Nick Admussen 
Translator

on Lyrikline: 10 poems translated

from: kitajščina to: angleščina

Original

Translation

小动物的眼睛

kitajščina | YA Shi

老实说  对于山谷中的小动物
我心怀愧疚  无法直面它们的眼睛
那里面有紫色的雾(沙沙流曳着)
有善意的、并将在胆怯中永恒存在的
探询。当暮色伴我回到石屋
它们就出现  于众多暗处
创造我  且期待比那皱褶、潮湿的
树皮  人能给出更为坚定的音讯。
我知道  即使躲进随手翻开的书里
它们也会在语词的空白处探出头来
望着我 低语将要蒙受的羞辱、泥尘。
是的  到了牙齿一颗颗疏松、脱落的晚年
我还会记起这一切  坚持着
并用灵魂应答那再度敛聚的童真

© Ya Shi

Eyes of Small Animals

angleščina

Honestly    with regards to the creatures of the valley
I feel ashamed        can't look them in the eye
inside which is violet fog  (pulled along, rustling)
and kindness, placed into the eternal interrogation that is
cowardice.  When the twilight follows me back to the stone house
they emerge          from their many secret places
create me    and wait for this wrinkled, moist,
tree-barked         man to be supplanted by a steadier messenger.
Even if I hide myself in books, which open to me conveniently
I know     they'll still peek out from the white spaces in words
watch me    and mutter about the humiliations they'll suffer, the dirt.        
Yeah          when my teeth loosen and drop out one by one from age
I will still remember all of this         steadfastly
and with my soul I'll answer the endless accumulation of innocence        
those leaves       just like the skin of babies, blue-green, translucent

© translated from Chinese to English by Nick Admussen

野苹果树林

kitajščina | YA Shi

石屋背后的山坡上  有一片
野苹果树林。大概占了半亩地左右吧
去年  我用山溪里搬来的圆石
垒堆石屋时  还不觉什么异样。
今年春天  一个蓝雾散尽的清晨
山谷才指点给我这美妙的景观:
密密匝匝的白花如浴女羞怯的凝脂
正在屋后摄魂地晃闪……“怎么这样粗心呢
即使作了秘密之美的邻居也不知晓?”
我想:不能随便去探访这片果林
要等到初夏  一个大风骤起的黄昏
当成熟的果子噼噼啪啪坠落屋顶
我会饮着溪水  品尝那赐予我的
直到一种甜涩的滋味溶在骨髓里面……

© Ya Shi

Stand of Wild Apple

angleščina

Behind the stone house on the hillside     there is a patch
of wild apple trees.  Probably a quarter acre, more or less
last year    when I used round stones from the creek
to stack into a stone house       I didn't think anything was strange
but this spring        on a dawn that scattered the blue mist
the valley showed me this marvelous landscape:
dense thickets of white flowers like the porcelain of a shy woman bathing
shining soul-stealingly right behind the house... plain thoughtless —
even if the beauty is secret, how could its neighbor not know?
I think: this grove cannot be visited whenever one wishes
have to wait for early summer    a sunset when the wind kicks up suddenly
when ripe fruit patters down onto the roof
I'll drink creek water         taste what I've been given
until the tart sweetness enters the marrow of my bones...

© translated from Chinese to English by Nick Admussen

黎 明

kitajščina | YA Shi

勿需借助孤寂里自我更多的
沉思  勿需在镜中察看衰老的脸
其实那镜子也和山谷的黎明
一样朦胧。今天的黎明就是
所有的黎明。露水、草霜、清净山石
偶尔会泄露矿脉乌黑的心跳。
“你未来之前  它就这样做了。”
现在  你是一粒微尘溶在黎明里
筑一间石屋  只是为了更为完满地
体验肉体的消亡  体验从那以后
灵魂变成一个四面敞开的空间:
昆虫、树木在这里聚会、低语
商议迎接沐风而至的新来者
就像镜子迎接那张光茫四射的脸。

© Ya Shi

Dawn

angleščina

No need to depend on the isolate self undergoing more
contemplation           no need to watch the aging face in the mirror
really, the mirror is just as fogged and obscure
as dawn in the valley.  Today's dawn is
all dawns.  Dew, frost on plants, peaceful hill stones
sometimes leaking a dark heartbeat of ore.
Before you came    it happened like this.
Now      you are a mote of dust dissolved in the light of daybreak
building a stone house    just to more fully
experience the withering of the flesh          experience the aftermath
when the spirit is transformed into a space open on all sides:
the insects, the trees gather here and murmur
discuss welcoming the new arrivals who come bathed in wind
like the mirror welcomes that glittering and radiant face.

© translated from Chinese to English by Nick Admussen

雷 雨

kitajščina | YA Shi

被一根充满静电的手指缓缓地
抚摸  没有不安。这是先兆:
山谷中的雷雨来得总是那么自然!
微风催促微褐、温存的指头
沙沙地  将万物包裹的细小灵魂
从里到外摸了个遍:黄叶肥大
浆果正把油亮的脂液滴落如绒的苔藓……
接着  雷雨会在渐渐空阔的身体里
升起、释放  引发出山谷巨大嗡鸣的震颤
也许  这里的雷雨与别处没什么不同
我能肯定的是  幽暗与明亮交错的山谷里
雷雨会使飞鸟的骨骼变得硬朗
而仿佛突然间冒出的花花草草
在喊:“嗨 让我流水般活上一千年!”

© Ya Shi

Thunderstorm

angleščina

Caressed by a finger brimming with static electricity
slowly             and without any upset.  This is an omen:
thunderstorms always come to the valley so naturally!
Soft wind pushes a soft brown, gentle fingertip
with a rustle         a little soul that binds up all the living things
touches them everywhere, inside to out: plump yellow leaves
fruit is dripping its glossy fats onto the velveteen moss...
after that    inside its gradually opening body the thunderstorm
rises, is set free    causes a great drone of tremor in the valley
perhaps    storms here are no different from those of other places
what I'm sure of is           in the valley where shadow and brightness twine
the thunderstorm can make firm the bones of birds
and it seems as if flowers and plants burst forth in an instant
yelling ah     let me live a thousand years like running water!

© translated from Chinese to English by Nick Admussen

白樱桃诗

kitajščina | YA Shi

嗯,好几天了,嘤鸣着的,是这个:
“白樱桃树下,把你乌黑的头发细细梳了!”

几天来,耳畔老响起这话,尤其仰望流云时。
起先,它出现在梦里,几天前。

你不解其含义……也记不起
糊涂的梦中,这话,究竟是谁对谁说的。

生活如此平凡,困境,时时让人抓狂!
但为何会出现这话?忘不了,仿佛一道命令?

瞧,樱桃甜蜜,此时腊月,未到它的花期。
你知道:空姐天上飞,是不能梳刘海的……

谁知道:这话里,有让人心碎的急促!
耳畔响起这话,竟口干舌燥,急得冒烟似的?

© Ya Shi

White Cherry Poem

angleščina

Ah, it’s been days, the bird trill, like this:
comb your raven hair fine under the white cherry tree —

These days it’s been ringing in the ear, mostly while looking up at the flowing clouds.
At first it came in dreams, some days ago.

You don’t understand what it means …... and you can’t remember
just who addressed who in the blur of dream.

In this way life is ordinary, troublesome, sometimes sharp and deranging —
but why do the words appear?  Unforgettable, like a command?

Look, the cherries are sweet, it is December, not yet the bloom time.
You know: when stewardesses fly, they can’t let their bangs fall loose......

Who knew: in these words, a heart-breaking urgency!
The ear rings with them, mouth dry from speaking, so vehement it almost smokes?

© translated from Chinese to English by Nick Admussen

悲伤诗

kitajščina | YA Shi

今日,五月的一日,猝响。
湖畔,绿薄荷邀我坐下,练习遗忘。
 
金丝猴就职的公立大学里,
到处是锁链的声音,字母的声音。
 
绿薄荷是否真存在?要存疑。
谁创造了大功绩,当湖面有团雾气?
 
好大学教数学,画古怪小锥体
和混沌对抗。我的冷气机,一直
 
在人工湖胸腔里哐啷啷破响呢……
剥开绿薄荷,脉管里涌晶亮的懵懂,
 
而我有漫长的人类史要修饰——
真相不在,各处举偶然丰腴的手臂;
 
一个事实,植物的羞愧白热,
如果真正止住了悲伤,那才是奇迹。

© Ya Shi

Sorrow Poem

angleščina

Today, on a day in May, a shattering noise.
At the lakeside, the green mint invites me to sit and practice forgetting.

The golden snub-nosed monkey took a position at the public university,
everywhere the noise of chains, the noise of alphabet letters.

Is the wild mint really out there?  Leave the question open.
Who can make great contributions, when the lake surface is covered in mist?

When good schools teach math, they make a diagram of an opposition
between an odd cone and primal chaos.  From the start, my air conditioner,

in the chest cavity of the man-made lake, has been choking and clattering......
Peel back the mint leaf, the ignorance the vessels inside bubble up,

and I have an endless human history to adorn —
the truth is absent, random plump arms raise at every turn;

a fact, a plant’s incandescent shame,
if it can really stop the sorrow, well, that’ll be a miracle.

© translated from Chinese to English by Nick Admussen

陶片诗

kitajščina | YA Shi

清风,适合吹开露水的淡绿蕾丝,
你的狂妄、高烧,适合登高与出名——
 
固执地,子夜,向这城市的文化名片
行拜谒仪式。夜晚挺腰身,
 
时有商业鱼鳞,时有南瓜花微卷的孤愤:
长者不刻意谦虚,花冢拒绝举白旗。
 
虾子!真正在意的是江湖地盘,
游不游皆可。激情,依然是义和拳的激情!
 
窄巷子哪挡得住你奔儿头油亮的破浪,
内涌大江,玩宇宙于股掌,折服自己如神。
 
幽灵其实过时啦,韭菜黄点燃瞳仁……
评点自然贫乏了点,放卫星,不放拳拳之心。
 
所以吹破死牛皮,你还是个人物:
露水寻找灼热铁皮屋顶,你会安心瘦身?

© Ya Shi

Pottery Shard Poem

angleščina

The cool wind, it’s good for puffing along the pale green lace of dew,
your arrogance and fever are good for reaching heights and getting famous —

Stubbornly, midnight, you come to the city’s cultural sites
to make a ceremonial visit.  The night stretches at the waist,

Sometimes wearing the scales of a businessman, others the lonely ire of the curling pumpkin flower:
the elder doesn't care to be modest, mounds of flowers refuse to raise the white flag.

Snake!  All you care about is your turf, its rivers and lakes,
whether you wander or not, it’s the same.  Your passion, it is still the passion of the Boxers!

In the narrow alley, how will you take care of the glossy waves breaking over your forehead,
rivers rushing from the interior, playing with the universe in the palm, convinced of godhood.

Ghosts have gone out of style, actually, chives ignite the eye's pupils....
Your commentary's naturally gone poor, putting up satellites, not putting out the honest heart.

So you can talk bull until the cows come home, but you're still a player:
dew throws itself at the sizzling iron-clad roof, can't you just quiet down and lose some weight?

© translated from Chinese to English by Nick Admussen

晦涩诗

kitajščina | YA Shi

文学讨好心脏之嘭嘭和事后青肿,
你嘭嘭嘭,我无端青肿。
 
好样的,挺在挖掘机举起铁臂
暴露、羞愧的那一刻,
 
凝在转瞬之中,几乎永久!
夏露回信说,你还晦涩得不够。
 
暴怒分多种:媚主的,绾个小鬏鬏;
流猫尿的,不裂肺,只管摧魄……
 
明晃晃制度怂恿软弱?
鱼刺众声汹涌,破碎山河,但梗喉中。
 
最严重之事,无疑事先皆言中。
横刀气度呢?久违了。天地
 
权且案板,可以冷杉、青棡、红松……
“精神和肉体,统统剁成精肉!”

© Ya Shi

Cryptic Poem

angleščina

The bang bang of the fruits of literature and the bruising after,
you bang bang bang, I bruise for no reason at all.

A good guy, perched on the excavator, extends its metal arms
and the moment of exposure, of shame

condensed into a twinkling, lasts almost forever!
The summer dew writes back, says you’re still not cryptic enough.

Fury has many categories: flattering, hair pinned in tight bun,
stream of cat piss, unaggrieved, engrossed by the broken soul......

Has the glittering system made us weak?
The fish bone chorus is violent, cracking the scenery but blocked in the throat.

What’s most serious doubtlessly happened before all the talking.
Swashbuckling heroism?  Haven’t seen it in ages.  On heaven and earth’s

temporary chopping block, you can put fir, white oak, red pine......
Spirit and the flesh, carved right down to the quick!

© translated from Chinese to English by Nick Admussen

生日诗

kitajščina | YA Shi

还是闷热。还是一个人起床,收拾牛角上
渐渐醒转的渺小皮囊……
 
不在亲人面前说悲伤,今天也不。
今天无人可说。今天,流通货跟随腐蚀的化学。
 
针尖上讨尊严的叹谓,其实牙刷。
漫漫内省,鹿眼睛、小卷耳、狗鼻子、花舌头,
 
这漏食口袋囫囵吞下宇宙,又煮沸无脊椎的海兽!
正午,盘腿坐在新雨沙发上数腿毛。
 
第一次睁开眼睛时,全素。
公立大学的数学老师,极少数讲台上穿短裤,
 
那嘴含绿薄荷的一个,腿杆正直、谦卑地张开毛孔,
反思道之所盗与神圣的恶俗。
 
如此就四张有余了!牛角顶穿新雨面目,
回到撑开子宫的一刻?不,通电成透明的红色水母。

© Ya Shi

Birthday Poem

angleščina

Still sultry.  Still waking up alone, tidying the tiny sack
of flesh, itself slowly waking, that hangs from the horntip of the Cow Year...

Talking to strangers about my troubles: not today, either.
Nobody to talk to today.  Today, goods circulate in the manner of corrosive chemistry.

In point of fact, what’s causing such majestic sighing is the toothbrush.
I perform slow introspection: deer eyes, little scrolls of ears, dog nose, flowery tongue,

a glutton wolfing down the cosmos, and boiling the invertebrates of the sea!
At noon, I’ll sit the sofa of the new rain, cross my legs and count their hairs.

The first time I ever opened my eyes, I was vegan.
Math teachers at public universities barely ever give lectures wearing shorts,

that one with a mouthful of spearmint, trunks of the legs straight, pores humbly opening,
thinks on the Way that can waylay and the grotesque habits of the divine.

It's been like this for more than forty years!  The bull’s horn pierces the new rain's face,
shall I go back to when the womb opened?  No: electrocuted, I become a sea medusa, gossamer red.

© translated from Chinese to English by Nick Admussen

斧头诗

kitajščina | YA Shi

不再沉湎于夜色。但夜,始终在那里。
所以,现在,我是疯狂的。
   
梦境呢?不会迷信了。奇怪的是:
如同厨房乒乓作响,梦境,也一直在那里。
  
微醒之时,眼眸竟是清凉的柑橘!
是啊,我还活着,矛盾、混乱,又柔软……
  
若热气腾腾可障人耳目,就好了;
若保暖内衣也是隐身衣,就 好了。
  
朋友,别误会,我说的全是朗朗白日之事。
正择菜呢,葱根上有两小块蹄形
  
泥渍……不必 声张,剐掉那层葱皮就可以了。
人间,安静之事太多,所以是疯狂的。
  
更疯狂的事:一颗大树,广阔星空下
伐 倒了数次,而斧头,还明亮地立在那里!

© Ya Shi

Axehead Poem

angleščina

I will no longer revel in the dark of night.  But night is always there.
Therefore, now I am insane.

And the dreamworld?  It’s no superstition.  The odd thing is:
like ping pang kitchen noises, the dreamworld is also constantly present.

Half-awakened, my pupils turned to cool tangerines!
Really, I’m still alive, conflicted, chaotic, and soft...

If the searing heat can blind and deafen, then great:
if thermal underwear is a cloak of invisibility, then great.

Friends, do not be mistaken, I’m talking about the white hot, blazing sun.
I’m trimming greens, on the root of the onion there are two hoof-shaped

mud stains....no need to tell anybody, it’s enough to carve out the offending flesh.
There are too many quiet matters in this world, and so it is insane.

What’s crazier: under the vast, starry sky, a great tree
has been felled many times, but the axehead, it still stands there gleaming!

© translated from Chinese to English by Nick Admussen