诗人曰：我从母亲掌纹读出一切

海外文苑

美国纽约【综合新闻】828期文艺版选刊

主编:佩英

总编：程朗

总顾问：马华胜

本期翻译：佩英（Translated by Christine Chen)

内谢·亚欣（Neşe Yaşın）, 塞浦路斯诗人，在塞浦路斯大学土耳其研究系教授语言与文学长达26年，在电台主持并制作广播节目。她曾在土耳其《每日太阳报》（BirGün）担任专栏作家六年，目前每周为塞浦路斯《YeniDüzen》报撰写专栏。亚欣已出版九部诗集、一部小说和一本研究著作。她的诗歌被翻译成38种语言，现任塞浦路斯作家与艺术家联盟联合主席。2024她荣获“尼基福里迪斯国际和平奖”（Nikiforidis International Peace Award）。

爱的颂歌

我们如同最后一场掠夺中
那些被折断的树枝
被春天无休止的交欢欺骗

合而为一--
所有欲望中最不可能的愿望

时间的边界上
你醒来于
遥远祖国的诗句之中
而我，如同一只慵懒的小猫
躺在奇迹之床

我赤足走入你的王国
穿过关闭的门扉
用惊恐的脚印

我的思绪是风
与树交谈，与云对语

我爱你
如鸽子在未知边缘振翅飞起
蝴蝶突如其来颤动
花朵轻轻颤栗

我爱你
如夜空中绽放的烟火
亲吻夜色
又在惊恐中逃离

化作一棵树
与光交合
在月桂叶铺成的床上

你微笑
你深邃的双眸
我看见心灵的梦境
我看见湖泊，天鹅，颤抖的枝丫

你将我击碎
我看见土地在我体内撕裂
你的木筏漂走
而我在自我之海沉溺

如同入侵的骑兵
你站在彼岸
我们在爱的第七夜
在另一个时间的维度
在心灵隐秘小屋
在肉体的隐遁中

我们被欲望之爪抓住
在舌尖的湿润里
存在于荒凉之地
在永恒中的某一刻
在一刻中成永恒

我们在抵达欲望之前就已折返
但在折返的途中
却仿佛已经到达

我们是欲望的萤火
是升起的海之肌肤
是未知之声的咆哮

请记得--
那被雪覆盖的城市
那赤裸的身体
爱的初晨
纯真的翅膀
心灵的小奇迹

请记得--
夜的呻吟
身体的扁舟
潜入又浮出

请记得我们抵达的那片土地
潮湿的石头
我们交融的呼吸
拉紧渴望的丝线
在彼此中溶解
遗忘中的宁静

请记得--
炽热身体的颤栗
我们升腾
翅膀熔化

请记得--
欲望的绝望
你遗忘的宁静
在彼此荒芜中
饮下魔法的花蜜

在我搭建的寂静中
燃烧的问题悬于虚空
我们亲近却如陌生人
而陌生人却又亲近
激情的隐秘忧伤

你留下的
只是梦中你走过的那条街
那踩碎我灵魂的脚步
那在隧道中四散的落叶

请记得--
沙漠风暴中的最后一次拥抱

如果这首诗有朝一日飞向你
请紧紧抓住它的翅膀
别让心中那苦中带甜的记忆
沦为孤儿

Ode to Love

We were like the broken branches during the last looting
deceived by the uninterrupted love-making of spring
To be one
That impossible of all desires
At the border of time
You would wake up to the verses
of your distant land
while I, a sleepy kitten
would lay in the bed of miracles
I would enter your kingdom
Through shuttered doors
with the bare feet of my fear
My mind was the wind
Talking to trees, to the clouds
My loving you
a dove taking wing
at the border of the unknown
The sudden flutter of the butterfly
The shudder of the flower
My loving you
like fireworks
Kissing the night
While fleeing in fear
She turns into a tree
makes love with the light
On a bed of Daphne leaves
You had smiled
Deep in your eyes
I saw the dream of the heart
I saw lakes, swans, shuddering branches
You had broken me
I saw lands torn apart inside me
Your raft drifting away
My own drowning
The invading galloping horsemen
You, standing on another shore
We were in the seventh night of love
In the other dimension of time
In the hidden hut of the heart
In the seclusion of the body
We were in the claws of desire
In the moisture of our tongues
At the desolation of existence
at a moment in eternity
in the eternity of moment
We returned before we reached the desired
But on our return it seemed like we had reached it
We were the fireflies of desire
the skin of the rising sea
the howling of the unknown
Remember
The city under snow
The naked bodies
The first dawn of love
The wings of innocence
The small miracle of the heart
Remember
The moans of the night
and the boats of bodies
diving in diving out
Remember the land we reached
The wet stones
Our mingling breath
Pulling in the thread of longing
dissolving into each other
the peace of oblivion
Remember
The shudder of the inflamed body
Our rise
The melting of wings
Remember
The desperation of desire
your forgotten serenity
drinking the magic nectar
in each other’s desolation
In the silence I build up
the question burning in the void
to be strangers while close
and close while strangers
the secret melancholy of passion
What remains of you
is the street you stroll in my dreams
The steps that crush my soul
The leaf scattered in the tunnel
Remember
The last embrace
in the desert storm
If ever this poem comes flying to you
Cling onto its wings
Don’t let the bittersweet memory of the heart
be orphaned

毒苹果

曾经不存在，而后存在了
孤独是我最初的摇篮
在风中被遗忘

珍珠点缀我的被褥
邪恶蓝眼珠
凝固在石中注视着我

当母亲松开手
鸟儿借给我翅膀
树木给我筑巢

那夜
林中叶落，片片哀泣
狼把乳房借出来哺育我

我有一个继父神
却从不听我说话

我咬下那颗毒苹果
母亲与爱人都离我而去

我成了寒霜中啼哭的树枝
孤独饮水
落叶沙沙作响，那是我的声音

我的爱人或存在，或不存在
他的名字是风，他的记忆是一尾鱼
我哭，他却不哭
我倾诉，他却不懂

我说话时，竟不认得
无声的声音

然而有一天，我终于解开
那颗受伤灵魂的谜题

哦，我心中秘密博物馆，打开--
一个小女孩藏在里面
她是每一个心碎女人的声音

失落之爱的命运
铭刻于她流血的国土

时间，是一场
停歇在折断树枝上的风暴
语无伦次地诉说着毁灭

POISON APPLE

Once I didn’t then I did exist

loneliness was my cradle

forgotten in the wind

Pearls ornamented my coverlet

evil-eye beads

frozen in stone gazed at me

When my mother loosed me from her hand

the birds lent me wings

the trees a nest

It was night

leaf on leaf the forest wept

wolves gave me their breasts

I had a step-god

He would not hear what I said

When I bit into the poison apple

my mother and my love deserted me

I was a branch crying in the frost

water drinking solitude

the voice of leaves rustling

My lover did or didn’t exist

his name was the wind, his memory a fish

if I cried he did not cry

if I explained he did not understand

When I spoke I could not recognize

my voiceless voice

still one day I solved

the riddle of my wounded soul

O secret museum of my heart, open

a little girl is hiding inside

every heartbroken woman’s voice

The fate of a love lost

is registered on Its bleeding country

Time is a storm that comes to rest

on broken branches

speaking deliriously of ruin

诗歌评论：

塞浦路斯内谢·亚欣（Neşe Yaşın）这两首诗《爱的颂歌》（Ode to Love）和《毒苹果》（Poison Apple）构成了一组情感强烈、意象丰盈的双重奏，如同一场爱与孤独的交响，它们互为镜像，又各自独立，如灵魂的两面，揭示出女性在爱、身体、孤寂、创伤与自我重生之间的深层挣扎与探索。《毒苹果》是神话、童话与孤独的隐喻炼金术，相比之下《毒苹果》比《爱的颂歌》更具象征主义特质与精神心理维度，它不是写一段爱情或某段关系，而是探讨灵魂的诞生、分裂与疗愈。它也更“原型化”，对女性身份、家庭、神灵与爱欲进行了深层拷问。（佩英)

Editorials:

These two poems by Cypriot poet Neşe Yaşın, *Ode to Love* and *Poison Apple*, form a powerful emotional duet, rich in imagery—like a symphony of love and solitude. They mirror each other while also standing independently, as two facets of the soul. Together, they reveal a profound exploration of the female experience in love, the body, loneliness, trauma, and self-rebirth.

*Poison Apple* is an alchemical metaphor blending myth, fairy tale, and solitude. Compared to *Ode to Love*, it carries stronger Symbolist qualities and delves deeper into the spiritual and psychological dimensions. It is not merely about a love affair or relationship, but rather about the birth, fragmentation, and healing of the soul. The poem is archetypal in nature, raising penetrating questions about female identity, family, divinity, and desire.

索尼娅·马诺伊洛维奇（Sonja Manojlović / Sonia Manojlovich）, 克罗地亚作家、诗人，已出版23部诗集并被翻译成30多种语言。她一生从事自由写作，曾担任广播电台、杂志和报纸的编辑，并多年担任克罗地亚作家协会秘书长。她曾获得多项文学奖项，包括希腊、印度、日本和俄罗斯的诗歌卓越奖，她受邀参加世界重要国际诗歌节，包括：哥伦比亚 - 麦德林、马其顿 - 斯特鲁加诗歌之夜等。

我记得一切

如果那就是全部，我记得一切
房屋悄无声息被四散抛弃
孩子的话语，执拗地拥挤在
花园，草莓丛
这被生活啃噬过的印记
那么，请长话短说吧——
你原谅了吗？
眼睛细长！
从未遗忘！
我之挚爱都将被毁灭！
我能从母亲掌纹读出一切
世界干涸，语言行于水面
城市如斯，一件一件地
毁灭成碎物
那就是我们的家留下的所有

I REMEMBER EVERYTHING

If that's everything, I remember everything.
Houses thrown around amidst the inaudible
A child's speech, crowded, obsessed,
In the garden, among strawberries,
Life’s bites,
So, in the simplest terms,
Do you forgive?
Those eyes so narrow!
It hasn't been forgotten!
All that I love will be killed!
I can read it from my mother's palm.
The dryness of the world, words walking over the water.
That's the kind of city this is, ruined into objects
One after another,
That’s left of home.
Translated by Damir Shodan

国家舞蹈

琐碎脚步哐当作响！
可以这样跳——但你看，也可以那样跳
摇摆挑衅与张狂
高举着
点缀着锤打的青铜器乐
呼喊着
靴子嘎吱嘎吱作响
用放荡、吞噬的眼神打量着彼此
自以为的活着--
不过是与死人相比罢了

NATIONAL DANCES

What a petty rattling of feet!
It can be done this way, but look, that way is also right
Warlike swaying and swaggering,
Raising
Seasoned with hammered brass,
Amiable shouting,
Squeaking of boots,
They look at each other with debauched, slurping eyes
Considering themselves alive
In contrast to the dead
Translated by Dinko Telechan

我笨拙地活，又如何

我笨拙地活，又如何
我步履蹒跚
在千数双眼中我支离破碎
直至深夜，我依然为垂死的
小夜莺归类
我在它们体内一层又一层
打开深处帷幕
我要呼吸，进食
如何？
待在空气和书籍煮成的滋养之汤处
我将就坐着
手托下巴
直到手心枯萎
直到我之眸确认
如何，若我向你索要书本以及
吻的嘴唇？

SO WHAT IF I LIVE UNSKILLFULLY

So what if I live unskilfully,
If I stagger
Mutilated to a thousand eyes
Until late at night I classify tiny little nightingales, almost killed
I open and open the screens of distance within them
What if I want to breathe, to eat?
Where there is nourishing soup of air and books
At which I will sit
Lean my chin on my palm
Until my hand withers
And my eyelids confirm
So what if I take only the books from you
Mouth for our kiss

诗歌评论：

克罗地亚作家索尼娅·马诺伊洛维奇（Sonja Manojlović / Sonia Manojlovich）这三首诗风格各异，分别代表了 记忆的创伤叙事（《我记得一切》）、群体行为的政治隐喻（《国家舞蹈》） 与 个体存在的诗性挣扎（《我笨拙地活，又如何》）。其语言葆有高度凝练与诗性流动感；意象精准，如“母亲掌纹”“锤打的铜器”“书籍的养分”等， “激活”视觉想象力。无论是冷峻的控诉、讽刺的目光，还是自我之柔软与坚韧，皆蕴藏温度与爱，读完意犹未竟。(佩英）

Editorials:

These three poems by Croatian writer Sonja Manojlović each showcase a distinct style, representing respectively: the narrative of traumatic memory (I Remember Everything), a political metaphor of collective (National Dance*), and a poetic struggle for individual existence (I Live Clumsily, So What).

Her language is marked by a high degree of conciseness and lyrical fluidity. The imagery is precise and evocative—“a mother’s palm lines,” “hammered copper,” “the nourishment of books”—all of which activate the reader’s visual imagination.

Whether delivering a cold indictment, casting a satirical gaze, or expressing the tender resilience of the self, her work holds warmth and compassion at its core, leaving a lingering resonance long after reading.(By Christine Chen)

侯赛因·哈巴什（Hussein Habasch）, 库尔德斯坦阿夫林的诗人，目前居住在德国波恩。他的诗歌已被翻译成30余种语言传播。其诗作被收录于全球150多部国际诗歌选集中，已出版诗集20部。他曾参加近30个国家的诗歌节。他曾获得多项荣誉奖项，包括：2024年在摩洛哥萨菲国际诗歌论坛获得的荣誉奖，2024年在印度加尔各答举办的“世界思想家与作家和平大会”上荣获的“孟加拉Kathak国际文学奖”；2022年由库尔德作家和记者总联盟颁发的“伟大的库尔德诗人哈米德·贝迪尔汗奖”；2022年由波黑作家联盟颁发的“波斯尼亚·斯捷恰克国际诗歌奖”等。

流亡中的石头！

我很快就要前往哈瓦那了，吉赛尔，
你想让我从这里带点什么吗？
“是的，我想要一块石头，一块小石头，
被你们国家的河流和泉水打磨过的石头！
一块像你眼睛的光芒、像你内心颜色的石头，
一块我能在哈瓦那海边阳台上展示的石头，
我会告诉它：这是诗人的石头，是他想象的惊叹。
这是诗人的石头，是他存在的意义。
这是诗人的石头，哦，撞击的浪花与快乐的鱼儿，

这是诗人的石头，哦，白色的泡沫与如新娘般在清澈水面上摇曳的船只。”

哦，吉赛尔，
哦，我亲爱的朋友，
你在无意间打开了我心中许多伤口！
那些沉睡的伤口，我曾努力将它们遗忘。
深深的伤口，压迫着我的心，几乎要将它压成尘埃！
我如何能从我的祖国带一块石头给你，
当我的祖国每小时、每天、每月、每年都在毁灭，
却无人关心！
我如何能从我的祖国带它给你，
当这该死的流亡已持续三十年，
如同一块沉重的石头压在我胸口，扼住我的呼吸？
我如何带给你，它几乎是不可能中的不可能！
但让我想一想，找到一个解决办法！
是的，我会带给你一块小石头，
一块被流亡的河流与泉水打磨过的石头！
一块彩色的石头，我将从莱茵河中取出，如同珍珠，

我会再加上一块，用我的心跳去打磨它！

是的，我会带给你一块石头，
它将感受流亡，如我所感，
但当它坐在你膝上，它将安心，
它灵魂与心中的流亡之苦将得到安抚。
哦，吉赛尔，
我忘了告诉你，我的朋友巴扬去了库尔德斯坦度假，
我请求她为我带一块家乡的石头，正如你请求我一样。
一块与你所收到的这块相似的石头，
但它不是被流亡的河流和泉水打磨，
而是被库尔德斯坦的河流和泉水打磨的石头。
一块像我眼中之光、我心中之色的石头，
一块我会珍藏为忠实朋友的石头，
我信任它，它也信任我，
一块比所有宝石都珍贵的石头，

一块将在我流亡岁月中永远伴随我的石头！

哦，吉赛尔，我也忘了告诉你，
我还从哈瓦那带来了一块石头，
一块被你心的河流与温暖海洋打磨过的石头。
一块我触碰它，就会想起哈瓦那的人行道，一块一块地想起，
一块脸上布满雀斑、下巴有颗痣的石头，
也许它曾是何塞·马蒂丢失的一颗宝石，
好让库尔德诗人找到它，
并带回他在德国的流亡生活中。
这块石头将与巴扬从库尔德斯坦带来的石头并肩而立，
它们将共同安慰我漫长的孤独与永恒的流亡之旅。

Stones in Exile!

I will soon come to Havana, Giselle
Do you want something from here?
Yes, I want a stone, a little stone, polished by the rivers and springs of your country!
A stone that resembles the sparkle of your eyes and the color of your heart
A stone I show off in front of the seaside balcony in Havana, and I tell it this is the poet's stone and the astonishment of his imagination.
This is the poet's stone and the meaning of his existence.
This is the poet's stone, oh the crashing waves and happy fish.
This is the poet's stone, oh the white foam and ships that sway like brides over clear waters.
Oh Giselle
Oh, my dear friend
You have opened many wounds in my heart without intending it!
Wounds that were dormant and I tried to put them in oblivion.
Deep wounds pressing on my heart and almost turning it into atoms from the intense pressure!
How can I bring you a stone from my country, when my country is annihilated every hour, every day, every month and every year and no one cares about that!
How can I bring it to you from my country, when this accursed exile for thirty years has perched like a heavy stone on my chest and suppresses my breath?
How can I bring it to you, my friend, and the impossible is impossible?!
But let me think a little and find a solution!
Yes, I will bring you a little stone, polished by the rivers and springs of exile!
A colored stone, I will take out from the Rhine like a pearl, and I will add another stone to it, polishing it with my heartbeat!
Yes, I will bring you a stone, it will feel the exile as I feel, but when it sits on your lap; it will be reassured and will ease the torment of exile in its soul and heart.
Oh Giselle
I forgot to tell you that my friend Bayan went to Kurdistan on vacation
I asked her to bring me a stone from my country, as you asked me.
A stone similar to the one I brought you from here
But not a stone polished by the rivers and springs of exile
Rather, it is polished by the rivers and springs of Kurdistan
A stone like the light of my eyes and the color of my heart.
A stone I will keep as a loyal friend
I trust it and it trusts me
A stone more precious than all precious stones
A stone that will accompany me in my exile forever!
Oh Giselle. I forgot to tell you as well
That I brought a stone from Havana
A stone polished by the rivers of your heart and its warm seas.
A stone, if I touch it, I will remember the sidewalks of Havana, stone by stone.
A stone with many freckles on its face and a mole on its chin
A stone that may have been a jewel that Jose Marti lost in order for the Kurdish poet to find it and bring it to his German exile.
A stone that will take its place next to the stone that my friend Bayan brought from Kurdistan
And both of them will comfort my long isolation and my eternal exile.

哭泣

清晨，她哭泣
中午，她哭泣
傍晚，她哭泣
清晨，她失去了一个儿子
中午，她又失去了另一个
傍晚，她失去了最后的亲人
第二天清晨，人们为她哭泣
中午，人们为那些哭泣的人哭泣
到了傍晚，已无人再哭泣
整个小镇，被鲜血淹没。

Weeping

She wept in the morning
She wept at noon
She wept in the evening
In the morning, she lost a son
At noon, she lost another
In the evening, she lost the last of family
The next morning, they cried for her
At noon, they cried for those who were crying for her
In the evening, there were no remaining cries
The whole town was swamped with blood.

拥抱

当两位恋人
听见战斗机的轰鸣，
他们相拥在一起。
当声音愈加逼近，
他们更加紧紧相拥。
当轰炸与毁灭降临，
他们死死地拥抱在一起。
如今，
他们在永恒中相拥而立。

The Embrace

When the two lovers heard
The fighter planes roar,
They embraced each other.
When the sound approached more,
They embraced each other more.
When the bombing and destruction began,
They embraced each other tightly.
Now they stand in an embrace in eternity.

诗歌评论：

库尔德斯坦裔诗人侯赛因·哈巴什（Hussein Habasch）这三首诗构成一组高度统一而多样的诗歌作品，它们风格各异，却共鸣在流亡、死亡、创伤与人类情感的极限状态中。诗人在叙利亚境内本jia族庞大，而今死的死，散的散。诗人把所有情感付诸诗句，描绘了现代人类处境中的终极困境：无家可归、情感无所依、文明在轰鸣中粉碎，但其中又闪烁着记忆、信任与人性温度的光芒。文风质朴、清晰、而又震撼人心。诗歌不煽情，通过沉默中的呐喊、压抑中的爆破、哀痛中的温柔呈现终极的感性与关怀，过目难忘。（佩英）

Editorials:

The three poems by Kurdish poet Hussein Habasch form a unified yet diverse poetic suite. Though differing in style, they resonate with shared themes of exile, death, trauma, and the extremities of human emotion. The poet’s extended family, once large within Syria, is now scattered—some dead, others dispersed. He pours all his emotions into his verses, painting the ultimate predicament of modern humanity: homelessness, emotional dislocation, and the collapse of civilization amid thunderous destruction. Yet within this desolation glimmer traces of memory, trust, and the warmth of human dignity.
His literary style is unadorned, clear, yet deeply moving. Without resorting to sentimentality, his poems express an ultimate empathy and sensitivity—through cries within silence, explosions beneath restraint, and tenderness amid grief. The impact is unforgettable.(by Christine Chen)

亚历山德拉·尼科德（Alexandra Nicod）是一位瑞士-西班牙诗人、剧作家和演员，出生于瑞士，现居西班牙马德里。她拥有两个学士学位，一个为翻译学位，另一个为戏剧艺术学位。她出版过多部诗集，并创作了多部剧作，在西班牙的剧院上演。她是西班牙通用作家与出版者协会成员、西班牙注册作家协会成员，以及西班牙演员联盟成员。

起源

我离开了自己的身体，
就像一个人逃离一所燃烧的房子。
我的身体不再是安全的地方，
不再是了……
突然间，
所有的鸟儿从天空坠落，
在半空中——
白的、黑的，
大的、小的，
高飞的、贴地滑翔的……
云朵坠落，太阳躲藏，月亮不再升起……
汽车停下，行人化为石像，
屋顶崩塌，
忽然之间，
所有的女孩都燃烧起来——
女儿与孙女，
姐妹与侄女，
表亲与教女……
所有的女孩在家中燃烧，
在她们的房间，在她们的床上。
在每一所房子里，
每一个村庄、每一座城镇里，
火焰升腾，接连不断，
火焰在呼救……
你听见了，
你试图尖叫……
但你只是个女孩，
而燃烧的女孩，
是无法尖叫的……

Origin

I left my body like someone leaving a burning house. My body was no longer a safe place. Not
Anymore...
And suddenly all the birds fell from the sky, in mid-flight, the white ones and the black ones, the big
Ones and the small ones, those that fly high and those that glide low to the ground… The clouds fall,
The sun hides, the moon does not appear... Cars stop, walkers petrify, the roofs of the houses
Collapse, and, all of a sudden, all the girls burst into flames, the daughters and granddaughters, the
Sisters and nieces, the cousins and goddaughters… All the girls burning in their homes, their rooms,
Their beds. In every house, every village, every town flames arise, one after another, flames calling
For help... and you hear them and try to scream...
But you are only a girl and girls on fire cannot scream...

诗歌评论：

瑞士裔诗人亚历山德拉·尼科德（Alexandra Nicod）《起源》的诗作，是一首极具冲击力和悲怆气质的现代自由诗，它用隐喻、象征与突如其来的灾难性意象，揭示了深刻的女性创伤经验与身体政治。这不仅是私人之痛的哀号，也是对整个女性群体苦难的集体记忆与控诉。“身体”与“燃烧的房子” “身体”与“燃烧的房子”隐喻创伤,其意象密集爆裂：天体崩塌，世界凝固。诗人通过，“无法发声”的意象终结全诗，燃烧的过程成为无声的毁灭，这是通过女性视野对战争与暴行的血泪控诉。（佩英）

Editorials:

Swiss poet Alexandra Nicod’s *Origin* is a modern free verse poem of striking impact and tragic resonance. Through metaphor, symbolism, and sudden catastrophic imagery, it reveals profound experiences of female trauma and the politics of the body. This is not only a lament for personal pain but a collective outcry and testimony to the suffering of women as a whole.
The metaphor of the “body” as a “burning house” powerfully evokes the sense of violation and trauma. The poem’s imagery erupts in a cascade of collapse—celestial bodies fall, the world freezes. In the end, the poet concludes with the image of being unable to scream: the act of burning becomes a silent destruction. This silence is not emptiness but a powerful indictment—a cry against war and violence seen through a female perspective, soaked in blood and grief.(by Christine Chen)