11月30日下午，诗人北岛、路易丝·杜普蕾、弗罗斯特·甘德、马图拉、塞尔吉奥·莱蒙迪、四元康祐、朱文、黄梵、毛焰、杨键、朱赢椿，特邀嘉宾主持黄荭，音乐人荷马先生、李一，来到先锋，共享一场冬日里的诗歌盛宴。我们将每一位诗人的朗诵内容整理出来，对照多语种的译文。当我们再次朗诵这些诗歌，我们又回到了那个理性与感性交融的午后，又再次站在了诗人的面前。publié à Montréal, éditions du Noro?t, 2016et Paris, éditions Bruno Doucey, 2018Tu ne te rappelles pas quand le poème s'est tourné contre toi, t'a secouée comme un édredon trop habitué au sommeil, t'a forcée à ne plus te mentir. Tu t'es mise à psalmodier des airs invisibles à ton oreille, des airs scellés dans les replis de l'enfance. Ils t'attendaient dans la patience du jour prêt à se lever, ils t'attendaient, vieilles chairs encore attachées à tes os comme une foi sortie tout droit de la boue. Musique de la rue, musique de la lumière voletant dans les feuillages, musique verdoyante de toutes les musiques qui, un instant, a recouvert la plainte de la terre. Tu as vu se découper devant tes yeux l'ombre de la beauté. Toi qui ne reconnaissais que ta dette envers la douleur, tu as soudain reconnu ta dette envers la joie.你已不记得何时这首诗对你倒戈，像一张伴眠已久的被子那样把你摇晃出去，逼迫你无法再撒谎。你开始为自己的耳朵吟唱未见的微风，风被童年层层包裹。它们以一日破晓之耐心守候着你，它们守候着你，陈旧的肉体仍与骨头相连，仿佛信念一下子跳出泥潭。路边音乐，光之乐章在叶间婆娑，是所有声讨地球音乐中的绿色音乐。你眼前看到美的阴影。你意识到自己对幸福有所亏欠，你也意识到自己对痛苦有所亏欠。Il est temps de couper les fils entre tes doigts, d'attirer dans ton jardin les chats errants, temps de cueillir les pissenlits que tu mangeras bient?t par la racine, temps d'accorder grace à l'effroi. Tu es encore humaine, tu aimes encore ce que tu hais, tu crois à ce que tu ne crois plus, les fant?mes bienveillants de minuit et la prière, même souillée comme une robe de viol. La solitude acceptée, la solitude rompue *. Tu n'as pas épuisé tes neuf vies, ni les étoiles qui naissent dans tes yeux hagards, ni le futur des verbes simples. Tu trouveras l'audace de te coucher comme une neige nue sur les oripeaux en flammes, pure patience contre force et rage, levée contre, dressée contre, blanche de peur et d'espoir. Tu occuperas le champ de la honte.* L'expression provient d'Anne Hébert.现在应该把你指间的丝线一一剪断，把流浪猫引进你的花园，在你奔赴黄泉之前收集花圈。你还是人类，你仍会爱你所恨，相信不再信的，仁慈的午夜幽灵和祈祷，即使像被强暴者衣裙那样被玷污。孤独在手，“孤独终碎”。1你还没用掉自己的九条命，你疲惫双眼中也无群星诞生，更无简单词句的未来。你会找到勇气躺下如落向燃烧脏布的裸雪，面对暴力狂怒的纯粹耐心，抗争成长，反驳教养，在希望和恐惧中变得惨白。你将掌控羞耻之地。 中文翻译：黄峪When the gate guard sinks into sleep You turn back together with the storm That which ages in the embrace is When the birds’ routes demarcate the skyYou look backward at the sunset That which appears in the disappearance isWhen the sword is bent in the water You tread the flute melody across the bridge That which cries aloud in the conspiracy isWhen the pen draws a line of horizon You’re startled awake by the oriental gongThat which blooms in the reverberation is It is always this moment in the mirrorThis moment leads toward the gate of rebirthAnd the gate opens toward seasAroused by her inaccessibility, he aches for moreof her life to live inside him. Watchingthe waves, standing so close he can feelheat coming off her wet scalp. What ishis relationship to this personbefore him, so familiar and foreign? The wayhe searches out her face, he searches out himself. Guststhrash crests of waves, spring grasses twirl circlesin the sand where they stand without speaking. Shewants him to know it’s all charged, even grasspositive, pollen negative, so when the grass waves,it sweeps the air for pollen. He feels electricity all aroundas though the wild drama of the coming storm were alreadyaware of them, the foreigners on this shore. Littlesapphire-blue flowers speckle the dunes.He wonders if he has let himself flatten outinto a depthless sheet, like escalator stairs, whether inhe’ll disappear underground without the smallest lurchof resistance. But when her lavish face turns toward himunconcealed, beaming, the corners of her eyes wind-wet,he yields to that excess, he reappears to himself.Thin brushes rustling on a canvas, listen:this town bears your name, again and againyou’ll hear it uttered at the gate of Rotterdamor by the narrow backstreets, the Cathedral,age-old facades washed clean by a nearconstant drizzle, till grey houses glimmerlike silver. Canals fill with even more water –it was here that you painted and here you believed,it was here that you loved, and then hated,and still believed: everything comes across its opposite,water in the sky and sky on the water,till the past is nothing but a camera obscuraseen through the keyhole of modernity.Brushes and restraint. Paints freshly stirred.This knowledge that all great talentswill one day turn into someone else’s income.It keeps raining , the slow rain seeping inas if to wash off all the paint, layer by layer,and see beneath it, returnto the beginning where there were nobrushstrokes, nor even a thought about them.The serenity of people’s daily toil. Rain,someone stopping, a figure on the bridge.It keeps raining. Nieuwe Kerk.Everything that has been,or if it is, it will not beAfter a thousand years of settlingto tell us we are secrets,yet the pages stick togetherlike the yearly rings of a tree,the racing wheel of time,remains an unwritten book,書頁都黏在一起, 我們看著書頁 卻讀不進里面; 我們需要一套 關於失傳的美、 死亡的可怖面容、以及時間之輪的律法, 而美仍是一部未及寫成的書, 恰似人生。Translated By Gerry Loose and Yi HaiYour eyes are like light bulbs, so why don’t they light up?Your eyes are like buds, so why don’t they open?Could it be that you’re like us, always wearing a mask?You have so many bones, so why does the very last one choke us?I’m safeguarding the plate you’re on, but I know that’s false sympathy.You give off a delicious aroma that comes from your bloody death.Your life is full of stories; when they’re in my mouth can I still tell them?You have a life of broad vision, but can I take it over with my tongue?Thinking you were sentient, that you may even have been a prophet among fish, and in a flashcomes the realisation: I’m a crook who understands your last words.会讥讽，繁体还穿着旗袍、蹬着三寸金莲、戴着民国的假睫毛繁体相信，排队的耐心能造一把好斧子，能写一本好哲学The Complex and the SimplifiedBy Huang Fan Translated By Josh.stenbergThe complex is better suited to the return home, the simplified is better suited to forgetfulnessThe complex is better for burying our ancestors, the simplified has already been buried in feastingThe complex is like the rivers and the hills, gathering in even the minutest bit of dust.The simplified is like a schoolbag, which won’t take anything but textbooks inThe complex flaps its countless wings, but doesn’t make the slightest soundThe simplified is like an unleashed horse, caring only to gallop across the furious plainWhile the complex helps all the slow nouns and adjectives alongthe simplified only cares to build a high-speed railway for verbsThe simplified would say that the complex is like the moribund epigraphy of steles,would satirise the complex as being still dressed in its red mandarin gown, with its three-inch lotus feet, and pre-revolutionary fake eyelasheswould call the calmness, the subtlety of the complex—inexpressivitywould call the freckles on its own face—beauty spotsand while the complex leads the conversation to the upper bodythe simplified’s imagination is caught below the belt, and can’t be unstuck. When things are busy, the simplified is like fog, it never stands in line.The complex believes that the patience of standing in line may sharpen a hardy axe, may inspire a wise philosophyHow many twigs and branches has the simplified hacked off, how many wounds has it left behindWith each extra hook of the complex’s brush, another road opens tothe last world and the coming world, not like the simplified, which can only endow itself upon the present oneSee, simplified has already unloaded the heaviest burden on the complex, fear has been abandoned by happinessBut the simplified doesn’t know that the complex’s body is rusted, is made of shining scales tooThe loneliness of the complex is a touching song as wellAnd when I, stuck between complex and simplified,I am like the last person who still knows all about it, bearing day and night this secret, heavy burden.El poeta menor ante el nacimiento de su hijoLuego de hallar,tras dias de busqueda,el lapizen la cabina del camioncito de los bomberos,y de comprobar la independencia de juicodel heredero,que rompe las paginas predilectase intactas deja las indiferentes,el poeta menordecide dialogar con su mujer sobre un tema clave:la organizacion especial y temporal de su labor,en la casa,luego del nacimiento del hijo.A lo largo de la conversacion se tocan varios temas:compra de comestibles y articulos de limpieza,pago de impuestos,turnos para el cuidado,diversion,alimentacion e hygiene del nino,ausencia de cuidado,diversion,alimentacione hygiene de la pareja,necesidad de registrarsus primeros pasos,frecuencia de uso del-vulgarmente denominado-chupete,amables formas de imponer distancia a los abuelos.Cuando una mutua mudez evidencia el final,el poeta menor comprueba que su inquietudha sido desplazada en vista de otras urgencias.Esa noche,como un inspirado romanticoque aprovechase el silencio de los mortalspara dejar fluir el caracter alado de sus versos,canta durante horas una cancion de cuna.Porque por supuesto aun la misma fluidez del pez en el aguaa ver,mas especificamente:ese vertice agudo y extendidode la merluza de cola magallanica util para moverse en ordenmultiple a cien dos tres cuatrocientos metros de profundidadvuelta otra vez a las capas altas del Atlantico y Pacifico surha de terminar compactada solidificada congelada embaladapara asumr asi la forma vigente de la produccion industrialparalelogramo premium de siete kilos y medio de filet de hokimedida estandarizada y universal de la lengua y las maquinascomercio y transprte a traves de parelelogramos semejantesangulos sin imperfecciones y una superficie alisada de vacioexacta para diluir los movimientos de la mano que envisceraextrae el epitelio y se diapone ya a realizar el despinado finoa bordo de un arrastrero cuya bandera no importa demasiado.“大家好！我是四元康祐。我朗诵的诗叫“我出门啦”。比如说你去上学或者工作之前就会跟爸妈说“我出门啦”，然后你爸妈会说的就是“早点回来”“中午早点回家”等等。我在写这首诗的时候是5岁，比那位小男孩还要再小一点。那么现在呢，我的儿子已经13岁了，他现在已经这么高了。”而这个现在成为无可挽回的过去的未来正是儿子们的现在My son who left for the kindergarten in the morning came home at night as a 35-year-old man.Yeah , looking up at the cuckoo clock with affection , he replied in a man’s thick voice.What have you been doing till so late , asked my wife.Well , he showed that smile of his , and told said thatHe’s been married for three years , working as a space engineer , summarizing his life in the same way as I once did myself.Hey , isn’t he already quite grey haired!I found it odd to having get my sake cup filled by my son who was the same age as I , and murmured “thanks , that’s fine”.My wife stared at us , comparing my face to his , his to mine , when as he started to tell us about the planet in 30 years , which knocked us both which horror and surprise.How have you survived in such a terrible world!Environmental disaster , population explosion , nuclear weapons , racialism racism and terrorism.Sure , I can see the seeds of the problems right here and now , and this here and now has somehow turned into the irrevocable past for my son and his family in the future , confusing as it may be , it is the only thing clear is that they got ended up with the worst-case scenario.Say , what if Mom and I try to change all those things from now on?I’m not sure , Dad , once it’s done it’s done.My wife held him on the sleeve and begged him to stay home in an oddly theatrical manner.I see his point , it would go against providence.yet my son utters not a single word of reproach.Could it be because I am already gone from his world?I am mildly curious about it,but it really does not matter one way or the other.“Don’t worry about us . If we are lucky , we can win the lottery for the lunar immigration.”With his one hand on the small of his back ,he shook my hands with the other , kissed my wife on the cheek like a western foreigner.Midnight darkness falling behind him ,he said , I’m leaving , in a 5-year-old’s voice.Faisant signe vers le rienoui dans le fleuve du tempssur un mur pour toi j’écris朱赢椿为大家带来了非常特别的一首诗，一首虫子诗。是他的“邻居”在他的菜地里，啃咬菜叶时留下的“文字”。他把这些“文字”收集起来，组成了这首虫子诗。有一位小朋友在看了这些虫子的文字后，“翻译”除了这首虫子诗的内容——香港国际诗歌之夜基金会的秘书长王淩也上台朗诵了英文版的虫子诗。
音乐人荷马先生也在朗诵会上为我们带来了他的新歌。
诗人孙冬、王也，以及现场几位读者也分别上台朗诵了诗歌。朗诵环节结束后，所有嘉宾上台合影，纪念这个诗歌的名义相聚的时刻。我们为所有的嘉宾和读者准备了一份惊喜——用风干的玫瑰花和古老的时钟布置了精美的红酒桌，寓意“时间的玫瑰”，向香港国际诗歌之夜致敬，向所有来到先锋的诗人致敬，向诗歌致敬。“时间的玫瑰”主题酒桌
百感交集之中，香港国际诗歌之夜南京站在先锋书店落下帷幕。我们举杯欢庆香港国际诗歌之夜的十周年，温馨而浪漫，诗歌流淌在每一位诗人与读者之间。时间的玫瑰在此刻绽放，最初的话语在此刻永恒。
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