鲁鱼:获美国「手推车文学奖」提名的十首诗

2020-11-29  本文已影响0人  鲁鱼和西楠的作品集
摄影:@鲁鱼

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今天推送 @鲁鱼 的一组诗。这些诗大部分写于2013-2014年之间,今年初由 @西楠 完成英文翻译,2020年10月在美国一家出版社旗下杂志发表,并获得当月最佳作品奖。没有想到的是,这些诗很快又被提名2020年的「手推车文学奖」。手推车文学奖是英语文学中著名的小众文学奖项,创立于美国,至今已有40余年的长久历史。下面就是鲁鱼的这些诗作,祝他 (它们) 好运!也希望大家会喜欢。

*诗作的英文译文请见本文下半部分。
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出 门 向 东

作者:鲁鱼
译者:西楠
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我经常说,诗是一种现实。这种现实跨越了梦境与日常的界限。下面的这些诗,有的来源于日常现实,有的来源于梦境,有的既是梦境也是现实。它们之间的界限是模糊的;它们是可以沟通的。它们共同构成了我的生活。

(鲁鱼, 2020年2月)
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《我把我的电话号码写在了电线杆上》

我把我的电话号码
写在了一根电线杆上
这可以用粉笔也
可以用签字笔或者
别的你能找到的东西
经常把电话号码写在
电线杆上的无非是
一些办假证的看病的
卖房子招工求租转让
二手物品找同性朋友
以及丈夫没有生育能力
希望有好心人圆自己
生子梦的我显然不属于
这些我只是把我的电话
号码写在了一根电线杆上
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《雨从昨天下午一直下到现在而且还在下》

你还记不记得我曾在江边发现过一根圆木
我很喜欢它但它实在是太大了我没法把它弄回来
还是那根圆木。昨天晚上有人把它给我送来了
送到了我的家里。那真是一块好木头。
而且我还记得。我说过我想用它做一只凳子
我现在正在把它做成一个凳子
我已经弄干净了它外面的皮子和腐烂的部分。
接下来要做的是把它弄得看起来尽可能像凳子并且非常稳当
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《父亲》

我们的父亲死了
我们没有把父亲埋掉
父亲就放在我们家里的一个角落
一开始我们还担心
父亲会不会腐烂
会发出难闻的气味
其实一点也没有腐烂
父亲只是变得越来越干瘪
最后变成一堆完全干枯的树枝
随便堆在那里
有时我们还会看见
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《死去的人》

猛见两个死去的人
一个死去多年
一个去年刚刚去世
他们一个请我吃饭
去一个凌晨营业的餐厅
喝一种没有喝过的米酒
一个给我讲
一些神秘的话语
他们都来无消息去无踪影
他们都比活着时候年轻
他们看起来都还过的不错
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《六楼》

一个人在前面走
我跟在他后面
我们穿过一条又一条
小巷
最后爬上一座
楼房的六楼
六楼已经是楼顶
一面是平台
一面是小屋
那个人打开屋门
走了进去
我站在平台上
看星星
晚上的天气特别好
已经有些寒冷
我看见六楼的星星
比地上看见的要大些
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《理想生活》

我想我应该
买一台剪草机
在此之前
要先买一幢
大一点的房子
院子也要大
院子里一年四季
都长满青草
我在楼上写诗
累了就开着我新买的剪草机
刷啦啦啦的剪草
青草在我的
剪草机前上下翻飞
满院都是好闻的青草气味
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《喝酒的人》

喝酒的人
为了喝下一杯酒
脱下了手套
接着又脱掉了帽子
虽然戴着手套和帽子
一样可以
喝完这杯酒
但他还是
义无反顾
脱掉了它们
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《出门向东》
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我每天出门
向东而去
这一般是去解放公园
只有很少时候
是去公交站
乘公共汽车
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我有时
感到疑惑
那些出门向北
或者向南
的人们
他们每天
都去了哪里
.
有一天
我没有像往常一样出门向东
没有人知道我去干什么
也没有人知道我去的是什么地方
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《三棵树》

你有没有去过
一个叫三棵树的地方
我没有去过
我去过的那个地方
是四棵树
事实上我在那里
一棵树也没有见到
或者曾经见到
后来忘记了
三棵树也不是现在
我正在读的书的名字
只是这本书马上要读完了
我忽然就有些伤心
也是在这时候
我从收音机里听到了
三棵树这个名字
这是一种新牌子的油漆
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《生羊大赛》

为发家致富
女人们
决定自己生一只羊
而且还举办了生羊大赛
最先分娩的
是一个年轻女人
很轻松就生下一只
浑身洁白的小羊
脐带还没有剪断
就开始在地上四处奔跑
小羊跑得可真快
像一匹白色的马驹
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作者:鲁鱼,诗人,实验文本写作者,「鲸鱼书坊」独立出版人。出版诗/文集四部,部分作品被翻译成英文,出版/发表于海外。曾获《地下》诗歌艺术奖。其诗歌英译作品十首 (西楠 译) 获2020年美国 “手推车文学奖” 提名。
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译者:西楠,写作,翻译,「鲸鱼书坊」独立出版人,著有多种文体作品,部分以英文出版/发表于海外。其英译诗歌作品十首(原作者:鲁鱼)获2020年美国“手推车文学奖”提名。
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图为诗人 @鲁鱼,摄影:@西楠

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GO OUT AND HEAD EAST

Author: Fish Lu
Translator: Xi Nan
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I often say that poetry is a kind of reality. This reality crosses the line between dream and daily life. Some of the following poems you are going to read come from everyday reality, some from dreams, and some are both dreams and reality. The boundaries between them are blurry; they communicate with each other. And they together constitute my life.

(Fish Lu, February 2020)
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<I Wrote My Phone Number on a Telephone Pole>

I wrote my phone number
On a telephone pole
This can be done with a chalk or
A sign pen or
Any other things you can find
People who often write their phone number
On a telephone pole are no more than
Some fake-certificate makers, medical quacks
Real-estate agents, small factory recruiters,
Potential tenants, property sellers
Second-hand item sellers, same-sex friend seekers
And whose husbands are infertile—
Who hope kind-hearted people would fulfill
Their dreams of pregnancy, I obviously don’t belong to
These people I just wrote my phone
Number on a telephone pole
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<Raining Since Yesterday Afternoon and it’s Still Raining>

Do you remember I once found a piece of tree trunk by the river?
I liked it but it was really too big and I couldn’t get it home
Still that tree trunk. Last evening someone had it brought to me
Brought it to my place. That is really a piece of good wood!
And I also remember. I said I wanted to use it to make a stool
I am right now making it into a stool
I already have cleaned its skin and the rotten parts.
The next thing to make it resemble a stool as possible and stable
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<Father>

Our father died
We did not bury him
Father was placed in a corner of our house
At first we were worried
Whether father would got rotten
Smell foully
In fact, did not rot at all
Father just got more and more mummified
Finally turned into a bunch of totally withered branches
Just piled there
Sometimes we still see
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<The Dead>

Suddenly saw two dead persons
One had died for many years
One just died last year
One of them invited me to dinner
At a restaurant that opened in the early morning
Drank a kind of rice wine I’d never tried before
The other said to me
Some mysterious words
They both came without signs and left without traces
They both were younger than before their deaths
They seemed to be doing very well
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<Sixth Floor>

One person is walking in the front
I walk follow him
We walk through one alley
After another
Finally we climb up to the sixth floor
Of a building
The sixth floor is already the highest
One side is a rooftop
The other side is a small room
That person opens the room door
Walks inside
I stand on the rooftop
Looking at the stars
The night weather is exceptionally good
Already a little cold
The stars I see from the sixth floor
Are bigger than those I see from the ground
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<Ideal Life>

I think I should
Buy a lawn mower
And before that
I’ll need to buy one
Bigger house
Its yard should be big, too
All year round
The yard is covered with grass
I write poems upstairs
When tired, I turn on my new lawn mower
Hoo-la-la-la, to mow the grass
The grass flies up and down
Surrounding my lawn mower
Good smell of grass pervades the whole yard
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<The Drinker>

For a glass of liquor
The drinker
Took off his gloves
Then took off the hat
Although he could
Finish this glass of liquor all the same
With gloves and hat on
He still had
Without hesitation
Taken them off
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<Go Out and Head East>
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I go out every day
Head east
Usually to the Emancipation Park
Only for very few times
I go to the bus stop
To take a bus
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I sometimes
Wonder:
Those people
Who go north
Or south
Where have they been
Every day?
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One day
I don’t go out and head east as usual
No one knows what I’m going to do
No one knows where I’m heading to, either
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<Three Trees>

Have you been to
A place called “Three Trees”
I haven’t
The place I’ve once been to
Was called “Four Trees”
In fact I never saw
Even one tree there
Or I might have seen some
But later forgot
“Three Trees” is neither the name of
The book I’m reading right now
Just that I’m about to finish the book
I suddenly get sorrowful
And this is the time
When I hear from the radio
The name “Three Trees”
It is a new brand of paint
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<A Contest: Giving Birth to a Lamb>

In order to develop the family wealth
The women
Decided to give birth to a lamb by themselves
And held a contest for this
The first one who gave birth
Was a young woman
Easily gave birth to a
Spotlessly white lamb
With one end of the navel string yet uncut
The lamb started running around the ground
It ran really fast
Like a white colt!
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Author: Fish Lu(鲁鱼), poet, writer of experimental texts, indie publisher of Whale Studio. He has published four poetry/hybrid collections, and part of his works are translated and published in English. In 2014, Fish Lu won the UNDERGROUND poetry art award (China). The English translation of his ten poems (translated by Xi Nan) is nominated for the 2020 American Pushcart literary prize.
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Translator: Xi Nan(西楠), born in China, writes and translates, indie publisher of Whale Studio, author of different genres. Some works of hers are published in English.Her translation work of ten poems (originally authored by Fish Lu in Chinese) is nominated for the 2020 American Pushcart literary prize.
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