Chongwenmen Market
Its doors are winter coats, dressed for the season
like dumpling wrappers: the snapped dough
rolled in wafer rounds, deft hands cupping
pork mince and scallion into ear-nipped jiaozi.
Ahead, river trout squirm on wet marble
like sprung bows as fresh as a definition,
flipping alongside crates of blue crab;
and, fresher still, whole tanks of catfish
plucked from the water in barely a cleaver’s drop.
I intone in snail Mandarin the prices of eggs,
pork belly, mutton, counting change in the abacus
of a new speech and would like to say more:
something about the colours of the aubergines,
the less recognized fruits, the tastes of them.
- from A Force That Takes (2013)
A Side of Gravadlax
Orange-pink fillet slipped from its vacuum pack,
sinews and scent of dill, crystals of salt and sugar,
a knife so sharp its blade can neither slide nor slip.
Then debates of serving like lovers’ tiffs: lemon
no lemon, rocks of black pepper, a dusting of cayenne,
sandwich sheets or box-cut ‘sashimi’ strips.
This fish, caught in Scotland, cured as the Scandinavians
preserve, freighted to Oxford, pressed in my winter hands,
then driven two and a half hours home in a car as cold
as the December night, is part of the love for which
we hunger, one of all the sides of your desire:
its fibrous oils a longing, its buxom flesh a carnival.
- from New Poetries IV (Carcanet Press, 2007)
崇文门市场
它的一扇扇小门是冬装，为季节穿戴
就像饺子的面皮：揪下来的面团
擀成圆片，灵巧的手把猪肉
和大葱馅箍住，包进双耳捏紧的饺子。
前面，河鲑在湿淋淋的大理石上扭动，
像那弹出的弓，新鲜有如一个定义。
旁边翻来爬去的，是柳条筐里蓝色的螃蟹；
同时，生猛的是整水箱的鲶鱼
仅仅用刀子一扎，就能从水里弄出一条。
用慢如蜗牛的普通话，我吟咏着鸡蛋，猪肚，
和羊肉的价格，在新言辞的算盘上
琢磨着应该找多少钱，并想说出更多：
关于茄子颜色的一些事情，
不太容易辨认的果实，它们的滋味。
©王敖 'Chongwenmen Market' translated by Wang Ao.
腌三文鱼的一个侧面
橘黄与粉色的鱼片，从小真空袋里滑出，
肉的纹理，莳萝的气息，盐与糖的晶体，
一把飞快的刀子，锋芒不可以轻挥乱划。
而关于怎样食用的争论，像爱人的口角：
柠檬，不要柠檬，大块黑胡椒，辣椒面，
做三明治切片，还是方格碗里的刺身条。
在苏格兰被捕，又在斯堪的纳维亚被腌，
被防腐保藏，船运到牛津，握在我手里，
冬天的手，在冰冷如十二月之夜的车里
走了两个半小时，这条鱼，属于让我们
感到饥渴的爱，你所有欲望的一个侧面：
纤维渗的油是渴望，丰盛的肉体是狂欢。
©王敖 'A Side of Gravadlax' translated by Wang Ao.
This page features translations of some of my poems by Wang Ao 王敖 and Zuo Fei 昨非.
Chinese poet, Wang Ao, has kindly shared some of his translations of my poems into Mandarin Chinese. Wang Ao is an Assistant Professor of Asian Languages and Literatures at Wesleyan University. He received his B.A. from Peking University, M.A. from Washington University in St. Louis, and Ph.D. from Yale. His main academic interest is classical Chinese poetry.
He has also published five books of his own poetry and has been the recipient of prizes such as the Anne Kao Poetry Prize and the New Poet Prize from People's Literature. He has translated the work of poets such as Wallace Stevens, Hart Crane, W. H. Auden, and Seamus Heaney into Chinese.
王敖，现任美国维斯里安大学助理教授。毕业于北京大学，华盛顿大学（圣路易斯）和耶鲁大学。他的主要研究兴趣是古典诗歌，亦从事诗歌写作，出版过五本诗集，获得过安高诗歌奖和人民文学新人奖。另翻译有史蒂文斯，哈特克兰，奥登，希尼等人的作品。
Zuo Fei (昨非), a Beijing-based university English teacher, writer, and translator, runs a WeChat poetry blog introducing foreign poetry to Chinese readers. She serves as the Chinese-language editor-in-chief of Spittoon Literary Magazine, which showcases contemporary Chinese literature to English readers. She is also an editor of Ten Thousand Miles of Clouds and Moons, an anthology of new Chinese writing.
Her recent works include the short story “Notes in the Consulting Room” (Paper Republic), the critical essay “Metaphor, the Paradox in Our Times” (Shanghai Culture), and the poem “The Poet’s Lover,” first-place winner of the 2024 International Proverse Poetry Prize. She is the author of The Reed Cutter (Guangxi Normal University Press) and is completing a forthcoming study on poetry titled The Genealogy of Metaphysical Poetry.
昨非，大学英文老师，作家、译者，现居北京。诗歌公众平台“外国诗歌精选”主笔，旨在向中文读者引介外国诗歌。双语文学杂志Spittoon Literary Magazine中文主编，旨在向英文读者译介当代中国文学。编有最新汉语文学选集（英译）Ten Thousand Miles of Clouds and Moons。代表作有短篇小说《诊疗室手记》（发表于Paper Republic)；评论《隐喻，我们时代的悖论》（发表于《上海文化》）；诗作《诗人的情人》（获得Proverse Hong Kong 2024年国际诗歌比赛一等奖）。著有散文集《割芦苇的人》（广西师范大学出版社发行）。即将出版专著《玄学诗谱系》。
A Second Body
Tum pater Anchises “animae, quibus altera fato
corpora debenture, Lethaei ad fluminis undam
securos latices et longa oblivia potant.”
Then father Anchises said “They are spirits
destined to live a second life in the body.
They congregate here to drink from
the brimming Lethe and its water
heals their anxieties and destroys
all remnants of memory.”
~ Virgil, The Aeneid (Book VI)
I had not thought to return alive
as the world burnt to ember and cinder
the coldest winter in living memory.
On the palate, a bittersweet after-
taste of Lethe’s least potent shallows.
That flavour gone, a subtle mouthfeel
remains… like silken lees.
What system outage at Hades Inc.
allowed this exception to stroll almost
unnoticed through the gates of fate?
A second body, but the same. Young
again, if facing the mirror of middle age.
Memories of the first life, days lost
and that fateful pain in the chest.
Also, what should never have been
remembered. The ferryman’s face wrinkled
with anger as another undead but unbidden,
ignoble too, dared muddy his waters.
The banks of souls – my father nowhere
to be seen – and indelible even to Lethe’s
drops the frantic recoiling of those still weeping
at the feel of warm sand between their toes.
A second body still wet from the latest escape
out from the poet’s wilderness of stars and woods
and whatever glorious unseen fields those were.
How we laugh to feel it leaping, lithe, unclean.
- from Vital Signs (Cinnamon Press, 2024)
第二具躯体
于是安喀塞斯神父说：“这些幽灵
注定要在躯体中获得第二次生命。
他们聚集在这里，饮着
波光潋滟的忘川水，
忧郁得到了疗愈，残存的
记忆也被全部摧毁。”
——维吉尔《埃涅阿斯纪》（第六卷）
当记忆中最寒冷的冬日
被世界烧成一片灰烬，
我从没想到，还能活着归来。
我的舌尖上是冥河滩岸
残留的滋味，既苦又甜，
这之后，是微妙的口感
就如杯中……柔滑的渣滓。
冥府公司何等的系统故障
竟然让我这个例外者
穿过命运之门而不被发现？
第二具躯体，还是旧有的身躯。
面对中年的镜子，似乎年轻了些。
回忆第一次生命，回忆丧失的日子
以及胸中块垒，致命的疼痛。
还有，本该忘却的一切。
摆渡人的脸，因为愤怒
布满皱纹：又一个无耻的亡灵
不召自来，竟敢弄脏他的河水。
两岸的幽灵——唯独不见父亲的踪影——
即便是忘川之水，也难以将这抹去：
他们在放声哀哭，惊恐中踯躅不前，
而脚趾仍能感触到沙子的温暖。
第二具躯体，仍是湿漉漉的，
刚从诗人的荒野逃离，那里有
星辰，丛林，未曾见过的壮丽田野。
我们大笑着，感受它的跳跃，轻盈，不洁。
©昨非
2025年1月 译于北京