得一忘二 英译
我只知道朴素是安徽人，是一位教师，其他的就不知道了；她的照片也是我从她微信上复制过来的。最初知道她也是因为吴晨骏和他的“现在写作”圈子。知道吴晨骏则早得多，1987年到东南大学教书时就知道了。我在“现在写作”的相关公号以及出版物中读到他们，差不多在朴素写作早些时期就注意到了她，并且似乎看得出她越写越好，她的口吻逐渐清晰化，从一开始的不怎么聚气，到现在比较可以指认得出。这是一种成熟。
吴晨骏对于“现在写作”的说法是，“提倡当代性、在场感和生命感。这些概念很好理解，就是指文学不应该仅仅成为炫技的工具，文学应该更多地与个体生命所在的时代相交融。”我看到“现在写作”的一群人写得很认真，对写作很诚挚，在一片喧嚣中冷静地追求自己的写作。
今天贴出朴素这首诗，也是因为她写的这个内容与我对苏北老家门口或周围的池塘的感觉有很多相似。这首诗写得冷静克制，略带点痛，既不居高临下，也不悲天悯人，绝不从煽情角度去触动读者；漫步的节奏和口吻将自己熟悉的具有在场感的故事以淡淡的语言写出来，这一点颇成功。当然，感觉她这首诗的自发性似乎也缺了一点应有的技术加工。我翻译得更自由一点，主要是显得对原文稍微精炼化一点，同时对原文的分节做了调整。
《池塘的故事》
池塘怎么形成的，不大清楚，搬过来就有了
我们原来住淮河大坝东边，几乎一年
重新垒一次家。蓄洪区，这是没办法的事情
夏天，农活忙，孩子们没人管
我们偷偷下水，从这边游到那边
到深水，开始害怕
小文哥哥是在池塘里淹死的，13 岁
传强是个坏孩子
他经常说水里有人摸他腿
城里来的，在姥姥家过暑假的姐弟俩
帮姥姥捞浮萍草喂鸭子
弟弟掉深水，小姐姐下去救
打捞上来时，他俩还手扯手分不开
又不忍心掰断，就做了一个宽点儿的小棺材
近几年，池塘只淹死过一个小男孩，4 岁
妈妈太马虎，去池塘边洗衣服
把孩子忘那儿了
也许有了这些淹死人的经验
小文爷爷瘫痪了
大冬天，爬进池塘，在浅水
就把自己闷死了
小爷爷没投水，用裤带把自己勒死
我们恐惧门后面，老奶也吊死在那里
大儿子少给一斗麦子，去讨要
媳妇又骂她
还有个大眼睛的爷爷，干过生产队长
老了，生了什么病
投池塘里，被人救了，不久又吊死
吊在哪呢，我没弄清楚
The Story of the Pond
I don’t know how the pond was formed
But it was always there when we moved to the village
We used to live on the east side of the Huaihe Dam
Rebuilding our home almost every year—
Unavoidable, as we were in flood storage zone
In summer, the fields demanded time
And children, left unwatched, would sneak into the water
Daring each other to swim across the pond
When the depths closed in, fear did too
Brother Xiaowen drowned there, at 13
Chuanqiang, a bit mischievous, often claimed
Something tugged at his legs below
A brother and sister from the city
Came to spend their summer at their grandma’s
They tried to help, gathering duckweed for the ducks
But the younger brother slipped into deep water
His sister tried to save him
When they were pulled out, their hands still clasped tight
They couldn’t bear to break their grip
So the small coffin was made wider
In recent years, only one more—
A boy of four, lost to the pond
His mother, careless, went down to wash clothes
And forgot him there
Perhaps the pond had a way of teaching through these happenings
For Xiaowen’s Grandpa grew paralyzed
He crawled to the water in the dead of winter
And suffocated himself in the shallows
Little Grandpa didn’t throw himself into the water
Instead, he chose his belt
Strangling himself behind the door—
A place we’ve feared since
Little Grandma hanged herself there too
Her eldest son was short of a bushel of wheat
And when she went to ask for it, she got
A scolding from the daughter-in-law instead
Another grandpa, big-eyed, once a village leader
With a difficult illness
Tried the pond but was saved—
Only to hang himself soon after
I never knew where he did that
