诗人曰：读一个词的倒影， 像读透鸟鸣

海外文苑

纽约【综合新闻】841期

主编：佩英

总顾问：马华胜

总编：程朗

汉译：佩英(Translated by Christine Chen)

雷吉娜·雷斯塔，1955年生于意大利那不勒斯，诗人、作家、文化组织者。曾任教并长期服务于慈善机构，创办并主持文化栏目“Verbumlandia”，出版多部诗集，作品译成多种语言。她获“马里奥·卢齐奖”“世界和平诗歌奖”等国际殊荣，2020年获贝尔格莱德大学荣誉文学博士。现任国际协会VerbumlandiArt主席、《VerbumPress》总监，并主持“国际卓越奖”“神圣女性”反性别暴力项目。

和平之剑

我所持之剑无锋，
无尖刺，无鲜血，无傲慢——
它是沉默，胜过尖啸；
是抉择，燃尽虚伪。
它是投降，挑战傲慢，
是危难之时仍选择停留；
它是宽恕，深入那岩石般
令我们恐惧的伤口深处。
和平之剑是一道伤痕，
无需护盾，也不索复仇，
是镜子映照敌人，
映出我早已疏离的面容。
它非风平浪静的胆怯，
而是良知走过痛楚；
颤抖之手敢于阻止
爱可能染上的一击。
它是破除战争的武器，
而不摧毁大地；
它在智者梦中低语，
在受伤者心中沉睡。
它不强加，不呼喊，不咒骂，
它是最人性、最赤裸的声音：
“我不毁灭，
我守护仍在每颗灵魂里
呼求正义之声

The Weapon of Peace

It bears no edge, the sword I carry,
no point, no blood, no pride —
it is silence that defeats the scream,
the choice that burns away the lie.
It is surrender that challenges pride,
the staying when fleeing is near,
it is forgiveness that digs through the rocky
depth of the wound we fear.
The weapon of peace is a scar
that asks for no shield or revenge,
a mirror reflecting the enemy
with a face I’ve long estranged.
It is not calm that fears the storm,
but conscience walking through pain,
a trembling hand that dares to stop
the blow that love would stain.
It is the weapon that breaks all war
without breaking the earth,
that speaks in the dreams of the wise,
that sleeps in the hearts of the hurt.
It doesn’t impose, nor shout, nor swear.
It is the voice most human, most bare:
"I do not destroy,
but I keep alive
what in every soul
still cries
for justice."

神手

穹苍深处，光影幽微，
有手徐降，自永恒来。
非血非石，非声非色，
惟息惟火，自由无羁。
曾拂怒涛，人将溺兮，
负罪梦殇，沉沉不息。
弱者因之而起，荆棘因之而折，
沉寂忽有言，饥者忽有食。
它触兵戈之原，亦抚寂寞之野，
在风里书写无边静寂。
若电击，若雪抚，
无言无问，无怨无哀。
当世人谓万事已失，
当黑暗横行，不计其代价，
它仍在——在一举一动间，
在救赎之拥，在新生之信。
神手不求名，不计黄金，
不为显赫，但栖仁心。
在含泪之眸，在日光之慰，
在至爱的灵魂，常得其居。
而我辈——卑影伏恩泽之下，
惊叹而立，于脆弱人间。
纵一瞬擦肩，亦曾感受
那无形之触——神圣而温柔。

The Hand of God

In the heart of the sky, 'midst light and mystery,
a hand descends, slow, from eternity.
Not made of flesh, nor stone, nor sound,
but of pure breath, of fire unbound.
It brushes the waves where man may drown,
in guilt he bears, in dreams cast down.
It lifts the weak, breaks every thorn,
gives voice to silence, to hunger, corn.
It touched the fields of war and hush,
it wrote in winds a boundless hush.
It struck like lightning, soothed like snow,
without a question, a word, a woe.
And when we believe that all is lost,
that darkness reigns, no matter the cost,
there it is—within a different deed,
in the saving hug, in a blooming creed.
The Hand of God asks no acclaim,
weighs not gold, seeks not fame.
But finds its home in the loving soul,
in the tearful gaze, in the sun’s console.
And we, small shadows beneath its grace,
stand in awe, in this fragile place,
as we brush, though just for a while,
that unseen touch—divine and mild.

让战争停下

让战争停下。
每一声枪响，
都是一块阴影的生长，
一声逐渐熄灭的呼喊，
一座化作灰烬的房屋。
战争没有胜利者。
只有母亲在长久等待，
面庞被岁月与火焰抹去，
只有孩子太早学会忍泪沉默。
爆炸之后的寂静
比巨响更沉重。
那是书籍燃尽后的灰烬，
是空旷的教室，
是荒芜而无收成的田野。
让战争停下，
不是靠武器，
而是靠艰难的言语：
倾听，尊重，宽恕。
火焰我们已经见得太多，
此刻我们需要清泉与雨水。
尸骨我们已经数得太多，
此刻我们需要建设的双手，
需要一双双能看穿仇恨的眼睛。
让战争停下。
就从这里开始。

Let's Stop the Wars

Let's stop the wars.
Every shot fired is a growing shadow,
a voice fading,
a house turning to dust.
There are no winners in war,
only mothers waiting,
faces erased by time and fire,
children learning too soon not to cry.
There is a silence, after the explosion,
that weighs more than the noise.
It’s the silence of burned books,
empty schools,
fields without harvest.
Let's stop the wars
not with weapons,
but with difficult words:
listening, respect, forgiveness.
We’ve already seen enough fire.
Now we need water.
We’ve already counted enough dead.
Now we need hands that build,
and eyes that look beyond the enemy.
Let’s stop the wars.
Let’s start from here.

诗歌赏析：

这三首诗整体上呈现出雷吉娜·雷斯塔一以贯之的创作关怀：反对战争、追寻信仰、强调人类良知与灵魂的力量。它们虽主题相近，但表现手法、象征意象与语言气质各有差异。《和平之剑 The Weapon of Peace》带有宣言式力量，像是诗人对人类的道德告白。寓言感与哲理感极强，思想深刻；《神手 The Hand of God》强调人类的脆弱与对“神手”的依赖，使诗具有神秘感和精神慰藉。相比《和平之剑》的理性锋利，《神手》显得更温柔、神秘、抚慰人心；《让战争停下 Let's Stop the Wars》没有太多象征，而是直接诉求，富有人道主义关怀，能在公众场合引起强烈共鸣。这三首诗构成了一个由哲理（和平之剑）、信仰（神手）、现实（让战争停下）*的三重结构，既有抽象的精神思考，又有超验的宗教寄托，更有落地的现实呐喊，展示了雷吉娜·雷斯塔作为诗人与文化活动家的全面姿态。（佩英）

Editorials：

Regina Resta’s three poems reveal a sustained preoccupation with the central concerns of her oeuvre: a rejection of war, a quest for faith, and a steadfast emphasis on human conscience and the resilience of the soul. While thematically convergent, the poems diverge markedly in their techniques, symbolic registers, and tonal qualities.

The Weapon of Peace carries the force of a manifesto, a moral declaration addressed to humanity at large. Its allegorical sharpness and philosophical density render it a work of profound intellectual weight. By contrast, The Hand of God underscores the fragility of the human condition and its dependence upon divine intervention; here the language acquires an aura of mystery and offers spiritual consolation. Where The Weapon of Peace cuts with rational precision, The Hand of God consoles with gentleness, mystery, and a healing cadence. Let’s Stop the Wars, on the other hand, abandons elaborate symbolism in favor of direct appeal. Stripped to its essentials, it speaks with humanitarian urgency, designed to resonate with collective conscience and to echo powerfully in the public sphere.

Taken together, the three poems form a triptych—philosophy (The Weapon of Peace), faith (The Hand of God), and reality (Let’s Stop the Wars). Within this triadic structure, Resta moves fluidly from abstract speculation to transcendent religious invocation, and finally to a grounded outcry rooted in lived experience. The result is a portrait of the poet not only as a visionary but also as a cultural actor, one whose voice spans the realms of moral reflection, spiritual longing, and urgent social engagement.（ByChristineChen）

乔治·马里奥·安赫尔·金特罗（George Mario Angel Quintero）
1964年生于旧金山，哥伦比亚裔美国作家、诗人、剧作家、视觉艺术家。曾获斯坦福大学华莱士·斯泰格纳写作奖学金，以英文名 George Angel 出版诗歌、小说、随笔及获奖短篇集 The Fifth Season。1995年起定居麦德林，以西语名 Mario Angel Quintero 出版诗集、戏剧与散文十余部，创办帕尔帕多剧团，作品译为多国语言，并活跃于国际文艺节。

《寒时守望（木·肤·石的铭文）》诗歌集节选

星期四：耕护、清理、寻找光与水，束缚破损与挫伤。
星期五：感受宇宙：世界的尖端，从星辰到叶片所见，倾听。
星期六：伸展、生长、挖掘，生命在我们体内与彼此之间的不可思议推进。参与生命，共同伸展。
星期日：庆祝时间如轮，多样而丰盈。荣耀。
——献给贝尔塔·内莉·阿尔博莱达·鲁伊斯

IN THIS COLD’S TENDING TIME
(scripts on wood, flesh, and stone)

Thursday: Tending, clearing away, finding the light and the water, binding the broken and bruised.
Friday: Feeling the cosmos: The tip of the world, what we see from star to leaf, listening.
Saturday: Extension, growth, digging, the incredible onward of living within us and between us. Participation in living. Together extending.
Sunday: Celebration that time is a wheel, multiform in its production. Glory

一．耕护

读一个词的倒影，
竟像要读透鸟鸣。
胆怯者将如何安放？
风险又何处停驻？
边缘最先被播下，
被买来的身体拔出，
是把呼吸的身体放进。
我问自己：能否倾听？
能否一直倾听——
直至声音融化？
书页被划作田地，
汁液在边界处膨胀。
膝盖弯下，
锋刃筑成栅栏，
障碍随之滋生。
肌肉在骨上扭结，
手杖迟到，
跛行勉强与膏药妥协。
关节是触角，
在春天调频。
冬天只剩静电，
白色噪声。
关节、衔接、折叠，
皆为阻滞，
一个阻滞的网络。
当泥土干透，
掘开它。
清风可避，
水源要近，
光要平稳，
土要疏松。
待第一片真叶显露，
翻译它，
抬头，间苗。
在这寒冷的耕护时光，
手指如卷须缠绕寒枝，
拳中捧着新生的球茎。
它们终将化作粮食，
从大地星群般的喧响里
被抚起。
我们以专注穿过盲目，
以铁锹松开深厚的压实。
这冷时光
有从季节之轮跌落的危险。
于是我们醒来去耕护。
耕护是关照，
关照是回应，
是为光、风、水与绿意
清出一方空间。
鸟已归来吗？
蜜蜂是否待飞？
蚯蚓能安眠否？
寒意可否重返深土？
白色乳液裹覆创口，
石灰与水抵御虫蛀。
裂缝被捆缚，
脆弱之下楔入支撑。
那曾召来的拐杖，
如今只化作虚影，
高悬于前行之上。

I. TENDING

The difficulty of reading the word "warbling" backwards.

What about the timid?
What about the risk?
The fringe, the margin is the first thing planted.
Taking the bought body out of it
Is putting the breathed body into it.
Ask myself: Can I listen? Can I listen?
Until my voice melts away.
Delimit the page for planting.
Swelling as one of the effects
Of delimited juiciness.
Oh my bended knee.
The edge has been used to fence,
To grow an obstacle.
The muscles gnarl about the bone.
The cane arrives late at the compromise that is the hobble,
second fiddle to the poultice.
Coyuntural
Articulaciones
Antennae to tune in Spring.
Winter is bad reception, static, white noise.
Winter is a stoppage.
The body's bendy parts, it's joints, it's dovetailing, are stoppages.
Network of stoppages.

Worked when dry enough to dig
Worked with enough time
to be taken back down into.
Find the light.
Better if its level,
sure soil drains.
Water near.
Provide refuge from the wind.
Clear what’s above away,
Tend the soil,
Break it up.
Bring nutrients
not compacted.
Several hours’ worth of light
Warmth and water.
Wait through germination,
translate at first true leaves.
Head and thin.

In this cold's tending time,
when our fingered tendrils
curl about cold limbs
in fists of new-knuckled tubers, bulbed,
that later feed returns,
caressed from the ground’s constellate noise.

We thread the harsh blindness
with attentiveness. We dig
to soften the deep denseness,
packed by aimless trudging.

This cold time
is in danger of falling
off the wheel of seasons.

We awaken to tend to it.
To tend is to care for.
To care for
is to lavish
attention
on something
and respond subtly
to help it restore itself.

Subtle gestures
clear a space for
light, air, water, and greening.

Are there birds here yet?
Will they be ready to go on?
Are the bees ready to buzz forth?
Can the worms rest now?
Is it time to begin folding up the clouds?
Has the chill received permission
to slip back into the deep earth?

White latex
wound-dressing
knee-high knee-high.
Lime and water,
hard against borers.
Bound from splits and cracks,
wedged ‘neath brittle,
when awaited retention
called forth a crutch
now but a blur aloft
above further walking.

诗歌赏析：

乔治·马里奥·安赫尔·金特罗（George Mario Angel Quintero）【耕护】是一首寓意深厚、层次繁复的作品。它将农业的耕种与护理转化为关于身体、伤口、关照与存在的隐喻，语言既充满质感，也带着哲思。把农耕经验转化为诗学隐喻，将自然、生理与存在融为一体。语言中既有冷冽的质感（“锋刃”“阻滞”“静电”），也有抚慰的温情（“拳中捧着新生的球茎”“白色乳液裹覆创口”）；
最终提出“耕护是关照，关照是回应”，赋予诗篇一种伦理哲学的终极落点。它不是纯抒情的诗，而是一种寓言式、沉思式的诗歌，既像是农事的记录，也像是一种存在论的冥想。（佩英）

Editorials：

George Mario Angel Quintero’s Cultivation and Care is a symbolically rich and layered poem that reimagines agricultural labor as a metaphor for the body, wounds, and existence. It fuses natural, physiological, and ontological dimensions, balancing austerity (“blade,” “obstruction,” “static”) with tenderness (“fingers cradling a newborn bulb,” “white latex covering the wound”). The culminating assertion that “cultivation is care, care is response” situates the poem within an ethical-philosophical horizon. More than lyrical expression, it unfolds as allegory and meditation, at once a record of agrarian practice and an ontological reflection.（By Christine Chen)