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那从水中渗出的人形
是水中的生活,干涸后的印记
犹如泪中有盐
他们有黑灰的底色
像是深入过土地
Face
Figure emerging from water
Is aquatic life, after dry season - impressions
Like salt in tears
Embrace black ash
As though having passed through earth.
那从墨中来的,丑中之美
是墨中的光辉。
人类共有伤感的天赋
是谁以泪为水,因而放大了悲悯
往日的面孔如今去向何方?
Emerging from ink, ugliness possessing beauty
Is ink's radiance.
Sentiment - mankind's inherent heritage
Who takes tears for water, magnifying
Pitiful faces of past days
And today, going where?
但必定经离此地
被看见,记忆,被藏匿
在某个时刻被显现
“这些面孔就是实情,只受过扭曲,
从来不曾得到原谅和拯救。”
But surely departed from this place
Seen, memory, hidden
At a certain moment revealed
"These faces are of reality, only twisted,
Never granted forgiveness or deliverance."
那些凝固的面目或许早已消失
因而描绘,是那么有力的挽留
这是面孔的永恒
是魂灵返身重来
带着墨色,带着暗沉的人世疤痕
Those crystallized faces, maybe long departed
Through portrayal, are kept
Their vitality, immortal
The soul reincarnated
Bearing ink and colour, bearing deep,
Dark scars of this world.
一切只因为经历了时光
过于长久,所以哑默。
我在凝视中听清这纸上的无声之语:
“如果你看见一张脸,
毫无疑问,那是一个人。”
All things are silently dumb
Exposed for too long to time.
In my fixed gaze I listen clearly -
Voiceless language echoed on paper:
"If you see a face,
Undoubtedly, it is a man."
他们
他们终究模糊,如烟火造就
天地之间,唯有时光
灼热而弥漫
他们干渴,饮过百年的雨水
他们终究枯竭,来到纸上。
They
They are after all vague, as though created from fire and smoke
Heaven and earth, only time
Scorching and everywhere
They are thirsty, though having drunk rainwater
for a hundred years
They finally come, parching, to paper.
有时候卑微的景象令人俯身:
与神共在的事物
也理当与尘埃共在。
这是最神秘的事物:
他们在这里,他们是这样。
Sometimes mean sights cause us to bow:
Those things with god
Are also of the dust.
These are most mysterious:
They are here, they are as is.
只有颤栗细致入微
像月光涂过夜色,百感交集。
我见过他们的匆匆行迹
而不可见的,是被遮掩的心境
那些幽暗的神情令人难忘
Only small shivers are as delicate
As moonlight passing through the night sky,
A thousand feelings welling up in the heart
I see their hurried traces
But what I cannot see is their hidden mood
Those dim expressions are unforgettable.
曾经有过最为细小的命运
他们有如行走的炊烟
用于到来、经历与消逝
我见过并记得他们,面目各异
悲喜不辨,仿佛同一个人的前生后世
Once there were the most trivial destinies
They are as drifting smoke from a kitchen chimney
They come and are gone
I have seen and remember them, different faces
No distinguishing between joy and sorrow
Like one person's past and future life.
触目惊心:那同时是我活着的标本
他们的眼神是我死后的回望。
此刻我看见从笔尖站起的高大心神
一个低沉的声音在说:
这才是不朽的,这是深广的人性。
Startling: yet is a sample of my own life
Their eye-expressions are my gaze, returned, posthumously
In this moment I see, rising grandly from your brush,
The Heart Spirit
A low voice utters:
This is immortal, deep, broad human nature.
众人
苍天慈祥
苍生静默
人间落到笔下,你放大尺幅
那些艰难、呆滞,再堆积一层
就将耗尽笔墨
Folks
The vast sky is kind
All life observes silence
Beneath the brush is the world, you magnify
The hardships, stagnation,
Another layer would deplete your brush and ink.
这就是沉重:
众人之人,众人之众
褪色一半的黑梦露出白眼
你将他,他们,一个个画出
你的掘梦之锄深深埋入
This is heaviness:
Man among the multitudes,
Multitude among the multitudes
Half-faded black dream reveals white eyes
He, they, one by one, you portray
Your hoe, digging for dreams, is deeply buried.
深深埋入黑白之间的宿命
那纷杂的人影
凝结为书册之中的无名氏
过去是风吹着他们
现在是你的安慰,我的叹息
Deeply buried between white and black vicissitudes
Those chaotic human presences
Congeal into unsung names among pages
In the past wind blew against them
Now, my comfort, your sighs
这就是阅读:
我看见人海闪着灰光
众人,万人,你一人就感同身受。
盛世的旧痕
原样映在加以擦拭的心镜中
This is reading:
I see the multitudes in glittering sliver lights
Folks, ten thousand, you alone understand
Old traces of a flourishing past
My heart's mirror wiped clean reflects their originality.
以情感交融的技艺盛情相邀
众——于是都在这里
重回人的模样,共享不走的日夜
这是令人心碎的复活节
你温厚湿润,我黯然神伤。
With an artistry of mixed feelings I warmly invite
Folks - they are all here
Returning human appearances,
Sharing endless days and nights
This is heartbreaking revival
You are vitally hospitable,
I am in low spirits.
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