in the earth grow longer and longer,

to catch the string of the kite.

Comfort is granted to old Mother who has weathered the storm,

and whose umbilical cord refuses to be cut off from me.

午后山村

秋阳从氤氲中露脸，

驱散了秋雨后的薄凉与阴沉，

目及处，山峦清新，池水澄明，

稀疏的村落越显寂静。

村口大路旁的古榕树，

仍旧繁茂威严，

沧桑的身躯散发出悠远的空灵。

瓦缝里跑出来的淡蓝色炊烟，

被风掳到了老屋后的丛林。

几个放学的孩童，背着沉重的书包，

嬉戏追逐在明亮的村道上，

驻足于一湾山坪塘畔戏水。

层层涟漪，引来鸟鸣，

池塘里懒散的游鱼

一下子变得活跃清醒。

放牧读书的少年，

一道点燃山村寂静的希冀与风景。

A Mountain Village in the Afternoon

The autumn sun appears though the clouds,

dispelling the light cool and gloom after the autumn rain;

as far as the eye can see, fresh mountains and clear waters.

The sparse villages become more silent.

The ancient banyan tree by the road at the entrance of the village

is still luxuriant in majesty,

and through vicissitudes, the trunk exudes a distant ethereal elusiveness.

The light blue smoke that arises out of the tiles,

taken by the wind to the jungle behind the old house.

A few children discharged from school, carrying heavy schoolbags,

playfully chasing through the bright village roads,

stop at a bay beneath the mountain to splash water.

Layers upon layers of ripples invite the birds to sing,

and the slouching fish in the pond

suddenly become active and sober-minded.

The boy grazing and reading,

the hope and scene to ignite the silence of the mountain village.

眼力

日月更迭有路，

洞明尘世堪苦，

阅人与互阅者无数。

光阴浸染，风雨潇潇，

熙来攘往追逐。

白昼入帘的倩影

暗夜变形，

遁形云雾深处。

渐行渐远，姿态模糊，

极目透视，

混沌了眼力的归宿。

Vision

The sun and the moon alternate with a path,

knowing the world is filled with hardships,

with countless people as readers and the to-be-read objects.

Time dips, rain drizzles,

with hustle and bustle of the world.

The fair shadow of the day into the curtain,

transfiguration at night,

escaping into the depths of mist and clouds.

Drifting away, indistinct posture,

from the extreme perspective;

confused: the destination of vision.

向青涩致敬

山峦被夜雨洗成幽静，

红尘悬浮，随溪水远行。

困倦的夕阳正追赶黎明，

清风吹落鸟鸣，

铺满照母山的小径。

他在草蔓中

寻觅当年的誓言，

捡拾起任性与轻狂的碎片，

双手颤抖，

拼凑不出青涩的雏形。

斜躺的大青石，

依然沉默，

浑身的苔藓淹没了

白云见证的笑声与足印。

三角梅簇拥绽放，

摇曳的火焰，

烘烤湿润的双眼。

事物的容颜，

在时光的浸染中嬗变，

留下渐行渐远的背影。

站在心田的仪式台，

对往事鞠躬，

向青涩致敬。

Saluting to the Green

The mountains are washed quiet by the night rain,

red dust suspending, traveling afar with the stream.

The sleepy sunset is chasing the dawn;

when the wind blows down the birdsong,

a path paved with Zhaomu Mountain.

In the grass he is

looking for the vows of the year;

picking up the fragments of capriciousness and frivolity,

with trembling hands,

I cannot put together a green prototype.

The reclining large bluestones,

is still silent;

the moss all over has drowned

the laughter and footprints witnessed by white clouds.

Bougainvilleas blossom in clusters,

the flickering flames

bake the wet eyes.

The appearance of things

is changing in the dye of time,

leaving behind the back which is fading away.

Standing on the altar of the heart,

bowing to the past,

saluting to the green.

寻找记忆

昨夜的雨，似乎不够理智。

跨越了随风潜入的线路，

演示着闯入的步履，

楼顶  雨棚  窗棂，鼓点轰鸣。

一树槐花，洁白的光晕，

风雨中黯然失色。

清晨，几只鸟的怨声，

陷入满地星星叠加的碎片。

小区大门旁与天宫殿公园的榕树，

不规则的根须，似渔网罩住土石，

无孔不入与得寸进尺并行，

固守住健硕的身躯。

泛黄的叶片，

无论厚薄，依依纷飞，

寻找植根入土时的记忆。

Searching for Memory

Last night’s rain seems to be irrational.

Across the line where the wind sneaks in,

demonstrating the steps of the intruder,

roof  canopy  windows  drumming like thunders.

A tree of locust flowers, white halo,

pale in wind and rain.

In the morning, grumbling of a few birds,

caught in the debris of the stars all over the ground.

Banyan trees near the gate of the community and in the Heavenly Palace Park,

irregular roots, like fishing nets, to cover the earth and rock,

pervasive and progressive,

hold on to the strong trunk.

The yellowing leaves,

thick or thin, are flying lingeringly,

to look for the memories that have been planted in the ground.

微信朋友圈

曾经在甲方岗位，

拗不过乙方性质的盛情，

逐年添加微信“朋友圈”。

记不清互发的内容，

时常收到密集的赞音。

转岗乙方，

“朋友圈”渐生清凉，

销声匿迹勿用商量。

频见留存的部分“朋友”，

只给群里甲方人士与年轻女性

发出火焰般的符号。

不曾有感伤，

核查了“朋友”

“朋友圈”的本义与引伸义，

梳理手机固有的容量，

把僵硬的“朋友”送出驿道。

WeChat Moments

Used to work for Party A,

unable to resist the hospitality of Party B’s nature.

Wechat “moments” grows year by year.

The mutual messages are forgotten,

and often a barrage of praises are received.

Job transfer to Party B,

“the circle of friends” gradually cools down,

some disappearance without notification.

Some remaining “friends” are often seen

to “thumbs up” for those of Party A

and young girls passionately.

I never breathe sentimentality,

and I check and examine all my “friends”,

to get the original and extended meaning of “the circle of friends”.

Combing the inherent capacity of mobile phones,

to kick off some stiff “friends” off the post road.

天台山即景

徐霞客三登天台山的足迹

在古道深处扎根叠印。

《游天台山日记》打开了

《徐霞客游记》的大门。

明代那个英姿勃发的身影，

手握天台山的一串密码

穿越华顶丛林，

掠过千树万花闪电。

谷壑长出的雾气

争先恐后向华顶弥漫，

归云洞口徘徊，

湿润了葛玄的衣衫，

肆意与如织的游人纠缠。

杉树笔直列阵，

凝视漫山杜鹃的笑靥。

常青藤紧抱佝偻老树的颈

尽情缠绵，

黯淡了路人的脚步声。

沸腾的茶香袅过屋顶，

窗外洒落一地鸟鸣。

来来往往的浮云，

从不对它俯瞰的事物说再见。

Inspired by Tiantai Mountain

The footprints of Xu Xiake, a great tourist-writer, have been printed in Tiantai Mountain for three times,

rooting in the depths of the ancient path.

The Touring Diary of Tiantai Mountain has opened

the gate of The Travels of Xu Xiake.

The dashing and spirited form of the Ming Dynasty,

holding a string of codes for Tiantai Mountain,

through the jungle atop the mountain,

the lightning through a thousand trees and flowers.

The fog growing out of the valley

scrambles to the top of the mountain,

wandering at the entrance to the clouds,

to wet Ge Xuan’s clothes,

entangling wantonly with crowded visitors.

Fir trees in a straight line,

gazing into the smiles of a mountainful of cuckoos.

The ivy clasps the neck of the stooped old tree,

making love passionately and lingeringly,

to dim the footsteps of the passers-by.

The boiling tea wafts over the roof;

without the window the birdsongs are sprinkling all over the ground.

The clouds floating here and there,

never say goodbye to what it overlooks.

在禾木村邂逅慢时光

蒙古族图瓦人的祖先们

从游牧到此聚居，

也许是神的旨意。

仰视与平视绕村的岗峦，

不高不矮，一身青翠。

河谷平畴长出来的木屋们

像雨后的蘑菇群，

错落别致，对望成邻。

炊烟驮着鸟鸣轻袅，

原著民进取的轨迹敞亮。

山坡缀满花草，

黄昏身披金辉，

闭目诵经打坐。

悠闲的褐色蝴蝶，

相约在花朵间翩飞缠绵。

蹲在禾木河上的禾木桥

坦荡叙说百年沧桑，

鹤发童颜，面溢慈祥。

两岸簇拥的白桦林

站姿自在，怡然相向。

过往村子里的风，无拘无束。

马队的步伐不紧不慢，

牛羊们一边吃草

一边抬头向游人轻叫打望。

我坐在浅吟低唱的禾木河滨，

凝视斜躺青峰的夕阳，

不急不缓的清流，

泛着朵朵浪花，从心田潺潺流淌……

Encounter Slow Time in Hemu Village

The ancestors of the Mongolian Tuvan people,

from being nomadic to inhabiting here,

maybe it is the divine will.

Looking up and down at the hills around the village,

neither nor short, all in green.

The wooden houses growing out of the flat valley,

like mushrooms after the rain,

scattered and unique, looking at each other as neighbors.

The kitchen smoke carries the lingering sound of birds;

the path of the indigenous progress is bright.

The hillside is dotted with wild flowers;

the evening is clothed in a golden glow.

Recite sutras with closed eyes while sitting with crossed legs;

the idle brown butterflies,

an appointment to meet in the flowers, flitting and flying together.

The Hemu Bridge spanning the Hemu River,

talk about the vicissitudes through a century,

his hair is young and his face is beaming with kindness.

Birch groves along the two banks,

stand at ease, in an easeful position.

The wind that passes through the village is free,

and the army of horses run unhurriedly.

The cows and sheep are grazing,

while looking up to salute the visitors.

Sitting on the bank of the babbling Hemu River,

I gaze at the setting sun reclining against the green peaks;

the unhurried flow of clear water,

the waves are blossoming, flowing from the heart…

段落

1

斜阳把颈项搁在山坳，

思索黑夜里人间奇妙。

一只黑底白花蝴蝶打坐花瓣上，

蜜蜂们熟视无睹，

依旧翻飞，埋头忙碌。

一群蚂蚁心事重重，

两手空空行进在回家途中。

掉队的两只，

索性徘徊不前。

猜不出它们度步的心境，

兴许是回眸清点跋涉的足印……

2

夜从四面八方涌来，

悬崖上的山茶花

袅袅燃烧。

你缄默不语，

缓步攀向幽静的山坡，

依然无眼神交集，

就像彼此警惕的间距。

冷风携着寒雾扑来，

双方同频颤抖，

僵硬牵手，生涩相拥。

山脚的小镇街灯昏暗，

“我们是八十年代新一辈”的旋律

稀释着夜莺鸣啾。

山涧溪流，浅唱奔走，

依依凋谢的山茶花瓣，

惊艳峡谷，飘落壑沟……

3

窗外，风裹挟探望山城的大雪，

潇潇洒洒接踵而来。

斜卧窗台的雪妹妹，正舒展腰身，

毫无睡意，兴奋着等待

浑厚的雪哥哥自上而下覆盖。

室内炉火袅出红青舌，

红着脸的铜壶吐着热气，

你说，雪天煮茶更富诗意。

我们没有忆起船上的相遇，

没有谈及柏拉图与弗洛伊德，

屏住呼吸，凝视雪花妙曼触地。

炉火纯青丰满，燃姿肆意，

茶香滚烫，触手可及。

润泽的气息漫过房梁，

随心随性忘情吟唱，

江河翻腾，仙雾飘漫峡谷，

天地间悬浮着月夜的遐想……

4

久未谋面，依旧默契，

都要了不加糖的咖啡。

“相见不如怀念”的旧曲

充满温馨的空间。

“两路口”纠集了几条去路，

有红灯无酒绿。

一束蓝色小花，早已干枯，

花瓣从发黄的日记本底页滑落，

你曾科普，方知曰“勿忘我”。

秋风吹乱了你飘逸的长发，

街灯泛着疲惫的光。

几片落叶拂过头顶，

纤细沉重的手

在十字路口挥动，

一尊雕像在黑夜自顾检修。

5

机场人头攒动

口罩上的那双明眸，

依旧流溢出十多年前的俊秀。

白云与蓝天笑赞，

春季诗意的邂逅。

街巷棋布的红棉花

昭示袒胸露背的温馨与豪迈，

遥催着北方沉睡的冰雪。

“草原夜色美”的悠扬曲律，

与南海壮阔的波涛缠绵融合。

珍藏已久的“礼物”，

互赠的仪式虔诚  绽放  潮涌  弥漫。

沙石风化，海水不枯，

不变的冀盼，流溢出亘古……

6

那些旧时光散落的碎片

与夏夜满天的星星，

在浮云里出没。

你驻足仰望或凝视，

抑或躺平极目，

她总是会心浅笑，

淡定地眨着眼睛。

桃李不言，未必下自成蹊，

远观者众，近赏者寡，

不可亵玩焉。

落英缤纷，

偶有凭吊足印。

鸟飞过的影子

在头顶越发清新。

老树枯枝，

未曾中断年轮的演绎。

春天蹦出的新芽，

叙说五脏六腑融合的挚爱。

风雨雷电，

书写根茎延伸的标点，

往来的候鸟，

绕枝婉鸣，独自剪影……

7

太阳的长生不老，毋容置疑。

一生的宿命，在每一天里，

周而复始演示。

“朝阳”或“旭日”是出行的旗号，

“夕阳”与“落日”成回归的密码。

无数次黄昏

伫立窗前咀嚼  凝视，

夕阳的余辉，

驮着空灵的波涛，

从远山款款涌来。

漫过稳固的窗棂，

击穿厚重的玻璃心，

扶起斜躺地上沾着尘埃的影子

相视无言，依依拥吻……

Paragraphs

1

The setting sun lays its neck in the col,

thinking of the wonders of the world in the dark.

A black butterfly with white flowers is alighting on a petal,

when the bees turn a blind eye,

still in flight, busying about.

A swarm of ants are in a thoughtful mood,

walking home empty-handed.

The two stragglers,

simply hesitate to move forward.

I fail to guess their state of mind:

maybe they are looking back and counting the trekking footprints…

2

The night comes surging in from each side,

camellias on the cliff

curling up in flames.

You are silent,

slowly climbing the quiet hillside,

still no eye contact,

like a watchful distance between each other.

The cold wind comes with the cold mist,

both trembling with the same frequency,

stiff hands holding, unnatural hugging.

The town at the foot of the hill is dark with street lights;

the melody of “we are the new generation of the eighties”,

diluting the nightingale’s song.

Mountain streams, running, shallow singing,

the fading camellia petals,

stunning canyons, falling into gullies....

3

Without the window, the wind carries the snow visiting the mountain city;

the drizzling comes one after another.

Reclining on the windowsill, Sister Snow is stretching her waist;

no sleep, excited in waiting,

the thick Brother Snow is covered from top to bottom.

Red and blue tongues from the indoor fire,

the red-faced copper pot spewing heat,

you say it is more poetic to make tea in snow.

We do not remember our meeting on the boat,

without talking about Plato and Freud;

hold your breath and watch the snow touching the ground wonderfully.

Pure and plump, burning in the wanton posture;

the scented tea is hot, within reach.

The moist breath overflowing the beams of the house,

singing at your heart’s content;

the rivers roll, the ethereal mist wafting over the valleys;

between heaven and earth, the moonlit night reverie suspending...

4

Long time no meeting, still with tacit understanding;

they all order unsweetened coffee.

The old melody of “it’s better to miss than to meet”

fills the warm space.

The “two junctions” gather several routes,

where there are red lights and no green wine.

A bunch of little blue flowers, dried for a long time;

petals fall from the yellowed pages of the diary;

you have learned science, to know “forget me not”.

The autumn wind has messed up your elegantly flowing hair;

the street lamps are glowing with fatigue.

A few falling leaves brush overhead;

thin, heavy hands,

waving at the intersection,

a statue takes care of itself at night.

5

The airport is crowded with human heads;

the pair of bright eyes above the mask,

still overflowing with comeliness of ten-odd years ago.

White clouds smile in the blue sky;

poetic encounter in spring.

The streets are covered with red cotton,

showing the warmth and courage of bare bosom and back;

distant urging the sleeping snow and ice in the north.

The melodious melody of “the night beauty of grassland”,

blending with the majestic waves of the South China Sea.

The long-cherished “gifts”,

the reciprocal ritual is pious, blossoming, surging, permeating.

The sand and stone are weathered, the sea water not yet dry;

the unchanging hope spills out of eternity....

6

The scattered fragments of the old days,

and a skyful of stars in the summer night,

appear and disappear in the clouds.

When you stand to look up or stare,

or lie down to see,

she always smiles with a knowing smile,

blinking calmly.

Peach and plum trees do not speak, and a path is not necessarily worn beneath them.

Those who look afar are many; those who look near are few.

Treat it with no irreverence.

Falling and fallen petals lie in profusion,

with occasional traces of mourning.

The shadow of the flying bird

is fresher on top of my head.

Old trees with withered branches,

without interrupting the interpretation of annual rings.

The new buds springing in spring,

telling the ardent love out of the depth of the heart.

Wind and rain, thunder and lightning,

to write the punctuation marks of the extending roots;

migratory birds coming and going,

sing around the branches, silhouetting alone…

7

The immortality of the sun is beyond doubt.

Life’s destiny, in every day,

exhibited time and again.

“Sunrise” or “rising sun” is the symbol of travel;

“sunset” and “reclining sun” become the password of return.

Countless dusks,

standing at the window, to chew and stare,

the glow of the setting sun,

carrying the ethereal waves,

surging here from the distant mountain.

Over the solid window lattice,

through the thick glass heart,

to pick up the dusty shadows reclining on the ground,

looking at each other, wordlessly kiss…

      (Translated by Prof. Zhang Zhizhong；张智中教授 译)

诗人小传

蒋宜茂，中国当代诗人，重庆市丰都县人。中国作家协会会员、中华诗词学会会员、中国自然资源作协全委委员。诗作散见于《诗刊》《中华诗词》《中华辞赋》《诗词中国》《当代诗词》《中国校园文学》《星星》《红岩》《延河》《诗歌月刊》《绿风》《大地文学》《北方文学》《大河》《特区文学》《生态文化》《牡丹》《新华文学》《中华英才》《辽河》《国际诗歌翻译》《光明日报》《新疆日报》《西藏日报》《诗词报》《中国自然资源报》、塞尔维亚《Istok》、美国《国际诗坛》、意大利《POMEZIA-NOTIZIE》文学月刊、孟加拉国《Global Nation Daily》、美国《PRODIGY MAGAZINE》等报刊、平台。诗作入选《百年诗颂》《当代诗词十二家》（第1季）、《中国年度优秀诗歌2022卷》《世界当代诗人·第一卷》等多种选本。曾获第六届大地文学奖、第六届当代诗歌奖·诗集奖、第29届意大利“乌贼骨”国际诗歌奖、2022年度吉尔吉斯斯坦世界文学奖等诗歌征文与赛事奖项。出版诗集《窗外》《向青涩致敬》《古风心韵》等。部分诗作被翻译成英语、法语、德语、意大利语、瑞典语、荷兰语、塞尔维亚语、希伯来语、日语等，在平台推介或在国外刊物发表。

The Poet’s Biography

Jiang Yimao, a famous contemporary Chinese poet, was born in Fengdu County, Chongqing. He is a member of Chinese Writers’ Association, Chinese Poetry Society, and the National Committee of China Natural Resources Writers’ Association. His poems are scattered in Poetry Periodical, Chinese Poetry, Chinese Ci & Fu, Poetry China, Contemporary Poetry, Chinese Campus Literature, The Stars, Red Rock, Yanhe River, Poetry Monthly, Green Wind, The Great Earth Literature, The Northern Literature, Dahe River, Special Zone Literature, Ecological Culture, Peony, Xinhua Literature, Chinese Talents, Liaohe River, Rendition of International Poetry, Guangming Daily, Xinjiang Daily, Tibet Daily, Poetry Newspaper, China Natural Resources News, Istok (Serbia), International Poetry Circle (USA), POMEZIA-NOTIZIE (Italian literary monthly magazine), Global Nation Daily (Bangladesh), PRODIGY MAGAZINE (USA), as well as other newspapers and platforms. His poems have been selected into a variety of anthologies such as Odes and Poetry Through Hundreds of Years, Twelve Contemporary Poets (Season 1), Annual Excellent Poems of China 2022, and World Contemporary Poets Volume 1, etc. He has won the 6^th Geodetic Literature Prize, Poetry Collection Prize for the 6^th Contemporary Poetry Prize, the 29^th Italian “Squid Bone” International Poetry Prize, the 2022 Kyrgyz World Literature Prize, as well as other poetry competition awards. He is the author of such poetry collections as Outside the Window, Tribute to the Young, Ancient Style with Heart Rhyme and so on. Some of his poems have been translated into English, French, German, Italian, Swedish, Dutch, Serbian, Hebrew, and Japanese, etc., to be promoted on the platform or published in international journals or magazines.

译者简介

张智中，郑州大学英语语言文学学士，天津外国语大学英美文学硕士，南开大学典籍翻译博士，河南大学诗歌翻译美学博士后；现为南开大学外国语学院教授、博士研究生导师、翻译系主任、中华诗词外译中心主任、中国翻译协会理事，中国英汉语比较研究会典籍英译专业委员会副会长，天津师范大学跨文化与世界文学研究院兼职教授，天津市比较文学学会理事，天津市人民政府学位委员会评议组成员、专业学位教育指导委员会委员，世界汉学·文学中国研究会理事兼英文秘书长，国家社科基金项目通讯评审专家和结项鉴定专家，天津外国语大学中央文献翻译研究基地兼职研究员，《国际诗歌翻译》季刊客座总编，《世界汉学》英文主编，《中国当代诗歌导读》编委会成员，中国当代诗歌奖评委等。出版编、译、著110余部，发表学术论文120余篇，获翻译与科研多种奖项。汉诗英译多走向国外，获国际著名诗人和翻译家的广泛好评。译诗观：但为传神，不拘其形，散文笔法，诗意内容；将汉诗英译提高到英诗的高度。

About the translator

Zhang Zhizhong, a bachelor’s degree in English language and literature from Zhengzhou University, master’s degree in British and American literature from Tianjin Foreign Studies University, doctoral degree in English translation of Chinese classics from Nankai Univeristy, and postdoctoral research in the aesthetic study of Chinese-English poetry translation from Henan University. Currently he is professor, doctoral supervisor and dean of the Translation Department, as well as director of the Center for Globalization of Chinese Poetry of Foreign Languages College, Nankai University; meanwhile, he is director of the Translators’ Association of China, vice chairman of the Committee for English Translation of Chinese Classics of the Association for Comparative Studies of English and Chinese, part-time professor of Cross-Culture & World Literature Academy of Tianjin Normal University, director of Tianjin Comparative Literature Society, member of Tianjin Municipal Government Academic Degree Committee, member of Tianjin Municipal Government Professional Degree Education Guiding Committee, director and English secretary-general of World Sinology·Literary China Seminar, expert for the approval and evaluation of projects funded by the National Social Science Foundation of China, part-time researcher at the Central Literature Translation Research Base of Tianjin Foreign Studies University, guest editor of Rendition of International Poetry, English editor-in-chief of World Sinology, member of the editing board of Guided Reading Series in Contemporary Chinese Poetry, and member of the Board for Contemporary Chinese Poetry Prizes. He has published more than 110 books and 120 academic papers, and he has won a host of prizes in translation and academic research. His English translation of Chinese poetry is widely acclaimed throughout the world, and is favorably reviewed by international poets and translators. His view on poetry translation: spirit over form, and prose enjambment to rewrite Chinese poetry into sterling English poetry.