​​On The Riverside

By Chen Zihong

At the moment with flowering peach and plum flowers,
preference for small lanterns shrinks.
Mass of people, living in a rut,
opening a can, cooking noodles and counting the bills.
Machines booming out, old bucket just into well,
as simple as great generosity to flout the villain.
The ancients said:" Now, spring is more than a mellow wine."

The city, white hibiscus embellished by pleasant country scene,
a kind of radish named aged-spring-never.
Long willow branches --- why bother with human troubles,
A frail-looking scholar, what is my life of previous incarnations?
Is it the whole cells or just a central point?
The days of restlessness abound, and many of poems
cannot but become kettles that barks.

It is the very common illusion,
everybody uses the word scenery;
lies in public, criticizes at will, and then echoes.
Admire and detest on the tongue are not love and hate.
Bridge-telephone lines that connect a pair of conflicting.
The setting sun cannot be seen in clamminess,
Day and night are in silent change.

It's frequent overcast days and the rains that make a poet.
Geological time is down on everyone, despising
our lips, as well as stones pressing a flower.
The Axe Alley just long, winding and sharp,
can chop firewood even cut off slim waist.
What right to say you'd better to miss each other?
Cause for busyness or a bit petty?

1992/tr. by the author

本诗英文译文及所附中文原诗已获作者授权，未经作者（作者同时亦是译者）许可，谢绝任何转载及用于任何商业用途。

在河边

现在是桃红李白的时候，
小灯笼的趣味开始渐渐萎谢。
人们，正千篇一律地生活，
开一听罐头，煮面，再清点花钞票。
机器轰轰隆隆，旧水桶放到了井中，
蔑视坏人就象慷慨一样简单。
古人说：“此刻，春色比酒还浓。”

青山绿水点缀着城里的白芙蓉，
一种萝卜被取名春不老。
长长的柳丝又何苦去理会人的烦乱，
一个文弱书生，我的前世又是什么，
是全部细胞还是个中心点？
坐不住的日子比比皆是，那许多诗
没法不变成会号叫的水壶。

此乃一种普遍的错觉，
人人都在用“风景”这个词，
当众扯谎，随便地批评又附合，
舌头上的爱憎不成其为爱和恨。
桥，接通一对矛盾的电话线。
阴湿的天气下看不见夕阳，
白天同黑夜正悄悄更迭。

是频繁的阴天，是雨造就一个诗人。
地质学的时间摁倒众生，藐视着
我们的嘴，犹如顽石压迫一朵花。
斧头巷*狭长、曲折而锐利，
可以劈柴火更可以斩断苗条的蜂腰。
有什么权力说相见不如怀念，
因为忙还是小心眼？

                              1992年2月

*斧头巷：成都一条小巷名，现已不存，原址在现在的成都锦兴路遂宁宾馆路口。