Poetry / March 2016 (Issue 31)


Three Poems from October Dedications

by Mang Ke, translated from the Chinese by Lucas Klein



我至今不清楚自己准确的年龄大概已活了十几年
可是我却知道我的脑袋什么乌七八糟的事都想
我走在街上双脚使劲儿地踩着一个女孩儿的影子
从我身旁晃悠着走过一个被拍着屁股的婴儿睡着了
离我不远的那个老头儿不知他从地下捡走了什么
谁也不理睬那些孩子们挺着肚皮在大街上撒尿
我突然被吓了一跳竟有人把狗放出家门我急忙躲开
人群中不知是什么人在众目睽睽之下呕吐一地
我视而不见转身发现对面一双大胆而放荡的眼睛
我简直不明白她为何这副模样她为什么要出来丢脸
迎面一个无事可干的男人胖得油亮直眉瞪眼地盯着我
我猜不出他想干什么他肚子里打着什么主意
真是讨厌一只挨了打的猫冲着一个呆子叫个没完
我对着它指手画脚地嚷嚷你怎么不蹿上去抓他的脸
可是这个笨蛋反倒逃跑了我诅咒它决不会有好下场
在高处有扇窗户打开着并且挑出一个丑姑娘的面孔
我同她打个招呼闹着玩儿却把她的头吓得缩了进去
我真想不出她想的是什么我感到好笑又觉得无聊
忽然一个女人惊惶的声音像急救车一样尖叫着跑过
紧跟着在她后面传来一个凶恶的男人满嘴的脏话
看热闹的人议论纷纷当中还有人比划着下流手势
一个小伙子把痰吐在了那个画在墙上的女人的身上
我差点儿摔了一跤真他妈的居然路上堆着垃圾
那一头碰在我背后的乞丐他双脚在地面仔细地寻找
这会儿看来已到了晚饭时间只见有钱的走进了饭馆
而一个油头粉面的家伙却急忙解着裤带钻进厕所
街上的人开始渐渐稀少我注意到他们都回家了
就连那个太阳也好像有家似的它这时也匆匆溜走
天黑了下来我仍旧在街上游荡感到肠胃一阵疼痛
我现在真想发疯似的喊叫让满街都响起我的叫声


STREET

even today I'm unsure of my actual age I've probably been alive a decade or so
but I know in my mind I'm always thinking about anything and everything
I walk down the street both feet trying to step into some girl's shadow
right beside me a sleeping baby's butt being patted comes rolling by
far away this old guy plucks up I don't know what from the ground
nobody's paying any attention to those kids bellies out pissing on the street
all of a sudden something scares me someone let a dog out I jump
I don't know who is puking all over in a crowd of staring eyes
I don't see anything so I turn around and find a pair of bold and licentious eyes
I can't figure out why she looks like she would come out to humiliate herself
right before me is an oily-fat man with nothing to do staring at me scowling
I have no idea what he wants to do what plans he's making in that little mind of his
so annoying this cat looking for a beating comes running out hissing nonstop at some moron
I point and shout why don't you just jump up and scratch his face
but that little idiot just runs away I curse it nothing good will come
up above a window opens out pops some girl's ugly face
just for fun I wave to her and scare her little head back inside
I can't figure out what she's thinking I found it funny but also pointless
suddenly a woman runs by screaming her head off sounding like an ambulance
chasing right behind her is a vicious looking guy spewing a mouthful of bad words
a crowd of people gathers around making comments and dirty gestures
a kid spits on the body of a girl painted on the wall
I just about trip over a damn pile of trash right there on the street
the beggar whose head hits me in the back is searching the ground with his feet
looks like it's time for dinner only people with money head into restaurants
and an oily-haired ruddy-faced guy is unbuckling his belt scurrying into the restroom
the people on the street thin out I notice they're all heading home
even the sun seems to have a home at this point slipping away
the sky's gone dark I'm still hanging out on the street I feel a pain in my stomach
right now I want to scream like a madman the whole street will resound with
        my screams
 
 
 
 
 
死后也还会衰老

地里已长出死者的白发
这使我相信:人死后也还会衰老

人死后也还会有噩梦扑在身上
也还会惊醒,睁眼看到

又一个白天从蛋壳里出世
并且很快便开始忙于在地上啄食

也还会听见自己的脚步
听出自己的双腿在欢笑在忧愁

也还会回忆,尽管头脑里空洞洞的
尽管那些心里的人们已经腐烂

也还会歌颂他们,歌颂爱人
用双手稳稳地接住她的脸

然后又把她小心地放进草丛
看着她笨拙地拖出自己性感的躯体

也还会等待,等待阳光
最后像块破草席一样被风卷走

等待日落,它就如同害怕一只猛兽
会撕碎它的肉似的躲开你

而夜晚,它却温顺地让你拉进怀里
任随你玩弄,发泄,一声不吭

也还会由于劳累就地躺下,闭目
听着天上群兽在争斗时发出的吼叫

也还会担忧,或许一夜之间
天空的血将全部流到地上

也还会站起来,哀悼一副死去的面孔
可她的眼睛还在注视着你

也还会希望,愿自己永远地活着
愿自己别是一只被他人猎取的动物

被放进火里烤着,被吞食
也还会痛苦,也还会不堪忍受啊

地里已经长出死者的白发
这使我相信:人死后也还会衰老


EVEN AFTER DEATH WE GROW OLD


the white hair of the dead grows from the ground
which makes me believe: even after death we grow old

after we die nightmares will still throw themselves on us
and wake us, as we open our eyes to see

another day hatch from its eggshell
to start pecking for food on the ground

we will hear our own footsteps
hear our own feet laughing and worrying

we will remember, even if our brains are empty
even if those in our hearts have already decomposed

we will eulogize them, eulogize our loved ones
gently hold their faces in our hands

and carefully lay them down in the bushes
to watch them clumsily pull their sexy shapes out

we will wait, wait for the sunlight
to be carried by the wind like a tattered straw mat

wait for the sunset, avoiding you as if in fear of
a wild animal tearing through its flesh

and the night, meekly pulling you into its arms
no matter how you fuss, or vent, or make no sound

we will collapse to the ground in exhaustion, eyes closed
listening to the cackle of birds fighting in the sky

we will worry, will the sky’s blood
pour onto the earth over night

we will stand, mourning a dead face
though her eyes still stare at you

we will hope, wishing we could live forever
wishing we were not some animal to be hunted

cooked over open flame, eaten
we will hurt, and oh we won’t be able to bear it

the white hair of the dead grows from the ground
which makes me believe: even after death we grow old
 
 
 
 
晚年

墙壁已爬满了皱纹
墙壁就如同一面镜子
一个老人从中看到了一位老人
屋子里静悄悄的,没有钟
听不到嘀嗒声,屋子里
静悄悄的,但是那位老人
他却似乎一直在倾听着什么
也许,人活到了这般年岁
就能够听到──时间
──它就像是个屠夫
在暗地里不停地磨刀子的声音
他似乎一直在倾听着什么
他在听着什么
他到底听到了什么


LATE YEARS


the wall is crawling with wrinkles
the wall is like a mirror
an old man looking at an old man from within
the room is silent, and there is no clock
to tick-tock, the room
is silent, but the old man
seems to be listening in on something
perhaps, reaching this age
you can hear—time
—like a butcher
in the dark ground the endless sound of sharpening knives
he seems to be listening in on something
what’s he listening to
what can he hear
 
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