李志亮[河南] 新作八首[中英对照，马婷婷 译]
李志亮[河南]
新作八首
珊瑚礁墓志铭
你没有死，你还活着，
海水浸润着你满身的创伤，
巨浪冲撞着你巍峨身躯，
晚上处处闻到金星上奏的仙人音乐，
木星上闻到了桂花香醇，
从你十亿细胞中获得的坚毅。
你没有死，你还活着，
你强悍的双手，
推开海浪地冲击，
在风瀑中诞生的名字，
珊瑚礁——
用他的风骨挡住海的啸傲，
他是堤围的悍勇者，
他是城市的保驾神。
你没有死，你还活着，
我伫立在大山之上呐喊，
“我敬慕您珊瑚礁”
天下奇闻多么壮观
天地有正气，足以养人。
我是一棵树
我全身血管沸腾，
梅花握住我的手，
我是走向太阳一棵树。
月亮跳跃我的发丝，
泪水刺痛瞳孔的笑声，
流动的血液在我身上变冷。
蓦地，一枚种子在我血管中发芽，
在血管枝上爆发出新绿，
缝合我维度的伤口。
我闻着绿肥的香气，
催醒我的沉默，
向着太阳奋然前行，
我虔诚的心呀，
是打开冰冻三尺钥匙。
我不知道
我不知道大钟时针停止旋绕，
我知道冬天降生，
还有雪山溶化，
滴沥成河韵律。
我知道一棵小草坠到千丈深渊，
我知道在大海中寻觅着一座桥，
或是一条船。
我知道，
无声无语绿草渴盼阳光，
冬天里坚毅追随着您的光艳。
我知道蜜蜂嘤嘤嗡嗡低唱，
瞳孔里倾听太阳回响，
我的诗行化作一条猛烈闪电，
照亮哑默的夜空。
观海怀古
茫茫大海吞吃大山深谷，
我泼墨诗瘦了，
漠漠海浪接天地，
滔滔浪花击落群星，
灿然炫目的晨阳从海中吐出，
伸手握住太阳的手，
我的高维心灵感应是：
遥想蓬莱仙岛，仙人，仙药，
秦始皇妄想长生不老，
徐福不知何处寻？
唯见天地广阔，
千年海浪翻腾，
增长知识的广角镜，
今人不见古时月，
今月曾照古时人。
暴雨过后阳光是灿烂的
平原天空辽远，
用白鹭翅膀无法测量量度。
风雨过，艳阳冉冉来，
阳光是灿烂的。
画图层层开眼，
白鹭双双动鸣。
鱼虾惊怕逃离，
松竹翠翠，情绪高昂，
阳光是灿烂的。
红了桃花，始盛开，
白了梨花，冷艳欺雪。
海棠娇娆全在欲开时，
面对长天叹气诗瘦，
我测量着大地量程，
阳光是灿烂的。
天高地迥，宇宙无穷，
田野上一对鹤飞升，
蓝天回望千山万水，
日光在河面闪耀，
阳光是灿烂的。
雪消融
晨光留下温暖的函件，
消融雪散发出三两春气。
千棵垂柳争绿，
万棵垂杨翦春。
暖蜂采制带来一分春游，
黑蝶双翅，挥动二钱春分点。
翩跹小燕，
倒影平静湖水中。
水涨鱼游拍岸，
一番春信寄户来。
花开莺啼晨阳，
鸭鸣鹅喜香闹。
柳树用诗赞美“春天到了”，
中国飞船在宇宙中航行。
握别
握一下你这双巨匠的手，
它扶过我曾走过的路，
天山雪不溶化，
千峰雪崔嵬，
厚雪以上马蹄疾。
我拥戴你的精神，
你越野千里无村庄，
穷荒绝漠鸟不飞，
呼吸着沸热的空气。
你经过春秋时有飞雪青海，
唯有夏天呈现出芳草之路。
你跨越湘江之战血成河，
长征路上红旗飘飘。
别时容易，见时难，
秋中夕阳是最佳，
远鸿在长空中急智飞翔，
不要恨时光无情，
路走到尽头是春天。
海棠院中溶溶月，
柳树池边淡淡风。
走向阳光
飞雨鸣高塔，
小燕子藏在高屋下，
雨在荷叶上跳探戈，
蓦地，阳光露出笑语。
雾霭横行，
大自然吞吃一片鸥鹭，
此时，东风消瘦，
蓦地，阳光露出笑语。
在网络时代，
不要追向是是非非，
人的眼睛看到晨光，
鼻翼听到阳光的笑语。
我走向阳光，
阳光扶我的身体，
我挺身迈开大步，
浪花推着晨阳，
光赫赫峥嵘奇伟。
Li Zhiliag [Henan]
Eight Latest Poems
Epitaph of the Coral Reef
You are not dead. You are still alive.
In seawater, all the wounds on you are immersed,
on and on, your lofty body dashed against by huge waves.
Everywhere at night, music by the immortal heard from Venus,
mellowness of the osmanthus fragrans smelt from Jupiter,
perseverance is gained from the billion cells of you.
You are not dead. You are still alive.
Your mighty hands
push away the impacts of waves.
With the name born in the storm,
Coral Reef—
with his bones against the haughty howling of the sea
protects the embarkment as a valiant
and serves the city as a eudemon
You are not dead. You are still alive.
Standing on the mountain I cry:
“I worship you, Coral Reef.”
How magnificent is this fantastic world
where there’s righteousness to nourish our souls.
I Am a Tree
All my blood vessels boiling,
my hands held by plum blossoms,
I am a tree walking towards the sun.
The moon jumping among my hair,
tears pricking the laughter of pupils,
flowing blood turns cold in my body.
Suddenly, a seed sprouts from my blood vessels,
with an outburst of fresh green,
stitching the wounds of my dimensionality.
With the pleasant smell of green manure
awakening my silence,
I stride forward towards the sun.
O my heart of devotion,
it is the key to the solid ice.
I Don’t Know
I don’t know when the hour hand of the clock will stop,
but I know the birth of winter,
and the snow melting down the mountain,
dripping into the rhythm of the river.
I know a grass’s falling down to the abyss.
I know a bridge being sought for in the sea,
or maybe a boat.
I know that
green grass is aspiring to the sunshine in silence,
following your brilliance in winter with perseverance.
I know the buzzing and humming of the bees,
and listen to the sun’s echoes in pupils.
My verses turn into a fierce lightening,
illuminating the mute night sky.
Meditation on the Ancient Time Before the Sea
The boundless sea has devoured the mountain and its valley.
My ink is splashed, while poems turn meagre.
Endless waves extend up to the heaven and down to the earth.
Surging sprays shoot down the stars.
Gorgeous and glaring, the morning sun was disgorged out from the sea.
I stretch out my hand to hold that of the sun,
and my high dimensional telepathy is:
There were Penglai Fairy Island, the immortal, the elixir,
and the first emperor of Qin under the illusion of getting immortal.
Where was Xu Fu, the famous spagyrist in Qin Dynasty?
Before me, there is only the vast world.
Waves of thousand years keep rising and rolling.
With the wide-angle lens,
people today cannot see the moon in the ancient time,
while the moon today once shone on the ancient people.
The Sunshine Is Brilliant After the Rainstorm
Vast and far as the sky above the plain is,
it cannot be measured by egrets’ wings.
After the rainstorm, slowly the bright sun comes out.
The sunshine is brilliant.
Layer upon layer the landscape opens;
pairs with pairs the egrets fly and sing.
Fish and shrimps frightened flee.
Verdant pine trees and bamboos are in high spirits.
The sunshine is brilliant.
It sets peach flowers blooming in red,
and flatters pear flowers in white, more charming than snow.
Malus spectabilis are enchanting when they’re about to bloom.
Facing the sky, sighing over my meagre verses,
I am measuring the rang of the earth.
The sunshine is brilliant.
The sky high above, the earth vast below, the universe is boundless.
A pair of cranes fly up over the fields,
in the blue sky looking back to the mountains and rivers,
sun rays glittering on the river surface.
The sunshine is brilliant.
Melting of the Snow
Morning rays have left warm letters
to melt the snow and send out a few breaths of spring.
Line upon line, willow trees strive for green.
Row upon row, they cut down spring.
Bees in warm air are collecting nectar to invite a spring-outing,
Butterflies in back dress flapping two wings to show their dots of Spring Equinox.
Little swallows are dancing briskly,
casting their shadows on the peaceful lake.
River water rises and fish are swimming to the bank.
A letter of spring is sent to the household.
In the morning sun, flowers bloom and warblers are singing,
and in fragrance ducks quacking, geese having fun.
Willows eulogize “spring’s coming” with poetry.
Spaceships of China are flying in the universe.
Shaking Hands for Departing
I just hold your hand, a great master’ hand,
which has helped me all along my road.
Even the snow never melts on Tianshan Mountains’
high peaks,
I keep smooth and steady while riding on the snowy road.
I favour your spirit.
You’ve marched for thousands of miles to places
of wilderness or wasteland without a village even a bird,
breathing in the heated air.
You’ve experienced spring and autumn with flying snow at times,
and only in summer the road is covered with verdant grass.
You’ve gone through the bloody Xiangjiang Battle,
red flags fluttering along the road of Long March.
It is easy to depart, but hard to meet.
The best would be the setting sun in autumn, with
wild geese flying high in the sky with wits and bravery.
Do not complain about time, the merciless one,
since in the end of the road, there will be spring everywhere.
In the courtyard full of malus spectabilis, the moon is white and bright,
by the pool of willow trees, the wind being gentle and light.
Walking Towards the Sunshine
Flying raindrops toll the tower,
little swallows hidden under high roof,
drizzles dancing the tango on lotus leaves.
Suddenly, sunshine gives a smile.
Fog rampant,
nature has devoured a beachful of herons and gulls.
Then, the east wind gets thinner.
Suddenly, sunshine gives a smile.
In the era of network,
do not be obsessive about the rights and wrongs.
People’s eyes should see the morning light,
and their noses should hear the smiling of sunshine.
I walk towards the sunshine,
and it helps me
to straight myself and stride forward.
Waves are pushing along the morning sun,
brilliantly shining, marvelous and magnificent.
(Tr. Dr. Ma Tingting；马婷婷博士 译)
作者简介
李志亮，河南省民权县人，1945年生，笔名李鹏甫。中国当代知名诗人、作家。中国作家协会会员，国际诗歌翻译研究中心终身研究员，原河南省诗歌学会顾问，中外散文诗学会理事。十六岁开始诗歌、散文、散文诗、小说等写作。在《人民日报》《光明日报》《世界诗人》《香港诗网络》《诗潮》《散文诗世界》《散文选刊》《奔流》《美国加州诗歌》杂志、《菲律宾商报》《泰国中华时报》等近百家报刊发表2600余篇（首），部分诗作被译介到美国、英国、德国、罗马尼亚、印度等国。曾获多种文学奖。出版《李志亮精短诗选》《刚走第一步》《李志亮散文诗精选》《李志亮小说选》等著作十余部。
About the author
Li Zhiliang, born in December, 1945, is a native of Minquan County, Henan Province. Under the pen name of Li Pengfu, he is a famous poet-writer in contemporary China. He is a member of Chinese Writers’ Association, life-long researcher of the International Poetry Translation Research Center, former advisor of Henan Poetry Society, and director of Chinese and Overseas Prose Poetry Society. He began writing poems, prose pieces, prose poems, and short stories at 16, and has published 2,600 pieces on one hundred various newspapers and magazines such as People’s Daily, Guangming Daily, The World Poets Quarterly, Hong Kong Poetry Network, Poetry Tide, The World of Prose Poems, Selected Prose Pieces, Surging Waves, American Californian Poetry, Business Newspaper of the Philippines, Chung Hua Daily of Thailand. Some of his poems have been translated and introduced to America, Britain, Germany, Romania, and India, etc. He has won several literary awards with his publication of ten-odd books including Choice Selection of Short Poems of Li Zhiliang, The First Step, Choice Selection of Prose Poems of Li Zhiliang, and Selection of Short Stories of Li Zhiliang, etc.