North Point, Victoria City
by Li Yuzhong
The ocean blue,
deeper and more saturated than the sky,
looks like a massive carpet with sparkling embroidery traces.
No ships sail out of the harbor, and
no flowers bloom in the carpet.
In the sky, though, a few flowers remain.
Those torn pieces of cotton wool seem old,
no longer white.
Across the bay, the bald mountains look intimidating,
like an old man who's never grown hair.
The emerald green on the side of the majestic North Point
is different from that of the passing trams.
Small carts, pushed by each worker,
get into difficulty, sliding on the narrow tracks.
The majestic motor keeps beating
as if to crush everything,
to spread smoke and stone chips.
It's so nice under the clear November sky, but
the swimming shed has long withered.
Hong Kong, 1934
李育中〈維多利亞市北角〉
蔚藍的水
比天的色更深更厚
倒像是一幅鋪闊的大毛毯
那毛毯上繡出鱗鱗紋跡
沒有船出港
那上面遂空着沒有花開
天呢却留回幾朵
撕剩了的棉絮
好像也舊了不十分白
對岸的山禿得怕人
這老翁彷彿一出世就沒有青髮似的
崢嶸的北角半山腰的翠青色
就比過路的電車不同
每個工人駕御的小車
小軌道滑走也吃力
雄偉的馬達吼得不停
要輾碎一切似地
把媒煙石屑潰散開去
十一月的晴空下那麼好
游泳棚却早已淍殘了
Window
by Lomen (Luo Men)
I fling it open my hands follow the flow of a stream
always mountains and rivers
always eyes with no return
Being seen in the distance
you become a bird with a thousand wings
Leaving the sky you no longer have your wings
Being heard
you become a flute with a thousand holes
The road of music is as deep as my eyes gazing at the past
I fling it open but I am locked in an inescapable
transparency
Taiwan, 1972
羅門 〈窗〉
猛力一推 雙手如流
總是千山萬水
總是回不來的眼睛
遙望裏
你被望成千翼之鳥
棄天空而去 你已不在翅膀上
聆聽裏
你被聽成千孔之笛
音道深如望向往昔的凝目
猛力一推 竟被反鎖在走不出去
的透明裏
War
by Wei Ming
Traveling thousands of miles,
the footsteps
finally come to a stop.
Gazing
into the cold heart of autumn,
the leaves gradually congeal.
Snow drifts in from the north.
On his face,
the vicissitudes of the setting sun
remain silent;
the breeze,
the soil’s sigh,
standing upright.
After a flash of shadow,
golden light spreads.
Broken petals and the flying red
compete to protect the flowers.
And autumn, deepens.
Macao, 1976
葦鳴〈戰〉
踏千里而來的
腳步，
終要煞住。
炯炯。
金秋心冷，
落葉漸漸凝結，
雪自北方飄來。
面上，
夕照的滄桑
無言；
微風一陣，
泥土的輕嘆
筆直挺立。
彤影一閃後
金光飄灑。
斷肉飛紅，
爭為護花使。
而秋，更深了。
Early Snow (Poem 2)
by Luo Fu
Yesterday’s dream is resting beyond the wall.
An unfinished letter lies on the table.
I focus on observing
the courtyard where the snow is holding
a funeral for a frozen stiff robin…
I am enjoying my hot coffee.
My hands are smoothing and rubbing the cup,
turning it around, quickly turning it around
until
the snowflakes on the glass window, fall one after another.
(The clock
is continuously destroying itself)
洛夫〈初雪（二）〉
牆外睡着昨夜的夢
桌上擱着一封未寫完的信
我專注地望着
院子裏大雪在為一隻凍僵的知更鳥
舉行葬禮……
我喝着熱咖啡
雙手捧著杯子搓着，揉着
一直轉着，快速地轉着
及至
玻璃窗上的積雪紛紛而落（時鐘
不停地在消滅自己）