大盘鸡

吃完大盘鸡，我老婆突然对我说：“快，把我举到头上。”

我说：“Are you chicking me？”

我老婆：“快，这是你的最后机会。再晚就来不及了。熬扫！”

我一把抓过她的腰，像翻一袋装着马铃薯的麻袋一样，把她举过头顶。“好了，快讲为什么？”

“唧唧复唧唧。”我老婆回答道，一只脚站在我的手上，展开双臂，摆出了一副要冲破天花板的飞天姿势。

“No chicking！我脚下的地板快塌了！”我大叫道。

“爸爸，你要挺住。”我女儿手里抓着一只啃了一半的鸡爪，说：“你再坚持100分钟，我就把鸡爪奖励给你。”

“You son of a chick。快叫你妈下来。否则我给你暑假报100个补习班。”

我女儿扔掉手里的鸡爪，一把掰住我的肩膀，蹭蹭爬到我的头上，单脚站在了我的另一只手上。她弯下腰，凑到我耳边喊道：“你去报呀，报呀，you son of a chick！”

我松开了屏住呼吸的肚子，脚底一沉，一声轰隆的巨响，远方落日的最后一道光照在我额头突出的静脉上，宛若血光的诗意。“听着，我没有给你俩上保险。”我托着头顶的娘俩沉入了楼下。

A Tribute to L. Cohen

Now Mom takes your hand 
and she leads you to the grassland 
She is wearing a hat and sneakers 
from teenie-weenie her favourite 
And the sun pours down like honey 
on our lady who loves winnie the pooh
And she shows you where to look 
among the garbage and the flowers 
There are kites in the sky
and daisies having grown since July
There are children in the morning 
They are running out for life 
and they will run that way forever 
While Mom holds the thread
and you want to fly away from her 
and you want to travel blind 
You know that you can trust her 
for she's touched your perfect body with her milk and blood

   by  Imyorphan Zen

Morning Hysteria

when I shouted to her
as a desperate father:
DON'T TOUCH IT!
My daughter pounted her lips
and burst into tears--
tears like falling raindrops,

My exploding voice scared her
fingers out of the little rosy plastic potty
she was sitting on and shitting

I dashed into the kitchen
and grabbed her hand
it was late--
her finger tips had already got it

Be your dady's good girl
Don't play with your poo
It's dirty and gross, my wife said
trying to talk sense
to her while preparing breakfast

I felt as if I had wronged her
as she was sobbing in her shaky body
she was only 11-month old
too young to tell
poo from toy

I shouldn't have shouted. I said
in an eased voice, and then
cleaned her and washed her hands
I gave the potty a glimpse--
her poo was innocent and healthy

I couldn't ask for more
after days of her indigestion

Scarborough Fair

The original Chinese is written by Scavenger, which can be read HERE. I don't think my translation does justice to his delicate and beautiful description of the sad story. I just couldn't help translating it into Engilsh.


Before I broke into pieces, I was in love with a girl.
I won't say silly words like each girl is different in her own sweet way,
for I had never known any other girl before her.
or rather, had never GENUINELY known any.
We have discussed this many times.
Even now, I can still feel in her young heart, deep down,
that my self is still there.
Her heart is warm.
Apart from that, I can't tell you more.

When dusk was falling, that girl would cook a wok of tasty Russian soup.
To do that, she would rise early in the morning and
climb over the mountains and valleys all the way to Scarborough Fair.
Her shoes and socks were soaked in dew
must have been uncomfortable, wasn't it?
But she still carried a delicate smile on her face and walked through the fair
picked out the suitable ingredients, whose names I couldn't tell,
nor their distinctive colours and scents.
But I stood by her quietly afterwards, listening to the things
she described to me one by one and that--
that black little cat hiding in the shop.
She asked me, with pushiness, to find
that kind of black little cat for her.

I pulled at her hair, and said "Don't worry."
Then I started on my cause to look for the cat she wanted.
I had no idea that I could have walked for so long.
News came from the other side that she dropped many tears
into the soup that had already become cold.
She sewed winter clothes in the hope of my return
but the needle pricked her fingers.
I also heard that they burried us in the mountain of Scarborough
because when we were in love we had dated
at the mountain foot in the early morning.
We quickly walked up to the top.
Her face was redened and she gasped
as she pinned a little flower onto my collar.

You probably don't know that we still meet in the morning
only we are never able to come down the mountain together
I have a messy memory but I remember in my descent
I've seen numerous cats, cats of all colours and ages
but never did I find a black little cat.

Trickitty Tracy

*A Poem for Jiang Xiaomao (Tracy)

I saw that cat sitting on the wall every morning
while I was carrying the crazy stone on my way to work

I broke down one day and threw it off my shoulder
I said hi to the cat and she greeted me with a Chesire grin

A trick? I thought, gaping
at the empty space which had been filled by a cat

"No, Trickitty"
A small voice broke into my ear

A trick-kitty?
Like an appiration, she was sitting on my right shoulder

"I'm Schrodinger's cat with ever-changing appearances
and an ever-lasting spirit"

What's your name? I asked
with my head turning to the right

But there was nothing, not even
a cat paw's mark left

A trickitty? I murmured
wondering whether it was me who'd been tricked

"No, Tracy" A small voice rose again
and climbed into my left ear

Tracy Cat? I turned my head to the left
trying to catch the source of the voice

A furry tail flashed in front of my eyes
before I could follow its trace

There she was, on the wall again stretching her legs and
arching her back as all cats do after a sweet nap

She squinted at me against the sun and
with a "Meow" she jumped off the wall

I looked down at the heavy stone, not knowing how to continue
the ever-lasting routine with an ever-changing heart

这颗星球上最高的男子

“你听听这个人的歌，应该会喜欢。”柏桑说，“叫地球上最高的男人（the tallest man on earth）,其实个子可小了，真的是个小个子，又瘦又小。”柏桑像捏着一粒芝麻那样并住两根手指，好像那人就捏在指间。
“哪个国家的？”我问。
“瑞典的。所以这名字取得很有意思吧。歌写得也有意思。”
不久柏桑去了Green Man艺术节，见到了这个“地球上最高的男人”，回来后又兴奋地提到了他。

那差不多是一年前的事了。去年9月离开英国的时候，我带着着行囊在开往机场的大巴里听着他的歌，听着他唱到“I plan to be forgotten when I'm gone. Yes, I'll be leaving in the fall.”立马就神伤了。你看， 好歌的出现总是需要天时、地利、人别。

还是一把吉他，加上出色的歌词。只靠这两样东西立足的人一般都活得很艰辛，Nick Drake, Leonard Cohen, Damien Rice，英国人不到30便抑郁而死；加拿大人命硬，但也直到74岁才被晚生Lou Reed引入摇滚名人堂，致辞时老头子仍不忘翻出陈年往事揶揄在场的美国乐评人John Landau；爱尔兰人也是在退出了唱片公司、怀着一颗破釜沉舟大不了在意大利做农民的心才大器晚成的。如果Bob Dylan不是身处那个越战、嬉皮士、民权运动风起云涌的年代，凭他的嗓音条件要成名还真不好说。高中刚脱离后街男孩、西城男孩、辣妹组合的那个阶段，我读到了那时流行的音乐杂志上介绍Bob Dylan的文章，心潮澎湃，于是跑到镇上唯一一个能买到40岁以上西方男歌手的CD店，找到了一张Dylan的大拼盘碟（当时盗版的惯常做法，即把一名歌手的歌曲尽可能多得塞到一张碟里）。回家后我怀着景仰、敬畏、期待的复杂心情，按下了CD机的播放键。一分钟后，我在一种听完恐怖故事的氛围里按下了停止键，并惊魂未定地告诉自己“他的嗓音不可能这样的，一定是盗版碟的原因。”直到进了大学再次听到Dylan，终于确信那个来回颠簸、四处漏风的声音就是他的真声。所以说，破嗓音的成名总是需要天时、地利以及John Baez.

这名“地球上最高的男子”叫Kristian Matsson，嗓音倒也没有Bob Dylan那样不堪，但是想从他的歌声里获得些愉悦也不容易。吸引我的，无非是漂亮的吉他和弦和别致的歌词（几首歌里还能听到他弹奏的banjo）。不知道为什么要给自己起这么个艺名，不过在Gardener这首歌里，他倒是唱了为什么要做“最高男”的原因——为了女人。这是一首很邪恶的歌，因为欢快的曲调之下歌唱者以第一人称讲述了一桩连环杀人案，叙述的场景丝毫不带血腥，相反让我们看到了阳光，闻到了花香、听到了爱情密语——但美丽的花圃之下却埋着三具尸体，凶手骗取了女主人公的芳心，并以一个胜利者的姿态向我们讲了这个故事。是不是很邪恶？

歌词将这个故事处理得很好，首段不露声色地出场、抱怨了一下自己变坏的头脑后，“凶手”以相同的结构讲述了三件命案的起因、结果和动机，很像三张同主题邮票并成的小型张。最后的结尾宣告了黑暗势力的胜利：死神出场，但没有黑斗篷、冷风、枯叶这些肃杀的意象，而代之以簇拥的鲜花和安宁的情绪，这样将恶与美放一起制造的诡吊效果在《香水：一个谋杀犯的故事》里有精彩的呈现；“不会再有青蛙吻你的手了”——坏蛋以这样自信的胜利口吻宣告，童话被终结。很邪恶，不是吗？

翻译歌词是一件吃力不讨好的事情，因为歌词本身的歌唱性（音节、韵脚都踩着音符走）几乎是不可译的。所幸这首歌的故事性比较强，换做Dylan的歌，虽然叙事性强，但光是对称的结构和连串尾韵一致的单词就让人断了翻译的念头。再说，干嘛要翻译歌呢？好歌就要听原文歌词。以后我再也不翻译歌了，下不为例。




园丁（Gardener）

我察觉到有人在花园里奔跑
不过你也知道，我的判断正在衰老
我曾在草坪上造过一艘蒸汽船
但我已忘了如何驾驶

我知道那个人会跑去告诉你
我的头发里并没有住着牛仔
因此他被埋在了雏菊旁
这样我可以继续是你眼中最高的人，宝贝

我察觉到有个探子伏在烟囱上
根据我烧掉的证据
我猜他会在烟雾里将毁证宣读
那样我就很快会化为灰烬

我知道那个探子会告诉你
旗杆上挂着的并非我的旗帜
因此他被埋在了水仙花旁
这样我就可以永永远远留在你的眼中，宝贝

我觉察到我的电话里有了漏隙
过去撒谎的经验告诉我
他已得到了你的私人号码
他很快会给你打一个恶毒的电话

我知道那个漏隙会告诉你
你的绳索并没有系着狗崽
因此，他成了滋养玫瑰的肥料
而我可以继续做你眼里的国王，宝贝

现在我俩在花园里跳舞
看啊，这花园多么美丽
死神养护着我的茉莉花
我得说我感到了内心的安宁

再也没必要疑神疑鬼
不会有什么青蛙吻你的手
而我要对你说的下面这话也不再是谎言：
我是个园丁，我就是你眼中的
男人，我的宝贝

the story is so meaningless and I don't know why I translated it

The following article and poem are translated by me, and edited by Robert Berold, from the original Chinese written by Wuqing (乌青, meaning Bruise, pseudonym of Zheng Gongyu), who quited college in his second year and led a normadic life since then. Wuqing published his own books and sells them online. He also made short films, which I haven't seen.


Smash slate on chest

It was a hot and stuffy afternoon, and I was feeling in low spirits. Even a cigarette wouldn't have made me feel good. So I walked over to the cold drink shop at the gate of our compound and bought a cup of cucumber juice. I wandered through the neighbourhood as I drank it. A girl was pushing her bike along in front of me. She had a nice ass. So I followed her for a while. I kept walking between the apartment blocks. Water was oozing out of the air conditioners. I spat and my spit was cucumber-green.

I felt bored and restless.  Then suddenly I was overcome by this strange desire.  I wished I had a board with nails on it. I wanted to lie on it, and then have a heavy piece of slate laid on my chest, so heavy that I wouldn't be able to breathe. Then a person with a hammer would come along and hit it onto me. Think of that! Wouldn't that be fun!

When something comes up, act on it – that’s what I believe. There was an old woman who collected garbage where I lived. I could get anything from her. So I said to her, I need a wooden board studded with nails, a heavy slab of slate and a huge hammer. But she couldn't understand Chinese. So I explained to her with gestures. I said, wooden board, board with nails, full of nails coming out of it; slate, big big piece of rock, and very heavy; hammer, huge hammer, to hit the rock.

Nothing would lift my spirits that night. So I went back to the cold drink shop and ordered another cucumber juice. I walked out of our compound as I drank it. I decided to fritter away the time in the supermarket nearby. There was a woman on the slow escalater. Her legs were huge. I came up with a kind of desire.
‘When something comes up, act on it’. So I walked up to her and said, Your legs are fat. She responded, It's none of your business! I had said the one thing I wanted to say, so I went away without a word.

I walked to the section selling sanitary pads, and my mind got carried away while I was standing there.  It's not that I was watching the stuff on the shelves, it’s just that I wanted to let my mind drift. After a while I noticed that a woman next to me was staring at me. Without saying anything, It forced a kiss on her for about 10 seconds. Then I spat out a gum and gave it back to her. It's yours, I said.

Back to my living area, I saw a stray cat. I wanted to catch it. ‘When something comes up, act on it’. So I dashed towards it, but it sprinted away without a trace. I shouted out loudly to the old woman, Where is my board with nails,  and the slate and the hammer?


*“想到了就要做”原本译成do it when something comes up，改成when something comes up, act on it之后，要切合得多。

Crying

I think crying is useless
mom cried
grandma cried, too
even papa's and grandpa's crying
didn't solve anything

when they were crying
they put everything aside
tears
blocked the whole world
not even God could stop them
from crying