我的2000年開始旅行

天空伸展她的胳臂
延伸，到舊城區如同
房舍鏽蝕的排水管
或爭論，或抱怨，或乾涸無語了

只有不眠之後的身體
顫語之中，我的
這黎明已屆滿二十八歲
終要放棄靜者與心謀

翻動著
太陽與虛空因溫差造就的大洋
不等待發生些什麼
我已經完全地退縮

我已經完全地退縮
衝進已有指揮的交通
一切

不能容納的
都在這道，煙重疊上去
熱沙翻騰中的桅杆
撲向路燈的飛蛾
穿透了牠的血液，流質的
二十八年

Posted by enkaryon at 05:37 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

此處也有造夢的風景，
月光棄守的失物。
此處也有著普羅們，
濕土中的耕耘者。
也有著細胞，戰士般
為一首歌而拋擲自己的性命。

也有著葬地，
名聲與雪。
而，我是聽到了怨言，
聽到了，就是這片大地的起義。

In the Microscope
-- Miroslav Holub, MD*

Here too are the dreaming landscapes,
lunar, derelict.
Here too are the masses,
tillers of the soil.
And cells, fighters
who lay down their lives for a song.

Here too are cemeteries,
fame and snow.
And I hear the murmuring,
the revolt of immense estates.

*Translated into English from Czech by Ian Milner. Holub (1923 - 1998) worked as an immunologist during the day, wrote as a poet at night [via]. His poems rarely rhymed, so easily lent themselves to English translation.

Posted by enkaryon at 04:36 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)