临江阁听琴
有人在鼓琴，干瘦的十指试图
理清一段流水。窗外，
涛声也响着——何种混合正在制造
与音乐完全不同之物？
——你得相信，声音也有听觉，它们
参与对方，又相互听取，
让我想起，我也是从一个很远的地方
来到这里，像一支曲子
离开乐器独自远行，到最后才明白，
所谓经历，不是地域，而是时间之神秘。
现在，稍稍凝神，就能听到琴声中那些
从我们内心取走的东西。
乐声中，江水的旧躯体仍容易激动，仍有
数不清的旋涡寄存其中，用以
取悦的旋转轻盈如初，而那怀抱里，
秘密、复杂的爱，随乐声翻滚，
又看不见，想抱紧它们，
一直以来都艰难万分。
Someone is playing lute music, her thin fingers try to play a smooth melody
Out of the window.
The waves are also making sounds -- what kind of mix is producing
something completely different from music?
-----You should believe that sounds also have hearing.
They participate in each other, and listen to each other,
It reminds me that I come here from a very far place
just like a tune that leaves the instrument and travel alone,
At last I understand
that so-called experience is not related to the region , but the mystery of time.
Now, with a little concentration, I can hear those in the music
that have been taken from our hearts
In the music, the old body of the river is still easily excitable,
there still have innumerable vortices storing in it
The rotating to please people is as light as ever,
In its arms, the secret, complicated love rolls with the music
and cannot be seen,
All the time
It is terribly hard to catch hold of them tight
涟漪散开，像无数线头。但水
却懒得再捡起它们。
桥是仿古的，但这
跨在历史身上的巨无霸对过往
已一无所知。
游船从桥下驶过，新鲜油漆味像难抑的兴奋。
但水知道，它只能独自穿过解说词，穿过一段段
既无出发、亦无归来的声音。
一个空怀抱不再赠予它远方，不会
再把它推送向帝国的心脏。
当它停下，靠着码头，与这条河
相伴的感觉像是假的。某种隐秘的沉默
控制了长堤、夕阳、水底燃烧的磷。
——意气难平，到最后，一颗英雄心
接受了柳丝和倒影的抚慰。
安顿了所有遥远跋涉的水平面
触手可及，又像
历尽艰辛才得以抵达的边陲。
The ripples spread out like countless threads.
But water is too lazy to pick them up.
The bridge is archaistic
and this big Mac locating in the body of history
does not know anything about the past.
The pleasure-boat passes under the bridge and the smell of fresh paint is like an unquenchable thrill.
But the water knows that it can only go through the commentary alone,
through segments of sounds that have neither departure nor return
An empty embrace no longer gives it a far distance ,
nor pushes it to the heart of the Empire.
When it comes to rest, leaning alongside the wharf,
The sense of companionship with the river is artificial.
One secret silence controls the levees, the sunsets, the burning phosphorus under the water.
-- Its spirit is difficult to equalize, in the end,
a heroic heart accepts the propitiation of weeping willows and reflection.
The horizontal plane settles all the distant trek
and it is a within reach,just like a frontier
takes a long time to arrive
从完整的事物，它开始，
让一颗没有准备的心，
突然有了此岸与彼岸。
于是，有人学习造桥，
有人学习造船……
一个奇怪的幽灵在掌控这一切：
并为远航
培养出了出色的水手。直到
它彻底裂开，
互不相干的两半被一段
空白隔开。
看上去，各自完整；
看上去，裂隙仿佛已不在现场。
Starting from a whole thing
It makes the unprepared heart,
suddenly have this side and the other side.
So some people learn how to build bridges,
Some people learn how to make boats...
A strange apparition controls all this
and trains excellent sailors
<>n>for the long voyage. UntilIt's completely cracked ,The irrelevant two halves are separatedby a blank space.It seems that each one is completeIt seems as if the fissure is no longer there.
琥珀里的昆虫
它懂得了观察，以及之后的岁月。
当初的慌乱、恐惧，一种慢慢凝固的东西吸走了它们，
甚至吸走了它的死，使它看上去栩栩如生。
“你几乎是活的，”它对自己说，“除了
不能动，不能一点点老去，一切都和从前一样。”
它奇怪自己仍有新的想法，并谨慎地
把这些想法放在心底以免被吸走因为
它身体周围那绝对的平静不能
存放任何想法。
光把它的影子投到外面的世界如同投放某种欲望。
它的复眼知道无数欲望比如
总有一把梯子被放到它不能动的脚爪下。
那梯子明亮，几乎不可见，缓缓移动并把这
漫长的静止理解为一个瞬间。
It has learned to observe, and it understands the following years .
The initial panic and fear , a slowly solidifying thing had sucked them away ,
and even sucked away its death, so it looks like it is alive.
'You are almost alive,' it says to itself,
'except can't move, won't get aging , everything is the same as before.'
It wonders that it still has new ideas,
and cautiously puts these thoughts in the bottom of its heart
so as not to be taken away
Because the absolute calmness around its body could not
store any ideas.
Its shadow is cast to the outer world by a light as if a desire is cast
Its compound eyes know innumerable desires such as
a ladder is always put under its immovable claws .
The bright ladder is barely visible ,it moves slowly
and thinks that the long stillness is just an instant.
绳上有个结。绳子
就是在那里找到自己的。
一个死结。任你怎么用力也无法
把它从里面拉出来。
通常，绳子活在一根平滑的线上。
但它内心起了变化，一个结
突然变成身体陌生的部分，被缚住，
并于绷紧中一再被确认。
如同连自身
也不肯放过的仇恨，这用力
拉拽过的结已很难凭回忆解开。
——它认出了思虑无法捕捉的东西，
束紧它，不松开。
There is a knot in the rope.
That's where the rope finds itself .
A fast knot. No matter how hard you try
You cannot pull it out of that.
Usually, the rope lives in a smooth line.
But some changes have taken place in its heart,
A knot suddenly becomes a strange part of its body, bound
and It is confirmed again and again in that stiffening
It's like the hatred that the rope itself won't let go
This knot twisted by force is hard to untie with memory.
-- It recognizes what the thinking could not catch,
and tightens that,and don't loosen that.
——那是关于黑暗的
另一个版本：一种有无限耐心的恶，
在音乐里经营它的集中营：
当流水温柔的舔舐
如同戴手套的刽子手有教养的抚摸，
看住自己是如此困难。
你在不断失去，先是坚硬棱角，
接着是光洁、日渐顺从的躯体。
如同品味快感，如同
在对毁灭不紧不慢的玩味中已建立起
某种乐趣，滑过你
体表的喧响，一直在留意
你心底更深、更隐秘的东西。
直到你变得很小，被铺在公园的小径上，
经过的脚，像踩着密集的眼珠……
但没有谁深究你看见过什么。岁月
只静观，不说恐惧，也从不说出
万物需要视力的原因。
----It's another version about darkness：
an evil with infinite patience
is running its concentration camp in music:
when the water licks gently
like a gentle touch by a gloved executioner,
It's so hard to guard itself.
You keep losing, first the hard edges ,
then the smooth and increasingly submissive body.
Like tasting pleasure, like an interest
built up in the unhurried contemplation
slipping past you
The noise on your body surface, always pays attention to
something deeper and more private inside your heart.
till you become very small and are paved on the garden path,
The passing feet, like stepping on dense eyes...
But no one looks into what you have seen.
The years only watches quietly, not tells fear, and never speaks
why all things need sight.
树下来过恋人，坐过
陷入回忆的老者。
没人的时候，树冠孤悬，
树干，像遗忘在某个事件中的柱子。
有次做梦，我梦见它的根，
像一群苦修者——他们
在黑暗中待得太久了，
对我梦中的光亮感兴趣。
——不可能每棵树都是圣贤，我知道
有些树会死于狂笑，另一些
会死于内心的自责声。所以，
有的树选择秘密地活着，把自己
同另外的事物锁在一起；
有的，则在自己的落叶中行走，学会了
如何处理多余的激情。
Under the tree,there were lovers
There were also some aged people siting there, lost in memory
When everyone is gone, the treetop hangs alone,
The trunk, like a pillar forgotten in one event.
Once in a dream, I saw its roots,
like a bunch of ascetics -- they
had been staying in the dark for too long,
and were interested in the light in my dream.
------It is impossible that every tree is a saint,
I know, some trees will die of wild laughter,
Others will die for the voice of inner blame.
So,some trees choose to live secretly and lock themselves
together with something else;
Some have learned how to walk among their own fallen leaves
and to deal with their excess passion
我不替谁代言。
我这样旋转只是想表明
我无须制造漩涡也是中心。
在我这里没有拖后出现的人也不存在
比原计划提前发生的事。
一切都在我指定的某个时刻上。
我在此亦在彼，在青铜中亦在
镜像中。当初，
是我从矿石中提炼出铁砂，
是我让大海蔚蓝山脉高耸，
是我折磨月亮让它一次次悔过自新因为
这也是真理产生的方式。
所有的上帝和神都从我这里出发
又回到我这里。
我建立过无数已毁灭的国家今后仍当如是。
除了我的滴答声并不存在别的宗教。
我的上一个念头是北欧的雪崩下一个
会换成中国屋檐上的鸽子。
我让爆炸声等同于咳声，
我让争吵的政客和哭泣的恋人有同一个结局。
我是完美的。不同的语言述说
同样的鸟城市天空这是我的安排。
我创造世界并大于这世界。
我不哭不笑不解释不叹息因为
这永远不是问题的核心。
当我停步我仍能把你们抓牢犹如
国王在宫殿里打盹远方
军队在消灭它能找到的东西。
I don't speak for anyone.
I rotate in this way just to show that
I am the center even I don't need to make a vortex
No people will be left behind me
and nothing will happen earlier than the plan
Everything happens at the time I've specified.
I am here and there, in bronze
and in mirror images.
At the beginning,
It was me who extracted the crude iron from the ore,
It was me who made the sea blue and the mountains high,
It is me who torments the moon and makes it repent again and again
because that's a way the truth is produced
All gods and deities start from me
and come back to me.
I have built many nations that have been destroyed and I will continue to do so
There is no other religion except my ticking sounds
My last thought was that an avalanche in northern Europe
will be replaced by pigeons on eaves of China.
I make an explosion equal to a cough,
I make the bickering politician and the weeping lover have the same ending.
I'm perfect.
Different languages and words ,same birds and city skies are my arrangement.
I created the world and I am greater than the world.
I don't cry , laugh, explain and sigh
because that's never the core of the matter.
When I stop I can still hold you tightly
Just like the king is dozing in his palace
in the distance his army is destroying what it can find
性急者以秒针赶路，
悲愤者用心脏叩门。
而有人通晓了辩证法，借助
时针的黑，在暗中移动。
风雨欲来，
总有人在圆心里费力地打滑，
闪着细瘦发亮的长腿。
世界之变，起于四壁，起于大大
小小的漩涡。
金属盘、珐琅壳，筋疲力尽的
发条和电池……
到处都是终点和起点。
刻度内，火焰捧出模糊的脸，
齿轮上，残缺的夙愿布满咬痕，
而有人毕生与钟表为敌，
想把自己从时光中剥离出来。
他正站在停摆的壁钟前，一动不动，
佯装对流逝一无所知
The impatient person travels with the second hand,
The indignant person knocks at the door with his heart.
People who know dialectics use the blackness of the hour hand
to move in the dark.
When the wind and rain are coming,
There is always someone struggling not to slip in the center of the circle
with its long, thin legs shining
The change of the world starts from the four sides and starts from all the large
or little whirlpools
Metal plate, enamel shell, and exhausted
clockwork and battery...
It can be an end or a beginning in anywhere.
Inside the scale, the flame holds a blurred face,
On the cogs, the broken longing is full of bite marks
The person having been lifelong enemy of clocks and watches,
tries to separate himself from time.
He is standing in front of the stopped clock, motionlessly,
pretending not to know anything about the passing
穹顶上垂下一根细丝，底端
吊着一颗肥硕蜘蛛。
细丝几乎看不见，而一颗蜘蛛
出现在那里，正从空间中
采集不为人知之物，并以之
制造出一个便便巨腹。
光影迷离，蜘蛛的长腿抟着空气。一根丝
纤细、透明，绷直于
自身那隐形的力量中，以之维系
一个小世界里正在形成的中心。
A thin line hangs down from the dome,
Its end slings a stout spider .
The line is barely visible, and a spider
appears there,
It is gathering some unknown things in the space
By those things it creates a huge paunch
The light is blurred and the spider's long legs knead the air.
A piece of thread is slender, transparent,
It straightens up in its own invisible power
and by this it keeps the forming center in the small world.
它受命成为一条路，受命成为可以踏上去的现实。
它拉紧脊椎扣好肋骨因为人多，车重。
当大家都散了，它留在原地。
在最黑的夜里，它不敲任何人的门。
它是睡眠以外的部分，它是穿越喧嚣的孤寂，
比阶级直，比尘埃低，身上
印满谵妄的脚印。
当它受命去思考，蟋蟀开始歌唱。
它废弃时，万物才真正朝两侧分开，
一半不知所踪；另一半
伴随它的沉默并靠向
时间的尽头。
It is commanded to be a road
and designated to be a reality that could be stepped on.
It tightens its spine and ties its ribs because of the crowd and the heavy vehicles.
When everyone is gone, it stays where it is.
In the darkest night, it knocks on no one's door.
It's the part outside of sleeping,
and the loneliness of going through a noise
straighter than classes, lower than dust,
Its body has marked lots of delirious footprints .
When it is told to think, crickets begin to sing.
When it's abandoned,all things really just start to go the left and right sides
Half of them disappear;
The other half closes to the end of time.
with its silence
当我们在窗前交谈，我们相信，
有些事，只能在我们的交谈外发生。
我们相信，在我们目力不及的地方，
走动着陌生人。他们因为
过着一种我们无法望见的生活而摆脱了
窗口的限制。
当他们回望，我们是一群相框中的人，
而那空空、无人的窗口，
正是耗尽了眺望的窗口。
我们看到，城市的远端，
苍穹和群山拱起的脊背
像一个个问号：过于巨大的答案，
一直无法落进我们的生活中。
当我们在长长的旅行后归来，
嵌入窗口的风景，
再也无法从玻璃中取出。
When we talk by the window, we believe
that some things can only happen outside of our conversation.
We believe that in some places we can't see
there are strangers walking around
Because they live a life we can't watch
so it gets out of window’s limit.
When they look back, we will become a group of people in frames,
And the empty window, with no people there
is the window that exhausts gazing
We can see, on the far side of the city,
the arched back of the sky and the mountains
is like question marks，and the answer is too huge
to fall into our life. .
When we return from our long journey,
landscapes embedded in the window
can never be removed from the glass frames
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