北塔，原名徐伟锋，诗人、学者、翻译家，生于苏州，现居北京，中国现代文学馆研究员，系世界诗人大会常务副秘书长兼中国办事处主任、河北师范大学等高校客座教授、中国外国文学研究会莎士比亚研究分会秘书长，出版有诗集《正在锈蚀的时针》、《滚石有苔》、《巨蟒紧抱街衢——北京诗选》等、学术专著《一个诗人的考辩——中国现当代文学论集》、《照亮自身的深渊——北塔诗学文选》和译著《八堂课》等约30种。曾受邀赴美国、荷兰和马其顿等20余国参加研讨、采风、朗诵和讲座等各类文学、学术活动，曾率中国诗歌代表团前往墨西哥、匈牙利等10余国访问交流并参加诗会。有作品被译成英文、德文等10余种外文。曾在国内外多次获奖。有“石头诗人”之称。
| 郑莹，太原师范学院教师，英国兰卡斯特大学创意写作硕士，中国人民大学外国语学院博士生。英语诗歌先后发表于美国《今日但丁》（Dante Today）网站和《意大利研究杂志》（Forum Italicum）学术期刊。近期，英语诗歌入围伦敦举办的但丁七百周年纪念活动（Dante 700th London）短名单，并将于九月在伦敦公开展览。此外，英译杨牧诗歌《孤独》收录于《中国诗选2020（汉英双语版）》。 |
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清溪湖的黄昏
我们所有的笑容都堆积起来
也抵挡不住天空的脸阴沉下来
我们吵，我们闹，我们唱，唱破嗓子
也打不破两岸无猿的沉默
初秋的众树死守住翠绿
只有一片叶子兀自变黄
狮子表演舞蹈累了，探下身子喝水
羊群被惊吓得忘了还有羊肠小道
鸳鸯尚未开始吻颈，只因天还不够黑
雏鸡般的月亮刚刚登场，只是个点缀
我们俩的船一再被波浪分开
还没抵达终点，就得悻悻返回
Qingxi Lake in Dusk
No smiles we pile up high
can stop a sullenly stooping sky.
We quarrel; we fight; we sing. But no voices that break off
can break the silence that befalls the shores of no monkeys.
Trees of early autumn cling to jade green,
but an unruly leaf turns yellow.
Lions, tired of their performances, lean forward to drink water;
sheep in flocks, frightened, fail to recall a path of sheep intestines.
Mandarin ducks haven’t yet started to kiss their necks, for it’s not dark enough,
for the chick-like moon appears on stage only as a decoration.
My boat stays separated from yours by breaking waves:
They have to return before they reach their destination. Regretfully.
醉在茅台
今夜，我是酒的仓库
借宿在山的最高处
让月光在我体内发酵
让我吐，吐出喜鹊和天狗
今夜，我是酒的堤岸
扎根在水的最深处
让清风抽我的耳光
让赤水河被酩酊的波浪捆绑
今夜，我将沉睡在灯火的舞姿里
梦见李白兄醉卧在我身旁
他的宝剑被扔在一边，闪闪发光
有好几次，我力图去捡，但始终捡不起来
今夜，你的歌声如洪水给我带来灭顶之灾
让子夜的雨抬起清醒的车
一步步滑向终点。我宁愿
人生的终点是一只小小的玻璃杯
Drunk on Mao-Tai Liquor
Tonight, I am a liquor warehouse
lodged at the pinnacle of a mountain.
Let moonlight ferment within my body,
and let me spit, spit out magpies and the Heavenly Dog.
Tonight, I am a liquor weir
firmly rooted at the depth of water.
Let brisk wind slap at my cheeks,
and let the Chishui River be bound by drunken waves.
Tonight, I will slumber in the dances of firelight
until my drunken brother Li Bai slouches by my side.
A sparkling sword, a sword he diced away,
several times, I have tried to pick up. But in vain.
Tonight, your singing will bring me a flood of catastrophe:
Let the midnight rain raise up a sober car
that is sliding into our destination. I would prefer
that life’s final stop is merely a small, small glass goblet.
晨 景
微风努力了一整夜
修篁不曾挪动一寸
芭蕉叶摊开偌大的手掌
却握不住一颗露珠
小草颤栗着，试图
扭断你我之间的石径
藤蔓向着你的窗户匍匐而去
比蜗牛还慢一千倍
Morning Scene
Breeze worked hard all night,
but failed to move bamboos an inch.
Banana leaves opened their big palms,
but failed to make a dewdrop stay.
Little grass is trembling, as if to twist
the stone trail off the space between us.
Vines are creeping down your windowpanes,
but are a thousand times slower than a snail.
策划：宛城卧龙
制作：花火 |
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