拜访寺庙

翻译：诗验室

借助湿婆的灵伽我们膜拜了

呜咽的三相神

“我们席地而坐，一想起锡安就潸然泪下。”【1】

她那抛过光的宝座，冰冷的，

在水火中复活。

她的残骸，也是冰冷的，

为消失的迹象发出一声叹息。

时间终会出现么？雨会来么？

我们博学的朋友，谈及不变的形而上学。

然而就连最为抽象的实体

都得被迫带着困苦绕道而行。

他知道么？他知道么？温柔的帕伽雅会回复么？【2】

再等弗拉季米尔和爱斯特拉冈站起，【3】

“Nous sommes les marionnettes du monde.”【4】

一团在狂喜中燃烧与结束的火焰。

“Je vois alors qu'ils la joue comme un jouet.”【5】

瞧瞧看吧，一位女孩的碎片。

最终我管好自己的土地了吗？【6】

她最后的意识，淹没在一堆死亡的照片中。

因为每一颗刺穿善良淑女的子弹，

都刻着这些假偶像与假币膜拜者的名字。

我又听见你的声音，

苍白、悬而未决中不满的震动：

“你已犯下 —

通奸罪：但那是在另一个国度，

再说了，那丫头已经死了。”【7】

所以现在轻轻忘掉我吧，因为你和我，

如果你曾许过愿，可能是朋友。

Visit to the Shrine

by Derek Wang

By Shiva’s lingam we worship 

the Trimurti that weeps 

We sat down and whimper, when we remembered Zion[1].

Her burnish’d throne, arctic,

 resuscitates in water and fire.

Her remains, arctic as well,

A single sigh for the vanished signs.

Will there ever be time? Will there ever be rain?

Our friend, the polymath, talks of constant metaphysics.

Yet even the most abstract entity

is forced to circumambulate in distress.

Does he know? Does he know? Will the tender Parjanya ever respond [2]?

Wait once more as Vladimir and Estragon erect [3],

Nous sommes les marionnettes du monde[4].

A flame that consumes and consummates in ecstasy.

Je vois alors qu'ils la joue comme un jouet[5].

Regard and behold, the fragments of a girl.

Have I set my land in order at last [6]?

Her last consciousness, drown in the stream of dead images.

For every bullet impaled on the kind demoiselle,

imprints the name of these, worshipping false idols and pence.

I hear your voice again,

pale, unsatisfied oscillation in suspense:

Thou hast committed—

Fornication: but that was in another country,

And besides, the wench is dead[7].

So gently forget me now, for you and I,

if you wished, might have been friends.

意义

作者：Evvy

阴性的季节

我们着迷一切意义

放大的意义

进行中的意义

被否定的意义

及无意义

“0.01”    

时间被定义   

 呼— 吸—   

呼—  

吸—  

meaning

translated by PLS

negative season

we are obsessed with every meaning

amplified meaning

ongoing meaning

denied meaning

and meaninglessness

“0.01”

time is defined

exhale-inhale-

exhale-

inhale-

废墟中的一切

翻译：诗验室

这么长时间以来我一直在写这首诗

藤状植物与树根已将我的脚重重包围。

有时候他们在顺着我的大腿攀爬时会挤压它，

分散了我的注意力。我低头一看；

杂草正从地板间长出。

我抬头，看见墙壁都已裂开。

我转头，已经很久没有这么

往外看了。原来的商业街

已被树木和森林占据。一只野猪

弄伤我的一位邻居，老鹰直冲而下

扑向残骸。如果我可以再写

两三行，我想，可是

屋顶下陷，阳光使我

双眼灼痛。我被迫放弃这首诗。

everything in ruins

by Simon Alderwick

I've been working on this poem so long

vines and tree roots have wrapped around my feet. 

Sometimes they squeeze as they crawl up my legs, 

breaking my concentration. I look down; 

grass and weeds are sprouting through the floorboards.

I look up and see the walls are all cracked.

I turn my head, look outside for the first

time in a long time. Tall trees and forest

where the high street used to be. A wild hog

mauls one of my neighbours, and hawks swoop down

on the remains. If I could just finish

another couple of lines, I think, but

the ceiling caves in and I'm blinded by

sunlight. I'm forced to abandon my work.

我

作者：Mary Ventura

希望、失望、绝望、渴望、奢望、巴望、指望，可是，我是个瞎子。

听话、听任、听命、听信、听政、听说、听凭，可是，我是个聋子。

可悲、可叹、可笑、可怜、可惜、可取、可能，可是，我只能

听从、跟从、盲从、顺从、服从、遵从，能不能不从？

Me

translated by PLS

(In Chinese) there’s a vision in hope, disappointment, despair, desire, chimera, expectation, and yet, I am blind;

it requires listening to be obedient, to let alone, to take orders, to attend to state affairs, to hear of things, to allow, and yet, I am deaf.

and an ability to be pathetic, regrettable, laughable, pitiful, sorrowful, commendable, possible, and yet, I am only able

to obey, to tag along, to follow blindly, to yield, to devote, to comply, can I not agree?

取自《禁止之物》

            致约瑟夫·格里登

翻译：诗验室

方圆数百里内

空无一人

然而一条脊椎及其肋骨

悬挂着

将土地分割开来的

铁丝 — 下一个几乎

被其僵硬的旧皮裹住，

在边缘处

被撕开 —

破旧的阿根廷国旗不向任何人打招呼

从未离开

要想在巴塔哥尼亚的风中

安息 — 下一个

眼睛仍在又大又美

又死气沉沉 — 下一个 —

下一个 — 每走几步

下一个 — 直到仍在挣扎的那个

本可以被拯救的那个。

但生存是唯一一种

从不悬

挂在此处被展示的状态（再说了

方圆数百里内

空无一人）。当最后一位后代

因那些用以

保护无人守护之地

的荒漠灌木

与倒刺

而失去性命时他们在想

什么？方圆数百里内

空无一人

from things to ban

                           for Joseph F. Glidden

by Roy Duffield

there’s no-one around

for hundreds of miles

but a spine and its ribs

hang

the wire that cuts divisive

the land—the next half-

swaddled in its former skin stiffened,

ripped away at

the edges—

the tatteredalbicelestewaving to no-one

never left

to rest in peace

by the Patagonia winds—the next

still has its eyes big beautiful

and dead—the next—

the next—every few yards

the next—until the one that still struggles

the one that could still be saved.

But living is the only state

never hang-

ing here on display (and besides

there’s no-one around

for hundreds of miles). What

were they thinking

as they lost their last blood

to the desert shrubs

to the barbs

that protect

the absent owners’

land? There’s no-one around

for hundreds of miles