李少君 诗选(52—67)

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李少君 诗选(52—67)

山行

野草包裹的独木桥
搭在一段清澈的小溪上
桥下,水浅露白石

小溪再往前流,芦苇摇曳处
恰好有横倒的枯木拦截
洄环成了一个小深潭

我循小道而来,至此
正好略作休憩,再寻觅下一段路

Mountain Walk

Wild grasses wrap around the log bridge,
spanning across a clear stream,
with glistening white pebbles in the shallow.

A little further down, where the reeds sway,
a dead trunk obstructs the flow,
channeling water to a small deep pool.

I follow the footpath here, a good place
for a rest before venturing on the next path.

冷兵器时代

那时,我们不尚刀剑,只会肉搏
崇拜的是体魄、凶狠与残酷
肉体是我们唯一的冷兵器
厮杀现场,没有喧哗,没有异性
无声的格斗如默片,谁先叫喊谁先输

那个年代,我们都是生猛的青春动物
处于闷头闷脑自我压抑的幽黯期
有的是斗志与咬紧牙关的硬骨头
用一种阴郁撞击另一种阴郁
用肉体的阴郁撞击精神的阴郁
嗜求血花四溅血肉横飞的残忍快感

总是有一大团无形的森森寒意尾随着我们
我们如狼群扑入城市的丛林
在街头,在墙角,在偏僻的小酒馆和桥底
我们逞强斗气、摩拳擦掌、恶言相向
我们大摇大摆,耀武扬威,横行而过
我们很远地就带有杀气
看人的眼神也显得阴鸷
我们即使酷守沉默一声不吭
也让女孩们惟恐躲之不及

The Age of Cold Weapons

In the old days we preferred fist fights over knives and daggers.
We adored physical strength, brute force, and savagery.
The body was the only cold weapon,
no cheering audience, no opposite sex in the battlefield.
We fought as in a silent film, and the only scream came from the losers.

We were animalistic juveniles in those days,
in the confused age of glum abstinence.
Some were headstrong with a stiffened spine,
countering gloom with gloom,
fighting a repressed spirit with a repressed body,
bloodthirsty for cruel pleasures.

Wherever we went, there was a hair-raising cold trailing us.
We rushed into the concrete jungle like a pack of wolves,
roaming the streets, the remote taverns and under the bridge.
We geared up for fights, antagonized each other and locked horns.
We swaggered and paraded ourselves, and challenged everyone’s turf.
We came with a murderous intention from a long way away,
intimidating people with a hawkish stare.
Even if we tried our best to show constraints,
all girls scurried for safety at the sight of us.

除夕夜的短信
——来自一位朋友的叙述

除夕夜,给几位女友发段子:
一酒鬼深夜回家,在楼下大喊大叫
邻居们,把窗户打开!
看到很多人探头出来
他又喊:看看我是谁家的?

只有一位女友回了短信:
哈,你是我家的!于是
她把我领回了家,直到现在

SMS on New Year’s Eve
—— a friend’s testimony

On New Year’s Eve, I sent a wisecrack to several female friends:
A drunkard came home late at night and yelled from downstairs,
“Neighbors, open the windows!”
Seeing many people peek out,
he shouted again: “Look, here I am, which home is mine?”

Only one friend texted back:
“Ha, you belong to this house!” So,
she took me home, until today.

妈妈打手机

接到妈妈手机时,我正在开车
有些火急火燎,有些手忙脚乱
快七十的妈妈第一次用手机
说给远在天涯海角的儿子打一个试试
我急忙问:妈妈,没什么事吧
妈妈说:没事,就试试手机
我说好的,就这样啊。小车正在拐弯
我刚想放下手机,妈妈又说:
没事,没事,你要注意身体,不要太胖
我支吾说好的好的,没事了吧?
小车汇入滚滚车流,我有些应接不暇
妈妈又说:没什么事,我们都挺好的
你爸爸也很好,你不用老回来
其实我回去得并不多,但车流在加速
我赶紧说:知道了,你也注意身体
妈妈说:我身体还不错,你爸爸也很稳定
你要照顾好自己,不用为我们操心
我语气加快:好,好,我会的
妈妈又迟迟疑疑说:没什么事了
再忙也要注意身体啊……
前面警察出现,我立马掐掉手机
鼻子一酸,两行眼泪不争气地流了下来

Phone Call from Mother

I received a call from my mother while driving,
and scrambled to free up a hand from the steering wheel.
It was the first time my mother, nearly 70, used a cell phone,
she decided to test it by calling the son who lived far away.
I quickly asked: Mom, is everything alright?
Mother said: Nothing’s the matter, I just wanted to try this cell phone.
I said: That’s good, is that it?
My car was making a turn.
I was about to put down my phone when Mother spoke again:
Nothing is new. We’re all well, but you must take care of yourself, try not to gain weight.
I muttered: All right, I will. All’s good?
My car was merging into the surging traffic, I felt a bit overwhelmed.
Mother continued: Nothing’s the matter. All’s well.
Your dad is fine too, you needn’t come home all the time.
Actually, I didn’t go back that often,
but the traffic was picking up.
I quickly said: I see, you look after yourself, too.
Mom replied: I’m doing alright. You don’t need to come home all the time.
Your dad is the same as before.
You must take care of yourself. Don’t worry about us.
My words were picking up speed: Yes. Yes. I will.
Mom paused, then said: right, that’s all.
Take care of yourself even if work gets busy…
A police car appeared in front of me, I tapped the phone off.
My nose felt it first, but then tears could not help but roll down.

邻海

海是客厅,一大片的碧蓝绚丽风景
就在窗外,抬头就能随时看到

海更象邻居,每天打过招呼后
我才低下头,读书,做家务,处理公事
抑或,静静地站着凝望一会

有一段我们更加亲密,每天
总感觉很长时间没看海,就象忘了亲吻
所以,无论回家有多晚,都会惦记着
推开窗户看看海,就象每天再忙
也要吻过后才互道晚安入睡

多少年过去了,海还在那里
而你却已经不见。我还是会经常敞开门窗
指着海对宾客说:你们曾用山水之美招待过我
我呢,就用这湛蓝之美招待你们吧

The Sea Next Door

The sea is my living room, a big wide blue spectacular scene,
right outside the window, I only need to lift my head to see it.

The sea is more like a neighbor. I say hello to it first thing of the day,
before bending my head to read a book, to do housework or office work.
Sometimes I simply stand by the window and stare at it.

There was a time when we were like soulmates. I would
feel parched if not seeing it for a while, as if missing a kiss,
and, no matter how late I came home, I would remember
to open the window to look at the sea, the same
as a good-night kiss before bed.

Years have passed, and the sea is still there,
but you are gone. I still open the doors and windows, pointing at
the sea and telling my visitors: you treated me sumptuously with your mountains,
let me return your favor with this deep blue beauty.

废园

表面随意生长的花花草草
其实都是精心挑选出来的

看似杂乱荒芜的园子
昨天刚刚细致清理过

连那些似乎漫不经心的行人
也是专程赶来的游客

只有小兽例外,一闪而过的影子
它的惊慌是突然的

Wasted Garden

Seemingly random, but in fact every flower and every blade
was carefully curated.

Seemingly disjointed and desolate, the garden
was tidied up only yesterday.

Even those insouciant-looking pedestrians are
visitors who make a special point to come.

This little critter is the exception — its fleeting shadow
in the hysteria of the moment is unplanned.

反体制

在西装就代表体制的年代
超短裙就算是叛逆,而玻璃幕墙
就是后现代主义,每一层楼都藏着机关
整体就构成市政府和商贸中心
高跟鞋枪声一样射向那些密封坚固的防盗门

幸福已经指标化
人心,也可以紧张地进行分类计量
只有焦虑永远悬挂在头上
就象手机铃声总是轰炸机一样响起
所以,你再怎么撒娇,最后
还是要潜入主任办公室,以眉来眼去
向权力释放高压电,换取安全感

总有一些人想把生活行为艺术化
在开会的间隙游刃有余地暗示与勾引
私底下商定暗号为:
一支杀伤力超强的口红在燃烧
然后,在地下车库里短促接头神秘消失

Non-Conforming

In the era when the suit is the official outfit,
wearing a miniskirt would be non-conforming; just like tall glass walls
are the symbol of post-modernism, together with the hidden gadgets on every floor,
they make up city offices and financial centers.
You hear stiletto heels firing shots at the solid security doors.

Happiness is indexed,
and human hearts can be compartmented and quantified,
but the old-fashioned angst still hangs over our heads,
even the phone ringing can give a fright like a fighter jet.
Therefore, even with her soft feminine appeal, in the end
she cannot help but slip into the director’s office to flirt with power,
and discharge her high voltage in return for a sense of security.

There are always those who wish to turn life into behavior art,
flirting and seducing at the recess of a meeting,
agreeing on a secret code:
The cold lipstick is on fire.
Later, with a nod, they vanish together into the basement garage.

大雾

连续一周的大雨终于消停
树木们一身湿漉,也歇了口气
舒展开新嫩的叶子
昨夜的一场争吵却还在继续
绵长的积郁挥之不去
一如这弥漫的大雾仍在缭绕

她清晨就出了门,也没有说要去哪里
我们的小木屋就在半山中
屋后是丛林修竹,屋前有一条小溪
她也许是去了那片竹林里溜达
也许是在溪水边的石头上静坐

我心神不宁,倾听着她迟疑的徘徊的足音
我倾听了一上午,终于按捺不住
那足音似乎一直隐隐约约没有过间断
那大雾也久久盘桓,不肯消散

有过一只小鸟探头探脑来暗示过什么
足音、鸟鸣和她的面容交替闪现又隐没
我伸出头去,仍不见人影
我仿佛看到她正在随手采摘野果
草地上结着一个又一个小小的水网

雾消隐了泥泞地上所有清晰的脚印
我感到她还在山中,又好像已经不在

大雾隐瞒了她已经远去的真相
大雾掩饰了她早已消失的身影

Thick Fog

A week of heavy rain finally stopped.
The trees were still soaking wet, but took the chance
to put out new shoots.
Our quarrel continued from the night before
with a persistent gloom,
same as the fog that lingered on.

She went out in the early morning without saying where.
Our cabin perched halfway up the mountain,
with a bamboo grove in the back and a stream in front.
Maybe she was taking a stroll in the woods,
or sitting quietly on a boulder by the stream.

I felt restless, listening to her hesitant footsteps up and down.
I had listened to them all morning, and couldn’t bear it any more.
Those footsteps seemed nonstop,
and the fog lingered on, refusing to dissipate.

A bird flew by as if to probe or give a message.
Footsteps, birdsongs, and her face took turns to flash by.
Putting my head out, I did not see a soul,
but felt perhaps she was out there somewhere picking berries.
There were two small dewy webs on the grass.

The fog hid all the footprints on the muddy road.
I sensed she was still in the mountain, or perhaps not.

The fog concealed the fact that she was already gone.
The fog concealed her long-vanished figure.

——节选自《李少君 诗选》集。

 

 

 

新西兰 澳纽网出品
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