穆旦 Mu Dan

from HUNGRY CHINA  SPRING  Song of Wisdom  Autumn  After the Power Failure  Self 


from HUNGRY CHINA

	(2)
	
I see Hunger watching at every house door,
Or else, his contented brother, Crime.
Nowhere could we escape from the staring
Of his eyes, the eyes of our valuable education.

Gradually he is coming between us, my dear,
For good nature can never hold his steps.
Our every weakness is being tried, I am giad-
Till Fear transforms us into stones.

Far off, he looks like our unflinching Ideal,
And now he comes with a punitive long face,
To put forth a feature daily in the newspapers
Too searching, too painful, to keep our attention for long.

And presently, my dear, sinking the ground under us,
He is shaking our thin and wearied bodies,
As if pressing for a spark of fury or whirlwind
To break out floating helplessness.

	(5)

Cruelty is born out of our heart,
He calls down light, and he creates the world.
He is your wealth, he is my safety,
He is the female charm, and a good breeding.

While young he hid himself in our love,
And by our repeated weepings is he sought out.
Henceforth he becomes popular and current like a coin,
He has written history, and he is the great man today.

All our careers are merely his career,
And there in the heart of Success lies his shrine.
The lower he is kicked, the higher he rises:
He is charity, glory, high speeches, and the smiling face.

Althought nobody would reveal his name,
All our light is come out of his light;
And when we breathe daily in the smell of his dust,
Ah, the heart's shivers-- what life! what death!

 
饥饿的中国

    (2)

我看见饥饿在每一家门口,
或者他得意的兄弟,罪恶;
没有一处我们能够逃脱,他的
直瞪的眼睛;我们做人的教育,

渐渐他来到你我之间,爱,
善良从无法把他拒绝,
每一弱点都开始受考验,我也高兴,
直到恐惧把我们变成石头,

远远的,他原是我们不屈服的理想,
他来了却带着惩罚的面孔,
每天在报上讲一篇故事,
太深刻,太惊人,终于使我们漠不关心,

直到今天,爱,隔绝了一切,
他在摇撼我们疲弱的身体,
像是等待着有突然的火花突然的旋风
从我们的漂泊和孤独向外冲去。

    (5)

残酷从我们的心里走来,
它要有光,它创造了这个世界。
它是你的钱财,它是我的安全,
它是女人的美貌,文雅的教养。

从小它就藏在我们的爱情中,
我们屡次的哭泣才把它确定。
从此它像金币一样流通,
它写过历史,它是今日的伟人。

我们的事业全不过是它的事业,
在成功的中心已建立它的庙堂,
被踏得最低,它升起最高,
它是慈善,荣耀,动人的演说,和蔼的面孔。

虽然没有谁声张过它的名字,
我们一切的光亮都来自它的光亮;
当我们每天呼吸在它的微尘之中,
呵,那灵魂的颤抖——是死也是生!


SPRING

Green flame flickers across the grass,
Aches to embrace you, flower.
Struggling from soil,
Flowers stretch,
As warm breezes bring sorrow, or joy.
If you're awake, push open the window ,
See how lovely are the desires that fill the garden.

Under blue sky, bewitched by eternal mysteries,
Our bodies lie tightly-clasped, twenty years old,
Like ceramic birdsongs;
You are enflamed, curling again and again,
But unable to find a final destination.
O light, shade, sound, hue¡ªall are stripped naked,
Enduring pain, waiting to enter new combinations.


春

绿色的火焰在草上摇曳,
他渴求着拥抱你,花朵。
反抗着土地,花朵伸出来,
当暖风吹来烦恼,或者欢乐。
如果你是醒了,推开窗子,
看这满园的欲望多么美丽。

蓝天下,为永远的迷迷惑着的
是我们二十岁的紧闭的肉体,
一如那泥土做成的鸟的歌,
你们被点燃,却无处归依。
呵,光,影,声,色,都已经赤裸,
痛苦着,等待伸入新的组合。


Song of Wisdom

I have reached illusion's end
In this grove of falling leaves ,
Each leaf a signal of past joy ,
Drifting sere within my heart.

Some were loves of youthful days¡ª
Blazing meteors in a distant sky ,
Extinguished , vanished without trace ,
Or dropped before me , stiff and cold as ice .

Some were boisterous friendships ,
Fullblown blossoms , innocend of coming fall .
Society dammed the pulsing blood ,
Life cast molten passion in reality's shell .

Another joy , the spell of high ideals ,
Drew me through many a twisting mile of thorn .
To suffer for ideals is no pain ;
But oh ,to see them mocked and scorned !

Now nothing remains but remorse¡ª
Daily punishment for past pride .
When the glory of the sky stands condemned,
In this wasteland, what colour survive ?

There is one tree that stands alone intact ,
It thrives , I know , on my suffering's lifeblood .
Its greenshade mocks me ruthlessly !
O wisdom tree ! I curse your every growing bud .


智慧之歌

我已走到了幻想底尽头,
这是一片落叶飘零的树林,
每一片叶子标记着一种欢喜,
现在都枯黄地堆积在内心。

有一种欢喜是青春的爱情,
那时遥远天边的灿烂的流星,
有的不知去向,永远消逝了,
有的落在脚前,冰冷而僵硬。

另一种欢喜是喧腾的友谊,
茂盛的花不知道还有秋季,
社会的格局代替了血的沸腾,
生活的冷风把热情铸为实际。

另一种欢喜是迷人的理想,
他使我在荆棘之途走得够远,
为理想而痛苦并不可怕,
可怕的是看它终于成笑谈。

只有痛苦还在,它是日常生活
每天在惩罚自己过去的傲慢,
那绚烂的天空都受到谴责,
还有什么彩色留在这片荒原?

但唯有一棵智慧之树不凋,
我知道它以我的苦汁为营养,
它的碧绿是对我无情的嘲弄,
我咒诅它每一片叶的滋长。


Autumn

1

The sky presents an intense azure ,
Like a drunkard restored to his senses;
The streets are noisy as ever , bustling ,
But shrouded in the still cool of autumn .

Summer long the trees rioted ,
But now have fallen pensive , as if ruminating
Past fantasies , indignations , ambitions ;
They philosophize , cascading a carpet of yellow leaves .

The fields are immaculate ;
The land has cleared its debts ;
Grain is stored in granary , soil rests ;
Nature sighs , a cool refreshing breeze.

The shadows of Death have not yet begun to fall .
All is calm and bright , radiant and rich .
The floating clouds commune with the river ;
They too would share the joy of living .

2

You , who bend beneath the burden of so many years ,
Come rest beside this reedy pond .
Farther in the distance a grey mist
Silently conceals journey's end .

In this mansion built by the sun ,
Even your worries are a part of his works ;
Rest with him awhile , chat with the sun ;
He is now a kindly old man .

Once you could read his every passion and impulse
In the wild life and vibrant colours of the earth .
Now only the chirr of crickets remains ,
Memories of green days , smiles of sere leaves .

This is the tender farewell before his long journey .
Soon his words will be fading , withering .
Why clutch this armful of green shade ?
Why will you not let the leaves drift on the wind ?

3

First the struggle , dissolution of ice and snow ;
Then the birth-agony of spring drouht ;
Until , emerging from the awesome waves of summer rain,
This river flows at last into the tranquillity of autumn .

Like crops in the fields
That have drawn their nourishment from sunlight and soil ,
I too am ripening , after climbing slope upon slope ,
Having survived so many falls and perils .

In thundering , electrified skies , in forest flames ,
Leaves and birds and insects have grown ,
Have (like me) triumphed in life .
Together we constitute an autumn chorus .

Ah, just when babbling streams , dancing trees ,
Fragrant crops unfold within my mind ,
Stern winter transmits its ultimatum
In this tranquil , autumn haven .

秋

1

天空呈现着深邃的蔚蓝,
仿佛醉汉已恢复了理性;
大街还一样喧嚣,人来人往,
但被秋凉笼罩着一层肃静。

一整个夏季,树木多么紊乱!
现在却坠入沉思,像在总结
它过去的狂想,激愤,扩张,
于是宣讲哲理,飘一地黄叶。

田野的秩序变得井井有条,
土地把债务都已还请,
谷子进仓了,泥土休憩了,
自然舒了一口气,吹来了爽风。

死亡的阴影还没有降临,
一切安宁,色彩明媚而丰富;
流过的白云在与河水谈心,
它也要稍许享受生的幸福。

2

你肩负着多年的重载,
歇下来吧,在芦苇的水边:
远方是一片灰白的雾霭
静静掩盖着路程的终点。

处身在太阳建立的大厦,
连你的忧烦也是他的作品,
歇下来吧,傍近他闲谈,
如今他已是和煦的老人。

这大地的生命,缤纷的景色,
曾抒写过他的热情和狂暴,
而今只剩下凄清的虫鸣,
绿色的回忆,草黄的微笑。

这是他远行前柔情的告别,
然后他的语言就纷纷凋谢;
为何你却紧抱着满怀浓荫,
不让它随风飘落,一页又一页?

3

经过了溶解冰雪的斗争,
又经过了初生之苦的春旱,
这条河水渡过夏雨的惊涛,
终于流入了秋日的安恬;

攀登着一坡又一坡的我,
有如这田野上成熟的谷禾,
从阳光和泥土吸取着营养,
不知冒多少险受多少挫折;

在雷电的天空下,在火焰中,
这滋长的树叶,飞鸟,小虫,
和我一样取得了生的胜利,
从而组成秋天和谐的歌声。

呵,水波的喋喋,树影的舞弄,
和谷禾的香才在我心里扩散,
却见严冬已递来它的战术,
在这恬静的、秋日的港湾。


After the Power Failure

The sun was fine , but it was down .
I turned on the light and went on working as before ,
Thinking to have driven out the night ,
And offering private thanks to civilization .
Suddenly , darkness triumphed ,
And the good old world went out .
But I took courage and lit my small candle .
The room thus lit , I continued working ,
Without losing heart , but longing twice as much for the sun.

Next day , I awoke to brilliant daylight ,
Found my candle still standing on the desk .
I examined it : the wax was spent ,
And tears ran down on either side .
I knew then how many gusts of wind it had
Survived that one night .
Gratefully I put it aside ,
Paying silent tribute to this miniature graveyard .

停电之后

太阳最好,但是它下沉了,
拧开电灯,工作照常进行。
我们还以为从此驱走夜,
暗暗感谢我们的文明。
可是突然,黑暗击败一切,
美好的世界从此消失灭踪。
但我点起小小的蜡烛,
把我的室内又照得通明:
继续工作也毫不气馁,
只是对太阳加倍地憧憬。

次日睁开眼,白日更辉煌,
小小的烛台还摆在桌上。
我细看它,不但耗尽了油,
而且残留的泪挂在两旁:
这是我才想起,原来一夜间,
有许多阵风都要它抵挡。
于是我感激地把它拿开,
默念这可敬的小小坟场。


Self

Not knowing which world to call home ,
He chose an arbitrary tongue and creed ,
Pitched an improvised tent on sand .
Beneath the canopy of a little star ,
He began his heart's commerce with things :
was that the real me ?

By chance on his long trek he encountered an idol ,
Assumed the semblanceof a worshipper ,
Calling these men friends , those men enemies ,
Deploying emotions in their appropriate places .
The little shop of his life throve :
was that the real me ?

After a spell of prosperity he went broke ,
As if he had toppled his own dynasty .
The world cold-shouldered him , ridiculed him , punished him ,
And yet all he had lost was his crown .
Lying awake at night he brooded :
was that the real me ?

Meanwhile another world was posting bills for a missing person .
His disappearance surprised the vacant room
Where another dream was waiting for him to dream ,
And numerous rumours were ready to give him a shape
Hinting at an unwritten biography :
was that the real me ?


自己

不知哪个世界才是他的家乡,
他选择了这种语言,这种宗教,
他在沙上搭起一个临时的帐篷,
于是受着头上一颗小星的笼罩,
他开始和事物作着感情的交易:
  不知那是否确是我自己。

在征途上他偶尔碰见一个偶像,
于是变成它的膜拜者的模样,
把这些称为友,把那些称为敌,
喜怒哀乐都摆到了应摆的地方,
他的生活的小店辉煌而富丽:
  不知那是否确是我自己。

昌盛了一个时期,他就破了产,
仿佛一个王朝被自己的手推翻,
事物冷淡他,嘲笑他,惩罚他,
但他失掉的不过是一个王冠,
午夜不眠时他确曾感到忧郁:
  不知那是否确是我自己。

另一个世界招贴着寻人启事,
他的失踪引起了空室的惊讶,
那里另有一场梦等他去睡眠,
还有多少谣言都等着制造他,
这都暗示一本未写成的传记:
      不知那是否确是我自己。


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