五十述怀张维

我已年届五十
朋友们越来越少
我经历的深渊成了自己的高度
站在虞山顶上
看见自己爬过的黑暗时刻
明白在那些恶的时辰里
自己就是一盏灯
一块地下行走的水晶
一部沙尘念诵的《金刚经》
现在风清云淡
来者欢迎 去者也欢送
我仍站在自己的高度里
不再恭候与奉迎
一壶茶在静静叙述
暮晚与山水里的秘密光阴
从我那年在一朵蘑菇云里出生
我经历的荒诞
比任何恶梦都奇幻险峻
我斗过自己的父亲
也恨过生下来就没有见过面的祖父
因为即使他用肉身喂给了那个饥饿的年代
罪名和血液仍河流一样流下来
在我发身的时候
我躲在被子里用手淫迎送青春的潮汐
即使爱情风暴一样来袭
在大地上也没有找到一张安身的床
革命的眼睛 手电筒一样在旅馆和
草地上巡视
只有墓地无人打扰
（死亡是那个时代最安全的床）
幸运的是我们经历了解放的喜悦
尽管时光短促 却成永恒的故乡
我做了十年的药剂师
在一本书里做过三年搬运工
并把自己当了主人
我又为这个时代的欲望建造房屋
把土地炒得越来越烫
使草木无法生长
我是一个药剂师一个诗人
一个书商 一个营销员 .....
好几个人活在我身上
我一个人活成好几个人


Self-Account at 50
Zhang Wei   

At the age of 50
My friends are getting fewer and fewer
The deepness I went through becomes my highness
Standing on top of the Yu Mountain
Overlooking the dark hours I had crawled past
I come to realize that during the hideous time
I myself was a lamp
A crystal walking underground
Or a Diamond Sutra read by sandstorm
Now all is calm, the breeze light and the clouds thin
The comers are welcome as well as the leavers
Yet I stand still in my own highness
No more expecting or flattering
Like a pot of tea narrating quietly
The secret time between the dusk and the landscape
Ever since the year I was born in a mushroom cloud
I have been undergoing absurdity
More thrilling and frightening than any nightmare
I had denounced my father
I had hated my grandfather dead before my birth
Because his sins and blood flowed down like rivers
Even though he fed the hungry times with his flesh
When I was growing, I hid under the quilt
And sated my youthful libido with masturbation
Even when love came striking like a storm
Not a bed was found on this land for me to rest
The revolutionary eyes, like the flashlight
Toured in hotels and on grasslands
Only the graves and tombs were not disturbed
(Death was the safest bed back in those days)
Luckily we tasted the joy of revolution
Short as it was, it became an eternity
For ten years I was a pharmacist
As a three-year porter in a book
I took myself as the master
Then I built houses for the lust of the age
Making land a hotter cake to sell
And the grass on it hard to grow
I was a pharmacist, a poet
A bookseller, a salesman, …
Several people lived on my body
And I singly lived like several in one


他们分割我 牵扯我 犹如
五马分尸 沙尘暴
像灵魂在自残在巅狂
直到上苍善意地收起我的双腿
让我在一棵柳树前停下来
让我看见柳暗花明里的故乡
我这才想起
我是否活过了头
我是否活在来世里
我是否晃然活过了几个世纪？

They cut me up, dragged me or pulled me
Like five horses pulling apart a human body or sandstorm. Or like the soul maiming madly itself  
Until Heaven kindly took back my legs
and ceased me in front of a willow tree
through whose dancing leaves I saw my hometown
only by then I came to realize
whether I had outlived my destiny
or if I was living in my afterlife
after squandering several centuries of age


我已年届五十
朋友们越来越少
我经历的深渊成了自己的高度
我看见人世的大腹便便里盛满饥饿的记忆
他们暴饮暴食 好似复活的饕餮
无非是想在补偿中遗忘
在报复和自残里反复抵达
直到一降痛风刮过身体
一个人在墙角不停地抽搐
才知道我们的罪孽有多深重
才看见灯红酒绿里快乐和地狱有同一场景
我看见那些打人的人 砸庙的人
那些天不怕地不怕红色的人
他们在白天鲜活光亮
而黑暗成了他的负担
他不敢睡觉 闭上眼
那些冤死的人在夜空中盯着他
那些破碎的神在墙角和门缝
弄出一丝声响
他们躲在酒瓶和安眠药里
而黑暗无处不在
探照灯是不眠的眼睛
我看见 我就是你 你就是他
在“重庆”快乐的火锅里
煎熬着 沸腾着
欢乐里深埋着的痛苦在舞蹈
这世界 狂躁烦热
因为死者活着
在尘埃和半空游荡
他们没有土地
因而没有语言
在人间半死不活


At the age of 50
My friends are getting fewer and fewer
The deepness I went through becomes my highness
I see hungry memories fill in the worldly fullness
They surfeit themselves like the fifth son of the dragon king
Desiring nothing but to forget in redemption
Or to achieve repeatedly in revenge and self-infliction
Until a gust of gout strikes through the body
When a person twitches continuously in a corner
We start to know how grave our sins are
And see hearty happiness and hell share the same scene
I see those bullies, those temple-breakers
Those who are afraid of nothing, including the red
Live a bright and vivid life in daytime
But dark becomes their burden so
That they dare not to close their eyes to sleep
Those wronged souls are staring at them in the night sky
The broken Gods
hiding in the wine bottles and sleeping pills
Make a subtle noise in wall corners and door cracks
But dark is everywhere
And the searchlights are the sleepless eyes
I see that I am me and you are him
Boiling and suffering
In the happy hot pot of “Chongqing”
Dancing is the pain that is deep buried in happiness
The whole world is frantic and fretful
Because the dead are still alive
Loitering in dust and mid-air
They have no land of their own
So they have no language of their own
More dead than alive in the world


而人间因没有真正的死亡
也就没有真正的出生
如果死者没有死去
我们就得替他们死去
如果神灵没有归位到天上
我们就得借自然的梯送达天上
只有死者死去 生者才能出生
天地才得清明
人世才得安宁 蓝天才成屋顶

Yet there is no real death in this human world
No real birth for this reason
If the dead are not dead
We should then die instead, taking their place
If the spirits have not ascended to heaven
We should then avail ourselves of the ladder of nature
Only when the dead are dead, the alive can be born
The sky and earth would be distinct and clear
And the world tranquil, the blue sky becomes our roof


我已年届五十
朋友越来越少
我经历的深渊成了自己的高度
这深渊等同生死
因此也就无畏生死
十里青山缓缓而来
藏海寺轻轻落在虞山山顶
长江终于奔流到东海不复回
一路留下的都是惊心动魄的风景
只有一颗心放下
化成静静的太湖在薄暮中闪烁
她们美得无言
美得让我们忘记苦难和忧伤
美得只有喜悦在静静地吹拂
而没有欢乐的声音
美得如垃圾场角落上的一滴露珠
在毁弃中也分泌出人世的骄傲
和清净的光辉
风中传来一阵阵诵经的声音
我听到的全是对苦难的赞美
我是否活过了头
我是否活在来世里
我是否恍然活过了几个世纪
我的磨难画成了万水千山
辽阔壮美
仿佛我就是山高水长 万里湖山
我为自己活在这个时代
拥有堆积如山的苦难宝藏
而心怀感激
在我五十岁的时候
我俯视自己
我经历的深渊成了自己的高度
那一夜 我一人流泪到天明

I am already at my fifty
My friends are getting fewer and fewer
The deepness I went through becomes my highness
This deepness amounts to the gravity of birth and death
Thus, it fears no death
The green mountains come slowly from afar
Canghai Temple lands softly atop Yu Mountain
The Yangtze River flows to the East Sea without return
Leaving behind along the way all the thrilling scenery
Only a heart is put down
Turning into the quiet Taihu Lake glittering in the twilight
Their beauty is beyond words
So much so that we forget the sufferings and sorrow
And that only joy is blowing silently
Without any sound of it
And that it’s just like a drop of dew at the corner of a dump
Which even in its disposal secretes the earthly pride
And the pure light
A chanting comes forward with the wind
But it’s all but compliment on hardship
Am I get tired and sick of living
Am I just living in the afterlife
Have I lived suddenly past several centuries
My sufferings are like a scroll painting of hills and rills
That stretch and spread spectacularly
As if I am the high hill or the rolling rill
I am in a heartfelt gratitude
For my living in this era
In possession of so mountainous treasure of miseries
When I am at my fifty
I look down at myself
The deepness I went through becomes my highness
That night, all alone, I teared as the day broke


泪水滴入深渊
大海瞬间收缩为放生池
在霞光中静静地闪耀
我剩下的几个朋友个个都是琥珀珍珠
将被未来的时代秘密珍藏
但此刻 陈年的“梅兰春”
已经打开 她的幽香已发出邀请
虞山顶上 蓝天好像一张宴席
我们坐拥万古江山
像古画里的人一样
梅兰竹菊 抱月而醉 拥水而弹
竹林里谁一声长啸 天高地清月亮小

And my tears dropped into the deepness
when all of a sudden, the great ocean shrank to a temple fish pool
that glitters placidly in the red glow
Each of the few remained friends of mine are pearls and ambers
which will be treasured secretly by the future age
But now, the aged lofty spring
Has come to, with its subtle scent inviting
On top of Yu Mountain the sky stretches like a camp sheet
We are here to embrace and enjoy the past and present scenes
Like the figures painted in an ancient scroll
With virtuous plants and flowers around, drinking to the moon
Playing and singing, when a deep howl from nowhere wakes us all




张维，生于1964年，居于常熟虞山尚湖之畔，著有《诗七十五首》《灵性的时代》《生的超越》《向》等，主编《海子骆一禾作品集》《十年诗选》等（与朋友合编）。三月三诗会组委会成员，现为虞山当代美术馆馆长。

五十述怀张维

我已年届五十
朋友们越来越少
我经历的深渊成了自己的高度
站在虞山顶上
看见自己爬过的黑暗时刻
明白在那些恶的时辰里
自己就是一盏灯
一块地下行走的水晶
一部沙尘念诵的《金刚经》
现在风清云淡
来者欢迎 去者也欢送
我仍站在自己的高度里
不再恭候与奉迎
一壶茶在静静叙述
暮晚与山水里的秘密光阴
从我那年在一朵蘑菇云里出生
我经历的荒诞
比任何恶梦都奇幻险峻
我斗过自己的父亲
也恨过生下来就没有见过面的祖父
因为即使他用肉身喂给了那个饥饿的年代
罪名和血液仍河流一样流下来
在我发身的时候
我躲在被子里用手淫迎送青春的潮汐
即使爱情风暴一样来袭
在大地上也没有找到一张安身的床
革命的眼睛 手电筒一样在旅馆和
草地上巡视
只有墓地无人打扰
（死亡是那个时代最安全的床）
幸运的是我们经历了解放的喜悦
尽管时光短促 却成永恒的故乡
我做了十年的药剂师
在一本书里做过三年搬运工
并把自己当了主人
我又为这个时代的欲望建造房屋
把土地炒得越来越烫
使草木无法生长
我是一个药剂师一个诗人
一个书商 一个营销员 .....
好几个人活在我身上
我一个人活成好几个人


Self-Account at 50
Zhang Wei   

At the age of 50
My friends are getting fewer and fewer
The deepness I went through becomes my highness
Standing on top of the Yu Mountain
Overlooking the dark hours I had crawled past
I come to realize that during the hideous time
I myself was a lamp
A crystal walking underground
Or a Diamond Sutra read by sandstorm
Now all is calm, the breeze light and the clouds thin
The comers are welcome as well as the leavers
Yet I stand still in my own highness
No more expecting or flattering
Like a pot of tea narrating quietly
The secret time between the dusk and the landscape
Ever since the year I was born in a mushroom cloud
I have been undergoing absurdity
More thrilling and frightening than any nightmare
I had denounced my father
I had hated my grandfather dead before my birth
Because his sins and blood flowed down like rivers
Even though he fed the hungry times with his flesh
When I was growing, I hid under the quilt
And sated my youthful libido with masturbation
Even when love came striking like a storm
Not a bed was found on this land for me to rest
The revolutionary eyes, like the flashlight
Toured in hotels and on grasslands
Only the graves and tombs were not disturbed
(Death was the safest bed back in those days)
Luckily we tasted the joy of revolution
Short as it was, it became an eternity
For ten years I was a pharmacist
As a three-year porter in a book
I took myself as the master
Then I built houses for the lust of the age
Making land a hotter cake to sell
And the grass on it hard to grow
I was a pharmacist, a poet
A bookseller, a salesman, …
Several people lived on my body
And I singly lived like several in one


他们分割我 牵扯我 犹如
五马分尸 沙尘暴
像灵魂在自残在巅狂
直到上苍善意地收起我的双腿
让我在一棵柳树前停下来
让我看见柳暗花明里的故乡
我这才想起
我是否活过了头
我是否活在来世里
我是否晃然活过了几个世纪？

They cut me up, dragged me or pulled me
Like five horses pulling apart a human body or sandstorm. Or like the soul maiming madly itself  
Until Heaven kindly took back my legs
and ceased me in front of a willow tree
through whose dancing leaves I saw my hometown
only by then I came to realize
whether I had outlived my destiny
or if I was living in my afterlife
after squandering several centuries of age


我已年届五十
朋友们越来越少
我经历的深渊成了自己的高度
我看见人世的大腹便便里盛满饥饿的记忆
他们暴饮暴食 好似复活的饕餮
无非是想在补偿中遗忘
在报复和自残里反复抵达
直到一降痛风刮过身体
一个人在墙角不停地抽搐
才知道我们的罪孽有多深重
才看见灯红酒绿里快乐和地狱有同一场景
我看见那些打人的人 砸庙的人
那些天不怕地不怕红色的人
他们在白天鲜活光亮
而黑暗成了他的负担
他不敢睡觉 闭上眼
那些冤死的人在夜空中盯着他
那些破碎的神在墙角和门缝
弄出一丝声响
他们躲在酒瓶和安眠药里
而黑暗无处不在
探照灯是不眠的眼睛
我看见 我就是你 你就是他
在“重庆”快乐的火锅里
煎熬着 沸腾着
欢乐里深埋着的痛苦在舞蹈
这世界 狂躁烦热
因为死者活着
在尘埃和半空游荡
他们没有土地
因而没有语言
在人间半死不活


At the age of 50
My friends are getting fewer and fewer
The deepness I went through becomes my highness
I see hungry memories fill in the worldly fullness
They surfeit themselves like the fifth son of the dragon king
Desiring nothing but to forget in redemption
Or to achieve repeatedly in revenge and self-infliction
Until a gust of gout strikes through the body
When a person twitches continuously in a corner
We start to know how grave our sins are
And see hearty happiness and hell share the same scene
I see those bullies, those temple-breakers
Those who are afraid of nothing, including the red
Live a bright and vivid life in daytime
But dark becomes their burden so
That they dare not to close their eyes to sleep
Those wronged souls are staring at them in the night sky
The broken Gods
hiding in the wine bottles and sleeping pills
Make a subtle noise in wall corners and door cracks
But dark is everywhere
And the searchlights are the sleepless eyes
I see that I am me and you are him
Boiling and suffering
In the happy hot pot of “Chongqing”
Dancing is the pain that is deep buried in happiness
The whole world is frantic and fretful
Because the dead are still alive
Loitering in dust and mid-air
They have no land of their own
So they have no language of their own
More dead than alive in the world


而人间因没有真正的死亡
也就没有真正的出生
如果死者没有死去
我们就得替他们死去
如果神灵没有归位到天上
我们就得借自然的梯送达天上
只有死者死去 生者才能出生
天地才得清明
人世才得安宁 蓝天才成屋顶

Yet there is no real death in this human world
No real birth for this reason
If the dead are not dead
We should then die instead, taking their place
If the spirits have not ascended to heaven
We should then avail ourselves of the ladder of nature
Only when the dead are dead, the alive can be born
The sky and earth would be distinct and clear
And the world tranquil, the blue sky becomes our roof


我已年届五十
朋友越来越少
我经历的深渊成了自己的高度
这深渊等同生死
因此也就无畏生死
十里青山缓缓而来
藏海寺轻轻落在虞山山顶
长江终于奔流到东海不复回
一路留下的都是惊心动魄的风景
只有一颗心放下
化成静静的太湖在薄暮中闪烁
她们美得无言
美得让我们忘记苦难和忧伤
美得只有喜悦在静静地吹拂
而没有欢乐的声音
美得如垃圾场角落上的一滴露珠
在毁弃中也分泌出人世的骄傲
和清净的光辉
风中传来一阵阵诵经的声音
我听到的全是对苦难的赞美
我是否活过了头
我是否活在来世里
我是否恍然活过了几个世纪
我的磨难画成了万水千山
辽阔壮美
仿佛我就是山高水长 万里湖山
我为自己活在这个时代
拥有堆积如山的苦难宝藏
而心怀感激
在我五十岁的时候
我俯视自己
我经历的深渊成了自己的高度
那一夜 我一人流泪到天明

I am already at my fifty
My friends are getting fewer and fewer
The deepness I went through becomes my highness
This deepness amounts to the gravity of birth and death
Thus, it fears no death
The green mountains come slowly from afar
Canghai Temple lands softly atop Yu Mountain
The Yangtze River flows to the East Sea without return
Leaving behind along the way all the thrilling scenery
Only a heart is put down
Turning into the quiet Taihu Lake glittering in the twilight
Their beauty is beyond words
So much so that we forget the sufferings and sorrow
And that only joy is blowing silently
Without any sound of it
And that it’s just like a drop of dew at the corner of a dump
Which even in its disposal secretes the earthly pride
And the pure light
A chanting comes forward with the wind
But it’s all but compliment on hardship
Am I get tired and sick of living
Am I just living in the afterlife
Have I lived suddenly past several centuries
My sufferings are like a scroll painting of hills and rills
That stretch and spread spectacularly
As if I am the high hill or the rolling rill
I am in a heartfelt gratitude
For my living in this era
In possession of so mountainous treasure of miseries
When I am at my fifty
I look down at myself
The deepness I went through becomes my highness
That night, all alone, I teared as the day broke


泪水滴入深渊
大海瞬间收缩为放生池
在霞光中静静地闪耀
我剩下的几个朋友个个都是琥珀珍珠
将被未来的时代秘密珍藏
但此刻 陈年的“梅兰春”
已经打开 她的幽香已发出邀请
虞山顶上 蓝天好像一张宴席
我们坐拥万古江山
像古画里的人一样
梅兰竹菊 抱月而醉 拥水而弹
竹林里谁一声长啸 天高地清月亮小

And my tears dropped into the deepness
when all of a sudden, the great ocean shrank to a temple fish pool
that glitters placidly in the red glow
Each of the few remained friends of mine are pearls and ambers
which will be treasured secretly by the future age
But now, the aged lofty spring
Has come to, with its subtle scent inviting
On top of Yu Mountain the sky stretches like a camp sheet
We are here to embrace and enjoy the past and present scenes
Like the figures painted in an ancient scroll
With virtuous plants and flowers around, drinking to the moon
Playing and singing, when a deep howl from nowhere wakes us all




张维，生于1964年，居于常熟虞山尚湖之畔，著有《诗七十五首》《灵性的时代》《生的超越》《向》等，主编《海子骆一禾作品集》《十年诗选》等（与朋友合编）。三月三诗会组委会成员，现为虞山当代美术馆馆长。