Hu Xudong

chinesisch

蝗虫

这是一段绝望的行走。
烈日中似有一只
化名为上帝的巨大的秋老虎
在我的头顶不住地咆哮,
更多的秋老虎,藏身于
我身边数不清的汽车马达中,
也纷纷用它们暴躁的石油之喉,
发出了震天的啸声,像是在
齐声呵斥我这个公路上唯一一个
体内没有石油的物体。
这竟让我产生了一种
犯罪的快感:没错,背着
硕大的双肩包,步履坚定地
行走在小镇郊外的旷野上
两个不通公交车的商场之间,
我看上去绝对不像一个
为远方的妻子四处挑选内衣的
购物者,我更像是一个可疑的
有色人种,背包里兴许是
毒奶粉、炸弹或者共产主义。
突然间,在马路边的荒草中
我的脚步唤起了另外一些
体内没有石油的物体:
那是一群蝗虫,灰头土脑地
在这个庞大的国度
过着它们渺小的直翅目生活。
它们是最棒的乡村乐手,
翅膀和后腿稍事摩擦,
就足以令我从北美大草原
回到四川盆地的稻田。
加油,蝗虫们!在我汗水滴落之前
快用你们的小声音
把所有的秋老虎统统催眠。

© Hu Xudong
Audioproduktion: DJS Art Foundation

Grasshoppers

Walking. Walking alone in despair.
The massive autumn tiger is roaring above me,
a God in pseudonym.
Countless autumn tigers
hide in the numerous motor vehicles on the road,
howling from their gas throats
as if in chorus, scolding me, the only creature without gas
on the road.
I feel guilty, a happy sensation, a thrill of crime.
Yes, I’m walking on the highway
with a weighted backpack on my shoulders and firm steps
in the wilderness outside this little town.
No bus routes run between the two shopping centers
and I definitely don’t look like a shopper
picking underwear for my distant wife.
I'm a suspicious guy with sun burns,
and poison milk powder, bombs, or communism
in my backpack.

My footsteps awaken some other creatures
on the roadside, who have no gas in their bodies either
just like me; grasshoppers. They live a small life
in this huge country.
They are fantastic country musicians.
Their little wings and back legs make friction
that takes me back to the rice fields of the Sichuan Basin
from this gigantic North American prairie.
Come on grasshoppers, sing your little songs
before I die from sweating too much.
Put all the autumn tigers
to sleep and let me walk my way alone.

© Translated by Ming Di and Coby Reese