本帖最后由 江飞泉 于 2016-11-17 16:15 编辑
南宁到三水途中
Nanning to Sanshui on the way
江飞泉
jiangfeiquan
初秋,途经异地站台
有薄薄的阳光划过
太阳照耀的一半,鸽子在打盹
阴影里那一半,苔藓顽强向上
Early autumn, via the remote station
There is a thin sun across
Half of the sun shining, dove in the nap
In the shadow of the half, the moss stubborn upward
被废弃建筑阻挡的阳光,如同
被腐朽遮盖的灵魂。秋天的六号车站
递过来罂粟,大麻与秋水仙碱
一趟列车从左侧呼啸而过
我想起逝去的那些秋天,那些亲爱的人
时间成了记忆的遗书
窗外的巨幕影像开始闪烁
The sun blocked by abandoned buildings, like
The soul covered with decay. No. six station in fall
Passes the poppy, marijuana and colchicine
A train roaring from the left
I think of those died autumns, those who love me
Time becomes the posthumous paper of memory
The giant screen image outside the window began to blink
我经过一树树黄花的雕塑
生命岛屿从平稳的时间驶过
让我想到,我那些普通朋友,平常得
像饮褪色的茶。终于在风里降落的草垛
金色的麦穗与麦穗旁的燃烟。一匹小马
枣红色的脊背染上水墨与胭脂。当它回眸
我将它想象成一幅静默的画像
山坳、湖泊、田埂,故交的熟悉感
我从没遗失的尾巴。当我长大成人
祖先的模样消逝在后脑勺
I passed the sculpture of a yellow tree
The islands of life pass by in a steady time
Let me think, my ordinary friends, usually
Like drinking tea. Finally in the wind down the hay
Golden wheat ears and the burning smoke near them. A pony
Jujube red back dyed by ink and rouge. When it is in
I think of it as a silent portrait
Mountain, lake, ridge, and the sense of familiarity
I never lost my tail. When I grow up
The appearance of the ancestor died in the back of head
旅途者的秋天:我会想到姹紫嫣红
或花团锦簇,这样的高贵词语
适合秋天的新娘头上的红盖头
荷叶,青苗与村庄,村庄旁的梧桐
我还未泯灭的思维,被洪流
冲击的河床,枯竭的沟壑与
陌生者的集合:坟茔,溪流与
被遗弃的村庄,静静从脚边与我分离
The journey of autumn: I think of brilliant purples and reds
or rich multicolored decorations. These noble words
The bride head for the fall of the Red Veil
The lotus leaf, and the young village, village near the Indus
I have not been devoid of thinking, torrent
The impact of the river bed, depletion of the gully and
Set the stranger: Tomb, streams and
The abandoned village, quietly separated from my feet
当天空交出黑暗前的蓝
最后的光亮在隧道前戛然而止
想象的黑暗里,秋天的胡须渐渐发黄
在三水车站,跟一些人下车
车站外,粉红色花在暮色里
并不艳丽多姿,朵朵昂着头
有人告知:这些花是祭奠用的
我倒吸一口冷气,钻入暮色里
When the sky over the dark blue
The last light in the tunnel before the end
In the imaginal-darkness, the beard of autumn is gradually yellow
In Sanshui station, with some people get off
Outside the station, pink flowers in the twilight
Is not gorgeous, the head is blossoming
Someone told: these flowers are for use of sacrifice
I suck a breath of air, and drill into the dusk
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