胡燕青 | Wu Yin-ching

 

 

中文

 

悼亡

 

 

木架上的書再少一本

留下手的幻覺

下午的陰影潛入

發亮的時間

餘光中,塵埃靜靜吸收了

微細的虛隙

 

客廳沿軸旋轉

窗外景深游移

安樂椅的長背漸次靠後

木料朽壞的聲音

在聽覺的餘末上浮游

 

房頂小瓦

啃囓著藍光流蕩的傍晚

色盲的貓伏在簷脊上

即將遠行的靈魂

也伏在簷脊上

 

大提琴弦線的末端

影子漸漸變淡

風從一個方向

將他釋放

 

English

 

MOURNING

 

 

On the wooden shelf, one book less.

The hand, forgetful, lingers

at the glow of afternoon

as the shades close in.

From each crevice, silent dust

blots up what light is left.

 

The living room turns on its axis.

Beyond the window, a shift in depth of field.

The long spine of the armchair eases back,

the creak of its ancient frame

adrift on failing ears.

 

Overhead, at the blue pool of evening,

the rooftiles’ teeth. On their ridge

a crouching, colorblind cat,

and one soul

perched for its long journey.

 

The shadows rise

with a cello’s falling notes,

and from its own source,

wind sets loose the spirit.

 

trans. © Diana Shi & George O’Connell

 

more by Wu Yin-ching

白瓷花碗 | While Porcelain Flower Bowl

微息 | Fine Subtle Breathing

吃過晚飯 | After Dinner

活結 | Slipknot

我們又落入薄色的街 | Again We Enter the Dim Street

一碗熱麵 | A Bowl of Hot Noodles

對窗習字 | Written by the Window

聚散 | Meeting, Parting

夕航 | Twilight Voyage

Winter 2014-15

Vyacheslav Kupriyanov | 维雅·库普里扬诺夫

翟永明 | Zhai Yongming

Woodcuts © 王嶷 | Wang Yi