Books And Shakespeare

translated by PLS

everyone knows

how to choose

between books and Shakespeare

those that can’t be performed on stage

those that can’t watched off stage

those that cannot synchronise, coexist or empathise

it is not necessary to turn them into books

unless they are verses, the long ones

the afternoon of the 23rd of April 

as if in a foreign land

is spending time with a stranger

talking about Shakespeare

and then spotting light on a narrow street

everyone knows 

how to choose

those that can’t be written down in words

those that can’t remain in books

the east

has our own 

Juliet-like sun

good verses, the best ones

pave a path of brilliance

Shakespeare sits on a step

smiling

only watching people

walking up

m

作者：拉枣

m 是一把梳子，维也纳车站

的麦当劳店，夜里玻璃水汽上

你画的字母。你不知道拼音里

是读一声 m：行走时咬汉堡的声音

梳不开的雾中央，剪影

在努力地压出黑暗的印子

我把声音憋在胸腔

梳开是由 M 型的欧洲建筑完成

两个狼狈的人，在坚固的底部侧身

沿着雾梳开的光线而行

在迷阵的狡诈中暗暗联手

各自放弃了不能相连的

遥远而黑暗的侧面与背景

所以你从不知道

在汉语拼音里 m 只是

一个无法大写的声母

婴儿吮吸时唇上的柔软

东方的诗人

把那声音烙在透明的母腹

m 

translated by PLS

m is a comb, the McDonald’s 

at Vienna station, the letter you draw 

on the steamed up window at night. you don’t know it reads as first tone

in pinyin: the chewing sound as you eat a hamburger while walking

the centre of the mist that can’t be combed clear, the silhouette

is working hard to press out a dark shape

i am holding the sound in my chest

the combing is done by the M shaped European architecture

two embarrassed men, at the sides of a firm base

walk along the light tunnel dug out by the mist

colluding in a maze of cunning

each abandoning the unconnectable

the distant and dark sides and the background

so you never know

in pinyin m is merely

an initial consonant that can’t be capitalised

the tenderness on the lips of a baby when they suck

the poet of the east

engrave the sound in the transparent abdomen of a mother

光

作者：霄凌

雨后，阳光

穿过高楼与树丛

迫不及待地落在我面前

它热情坦荡，但姿态暧昧

引诱我更近一步

嗔怪我的犹豫

它倏地钻透镜面

刺伤我的眼睛

再抬头时，半截彩虹

已被浓云吞没

light

translated by PLS

after the rain, sunlight

traverses skyscrapers and trees

landing before me in haste

eager and candid, it lures me to get closer

with its flirting postures

displeased with my hesitation

it suddenly pierces through my glasses

stabbing my eyes

as i lift my head again, half of the rainbow

has been engulfed by a swathe of clouds

复梦

翻译：诗验室

打捞更明朗的东西，我的数字起皱：

这生活若非一股涌动的流又是什么？

我的生活若非一场美梦又是什么？

眼皮不论紧闭与否都是亮着的。

在不论紧闭与否的眼皮上亮着的：

庄子的蝴蝶并不在乎你的梦。

庄子只在乎他的蝴蝶，

振翅飞过日与夜。

白日的窗户在夜里沉默 ——

星辰被一轮镰月遮蔽。

被镰月遮蔽的星辰正歇息着。

我们自耀眼的银中如星辰般崛起。

我们崛起，双眸清澈，进入盲月

奔向更明朗的东西，更明朗的梦。

dream duplex

by Emily Liu

fishing for brighter things, my digits wrinkle:

what is this life but a flowing stream?

what is my life but a beautiful dream?

eyelids closed or open are lighted.

alight on eyelids closed or open:

zhuang zi’s butterfly cares not what you dream.

zhuang zi only cares about his butterfly,

winnowing through both day and night.

windows in the day fall silent at night—

stars obscured by a razor moon.

obscured by the razor moon, stars take their rest.

we rise like stars up the blazing silver.

we rise, starry-eyed, into the blind moon

leaving for brighter things, brighter dreams.