the original poem is writen in Chinese by
Huangqian, translated by me
In a city piled with blocks of ice
people wearing headscarves are wriggling through a crack.
Blue is tonight's tone. Yellow is an apricot drink.
God is looking down at the world with his huge eyes in bitterness. Dressed as nightingales
the prostitutes are flying over to the 4th Ring Road.
At the 3rd chapter of the script, a finger
touched the dream. In your valley, you,
the singer from whose voice flows out golden sands, turn the rocks
soft with your songs. You, who speak for the angel,
are as light as the wind.
It was in a small pub, Midnight shook out coldness from its cloak
spicy and bitter coldness. Your feet were wringing each other
on the rug. The light was dark, and silence was plucked out
in a half note from your guitar. You were sitting like an apprentice.
You were living in obscurity, the open field being your home.
In the city filled with hard ice, the blue and yellow
heavy symphony was dropped upon the tiger's tail.
It has been snowing since August.
People checked their wounds in dark, then
they started burning trivial things by the city's gate.
"Since the singer has left", the women cried
"swallows, swallows, there have been tears no more."
The wives are walking fast on the 4th Ring Road. The grey moon
is tonight's dry apricot. Snap!--the script is torn apart here,
an unnamed finger dangling in the mid air.
A big city without purpose was hanging in the tree back
and forth. The gambling started, and a puff of cigarette was taken. You,
who speak for the angel, thought of something in secret and
reached out your palm to press upon a poorly made wine glass.
"Cough harder than a dog!"-- sitting opposite was Ovid.
变形记
作者：
黄茜
堆积冰块的城市，
包头巾的人在狭缝间蠕动。
蓝是夜晚的主调。黄色是杏仁酒。
神灵的巨眼苦涩地看向人间。妓女们
装扮成夜莺飞临四环路。
手指在手稿第三章
碰到了梦。你所在的山谷，你，
嗓音里流泻金色沙粒的歌手。岩石
面向歌声变得柔软。你，代表天使说话的人，
在风里和风一样轻。
小酒馆，午夜的风衣抖出
油辣辛酸的冷。双脚在地毯上
不安地扭打。灯有些暗，吉它总有半个音弹入
寂静。你端坐如学徒，你混迹
而行于旷野。
盛满坚冰的城市，蓝色和黄色的
重型交响乐，一顿身压住了猛虎的尾巴。
从八月起，没有停止过降雪。
人们在幽暗处检视伤口，把一堆杂碎
放在城门口焚烧。
“自那弹唱的人儿离开后，”她们尖叫，
“燕子、燕子，再也没有泪水。”
四环路妻子满城疾走。铅灰的月亮是今晚的
干杏仁。手稿在此处断裂，
无名的手指悬在半空。
没有目的的大城，挂在树上
摇晃。刚开了赌局，猛吸一口烟。你，
代表天使说话的人，秘密地想起什么。
伸掌按住劣质玻璃酒杯，
“咳嗽比狗还厉害！”——对面，是奥维德。
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