费一飞[中国]
诗十首
观落日
山上适合观望，落日西沉
它不紧不慢
戴着昏黄的帽子，低眉顺眼，渐渐瓜熟
蒂落
溪水流出山谷，一路喧响
但叫不住急匆匆要下山的一枚松果
一只山雀也不甘寂寞
用稀落的鸣叫伴奏缓慢的黄昏
夕阳一步步走远
只要起身就可以到达大海
到达未知的彼岸
当然一切还不能事先断定
——这我知道，一直活着
就是为了送走一些东西
直到有一天，别人站在我跟前
把我送走
至于最后去了哪里
现在我还无法回答
看到一只翠鸟
翠鸟俯冲的时候，我恰好
坐在湖边
落日以明亮的方式
记录了一道美丽弧线的始末
蓝光闪过，水面上激起一圈小小的漩涡
击中之后是消失，是窒息
我停住呼吸，等一发炮弹在水里爆炸
吃惊于艳丽的羽毛下竟是一颗猛禽之心
渺小的生存也上演弱肉强食
但后面的剧情更出乎意料
远远超出了我对一个杀手的预见——
它冲出水面，飞回树梢，抖掉身上的水滴
把猎物
喂给了另一只翠鸟
不安
当觉得庭院很完美，草木和睦相处
鸟声安详，悦耳。又会觉得不安
觉得应该有点尖锐，有些争吵
那你就种下月季或者蔷薇
木香绵里藏针，也是优秀的占领者
它们无需清规戒律，只有用不完的青春
恣意地迎风生长
一场大雨之后，原来的和平之地
立即有了刺的耀武扬威
有了不讲道理的漫延与奔放
战场是残酷的，而蜂蝶
飞舞得更猛烈了
你站在它们中间有燃烧的感觉
甚至想像从此跻身其中
因为这才叫生活，真正的葳蕤
需要有点芜杂
真正伟大的爱情必须互赠占有与疼痛
白鹤
只有这样的白，才能映衬大地
内心的纯洁
一场迁徙归来，故地依旧
疲惫的眷恋比去年更加消瘦
心思是细长的，如蒿草的漫延
独立于水泽的边缘
多像许多年前一个看榜的书生
长久地，站在落第的寂寞里
提起一只脚，是因为大千世界
还没有一个地方足够干净
却适合在黄昏或者清晨
用一声长唳呼唤一场大雪降临
然后用另一只脚，撑住
倾斜的地球，以及我们的愧疚
现在，我开始爱我自己
以前，我一直
让自己努力爱这个世界
我很怕，如果没有这份拼命的爱
这个并不富裕的世界
也许会忽略我
对我另眼相看
现在，我开始爱我自己
因为我越来越觉得
爱不动这个沉重的世界
我的爱是有限的
应该爱的容易一点
或者这么说吧
如果我不爱我自己
就无法爱这个世界
枯葵印象
深秋的风
摧枯拉朽
卷走一个季节
大地在辽阔的天空下
深刻地荒芜
一枝枯葵独立在路边
干瘦，倔强，直立
哪个农民这么有诗意
创作如此醒目的孤独，顶住
即将到来的冬天
站立着的是太阳的性格
让人想起，自己
曾站在荒凉中的民族
旧物
岁月之潮退去时
会洒落光泽黯淡的旧物
就像闭着眼睛的贝壳
留在了海滩上
我怀着复杂的心情
把它们归拢在一起
既免得太占地方
又便于珍藏
但不时总能听见
它们叮叮当当的声响
这独一无二的过去
既无可替代也难以忘怀
于是，我拿起一件端详
想起遥远日子里的亲切
即便是局促的难堪
过去了
才显出意味深长
我留着这些凭据般的老物件
是想留下走过这个世界的念想
独坐泰山
这时我坐在山上
陷入沉默的石头
整整一个黄昏，一动不动
似乎给压顶的仪式
又增加一些分量
对面的山峰，头顶的云，盘旋的鹰
一定以为
我是一块新来的石头
还有无数个黄昏
一直这样下去，也许
我真的会变成
一块不错的泰山石
这有多好，从此可尽收大江南北
可以陪时间忘记苍老
何奈有一朵花，在旁边的石缝里
猛地开了，让我转过头
斜了一下眼
佛门
有一天下午
我专门跑到普陀
请教一位大师
怎样跨进寺门
大师跟我讲了很多
我似懂非懂
不忍心打断他，那么多
听上去很像哲学的道理
他的茶有点粗苦
我假装喜欢简饮
一直把苦涩喝得很淡
让他相信，我有点佛缘
送到门口
我又直接地问了一遍
大师，先出左脚
还是右脚
走过一只猫
城市的一角
一只流浪猫
在雨中散步
表情闲适地
穿过街心花园
就像走在自己的庭院
那个神态
很像人啊
这么悠闲
雨弄湿了
它的脚
它停了一下
举起一只
抖了一抖
就像甩了甩踩水的鞋
那个动作
很像人啊
这么敏感
雨下密了
天色将晚
去往哪里呢
它抬起头
若有所思地望了望天
就像一个思归的游子
那个表情
很像人啊
这么孤单
Fei Yifei [China]
Ten Poems
Watching the Sunset
The mountain is perfect for watching. The sun sinks westward
Unhurried
Wearing a dusky hat, it bows gently, like a ripening fruit
About to fall off the branch
The stream flows out of the valley, babbling along
Unable to stop a hurried pinecone tumbling downhill
A mountain bird, unwilling to be lonely
Accompanies the slow fading of the dusk with sporadic warbles
The sun steps further away
Closer and closer to the sea, to an unknown shore
Of course, nothing can be foreseen
—I know this: living is
To send things off
Until one day someone stands before me
To send me off
As for where I will go in the end
Now I cannot yet answer
Watching a Kingfisher
As the kingfisher dives
I am sitting by the lake
The setting sun, in its bright way
Records the drawing of a beautiful arc
A blue flash stirs a tiny ripple on the lake surface
And then all vanishes, followed by suffocating silence
I hold my breath, as if waiting for an underwater explosion
I’m startled that beneath such bright feathers
Hides the heart of a predator
And even the tiniest lives embody the law of the jungle
But what happens next surprises me even more
Far beyond what I foresee in this killer
It bursts from the water
Returns to the treetop, shakes off droplets
And feeds its prey
To another kingfisher
Unease
When the courtyard feels perfect
With all the plants being in harmony, and birds singing sweetly
You may grow uneasy
Thinking there should be some sharpness, some quarreling
Why not plant some roses or briers
Lady Banks rose is tough inside, an ideal conqueror here
With inexhaustible youth
It follows no rules, growing wildly against the wind
After a heavy rain, the once peaceful place
Fills with thorns brandished in defiance
With unruly spreading and exuberance
Savage defines this battlefield, yet bees and butterflies
Dance even more wildly
Standing among them, you will feel aflame
Even imagining yourself one of them
Because this is life. True abundance
Requires some chaos
Truly great love demands an exchange
Of possession and pain
The White Crane
Only such whiteness
Can reveal the inner purity of the earth
Back from migration, it sees the old land remain the same
Except for the weary clinging thinner than last year
Thoughts stretch far and slender, like wild wormwood spreading
It stands alone at the edge of the water
Much like a scholar long long ago
Gazing at the golden list of successes in the Imperial Exams
And then falling into endless loneliness of failure
It lifts one foot, for it sees no place in the vast world
Clean enough to rest both feet
But it finds here perfect for warbling at dusk or dawn
To summon a heavy snow
And with the other foot
It braces the tilted earth and our guilt
Now, I Begin to Love Myself
I always
Forced myself to love the world
For fear that without such desperate love
This world, not wealthy at all
Might overlook me
Or regard me differently
Now, I begin to love myself
For I have come to realize
I can no longer afford to love this world
My love being limited
I should love something easier
Or, let me put it this way
If I don’t love myself
Nor can I love this world
Impression of a Withered Sunflower
The deep autumn wind
Smashing and crushing
Sweeps away a season
Beneath the vast sky
The earth sinks into profound barrenness
By the roadside stands a withered sunflower
Skinny, stubborn, upright
Which farmer holds such poetic vision
To create such a striking solitude
That defies the approaching winter?
This standing figure carries the spirit of the sun
Reminding us of how our own nation
Once stood amid such desolation
Old Things
When the tides of time recede
They leave behind old things with faded luster
Like eye-closed seashells resting on the shore
With mixed feelings
I gather them together
To save space
And also to keep them as treasures
But every now and then
I hear faint clinking sounds from them
The unique past
Unforgettable, irreplaceable
I pick up one and gaze at it
Recalling the distant days, their warmth—
Even the moments of awkward unease
Once gone
They begin to reveal profound meaning
I keep these tokens of memory
As a way to leave behind
A trace of my walk through this world
Sitting Alone on Mount Tai
Here I sit on the mountain
Among silent stones
For the whole evening, motionless
As if adding weight to a solemn ritual
The peak opposite, the clouds above, the circling hawk
They surely believe
I am a newly arrived stone
If I continued like this for countless evenings
Perhaps I would truly become
A fine stone of Mount Tai
How wonderful it would be
To embrace all the rivers and lands, south and north,
To grow old alongside time itself
Yet, how could I ignore the sudden bloom of a flower
In the nearby crevice
I turn my head
And cast a sidelong glance
At the Threshold of Buddhism
One afternoon
I made a trip to Mount Putuo
To ask a master
How to cross the temple threshold
The master spoke at length
Yet too profound for me
I dare not interrupt
His philosophy-like teaching
His tea was slightly bitter
Yet I feigned a taste for simple drinks
Sipping until the bitterness faded
Hoping he’d believe I had a connection with Buddhism
At the threshold
I asked him again, directly
Master, which foot should I step first
Left or right
A Cat Passing By
In a corner of the city
A stray cat strolls in the rain
Leisurely
Wandering through the street garden
As if pacing in its own courtyard
Its demeanor
So human
So at ease
The rain dampens its paws
It pauses briefly
Lifting one paw to shake it
As if shaking water from a shoe
The motion
So human
So sensitive
The rain thickens
The sky grows darker
Where will it go
It raises its head
Gazing thoughtfully at the skies
Its expression
So human
So lonely
(Tr. Prof. Shi Yonghao；石永浩教授 译)
作者简介：
费一飞，中国当代优秀诗人，浙江省杭州市人。早年入伍，曾任空军某部军训部门负责人，中校军衔。军队转业后进入金融保险业，历任阳光财产保险浙江省分公司总经理、阳光人寿保险公司总裁、阳光财产保险公司总裁。一路走南闯北，坚持用诗歌创作收藏沿途风景，记录人生感悟。浙江省作家协会会员，中国诗歌学会会员，作品刊发于国内外各种报刊、平台、选本。出版诗集《我的河》《一边走，一边爱》及散文集、纪实文学等多部。曾获第七届中国当代诗歌奖、中华精短散文优秀作品奖等。部分诗作被翻译成多种外国文字。
About the author:
Fei Yifei, an outstanding contemporary Chinese poet, was born in Hangzhou, Zhejiang Province. In his early years, he served in the army and served as the head of the military training department in a certain Air Force unit, holding the rank of lieutenant colonel. After being transferred from the military, he entered the financial insurance industry, successively serving as the general manager of Sunshine Property Insurance Zhejiang Branch, the president of Sunshine Life Insurance Company, and the president of Sunshine Property Insurance Company. Throughout his journey, he has traveled extensively, persisting in creating poetry to capture the scenery along the way and record his life insights. He is a member of the Zhejiang Writers Association and the Chinese Poetry Society. His works have been published in various domestic and international newspapers, platforms, and anthologies. He has published poetry collections such as My River and Walking and Loving, as well as several collections of prose and documentary literature. He has received awards including the 7th China Contemporary Poetry Award and the Excellent Work Award for Chinese Concise Prose. Some of his poems have been translated into multiple foreign languages.
译者简介：
石永浩，山东财经大学外国语学院副教授，MTI导师。任《国际诗歌翻译》杂志客座总编。在《国际诗歌翻译》《诗殿堂》《人民日报》、意大利文学杂志《POMEZIA-NOTIZIE》、黎巴嫩《prix littéraires naji naaman 2021》、阿联酋《World Poetry Tree》、北马其顿《СОВРЕМЕНИ ДИЈАЛОЗИ》、荷兰《PEN & PAPIER》、美国《World Contemporary Poets Volume-1》等海内外纸版刊物和选本，以及中国诗歌网、中国诗歌学会网等电子平台发表数百篇翻译作品。已有译诗集《疯狂的房子》（以色列拉莉·齐皮·米凯利 著）、《一朵油菜花就是一颗小小的太阳》（中英对照，罗启晁 著）、《青铜》（中英对照，杨吉军 著）、《然后》（中英俄对照，杨吉军 著），以及合译诗集多部，分别在国内（包括香港）、美国、加拿大和意大利出版。曾获第六届中国当代诗歌奖·翻译奖、2021年度国际最佳翻译家称号。
About the translator:
Shi Yonghao, associate professor of Shandong University of Finance and Economics, postgraduate supervisor of the MTI program, guest-editor of Rendition of International Poetry. He has published hundreds of poems on journals such as Rendition of International Poetry, Poetry Hall, People’s Daily, POMEZIA-NOTIZIE (an Italian literary journal), prix littéraires naji naaman 2021 (Lebanon), World Poetry Tree (UAE), СОВРЕМЕНИ ДИЈАЛОЗИ (North Macedonia), PEN & PAPIER (Netherlands), World Contemporary Poets Volume-1, and some online platforms including Chinese Poetry, and Chinese Poetry Society. He has published collections of translated poems The Mad House (by Lali Tzipi Michaeli, Israel), A Rape Flower Is a Little Sun (Chinese-English, by Luo Qichao), The Bronze (Chinese-English, by Yang Jijun), Then (Chinese-English-Russian, by Yang Jijun), and co-translated several poetry collections, which have been published in China (including Hong Kong), America, Canada and Italy. In 2020 he was awarded “Best Translator” in the 6th Contemporary Chinese Poetry Award and Best Translator of the Year in 2021.
