Poems from “A Summer Day in the Company of Ghosts”

取自《和幽魂在一起的夏日》诗三首

MARCH 14, 2023

You Tell Me You Miss Those Slow-Paced Days of the Past

You tell me you miss those
slow-paced days of the past
the equally leisurely pace of bicycles
and leaky wristwatches


We’re both out of step with the times, lifting our old-fashioned cups of coffee
drinking a cup to Carolyn, another to poverty
drinking a toast to the season of mental confusion
another to the unrelenting snowfall
and another to the listening devices of yore
The last cup we drink is to ourselves
men out of step with the times


You should know how happy it makes me to imagine you
in an utterly unfamiliar city
like Jerusalem or Marrakesh, or Johnson, Vermont
or some other city whose name neither of us can pronounce
And someday when my head is in the clouds
I might happen to run into you on a rainy street


So when I pause for a moment while writing you
it’s just me with my head in the clouds again
The moment I send the email, that’s when
the relentless wind and rain
come to a halt at last


A Brief History of Love

Sometimes you need a bout of illness
need to cry and cry     cry it all out
though it’s nothing but
finding a shoulder to cry on late at night


You need to plunge underwater
get to know the night-marauding pirates who hide out by day
though it’s nothing but loitering on the hotel rooftop
to cure the insomnia you’ve been trying to shake


You need to like it when sadness prevails over joy
and when you’re not in Shanghai you have to return
You need to forget to take your medications
It’s only forgetting that lets you remember


It’s like being face to face
with a lighthouse that flashes without warning


Haiku Aspirin

NIGHT FLIGHT
On the seatback screen
nothing but an airplane
moving slowly over the surface of the earth

And you are on that very plane


ELEVATOR
Holding an axe, a man in coveralls
steps into the elevator and stands behind you
The elevator descends too slowly

MAP
A map of the homeland you know by heart
labeled with a foreign script
becomes instantly strange

ANT
The red ant on the rooftop
is writing a postcard
No one knows if it will be delivered 

HOMETOWN
Morning in its shabby clothes
as dear to me
as my hometown

 

你对我说,怀念那些缓慢的旧日子

你对我说,怀念那些
缓慢的旧日子
同样缓慢的自行车
和漏水的手表


我们都是不合时宜的人,端着不合时宜的咖啡
这一杯敬卡洛琳,这一杯敬贫穷
这一杯敬神经错乱的季节
这一杯敬无休无止的雪
敬过时的窃听器
最后一杯敬我们自己
这些不合时宜的人


你该知道,我多么乐意想象你
在一个极其陌生的城市
譬如耶路撒冷 譬如马拉喀什
或者那些我们都念不出地名的城市
好让我在走神的时候
在被雨淋湿的街道上与你不期而遇


所以,给你写信停笔的时候
就是我一如既往地走神
我发送电子邮件的瞬间,就是
无休无止的暴风雨
终于停歇的时刻


爱情简史

你有时候需要生一场病
需要哭一哭 彻底哭出来
而不仅仅是
深夜里找人倾诉


你需要去潜水
去结识那些昼伏夜行的海盗
而不仅仅是待在旅馆的顶层
治疗久治不愈的失眠


你需要喜欢忧愁胜过喜悦
而不是在上海回到上海
你需要忘记吃药
只有在忘记的时候才会记得它


就像面对
猝不及防闪亮的灯塔


俳句的阿司匹林

夜航
航空椅背后的电视屏幕上
只有一架飞机
在地球的表面缓慢地移动 

而你就在这架飞机上

电梯
穿工装的男人提着斧子
走进电梯,站在你的背后
电梯下得太慢了

地图
即使再熟悉不过的祖国地图
如果标上异国的文字
也立刻变得陌生了

  

蚂蚁
屋顶上那只红色的蚂蚁\
在写明信片
无人知道是否能够收到

故乡
衣衫褴褛的早晨
如此亲切
好似故乡

 

Published in “Issue 2: Energy” of The Dial

Wang Yin (Tr. Andrea Lingenfelter)

WANG YIN, born in Shanghai in 1962, started publishing poetry in the 1980s, becoming recognized as one of the foremost writers of the Third Generation, or post-Misty, poets. As an art critic and reporter for Southern Weekly, China’s leading liberal newspaper, he has traveled extensively in Europe and Asia. His photography, often documenting his engagement with contemporary artists and writers, has been exhibited both in China and internationally. He has curated the international “Poetry Comes to the Museum” reading series at the Minsheng Museum in Shanghai since 2012, the longest running poetry series in the country. Wang Yin’s 2015 collection, Limelight, won two of China’s top poetry prizes, and his poetry has been translated into French, Japanese, Polish among other languages.

ANDREA LINGENFELTER is an award-winning translator, poet, and scholar of Sinophone literature. Her numerous translations include The Changing Room: Selected Poetry of Zhai Yongming (Northern California Book Award winner), Hon Lai Chu’s The Kite Family (NEA Translation Fellowship grantee), Li Pik-wah’s (Lilian Lee) Farewell My Concubine and The Last Princess of Manchuria, and Mian Mian’s Candy and Vanishing Act. She teaches both literary translation and the literature and film of the Asia-Pacific at the University of San Francisco.

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