《龙死了》
没有听到雷声
只有雨的絮叨
以鳞片的秩序飞落
这个时节的北方
龙深藏于积云
对世间发生的一切
尚不知情，不然
怎会还是深埋龙头
龙对世间的一切
无法知情，因为
该发生的没有发生
比如喧哗的生机
而不该发生的
却这样发生了
比如，春天死了
再比如，龙也死了
The Loong is Dead
I hear no thunder
Except the murmuring of the rain
Falling in the order of scales
In this season of the north
The loong hides in thick clouds
Not knowing what occurs
To the world, or he'd
Not bury his head deep
The loong cannot know
Anything about the world, because
What should occur has not occurred
Say the chaotic vigor
While what should not occur
Did occur like this
Say the spring is dead
And the loong too is dead
《雨水》
仿佛雨就这样落下来
仿佛是落下来
仿佛是雨
仿佛是雨落下来
仿佛不是
确实不是雨
确实不是落下来
确实不是雨落下来
确实不是
只是一个节气
雨水会落下来
其实雨早就落下来
而且成了雪
雪又化成了水
先于雨水的时节
先于眼睛失明于暗夜
和白色的巫山云
Rain
It seems rain falls like this
It seems it falls
It seems it is rain
It seems it is rain that falls
It seems not
It sure is not rain
It sure is not falling
It sure is not the rain that falls
It sure is not
It is just a solar term
In which the rain would fall
In fact the rain did fall
And turned into snow
Which in turn melted into water
Long before the solar term
And even before the eyes went blind
In the dark night and the white clouds
《雪》
雪是天地的精灵，在枯萎的时刻声明季节
从墨色的夜幕上播放起未知的影片。我独自
等待，徘徊在满地精灵脚印的长路，分析
它们的舞步，到底是华尔兹还是天鹅湖。
夜色不紧不慢，奏起冬天的交响曲。
精灵们的舞步抒发出神圣的旨意，广布德泽，
湿润每一扇微启的心窗和窗内明媚的泓波。
这时的我，一看到漫天的雪，就想起你的样子。
Snow
Snow, the elves of earth, declares its season at the withering hour,
Showing an unknown film on the dark night screen, while I wait
Lonely and wander the long road full of the footprints of the elves,
Wondering whether their dance is Waltz or Ballet.
Night strolls on steadily, playing a symphony of winter
The dance walk of the elves expresses holy decree to bless all
Moistening every blinking window of heart and bright water inside
At the moment, on seeing the whirling snow, I recall your grace
《追日》
最终还是没有追上太阳，
它隐没在大地的苍茫之中。
我还在飞驰的子弹中眺望，
那一簇簇愤怒着向上的触须，
直到再也分辨不清暮色的轮廓。
此时，平原上的诗行跑起来，
树木跑起来，房屋跑起来，雪
也跑起来，纷纷向后跑出视野，
为茫茫的诗意跑出一个冬天。
Chasing After the Sun
I failed to catch up with the sun in the end
Which submerges itself in the vastness of the earth
I still am looking far into the distance from the shooting bullet
At the tufts of hairs that grow angrily upward
Until I cannot see clearly the outlines of the dusk
At the moment, verse starts to run on the plain
The trees start to run, the houses and the snow
They all start to run, out of my vision
To create a winter for the infinity of poetry
《和桃子的爱情》
那是我此生吃过的最好的桃子
红红的外衣软软的果肉把严肃的白包裹
在唇齿逗留的时光里我幻想着与它接吻
一个温婉的美女于是站在我的面前
就这么一个桃子，杀掉了我的凛然
我的道德，我混沌刻板的责任
我的这三位高士、原我沦陷在桃的香气中
整个春天突然进入盛夏，并期待着深秋
这样我的桃子可以结满整个眼眶
绿色的叶子是她曼妙的腰身和过腰的长发
我和桃子的吻让桃子看清了桃子的颜色
也让我进入了对所有幻想的幻想
除此之外，我和任何水果再也没有爱情
Love for the Peach
That was the best peach I ever tasted
The red peel and soft pulp enveloped the serious white
When my lips and teeth lingered, I fancied a kiss with it
And appeared before me a gorgeous beauty
Such is the peach, which killed my righteousness
My moral, my stiff and muddled responsibility
These three worriers and egos of mine were caught in the peach's scent
Suddenly the whole spring turned into high summer and longed for the late autumn
When my entire field of vision would be laden with peaches
With the green leaves dancing like her slender figure and waist-length hairs
My kiss with the peach let me see clearly the color of the peach
It too plunged me into the fancy for all fancies
Apart from this, I have no other love affair with any other fruits
《左右》
左，还是右
在黑夜里纠缠方向
身体已经没有了理性
麻木地对这个世界以最愤懑
无声的礼抗
左和右在镜面里互相沦陷
是两瓣缄默的红唇
放弃对情感音色的模仿
左就是左，右也是左
本来语言就是左脑的天下
而强行分辨的大水冲了龙王庙
忘记只有一个绝对的方向
就是我对巫山云的爱情
千古芳心，忽略所有语言
捧给你天然无饰的素妆
左，还是右
在黑夜里本没有方向
Left and Right
Left and right
Confuse their directions in dark night
Body has lost all rationality
Resisting the world numbly with the most
Angry and soundless manner
Left and right fall into each other’s hand in the mirror
This is two speechless red lips
Forsaking their simulation of emotional timbre
Left is left, right too is left
Language in the first place is the realm of the left brain
But the wave of compulsory differentiation backfires on Poseidon
Forgetting there is only one absolute direction
Which is my love to the clouds of Wushan
An age-old aromatic heart, ignoring all languages
Is sacrificed for your pure face without any make-up
——
Authored and translated by Brent Yan
木樨颜，原名颜海峰，男，曲阜人，常用笔名木樨黄谷、水中山，民盟盟员，北京外国语大学外国文学研究所博士研究生，山东政法学院副教授。兼任华人诗学会副会长，东西方艺术家协会副主席，国际比较文明学会中国比较文明分会理事，《国际诗歌翻译》季刊客座总编，美国诗刊《诗殿堂》执行翻译主编，国际学术期刊《商务翻译》副主编等职。著有古体诗集《一页水山》，出版译著20部，诗作散见于《诗文杂志》《天津诗人》《江南诗》《诗殿堂》等杂志期刊，并见录于《中国诗选》《双年诗经》等选本。曾获2016年第四届中国当代诗歌奖翻译奖等。
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大牛，别默默的看了，快登录帮我点评一下吧！:)
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