诗人曰：母月，开花前先深埋自身于土

海外文苑

本刊发表于纽约[综合新闻报]第866期It was published in New York 'Compact News' Edition#866 翻译：佩英（Translated by Christine Chen)绘画：迈克尔·希斯洛普（Painting by Michael Hislop） <h5>迈克尔·希斯洛普（Michael Hislop），居悉尼，生于印度，拥政治、国际关系及法学博士学位，致力文学与绘画，关注人类、历史与形而上学，创办形而上学校及卡维亚·基肖尔国际出版社。</h5> 花开 宇宙的子宫， 我们的母亲， 她的形象在月光中映现—— 母月。 这是亘古的真理： 连大地的种子 都懂得，明白—— 花开之前， 必先深埋自身于土。 A Bloom The Universal Womb Our Mother Her Likeness reflected Mother Moon This a Truth Even the seeds of the Earth Know and Understand A Bloom must first bury Before becomes The Blossom 宇宙之瞬 瞬间…… 一个微微荡开的瞬间， 如时间的涟漪， 在你体内流淌， 在你心间扩散。 记忆浮现—— 万物的始与终， 皆在你之中流动。 Cosmic Moment Moments… A Moment Rippling As Time In your Body In your Mind Memories Of All Beginning and Ending In You <div>漫步</div><div> </div>没有比遇见光亮更闪耀的喜悦， 脚步踏过， 迎接第一缕晨光。 更欢愉的， 是遇见同路的先行者—— 古老的树， 与我共摇， 低语的叶片吟唱着 他的尊严，她的恩宠。 然而，我心中最爱， 是与阿巴同行—— 我的父亲， 飞翔在鸽影之上， 怀抱羔羊。 A Walk There is no shinier delight Than to meet the Bright Feet trodden Greeting first Light And more cheer Is to find fellow pioneer Ancient tree Swaying with Me Whispering leaves intoning His Majesty, Her Grace Yet always My Favourite Walking with Aba My Father Above a Dove Cradling The Lamb 鸟鸣 鸟儿轻唱， 唧唧，唧唧， 清脆跳跃的清晨号角。 它与我一同醒来， 向世界低语—— 欢快而抒情， 无忧无虑， 无论阳光灿烂或雨丝飘落。 每天重复那亘古的故事， 鸣声化作旋律， 与自然合唱同行。 甜美如天使的颂歌， 盖亚的和声轻轻回荡， 永恒的曲调， 在大地的音色中悠远流淌。 圣哉，圣哉，圣哉—— 我们与万物共颂其名。 Birdsong Birds asinging Chirp Chirp Chirpily Chirp Early morning reveille Awakening with Me Telling the World Happily and Lyrically No worries or cares Sunshine or Rainy Everyday retelling The Timeless Story Trilling Melodies With Nature’s Choir Sweetly Seraphic Are Gaia’s Harmonies Eternal Tunes In Earthy Tones Holy, Holy, Holy Sung by We and Them 老家伙，老友计 我有幸称你为友， 我的兄弟， 老家伙，老友记。 古老如世， 我与你相识无数生世。 岁月在你脸上刻下沟壑， 长发与胡须缠绕时光。 你的眼，黑曜石般深邃； 你的声，丝滑却带轻蔑。 我常去，如孙般虔诚， 每次造访都是仪式。 你的家是我的家， 老家伙，老友记。 跨越无尽岁月的兄弟情， 心灵契合，难以言说。 你展开款待， 我栖于你的羽翼下， 安然无恙。 共饮友谊盛宴， 交谈无所保留—— 老家伙，老友记。 告别总是太短， 遥远的责任呼唤我。 忧伤涌上心头， 难舍跨世纪的兄弟。 但我心底微笑， 坚信无疑： 我必将再次相见， 在无限的永恒里， 老家伙，老友记。 Old Man, Old Friend I have the privilege To call as My Friend My Brother Old Man, My Friend Old, Old, Old Ancient to be more precise I have known him for Lifetimes Old Man, Old Friend The aeons and The Ages Tell upon his face Lining the cracks and crevices Tangling in his draped locks and beards When I gaze at him His features tell tales of epochs and centuries His eyes glimmer hard, not with light but obsidian stone And his voice is silken reason, dripping disdain Old Man, Old Friend I visit him often Dutifully like a grandson I have done this so many times before The habit, A need It feels normal to do it many many times more Every visit is Ritual I attend bearing My Gifts I’m always Welcome His Home is My Home Old Man, My Friend Brotherhood over Infinity Can you even comprehend? The emotional Unity My Brother, My Friend The Old Man Welcomes Me Unfurling his impeccable hospitality I sit under his wings here No harm can come to Me We settle into Our Rites Communion, Our Conviviality We talk without secrets We are as Friends be Old Man, My Friend But far too short a visit for Me For distant responsibility calls Me And as I bid farewell I Am hit with sad melancholy It is hard, so very hard To farewell My Brother Of Lifetimes across centuries Old Man, Old Friend But I smile deep inside For I know with solid certainty That I will always see him again For Infinite Eternity Old Man, My Friend <div>诗歌赏析：</div><div>迈克尔·希斯洛普这组诗作展现了深邃的宇宙观与灵性美感，从自然、生命到亲情与神圣体验，贯穿着对万物本源的敬畏与细腻观察。《花开》以宇宙母性的象征揭示生命的孕育与生长规律；《宇宙之瞬》捕捉时间与存在的流动与内在共鸣；《漫步》通过人与自然、祖先与神性的互动，表达心灵的宁静与喜悦；《鸟鸣》以音律描绘自然的律动与神圣的赞美。语言简洁而富有象征意味，意象明晰而灵动，兼具哲思与感性美，是现代诗中兼具宇宙意识与人文情怀的佳作。（佩英）</div><div>Editorials:</div><div>Michael Hislop's poems reveal profound cosmic vision and spiritual sensitivity, exploring nature, life, family, and the sacred. A Bloom symbolizes life’s growth; Cosmic Moment captures time’s flow; A Walk celebrates harmony with nature and ancestors; Birdsong renders nature’s melody. Concise, symbolic language and vivid imagery blend philosophy with emotive beauty.(By Christine Chen)</div><div> </div> <h5>里玛·萨尔曼·哈姆扎（Rima Salman Hamza），叙利亚作家，哲学硕士，毕业于高等音乐学院。任《文化世界》主编、希腊维尔萨拉学院顾问及《国际民族报》英文版编辑。著有四部诗集、短篇小说集、一部长篇及多部评论著作，作品译成五种语言，刊登于多国报刊，并入选多部国际文集与百科全书</h5> <div>如果</div><div> </div>如果太阳不再需要被解释， 你羽翼的音色，不过是一层易融的蜡？ 你还会沉入诗的深处， 拾起希望的碎片吗？ 你可愿耗尽一生， 只为驯服一朵浪花？ 如果迷惘将你彻底淹没， 直至你抵达 那片染着风之颜色的自由？ 你会押上什么—— 你的伤痕， 还是那匹盲目欢愉的骏马？ 如果—— 贫穷向贫穷宣战， 只为在荒诞的安达卢西亚 复辟失落的王国？ 请为梦想守住它初始的声调， 免得灰烬 终究沦为笑谈。 如果—— 你焚毁所有情书？ 棕榈是否在你虚荣的镜前 剪落长发？ 带来百合吧—— 为诗的身体覆上洁白的裹衣布，或别的…… 如果—— 闪电拒绝宽恕雷霆的背叛？ 疯狂如野马纵横原野？ 你会下令刺杀太阳吗？ 你会吟唱迷雾吗？ 又如果，如果，如果—— 你困于“哈里发之门”的纷争？ 信仰被拍卖， 只剩尘封的经卷。 你会为被屠戮的田野立法？ 你会祈求雨顺风调？ 我在掌心的凹处 埋下一枚“如果”， 连同它携带的瘟疫， 直到指间 繁花盛放。 然而—— 每一朵自“如果”中绽开的花 它的甘露 终究回到一声叹息里 回到诗里。 <div>What if</div><div> </div>the sun bore no interpretation, and the tone of your wings was wax? Would you indulge in poetry, and the fragments of hope? Would you give a lifetime to tame a wave? What if bewilderment submerged you, until you reached a freedom hued in the wind’s own color? On what would you wager—your wounds, your horses of blind joy? What if poverty assaulted poverty, to restore its vanished kingdom in the Andalusia of the absurd? Keep for your dream its intonation, lest its ashes take the shape of a joke. And what if you renounced your love letters? Would the palms cut their hair before the mirrors of your vanity? Bring the lilies-and shroud the body of the poem, or (...). What if your lightning withheld pardon from the treachery of thunder? And your madness galloped like a wild horse? Would you authorize the assassination of suns? Would you chant the maqām of fog? And what, what, what if you were entangled in the sedition of the Caliph’s Gate? The auction of faith is but an ancient scripture Would you legalize the slaughter of fields? Would you plead for the rain to be withheld? I buried within the hollow of my palm a single if, and the plague it carried, Untill my fingers blossomed with manifold joys. But alas, the nectar of each flower that bloomed from what if returned to play once more in the sigh, <div>and in the poem.</div><div> </div>她最后的芬姜 清晨， 以一口苦涩 拭去夜色残留在唇上的痕迹； 转动芬姜， 仿佛翻阅记忆里路人的面孔， 低头读那杯底的纹路—— 像凝视命运， 却始终不敢发问。 正午， 任芬姜冷却， 如同一场迟来的梦； 以孤独的指尖 沿着杯沿缓缓描摹， 设想无数可能， 却条条通向虚无。 黄昏， 将咖啡煮得浓稠， 黑如她的秘密； 凝望升起的雾气， 看见一张面孔 自虚空中浮现， 又渐渐融化—— 如同往昔的一切。 夜里， 让芬姜空杯—— 像她的心。 每一口都是一个故事， 每一道旋纹都是一场命定。 凝视裂痕与其中的隐喻， 在芬姜与唇舌之间 书写人生。 与咖啡——成一体的女子。 她燃烧……重塑。 她融化……再生。 Her Last Finjan In the morning, she wipes the night off her lips with a bitter sip, turns the finjan as if flipping through the faces of passersby in her memory, reads the bottom like someone staring into her fate—without daring to ask. At noon, she lets the finjan grow cold like a dream that arrived too late, traces its rim with the fingers of solitude, thinking of many possibilities, all leading to nothing. In the evening, she pours the coffee thick, black as her secrets, gazes at the rising steam, sees a face emerging from absence, then melting… like everything else once did. At night, she leaves the finjan empty— like her heart. Each sip a story, each swirl in the finjan a destiny. She contemplates the cracks and the metaphors, writing her life between the finjan and her lips. She and the coffee… one woman. She burns… and reshapes. She melts… and is born again. Finjan: A small handleless coffee cup traditionally used in Arab culture, often linked to rituals of fortune-telling and storytelling through the reading of coffee grounds. <div>诗歌赏析：</div><div>里玛·萨尔曼·哈姆扎这组诗作以“如果”和“芬姜”为线索，探讨存在、自由、命运与内心的微妙体验。《如果》以哲思式的提问与意象铺陈人生、信仰与梦想的可能与挑战，充满张力与想象；《她最后的芬姜》以细腻的日常动作与咖啡意象，映射记忆、孤独与自我重生。语言诗意、意象凝练，兼具哲理深度与感性美，是现代诗中兼具思辨与心灵洞察的佳作。（佩英）</div><div>Editorials:</div><div>Rima Salman Hamza's poems, connected through What If and Her Last Finjan, explore existence, freedom, fate, and subtle inner experiences. What If uses philosophical questioning and vivid imagery to unfold life, faith, and the possibilities and challenges of dreams, full of tension and imagination. Her Last Finjan employs delicate daily gestures and the coffee cup as symbols, reflecting memory, solitude, and self-rebirth. The language is lyrical and the imagery precise, blending philosophical depth with emotive beauty. These works exemplify modern poetry that harmonizes reflective thought with profound insight into the human spirit.(By Christine Chen)</div><div> </div> <h5>穆罕默德·加达菲·马苏德（Muhammad Gaddafi Masoud ，known as Abu Salah），1978年生于利比亚加里扬，的黎波里米拉迪学院戏剧毕业，著有抒情诗《We Woke Up to Joy》和对话集《My Dialogues with Them》，作品多语出版，2024入选安吉拉·科斯塔意大利语全球诗选。</h5> 放下牧羊杖 放下那根光亮的牧羊杖， 你这光鲜的行者。 别再盘旋， 别再盲目跌出梦境。 你挥舞的棍子 指向孩子的群影， 立下的圣誓， 只在你的悲剧盛开时绽放。 你用民众的信仰织成斗篷， 把阳光缝进精美的谎言。 当狂喜淹没你， 沙漠裸露真容， 而我将其化作梦， 让你献上玫瑰 给那个从未见你诞生的时代。 没有什么能向你承诺， 你已越过终点。 没有幻想支撑你， 没有色彩遮掩你。 你不需要隐匿的帽子， 你需要一顶头盔。 你的倒影已变， 异于常人的你， 成了滑腻如水银的谜题。 啊，无垠之子的孩子。 Leave the Crook Put down that shepherd's crook, you with the polished air. Stop your circling, your blind stumbles out of the dream. That stick you wave at a flock of children, making a holy vow that only blooms when your tragedy peaks. You weave your cloak from a people’s faith, stitching sunbeams to pretty lies. When you’re lost in ecstasy, the desert shows you its face and I make it into dreams, so you can offer a rose to the era that never saw you born. Nothing promises you anything. You’re past the end. No fantasy holds you up, no color hides you. You don’t need a hiding cap, you need a helmet. Your reflection has changed, and being different has made you a slippery, mercury question. Oh, child of the Boundless. <div> </div><div> </div>文字的麦田 雨升起， 把房屋架在云端， 把光编成椅子。 天使犁过幸福的夜， 在铜质脱谷场上 播下歌声， 敲打文字的麦穗。 Wheat of Words Rain draws up houses in the clouds, chairs made of light. Angels plow the night of happiness. They plant songs in the brass threshing-floors, beating the wheat of words. <div> </div><div> </div><div>叹息剪断的藤蔓</div><div> </div>是谁将你带入我的世界， 这美丽的谎？ 是谁用诱惑的疑问为你着裳， 在风暴里搅动， 直到你化作一场约定， 铺满我的眼睑， 因无眠而沉重—— 我粉颊的孩子。 你的脸怎能与太阳同高， 你——他人的罪？ 当你在他们的宁静里咆哮， 而他们只露出善意的獠牙， 你让泪水在我的街道上作响， 用轻巧却野心勃勃的伎俩 攀上我的平静。 你披上伤口， 让内里的痛开到巅峰， 血脉割裂自己的动脉， 你哭出炽热的煤火， 你躲进我的沉默， 希望它为你留下 一条被叹息剪断的藤蔓。 A Tendril Cut with Sighs Who put you in my world, a beautiful lie? Who dressed you in tempting questions, stirred you up in a storm until you became an appointment spread across my eyelid, heavy from no sleep, my pink-cheeked child? How can your face be level with the sun, you who are other people's sin? When you roar inside their quiet and they show the fangs of their goodness. You make tears ring through my streets, climb my peace with a light, ambitious trick. You put on the wound so the hurt in you hits its peak, your own veins cut their arteries, you cry hot coals, you hide in my silence, hoping it gives you a tendril cut down with sighs. <div>诗歌赏析：</div><div>穆罕默德·加达菲·马苏德这组诗作展现了作者对权力、信仰、语言与情感的深刻洞察。《放下牧羊杖》揭示权力与责任的悲剧性，光与谎言交织，人物如水银般难以捉摸；《文字的麦田》以雨、光与天使的意象描绘语言的丰盈与创作的神圣；《叹息剪断的藤蔓》则通过个人情感与痛苦映射外界纷扰，意象浓烈且情感张力十足。语言精炼而富象征，意境宏大而细腻，兼具哲思与抒情美感，是现代诗中思想深度与艺术表现力兼备的佳作。（佩英）</div><div>Editorials:</div><div>Abu Salah's poems explore power, faith, language, and emotion with striking insight. Leave the Crook reveals the tragedy of authority and elusiveness of the self; Wheat of Words celebrates the sacred richness of language through rain, light, and angels; A Tendril Cut with Sighs channels personal pain and turmoil with intense imagery. The language is precise, symbolic, and lyrical, the imagery both vivid and delicate, blending philosophical reflection with emotional depth. These works exemplify modern poetry that balances thought and artistry, presenting profound human experience and spiritual resonance with elegance, intensity, and enduring imaginative power.(By Christine Chen)</div>