胡弦诗歌2首/英译：水柔

临江阁听琴

有人在鼓琴，干瘦的十指试图
理清一段流水。窗外，
涛声也响着——何种混合正在制造
与音乐完全不同之物？
——你得相信，声音也有听觉，它们
参与对方，又相互听取，
让我想起，我也是从一个很远的地方
来到这里，像一支曲子
离开乐器独自远行，到最后才明白，
所谓经历，不是地域，而是时间之神秘。
现在，稍稍凝神，就能听到琴声中那些
从我们内心取走的东西。
乐声中，江水的旧躯体仍容易激动，仍有
数不清的旋涡寄存其中，用以
取悦的旋转轻盈如初，而那怀抱里，
秘密、复杂的爱，随乐声翻滚，
又看不见，想抱紧它们，
一直以来都艰难万分。

Listening to  zither playing at Linjiang Pavilion

Someone is playing the zither ，skinny fingers trying to clear a flow of water.
Out of the window，the sound of the waves is  also audible -- what kind of mixture is being made，
completely different from music.
I have to believe that sounds have hearing, too.
They participate in each other and listen to each other，which reminds me that I am here，also coming from a far away place like a tune
leaving the instrument to travel alone.
I finally understand experience is not a place, but the mystery of time.
Now, if I concentrate a little, I can hear something in the music taken away from our hearts .
In the music, the old body of the river is still excitable and alive.
Countless vortices are stored in it .
The spin to please is as light as before.
In that embrace,secret and complicated love roll with the music.
I can't see them, but I want to hold them tight
It's been tough.

花 园

你知道当我坐在这条长凳上时
许多年代已过去了，
许多人许多事，有的消失，有的
已被写进了书里。


当我坐在这条长凳上，
当不知名的鸟儿鸣叫，
当不识字的南风一次次经过，我意识到为此
写一首诗的确是多余的。


地上，斑驳的树影和从前一样，
除了那向每阵风倾斜的新枝。
无数被混淆的岁月，沙沙响。
一座花园，正是那失而复得的花园。

Garden

You know when I sit on this bench，
many years have passed,
Among many people  and many things, some disappear while others are written in the books.

When I sit on this bench,
When some unknown bird sings,
When the illiterate south wind passes again and again,
I realize that writing a poem for it is really superfluous.

On the ground ，the dappled shadows of the trees are as they used to be，except for the branches that lean to every gust.
Countless confused years rustle
A garden is exactly the regained garden.

作者简介：胡弦，1966年生，现居南京。出版诗集《阵雨》《沙漏》《空楼梯》、散文集《菜蔬小语》《永远无法返乡的人》等。2018年，诗集《沙漏》获第七届鲁迅文学奖。
Brief introduction of the author：
Xian Hu， born in 1966, lives in Nanjing. He has published collections of poetry Shower, Hourglass, Empty Stairs, and collections of prose Little Words of Vegetables, and People Who Can Never Return Home, etc. In 2018, the collection  Hourglass won the 7th Lu Xun Literature Prize.

胡弦诗歌2首/英译：水柔

临江阁听琴

有人在鼓琴，干瘦的十指试图
理清一段流水。窗外，
涛声也响着——何种混合正在制造
与音乐完全不同之物？
——你得相信，声音也有听觉，它们
参与对方，又相互听取，
让我想起，我也是从一个很远的地方
来到这里，像一支曲子
离开乐器独自远行，到最后才明白，
所谓经历，不是地域，而是时间之神秘。
现在，稍稍凝神，就能听到琴声中那些
从我们内心取走的东西。
乐声中，江水的旧躯体仍容易激动，仍有
数不清的旋涡寄存其中，用以
取悦的旋转轻盈如初，而那怀抱里，
秘密、复杂的爱，随乐声翻滚，
又看不见，想抱紧它们，
一直以来都艰难万分。

Listening to  zither playing at Linjiang Pavilion

Someone is playing the zither ，skinny fingers trying to clear a flow of water.
Out of the window，the sound of the waves is  also audible -- what kind of mixture is being made，
completely different from music.
I have to believe that sounds have hearing, too.
They participate in each other and listen to each other，which reminds me that I am here，also coming from a far away place like a tune
leaving the instrument to travel alone.
I finally understand experience is not a place, but the mystery of time.
Now, if I concentrate a little, I can hear something in the music taken away from our hearts .
In the music, the old body of the river is still excitable and alive.
Countless vortices are stored in it .
The spin to please is as light as before.
In that embrace,secret and complicated love roll with the music.
I can't see them, but I want to hold them tight
It's been tough.

花 园

你知道当我坐在这条长凳上时
许多年代已过去了，
许多人许多事，有的消失，有的
已被写进了书里。


当我坐在这条长凳上，
当不知名的鸟儿鸣叫，
当不识字的南风一次次经过，我意识到为此
写一首诗的确是多余的。


地上，斑驳的树影和从前一样，
除了那向每阵风倾斜的新枝。
无数被混淆的岁月，沙沙响。
一座花园，正是那失而复得的花园。

Garden

You know when I sit on this bench，
many years have passed,
Among many people  and many things, some disappear while others are written in the books.

When I sit on this bench,
When some unknown bird sings,
When the illiterate south wind passes again and again,
I realize that writing a poem for it is really superfluous.

On the ground ，the dappled shadows of the trees are as they used to be，except for the branches that lean to every gust.
Countless confused years rustle
A garden is exactly the regained garden.

作者简介：胡弦，1966年生，现居南京。出版诗集《阵雨》《沙漏》《空楼梯》、散文集《菜蔬小语》《永远无法返乡的人》等。2018年，诗集《沙漏》获第七届鲁迅文学奖。
Brief introduction of the author：
Xian Hu， born in 1966, lives in Nanjing. He has published collections of poetry Shower, Hourglass, Empty Stairs, and collections of prose Little Words of Vegetables, and People Who Can Never Return Home, etc. In 2018, the collection  Hourglass won the 7th Lu Xun Literature Prize.