臧棣与美国诗人安敏轩互译
Nicholas Admussen is an Assistant Professor of Chinese at Widener University in Chester, PA. His translations have appeared in Renditions and Cha Magazine; his original poetry has appeared in the Boston Review, Fence, the Kenyon Review, etc. He has a chapbook of poems Movie Plots from Epiphany Editions in New York.
安敏轩，普林斯顿大学汉学博士，执教于美国宾州，小诗册《影片情节》2011年在纽约出版。
三首与电影情节有关的诗
谋杀解密
住在威彻斯特殖民式老区，房子带日光浴室和双车库，这母亲有两个孩子，结婚13年；那只性情温驯的、毛发浓密的德国牧羊犬，孩子们管它叫米奇，她一直盯看 着它在后院扑倒并飞快地扒开一只受伤的八哥内脏。她意识到她爱的男人为什么值得她爱——他的激情，他的自信，他的方式，他坚持把她的美貌和实用性需求放在 生活的首位；令他感到满足的是，她的容颜日渐褪色，却不失优美，她还会把房子装饰得漂漂亮亮。他拼命维系的情感就是让她保持好心态，一直守在他身边；他在 生意上很成功，他的抱负值得敬重和钦佩，孩子们觉得他很威严；隔三差五他就会回家，和她做爱就像验证他的能力；他的身体很强健，甚至有点咄咄逼人——所有 这些构成了一种恣意的侵犯。而她是这一切的同谋。她是身披羽毛的奖赏，奖励她对粗暴的心灵半推半就的顺从。
By Nicholas Admussen , Translated by Zang Di, 臧棣 译
驾车旅行敞篷车现在是一列火车。可折叠的火车现在是一个秘密仪式里的摩门教徒，列车驶向神圣的使命。以美元计算的价格，现在用人民币计算，陷入盲目崇拜的人民币。在中国，由于人们更喜欢循环的空气，而将列车间的大多数车门紧闭。
异 国情调的标记就这样被用来估量可变形的火车。现在火车又变成一个机器人（变形局然很痛），盘坐在闲置的支线上，读着摩门教经典，心想这不就是一本被懒洋洋 地重新讲述的圣经吗；它肩上的一排导弹不断锁定目标，一触即发，随后又折回进身体里。在中国，没有人知道如何对付可变形的机器人，它紧盯着人满为患的火 车，在远处滑行；并打算再次变回一列火车，或是驶向日本。变形机器人现在还原成一个人。可变形的人是孤独的。可变形的人把上下颠倒过来，去半岛上作短暂的 游览。随后，他会回顾这段时光，并打算继续他的行程。他会忘记究竟发生了什么，他会认为它不过与他想要的、或不想要的东西有关。而那也不是他的化油器，丰 富的燃料和易燃的空气并未发生混合。By Nicholas Admussen , Translated by Zang Di, 臧棣 译
医疗惊悚这电影有关那种驾驶车辆或某种东西的人。接近高热般狂乱，形状模模糊糊，事故现场传出碰撞的脆响，它没法再快了。剧场里的温控器指针轻晃在华氏103附 近，银屏变得昏暗，幻觉产生了：我们都失去了宝贵的东西，比指甲还小的东西，我们必须爬来爬去寻找它。影院的地板越来越粘滑，将我们牢牢粘住，观众的 挣扎安静下来，剩下的所有声音都汇集在大脑的脉冲里。它慢慢卷成鼓状物：当它下沉到意识深处，电影又开始抓紧它，晃动它。引座员在观众周围走来走去，一些 人深受感染，被情节不幸地吞没了；而另一些人身体抽搐着，像个死结，接着飞炸成抗生素的榴霰弹。
By Nicholas Admussen , Translated by Zang Di, 臧棣 译
校正
第一晚，你身体僵硬
带着啜泣，兑现着
航海图上那个寻找星相图的
故事。我试着用它
交换你的故事，
故事里你溢涌而出，
因为我打破了自然
表象。故事涌流，又重新凝结
以保持你的完整。最终
它逼真得像皮肤，
还原了最初的你。
by Nicholas Admussen , Translated by Zang Di, 臧棣 译
传教士
这儿没有厕所，
因为每个人都在吃
闪烁的灯光。我们只有安静，
但看起来，我们像一群团结的会众
口里哼唱着赞美诗。
甜美的，甜美的墙壁，甜美的
好奇心丧失，将我们折叠成
吊床。我们知道
你摔倒了，我们知道
你排泄，你爬行，
我们只需要知道这些。
（捆绑好
就放心了；如果你不擅长
平衡，我们可以解决。）
我们即真理。有偏差的话，
我们就会是武装到
牙齿的野兽。我们的教义
针对完美，也针对狂怒。
听好了！我们要你记住
除了成为我们
你什么都不是。你
只能呆在这里。至少
你不得不承认这一点。
by Nicholas Admussen , Translated by Zang Di,臧棣 译
Compendium on How Life is Smelted
生活是怎么炼成的丛书
In the playbill, the scenery has been trundled off to
some unobtrusive place. It’s no wonder. Recently, restaurant bills
have increasingly resembled play bills. Rent must be paid,
home loans must be repaid, all the different edibles have been polluted,
such tiny stomachs, their conflict with us is insignificant
save that they have always stood in for the risks of the cosmos.
The people’s heart brushes against the meat grinder. Each opportunity
seems like a crack in the abyss.
What is more extreme than the method of smelting steel
is the smelting of life. In the training that is Hell Week
everyone’s got their part, no use worrying that you won’t pass through.
People who want to hypnotize reality, in the end they can’t avoid
being hypnotized by reality. All problems resolved through good fortune,
in the end they become a kind of vague humiliation.
Death is no longer a form of serenity, it is a wrath,
aprofoundly cold detachment, it’s a little bit like
the way death itself is smelted. Each of us
has died many times. Living is like a plantgrowing,
and plus it has been scattered across many locations —
your roots here, your leaves over there,
your flowers in some unknown location, stuck in some bottle
you’ve never seen before. Interesting work
still depends on whether you like to set to or not, it’s like
changing the tires on hope. If you decide tospeed,
desperation won’t be fined. If poetry cannot save you,
other enlightenments are surely more subtle.
Death can’t interrupt affairs like it used to,
but travel can. The great river rushes and bubbles,
travelling is like pulling back one foot
from the torrential river current. No need toworry about tickets:
they don’t sell movie tickets here, but over there
you can definitely get a bus ticket. Remember
that bus tickets are not just bus tickets, they are also movie tickets.
It’s no wonder. Bus tickets can also be lottery tickets.
The human landscape is pushing humanity out of the landscape
towards the kiosk where they sell the one-way ticket.
By 臧棣 Zang Di, Translated by Nicholas Admussen
Compendium on a Puppeteer
牵线人丛书
牵线人丛书
When looking at something, you must first turn your head
and that’s her. If the gaze is direct
she will be jumpier than a dog in an earthquake.
There’s no way to look at the world that’s prettier than a single cat.
Sometimes she cannot suppress comparisons between people and dogs.
She treats cats in a much more serious way than she does dogs.
Once she convinced herself that she would love a person as much as cats.
Her conclusion was that loving something is more difficult than all math.
She will not have the suffering of her soul restrained,
among the objects that are her enemies are the university, subways, and TV.
The wild beasts in the TV can spring from the screen, lick her eyebrows and earrings.
This type of thing seems to have happened repeatedly, unceasingly.
So everything with which she comes into contact
finally becomes something to be overcome.
She has special sensitivity to her surroundings. She changes them constantly —
if she stays in a place too long, people become ruins.
So, with more frequency than anyone else, she sets forth from the ruins.
This seems to be her irresistible rule of self-discipline.
Sometimes she herself can acknowledge this to be true.
In new love there is already the blemish that nobody sees yet,
and she can’t stand a blemish. Or one could say that she can’t stand
for anyone else to share the blemishes that are on her body.
It’s not entirely a question of needing to soften the contradictions,
in memory, dimly viewed old loves seem a little bit nicer.
There’s no point to brainwashing. When the crotch has been washed,
that means that the washing is thorough. She knows that in this world
there are those who think with their crotch. She’ll aim a little higher next time,
and maybe from far afield, she’ll be able to see the tail of this poem.
By 臧棣 Zang Di, Translated by Nicholas Admussen
PoetryEastWest 