诗人曰：记忆的镜子没有什么比婴儿眼更深邃

海外文苑

美国纽约【综合新闻】802期

主编：佩英

总编：程朗

总顾问：马华胜

汉译：佩英（Translated by Christine)

编者按：

本期 [世界诗坛]带来四位国际诗人作品。印度女诗人拉蒂以敏锐的触觉和生活中平凡的物事，表达深刻的道理。其语言朴实无华，却充满印度传统吠陀的睿智。

巴西诗人马赛洛是一位心理医生，他的诗风有科学的解剖和对人类精神的分析，也有对现实的批判。作为医生，他的诗中充满对病态社会的诊断，唯一他没有做的，是开出药方。想必，这样的社会之病痛，绝非普通药能治，抑或已无药可治？诗人没有明说，留下大量空白让读者去思考和探索。
瑞典女诗人拉尼娅的诗传递浓烈情感：语言热烈直接，充满动感，句式较短，节奏明快，贴合内容的激情主题。她从不同角度展现人类情感的丰富性和深度。在艺术表达上，诗人善于运用意象、语言和意境的结合，让情感加鲜活具体，表达对美好事物的追求。
塞浦路斯女诗人安德莉巧妙地通过象征、比喻与意象，创造出了既充满美感又富有哲理思考的作品，使得诗歌在艺术性与思想性上都达到了高水平。诗人将外部世界与内心世界结合，创造出富有诗意且充满象征意义的图景。每一首诗歌都在细腻的描写中融合了情感与哲理，使读者不仅能感受到诗歌的美感，还能引发深层的思考。（佩英）

Editorials:
In this issue of "World Poetry Journals", we present the works of four international poets.

Indian poet Rati Saxena，uses her keen sensibilities and the ordinary objects of daily life to convey profound truths. Her language is simple , yet brimming with the wisdom of India's traditional Vedic philosophy.

Brazilian poet Marcelo Reis de Mell）, a psychologist by profession, blends scientific dissection and analysis of the human spirit with critiques of reality in his poetic style. As a doctor, his poetry diagnoses the ailments of a pathological society but refrains from prescribing remedies. Perhaps the ailments of such a society cannot be cured with ordinary medicine—or perhaps they are beyond cure? The poet leaves these questions unanswered, creating ample space for readers to reflect and explore.

Swedish poetRania Angelakoudi's work conveys intense emotions with a passionate and dynamic style. Her language is fervent and direct, with short sentences and brisk rhythms that complement her passionate themes. She explores the richness and depth of human emotions from various perspectives. In her artistic expression, Lania skillfully combines imagery, language, and atmosphere, making emotions vivid and tangible while pursuing the beauty of life.

Cypriot poet Andry Christofidou Antoniadou masterfully employs symbolism, metaphor, and imagery to craft works that are both aesthetically pleasing and rich in philosophical reflection. Her poetry achieves a high level of artistry and intellectual depth by merging the external world with the inner realm, creating poetic and symbolic landscapes. Each poem intricately blends emotion and philosophy through meticulous descriptions, allowing readers to appreciate the beauty of the poetry while provoking deeper thought. (by Christine Chen)

拉蒂·萨克森纳（Rati Saxena），印度著名诗人、翻译家、哲学博士，她研究文化、历史和古代文学以及哲学。她在《阿闼婆吠陀》学研究上，取得哲学硕士和哲学博士学位。她有六本印地语诗集和四本英语诗集（翻译或改编）。她翻译了15本书，主要是从马拉雅拉姆语到印地语，以及5本诗集（国际诗人），从英语到印地语。2004年她获得英迪拉·甘地国家艺术中心奖学金，现任世界诗歌运动亚洲协调员。

我的床单

那天早上我醒来

看到 床单上有一个小窟窿

那是沉睡里迷失的结果

于是整天缝补，用丝线

到了晚上，我缝制了一个窗户

可一窥新梦

第二天醒来，又是一个新窟窿

这次我添上彩线

天黑前，我缝制了一扇门

现在，我的梦可以自在游荡，而无需凝视窗外

梦整夜漫游

每个早晨都有新窟窿

我每天都忙碌著丝线和颜色

时至今日，我的床单已是个偌大庭院

有一棵满是鸟雀的榕树它们咀有红星

尽管太阳和月亮都不见踪影

于是我每日清晨都寻找窟窿

或许太阳和月亮能缝补进去

不仅仅在这个星系里，还遍布于多重宇宙

我知道窟窿有尽时

通过最后一个窟窿离开此岸，进入神圣彼岸

在光中无缝衔接

在注册会计师办公室里一个无聊的下午

那只肥猫在皮革账本上打盹

数字从封皮下探出头来

跳跃着，欢快地逃向自由

猫咪睁眼，带些许兴趣

又合上，肚子装得实在太满

从我的位置凝视着这一切

不禁想象那些数字在猫肚子里的模样：

收益，亏损，全都搅在一起

我再也不会回到这个办公室了

A Yawny Afternoon at the Chartered Accountant's Office

As the fat cat grabs a catnap
On a leatherbound ledger’s back

Some numbers peek from under the binding
Leap out to freedom prancing and dancing

The cat’s eyes open with zero interest
And shut the gut has too much to digest

Staring at these from where I’m at
I imagine the numbers inside the cat
In the stomach the gains the losses

I ain’t coming back to this office

（Translated from the Hindi by Philip Nikolayev）

马塞洛·雷斯·德·梅洛（Marcelo Reis de Mello）
巴西诗人、教授和精神分析学家，巴西世界诗歌运动（WPM）协调员，也是金砖国家作家协会的巴西区负责人。他创作了获奖诗集《若泽永潜蓝池》（2020年，Garupa出版），以及其他多部著作。

巴西

有些日子，在平凡的顿悟边缘，

我突然看见自己被无限复制；

还有些日子，沉溺于酒精之中

（徘徊于裂隙与不同屋所之间）

我知晓万物的本来面貌

另一个可能的开头始：

在这样的时代

宇航员的双脚

与拖着身躯穿过城市广场的黑人残肢

已无分别——那个战争中的麻风病人

用帽子收集硬币

或者醒来时，像一场卡夫卡式的拼贴

穿着分期付款买来的昆虫睡衣

或者：

有些日子，沉迷于滑稽的煎熬

用我的右手“伸张正义”

我陷入沉默

在成人网站间

在广告狂欢的冥府里游荡

——性如此泛滥，是否意味着完全无性？

或许在凌晨三点半，

被一群蚊子惊醒，脑中充斥着这样的念头

试图介于讽刺与自我批判之间

至少不要显得像个彻头彻尾的傻瓜

这非自然醒

当然，说这些只是我的忏悔

但请相信我

我真希望能躺在一个

带着西班牙口音的漂亮女孩怀里

在一场轻柔的交欢后安然入睡

无论如何，我知道我会被指责为一个混蛋

一个白人和男人——

这些我既是又不是的时髦标签

多无聊啊！

（我倒是乐于说“无聊”这个词）

我再试一次

BRASIL

there are days when on the edge of an ordinary epiphany
I see myself suddenly multiplied
and others when surrendered to alcohol (divided
between cracks and other houses)
I know deeply the way things are.

another possible start:

in times like these it doesn’t matter
if an astronaut’s feet
or the stumps of the black man dragging
himself through city squares – old leper
of war collecting coins in a hat
or waking up like a Kafkian pastiche
in an insect’s pajamas bought
in instalments at a corner store.

or yet:

there are days when surrendered to the comic
ordeal of, with my right hand, doing justice to my body
I fall into silence
between Ajax and xvideos
in the enthusiastic Hades of advertisements.

– where there is that much sex is there no sex at all?

maybe it isn’t natural to wake up
three and a half a.m. alarmed by an army
of mosquitoes with this kind of thought
trying to sound between ironic
and self-critical, at least enough
not to come through as a complete idiot.

to say this, of course, is only mea culpa.
but believe me: I wish I were in the arms
of a really pretty girl with a Spanish accent
that made me doze off after light intercourse.

anyway I know I’ll be accused of being a prick
a white and a man, things which I am and am not
in the current fashion.

what ennui! (I find joy in saying ennui).
I’ll try again:

巴西 II

有些日子，也曾有一些日子，懦弱是唯一的裸露

有些日子，像今天这样的日子

祖国——尽管依然是无赖的最后避难所——

首先却是我们悲痛的（我本想说封建的）宿命

是的，也许一种奇怪的失眠

从这一刻开始诞生

此刻比起蚊子

人们更多地发现真正的寄生虫

潜伏在家门四周，伺机吸血

但有些日子，懦弱是诗人的咖啡

也有些日子，诗歌是懦夫的咖啡

再一次，当里约的流浪汉

和迈阿密的度假者们

伴着子弹和锅碗的声响醒来时——

那声音比郊区这一缕微小的阳光

更有金属质感——

我们将会看到

语言究竟由什么构成

那驱动饥荒的奇异火焰

又从何种血肉中诞生

也许没有其他声音

比奥运会工地的卡车声更适合提醒我们

与希腊之间的遥远与接近

也许没有其他声音

如果不是（如约翰·凯奇的无响室中）

这世界令人遗憾的心跳

而当我提到希腊、提到世界时

我希望自己的言辞不要如此史诗化

以至于无法想象

我选择了一种不至于让自己感到不适的平庸

最终，也许我并不想找到

这一天可能的开端

甚至盼望它迅速坠入另一个地质年代——

一个更加愚蠢的年代，或不那么愚蠢的年代

我只希望我能去那些普通人都会去的

同杂货店

不用抬头，也不必低头

只是在寻找一个中点

在那里，一个猴子曾小心翼翼地发现了

（不是火）而是阿司匹林®

BRASIL II

there are days, there were days, when cowardness is the only
possible nudity. There are days like today
when the homeland, although still the last refuge
of the scoundrel, is above all
a (I was gonna say feudal) destiny of our sorrow.

yes, maybe a strange insomnia is born
from this instant when, more than mosquitoes,
one finds real parasites
lurking for blood around the house.

but there are days when cowardness is the poet’s coffee.
and there are days when poetry is the coward’s coffee.

and again, as soon as Rio and its bums
just as the Miami vacationers
wake up to the sound of bullets and pans –
now a bit more metallic than this tiny sun
in the suburbs – we’ll see of what are made of
words, of which flesh is born
the strange flare that moves famine.

maybe not over another sound than that of trucks
in the Olympic building site reminding us of how close
and how far away we are from Greece.

maybe not over any other sound if not
(as in John Cage’s anechoic chamber)
the deplorable heart of the world.
and when I say Greece and say world

I hope not to sound so epic that one cannot
figure the kind of mediocrity
I elected not to fall in discomfort.

In the end maybe I want not to find
a possible start for this day, or even root
that it quickly plummets into another geological age
an even more stupid one, or less, I just
hope I get to go to the same grocery stores
than the rest of the people
without looking up or down, searching
to get the midpoint
where a monkey zealously discovered
(not fire) the aspirin®

　　

眼睑的解剖

闭上眼睛

并不是怯懦地制造

黑夜

睁开眼睛，也并非意味着

直接面对

火焰。

眼睑的第一层

只是皮肤

只有当皮肤与心之间

形成某种坡度

它们才算真正睁开

在内部

或在其上

（尽管如此纤薄）

附着着一抹肌肉

松弛的组织

腺体，神经分布

150多根睫毛

抵挡风暴

在看见与未看见之间

有些事物我们并不知道

哪怕经过无数个夜晚

一切似乎都成了可能

在像今年这样

可怕的岁月里

它们不断重复终结又重新开始

我们意识到

注视

也和时间相关

甚至可以说

主要与时间相关

时间，就像眼球

只展示表面

而掩藏裂隙

凹坑、管道

以及泪水的奇异机械

小时

可能是一次眼科的呼气

身体渗出的悖论：

我们所拥有的皮肤

是最新的

然而，正如纳瓦所说——

记忆的镜子没有什么比婴儿的眼睛

更深邃

THE ANATOMY OF EYELIDS

to close your eyes
is not to timidly manufacture
the night.

to open them isn’t yet
to stare face-first at
the fire.

only the first layer
of eyelids
is made of skin
and only when a slope
between skin and heart
stems it really means
they’re open

inside
or over which
(though so thin)
a bit of muscle
and lax tissue
glands, innervations
150+ lashes
against the storm.

there are things between seeing
and not seeing
we don’t know
for more than one night
through which all seems possible.

in terrible years
like this
that end as if they were born
again and again
we realize
looking
has to do
also
(or above all)
with time.

time which like eyeballs
only shows its surface
hides clefts
pits ducts
and all the strange machinery
of tears.

hours can be
an ophthalmic exhalation.

the body sweats oxymorons:
the skin we are
is the newest.

yet, as Nava
said – the mirror of memory.
and there is nothing deeper
than the eyes
of a baby.

拉尼娅·安杰拉库迪（Rania Angelakoudi）
拉尼娅·安杰拉库迪，瑞典作家、诗人。2015年，她获意大利文化安科纳市博物馆（Museo della Citta）获殊荣，是希腊唯一获得这一荣誉的女诗人。2016年，她被提名为“世界和平象征”，2017年她被全球和平研究所（World Institute for Peace）授予希腊和瑞典分部的“和平亲善大使”称号，被法国记者联合会（FIJET）授予荣誉会员称号。她的书籍收藏于斯德哥尔摩历史图书馆（Stadsbiblioteket），诗歌被翻译成多种语言传播。

振奋的渴望

在你的面前

我的心静止不动！

时光虔诚地化作美德

乘着我爱的船只启航

天空为你重塑了世界

为无色之物注入色彩

重新塑造云朵

幻化出一道彩虹的微笑……

我的爱充满活力

将拥抱你……

为你绽放！

敞开你灵魂的窗帘

卸下所有的枷锁

让我炽烈的激情

在你周围

激荡汹涌！

Invigorating need

My heart stands still
in your presence!
Reverent are the hours that virtues become
and set sail on the vessel of my love.
The sky remolds the world for you,
injecting hues in colorless things
reshaping the clouds
to form a rainbow smile…
My love invigorating
will enfold you…
It will blossom for you!
Open wide the blinds of your soul
remove your bolts
the torrent of my passion
all around you
will be raging

女祭司

我在你的祭坛上点燃了一支蜡烛

哦，炽热的女祭司！

你被你的女神光辉笼罩

而我努力睁开双眼

抗拒你光芒的辉煌……

它令我目眩！

我的敬意……

我的敬畏……

我的尊严……

以及我生命中的一切财富

我谦卑地奉献在你的脚下

你高高伫立

巍然……庄严……受人敬仰

我的女祭司……命运无常！

你已征服了我的身与心

我将我生命中的一切财富

都遗赠于你

我将我生命中的一切财富

都献给你

我会坚持

我会捍卫我的价值观

使之与你的价值观交融

化为理想

属于你和我！

我敬爱的女祭司

生命，如此珍爱却又如此苦楚

PRIESTESS

A candle I lit in your altar
O Priestess incandescent!
Enveloped as your are in the glow of your goddess
I struggle my eyes to keep open
against the splendor of your light…
It dazzles me!
My respect….
My awe…
My dignity….
And all the riches of my being
I humbly lay at your feet
As you stand tall
Towering…Majestic…Adored
My priestess….Life unpredictable!。

梦中少女

梦中少女，挚爱的女神

我将你的王座深深安置在我的灵魂中

你的眼眸之光让世界焕发生机

大自然绽放，欢舞雀跃

我沐浴在你秀发的洪流中，

我的灵魂在你的怀抱中舒展

这是通往情感翱翔的门槛

也是进入梦境世界的门槛

那世界由缪斯的歌声点缀

伴随着竖琴和潘神笛的旋律

如同海妖般，你迷住了我

将我拥入怀中，我的美丽之城

让我活在梦幻的世界里

让我放弃此生那些奥德赛般的冒险

以及前路上相撞的巨石……

你如鸽子般带领我前行

远离巨石；如星辰般照亮道路

我向你而来，投入你的怀抱，迷失自我

旅程便在此重新开始……

梦中少女，挚爱的女神

梦之城

Dream maiden

Dream maiden, goddess beloved
your throne I set deep in my soul
the world comes alive by the light of your eyes
Nature blossoms and dances.
I bathe in the torrent of your hair
and my soul into your arms spreads,
a threshold to a soaring of emoons,
a threshold to a world of dreams
graced by the songs of muses,
melodies from harps and Pan’s ute as accompaniment.
Like a siren you enchanted me
and held me close to you, my fair city
to live in a world of reverie
and to forego my Ulyssean adventures
in this life and the Clashing Rocks
that stand in my way…
And like a dove you lead me onwards …
Away from the rocks and like a star
you shine the way und I come
into your arms to lose myself
and so the journey begins anew…
Dream maiden, goddess beloved
City of dreams.

安德莉·克里斯托菲多·安东尼娅杜(Andry Christofidou Antoniadou)
塞浦路斯作家、诗人，曾任塞浦路斯担任中等教育局局长。她从事诗歌、短篇小说、戏剧、小说、散文以及研究论文的创作。她关于洛尔迦的研究被存档于丰特瓦克罗斯的洛尔迦研究中心和格拉纳达的洛尔迦基金会。她被认为是塞浦路斯最重要的洛尔迦研究专家。她关于塞万提斯的研究则被存档于西班牙的塞万提斯博物馆与研究中心。她已出版十四本书（1984年至2024年），并获得二十项全球及泛希腊文学奖项与荣誉。

探索

不要在紧闭的百叶窗中寻找我，

不要在那令我沉郁的残月中寻找我，

不要在炙热夏日融化的柏油路中寻找我，

也不要在那粉红迷人的黄昏中，

或在因爱而凋零的落叶间寻找我。

我化作了雨，

去滋润吞噬了你的沙漠。

我化作了泪，

去加重你的眼眸，

成为悲伤的慰藉。

我化作了旋律，

让你在某个创造的瞬间，

为我注入生命。

不要在永恒的古老图像中寻找我，

不要在那些带有神话或童话的故事里寻找我，

不要在因压力而融化的蜡质梦境中寻找我，

也不要在你那失落爱恋的名单中寻找我。

徒劳无功。

请在你的心中寻找我，

在那里，你会找到我。

QUEST

Seek me not
in the tightly closed shutters,
in the waning moon
that weighs on me
with depression,
on the summer middays
that melt the asphalt,
in the pink, enchanted sunsets
among leaves
that die of love.
I turned into rain
to water the desert
that has engulfed you.
I turned into a tear
to burden your eyes,
a relief of sorrow.
I turned into a melody
for you to bring me to life
in some moment of creation.
Seek me not
in eternal ancient images
with myths or fairy tales,
in dreams of wax
that melted by pressures,
in the list
of your lost loves.
In vain.

Seek for me
in your heart,
you will find me there.

街头音乐家

在伦敦的某个地方，

一个夏日的雨夜，

在街角，

一位中年音乐家，

眼睛紧闭，

正在按压那台老旧手风琴的黄色琴键，

琴声像风箱一样展开又收缩。

他的歌声充满激情，

在剧痛中唱着，

用一种我听不懂的语言。

也许他的记忆

通过旋律带他回到了故乡，

也许他正在穿越东欧的山脉和山谷。

也许那歌词讲述着

一个旧日的爱人。

也许他再次感受到

母亲的抚摸。

他与艺术无缘，

在伦敦的某个地方，

就在街角。

他不在乎路人投进的小零钱，

那顶小贝雷帽静静地躺在

肮脏的街道上，

在伦敦的某个地方，

就在街角。

他的灵魂正在给这首歌着色。

他只是在渴望着回家。

The Street Musician

Somewhere in London

on a summer rainy evening

at a street corner,

with eyes shut,

a middle-aged musician

was pressing the yellow keys

of the old accordion

that expanded and compressed like a bellow.

His voice full of passion

was singing in great pain

in a language I failed to understand.

Perhaps his memory

was taking him back to his village

through the melody,

perhaps he was travelling through mountains and valleys

in Eastern Europe.

Perhaps again the lyrics were referring

to an old sweetheart.

Perhaps he was feeling once again

his mother's caress.

He was patron to no art

somewhere in London,

at a street corner.

Little did he care for the small change of the passers by

in his little beret lying down

on the grimy road

somewhere in London,

at a street corner.

His soul was colouring the song.

He was just yearning for home.

太阳与大海：黎明

当你在黎明时分仰望天空，

你会看到一些柔和的色彩，

驱散了黑暗，

威仪地登上拉着太阳王的战车。

玫瑰色与绿色交融，

渐渐地，

它们的位置被天空的蓝色取代。

在这个充满彩虹色彩的万花筒中，

在遥远的天际线上，

有一个点闪烁着金色的光辉，

尖锐的光线如同长矛般穿透，

刺破白昼的光芒，

与那温暖与希望的黄色融为一体。

一道光线接着一道，

它们纠缠在一起，像闪亮的花环，

直到太阳王的身影，

圆如车轮盖，

赤裸地显现出来，

它迈着不急不缓的步伐，

仿佛是在进行一场游行，

在我国家丰盈、清澈的天空中登基。

SUN AND SEA: DAYBREAK

As you look at the sky at daybreak

you will see some pastel colours

driving away the darkness

and enthrone themselves regally on the charriot

that pulls the Sun King.

The rose colour mingles with green

and slowly

their place is taken by the sky’s blue.

And in this kaleidoskope

overflowing with the colours of the rainbow

somewhere in the distant skyline

a point shines in gold

and the spiky rays appear through

like spears

piercing the light of day

to mellow with the yellow

of warmth and hope.

One ray succeeds the next

and they tangle like a shining wreath

until the body of the King,

round like a hubcap

is unveiled naked,

and with unhurried footsteps,

as if in a procession,

it is enthroned in the abundant,

clear sky of my country.

（所有文字作品均获作者授权）