Poem
Bei Dao
Colleagues
This book is so heavy, like an anchorSinking onto resurrectionary interpretations
Your face, like the clock on the other shore of the ocean
Is unable to be spoken to
Words have been floating on seas all night
And in the morning suddenly fly high
Laughter falls into an empty bowl
The sun revolves on the butcher’s hook
The first bus of the day drives toward
The post office on the end of the fields
O, in the green variations
Sits the king of departure
Lightning, the postman of storms
Is lost beyond the flowering days
I trail you as close as the shadow to the body
From the classroom to the playground
Under the rapidly growing poplars
We get small, one going east, another west
© Translation: 2009, Tao Naikan and Simon Patton
VAKGENOTEN
dit boek is zwaar, als een ankerzinkt het weg in uitleg van overlevenden
je gezicht is een klok aan gene zijde van de oceaan
het is onmogelijk te praten
woorden drijven ’s nachts op zee
om ’s ochtends op te vliegen
gelach valt in een lege kom
de zon tolt aan een slagershaak
de eerste bus gaat op weg naar
het postkantoor aan het eind van de velden
o in die variaties op groen
de koning van het afscheid
weerlicht, boodschapper van storm
verdwaalt buiten de bloeiende dagen
ik volg je als je schaduw
van klaslokaal naar sportveld
onder woest groeiende populieren
worden we klein rennen weg van elkaar
© Vertaling: 2009, Maghiel van Crevel
同行
这书很重 ,像锚
沉向生还者的阐释中
你的脸像大洋彼岸的钟
不可能交谈
词整夜在海上漂浮
早上突然起飞
笑声落进空碗里
太阳在肉铺铁勾上转动
头班公共汽车开往
田野尽头的邮局
哦那绿色变奏中的
离别之王
闪电,风暴的邮差
迷失在开花的日子以外
我形影不离紧跟你
从教室走向操场
在迅猛生长的杨树下
变小 ,各奔东西
这书很重 ,像锚
沉向生还者的阐释中
你的脸像大洋彼岸的钟
不可能交谈
词整夜在海上漂浮
早上突然起飞
笑声落进空碗里
太阳在肉铺铁勾上转动
头班公共汽车开往
田野尽头的邮局
哦那绿色变奏中的
离别之王
闪电,风暴的邮差
迷失在开花的日子以外
我形影不离紧跟你
从教室走向操场
在迅猛生长的杨树下
变小 ,各奔东西
© 2008, Bei Dao
From: Jieju huo kaishi
Publisher: Changjiang, Wuhan, China
From: Jieju huo kaishi
Publisher: Changjiang, Wuhan, China
Poems
Poems of Bei Dao
Close
Colleagues
This book is so heavy, like an anchorSinking onto resurrectionary interpretations
Your face, like the clock on the other shore of the ocean
Is unable to be spoken to
Words have been floating on seas all night
And in the morning suddenly fly high
Laughter falls into an empty bowl
The sun revolves on the butcher’s hook
The first bus of the day drives toward
The post office on the end of the fields
O, in the green variations
Sits the king of departure
Lightning, the postman of storms
Is lost beyond the flowering days
I trail you as close as the shadow to the body
From the classroom to the playground
Under the rapidly growing poplars
We get small, one going east, another west
© 2009, Tao Naikan and Simon Patton
From: Jieju huo kaishi
From: Jieju huo kaishi
Colleagues
This book is so heavy, like an anchorSinking onto resurrectionary interpretations
Your face, like the clock on the other shore of the ocean
Is unable to be spoken to
Words have been floating on seas all night
And in the morning suddenly fly high
Laughter falls into an empty bowl
The sun revolves on the butcher’s hook
The first bus of the day drives toward
The post office on the end of the fields
O, in the green variations
Sits the king of departure
Lightning, the postman of storms
Is lost beyond the flowering days
I trail you as close as the shadow to the body
From the classroom to the playground
Under the rapidly growing poplars
We get small, one going east, another west
© 2009, Tao Naikan and Simon Patton
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