A Movie Poster on the Wall of a Café *
Rome
is written on the skirt of a woman.
A robust woman in black
ruddy-cheeked, stands
between heaven and earth,
hands on hips.
She fills the poster with her body,
leaving only a corner
to the maroon sky and dark clouds.
All of Italy is carried in her eyes.
The title drops on her breast.
* This translation has also appeared in Off the Coast, vol. 23, no. 4, Winter 2017, the editors having given permission to republish it in Double Dialogues.
《在一家咖啡馆的墙壁上看到的电影海报》
吴雨伦
罗马
被写在一个女人的裙摆上
顶天立地的健壮女人
脸颊泛红
双手插腰
黑色上衣
身材占满整张海报
只露出一点暗红色的天空
和黑色的云
眼睛装下整个意大利
导演把名字写在她的胸上
Perfect Feeling
I don’t listen to Beethoven
Mozart
or Bach.
I don’t listen to the gang of Nazi ancestors
to pipe or fiddle.
Tenors and sopranos
sing in a language I never understand
as if sounding from the sewer.
Until one night
a chill sets in.
Roaring winds scratching the window,
terror befalls like a beast.
I load the Viennese into the headset,
shut myself off and slide into a dream.
I awake from a nightmare,
no sound of the wind at night.
My headset at bedside makes a faint voice,
it’s Mozart's solo
like an elf
in the dark
snoring freely.
《完美感觉》
吴雨伦
我不听贝多芬
不听莫扎特
不听巴赫
不听这帮纳粹祖宗们
吹笛拉琴
男高音女高音
唱那像是下水道里传出的
我永远听不懂的语言
直到一天晚上
寒冷驾到
大风擦着窗口嘶吼
恐怖如野兽般降临
我把维也纳人装进耳机
隔绝世界，入梦
噩梦惊醒
夜里，没有风声
耳机在床头，发出微弱的声音
是莫扎特的独奏
在黑暗中
像个小精灵
自由的鼾声
The Dead Sea in My Dream
Before leaving the Dead Sea
I'm going to take away some sea water
as a keepsake.
I have no other containers to carry
except a coke bottle.
I, in my dream
am back to the Dead Sea again,
where the pale-yellow rocky mountain is tall,
the coast covered with white salt blocks.
Bubbles ascend in the azure water
in the sunlight, exuding a faint scent
of cola.
《梦中的死海》
吴雨伦
离开死海前
为了留作纪念
我打算装走一点死海水
碰巧没有别的容器
只好用一个可乐瓶
在梦中
我再次回到死海
高大的浅黄色岩石山
布满白色盐块的海岸
气泡冲上碧蓝色的海水
阳光下
泛着淡淡可乐味的清香
The Moment Time Is Frozen
The moment time is frozen
Is when
A gale of wind blows away
All particles
A vacuum night
I hold a box of Belgian chocolates
Passing through the street
The box is flung open
All of a sudden
Those things in sweet wrappers
Scatter on the ground
Reflecting colourful lights
Under the streetlamp
Like a charcoal fire splashing about
On a vacuum night
《时间静止的时刻》
吴雨伦
时间静止的时刻
是在
大风吹走一切颗粒
真空般的夜晚
我拿着一盒比利时巧克力
穿过街道
突然
盒子被摇开
那些被糖纸包裹着
的家伙们散落在地
路灯下
反射着五颜六色的光
如同一堆迸溅而出的炭火
在真空的夜晚
Wu Yulun, born in 1995, the son of Yi Sha, is currently an undergraduate at Beijing Normal University. His poetry is widely published in Chinese literary magazines and has recently appeared in English translation, for example, in Acumen: Poetry Prose Reviews, Issue 85, May 2016 and in Liang Yujing (ed. & trans.), Zero Distance: New Poetry from China (Hawai’i: Tinfish Press, 2017).