Wang Jiaxin

聚会结束了，海边的餐桌上
留下了几只硕大的
未掰开的牡蛎。

"其实，掰不开的牡蛎
才好吃"，在回来的车上
有人说道。没有人笑，
也不会有人去想这其中的含义。
夜晚的涛声听起来更重了，
我们的车绕行在
黑暗的松林间。
...

End of a reunion. On the seaside table
Lie a few colossal
oysters, not yet opened.

"They taste better if you can't
Open them," someone says. No one laughs
Or bothers to think what it means.

We listen to the sound of night waves and drive
Through the unending road
Of dark pines.

2012
...

从一棵茂盛的橡树开始
园丁推着他的锄草机，从一个圆
到另一个更大的来回。
整天我听着这声音，我嗅着
青草被刈去时的新鲜气味，
我呼吸着它，我进入
另一个想象中的花园，那里
青草正吞没着白色的大理石卧雕
青草拂动；这死亡的爱抚
胜于人类的手指。
醒来，锄草机和花园一起荒废
万物服从于更冰冷的意志；
橡子炸裂之后
园丁得到了休息；接着是雪
从我的写作中开始的雪；
大雪永远不能充满一个花园，
却涌上了我的喉咙；
季节轮回到这白茫茫的死。

我爱这雪，这茫然中的颤栗；我忆起
青草呼出的最后一缕气息……
...

He starts at the lush oak tree,
making small circles on the lawn to a larger
Circle. I listen to the gardener mowing, sniff
The grass, the freshness from the cut,
I breathe in, and enter another garden
Of my imagination where the grass is swallowing
The white marble carvings on the bench—
Waves of the grass, like death caressing me
From human fingers.

I wake up, and see an abandoned mower.
It's cold. Things around me are submitting to something colder.
The oak tree bursting out, the gardener
At rest, eternally. It starts snowing
From my pen— it will not fill the garden
But my throat. This white death, the reincarnation of seasons
Of larger death, I love
The choking white snow, the thrill of loss. I recall
The last green breath of grass…

1992
...

— In Memory of Andrei Tarkovsky
We come to Gotland to look for a lone tree—
The tree in your last film that
Grows leaves after death

We search along the coast and find
No single tree by itself
Only woods and forests
"Impossible to survive alone"
On this windy island. A tree stands by itself
In your mind only

Even its shadow will betray it
Unless a boy waters it everyday with a bucket
Taller than himself

Unless the tree grows out of a seed of tears

2010
...

在哥特兰
我们寻找着一棵树
一棵在大师的最后一部电影中
出现的树
一棵枯死而又奇迹般
复活的树

我们去过无数的海滩
成片的松林在风中起伏
但不是那棵树

在这岛上
要找到一棵孤单的树真难啊

问当地人，当地人说
孤单的树在海边很难存活

一棵孤单的树，也许只存在于
那个倔犟的俄国人的想象里

一棵孤单的树
连它的影子也会背弃它

除非有一个孩子每天提着一桶
比他本身还要重的水来

除非它生根于
泪水的播种期

　　2010
...