诗人曰：凡留下的终不能飞翔

海外文苑

The above was published in New York newspaper "Compact News" edition#890

本期发刊纽约报纸“综合新闻报”第890期

谢赫·蒂迪亚内·盖耶（Cheikh Tidiane Gaye）博士，出生于塞内加尔，后入籍意大利，是常驻米兰的哲学家、诗人、作家及出版人。其创办 Kanaga 出版社，并率先将利奥波德·塞达尔·桑戈尔的作品译成意大利语，推动黑人性（Négritude）思想与跨文化对话。他创办多个国际诗歌及文学奖项，是和平大使、诺贝尔和平奖候选人，并获法国艺术与文学骑士勋章。其创作与文化实践致力于诗歌、和平、正义及不同文明间的交流与友爱。

文字飞翔

焚去无名、无根的诗句，
筑起押韵的城堡，仿若碑铭；
掩埋索然无味的书页，
不让未可知的明日作证。
悬起千般不愿再听的声响，
任其滋生哀伤韵律。

夜里，星辰含笑，
月光照临，请迟迟未升的太阳
在清晨再苏醒——
凡留下的，终不能飞翔。

元音的纯净，目光温柔，
亲吻新生儿的芬芳；
火焰温暖灵魂，
利剑刺入思想；
我的每一页，都唤醒冬至与夏至，
唤醒思考与言说的力量，

托起智慧殿堂中沉重的时间。

纵使文字终将飞逝，
仍有一样会留下：
那唯一的诗之真理。

Writings fly

I burned verses, with no name, no roots
To build castles of rhymes, erected as monuments,
I buried as dead books with insipid pages,
so as not to ask uncertain tomorrows to bear witness.
I have hung a thousand sounds I no longer wish to hear,
For they spawn mournful rhythms.

In the night I told the stars to smile,
asked the moon to shine, and the sun not not rise
to awaken in the morning,
Because what remains does not fly.

It is the pure sound of vowels, the sweetness of a look,
that kisses the scent of newborn babes.
It will be the fire that warms the spirit,
the sword that strikes the mind,
each page of mine awakens the solstices,
the strength to think and to speak,
To lift the weight of time in the temple of wisdom.
Though writings fly, one will remain:
the one of poetic truth.

我是学徒

我是人生的学徒。
栖身黑夜，静候风暴来临。
心灯 散出力量，
使思想坚韧的力量。

思绪向燃烧的树影求索，
移去路上枯枝，
它们遂化作火焰。
叶片如我的影子，
织入夜之小提琴的琴音，
叩响记忆的肺腑。

耕种一座花园，播下字母，
以清水浇灌土地，不施肥料；
让七弦琴开出花朵，
引领我重新寻得的脚步。

举起弓、铁与剑，
成为一个人，一个向黑暗探寻的诗人；
舌尖含蜜的诗人，
目光拥抱无垠的诗人，
懂得爱、深知所爱，
并捕捉爱情气息的诗人。

拾起每一个音节，
将每一道韵脚悬挂于天地间，
只为筑起一条路——
让它歌唱，
而非呐喊。

I am the apprentice

In life, everyone is an apprentice.
I dwell in the night, ready to welcome the hurricane.
The lamp of my heart radiates strength,
a force that strengthens my thought.
My thought courts the shade of burning trees,
the dry branches I remove from my path light a fire.
The leaves, like my shadow,
are woven into the notes of the night's violins,
beating the breath of memory.

I cultivate a garden, I plant letters,
I water the soil, without fertilizer,
And I make the lyre bloom that will guide my newfound steps.
I will raise the bow, the iron, the sword,
I will be the man, the poet who seeks the darkness,
the poet with the honeyed tongue,
the poet whose gaze embraces infinity,

he poet who loves, who knows he loves and catches the breath of love.
I take up and hang up every syllable,
every rhyme, in every place,
to build a path that sings,
not screams.

暗影中的祈祷

向黑暗祈祷，为和平歌唱；
探入苍穹之手，
以寂静滋养梦想。

星辰——见证破碎的往昔，
向我低语秘密：失落世界的
染血的大地呼唤着我，
预言一个未来：被古老苦难标记。

脸颊仍被炽烈的泪水淹没，
却浇不灭肌肤下燃烧的火焰。
寻觅暗影，庇护我之思想，
追逐风曾猛烈吹拂过回声。

再次潜入黑暗，寻找一束光，
沉默的石缝间，
拾得失落的词语。

大地依旧回响，往昔的哭喊——
一支反抗之歌，
一诺希望。

俯身于海前，
见证梦的来处；
任潮汐洗去身上的尘世。

每一滴水，
有一个未来重新诞生。
苍穹之下，
暗影终将化作光——
照见那唯有灵魂
才见的真相。

Prayer in the shadows

I pray before the darkness, to sing peace,
I burrow into the hands of heaven to feed my dreams of silences.
The stars, witnesses of a shattered past,
whisper to me secrets of a lost world.
The voice of bloodied lands calls to me,
and foretells a future marked by ancient suffering.
Cheeks still flooded with fierce tears,
cannot extinguish the fire that burns beneath my skin.
I seek shadows to protect my thoughts,
echoes of a time when the wind blew more fiercely.

I burrow into the darkness, searching for a light,
and find words lost among the stones of silence.
The earth still rings with the cries of the past,
a song of revolt, a promise of hope.
I bow before the sea, witness to the dream,
and let its waves wash the dust of the world from me.

For, in every drop, a future is reborn.
And under the skies, shadows turn to the light,

of a truth that only the soul can see.

穆罕默德·卡扎菲·马苏德（Mohammed Al Gaddafi Masoud），利比亚诗人、作家，毕业于的黎波里的贾迈勒·丁·米拉迪学院，获戏剧专业文凭。他出版过多部诗集及对话作品，作品被译成多种语言，并发表于国际文学期刊及选集。曾获意大利弗朗切斯科·贾姆彼特里国际文学奖二等奖，在国际文坛日益受到关注。

赤裸于笃定

午睡时分，
她掀开目光的帷幕，
让悲伤尽情袒露。

莱拉不肯让镜子

辨认什么相同，什么不同。

她融进清亮的雨水，
在天边笑成一团；
她知道，
狼的吻，便是危险。

一位骑士最先赶来，
提着一篮篮神话，
把孤独轻轻拂去。

啊，名字逃离了自己的名字，
问题也终于回到

最初发问的地方。

我伏在秋天耳畔低语：
躲起来吧，
别惊扰四季的安宁。

雨为大地缝好一件衣裳，
留给那些
赤裸而笃定的人。

Naked with Certainty

One nap-time,
she pulled back the curtains of her glare,
let her sadness go naked.
Layla doesn’t give mirrors a chance
to catch what’s alike and not alike.
She became one with the clear rain,
curled into laughter on the skyline;
she knew the wolf’s kiss was danger.
First to arrive, a knight
carrying baskets of myths,
wiping away aloneness.
Oh, the running away of names from their names,
and the end of questions where they start.
I whispered in autumn’s ear,
“Hide from the season’s calm.”
Rain stitches the earth a shirt
for those naked with certainty.

(English tanslation Dr . Salwa Goda)

放下牧杖

放下你的牧杖吧，
别再摆出那副
光鲜体面的样子。
别再兜圈子，
别再跌跌撞撞，
从梦里走出来。

你挥着那根杖，
赶着一群孩子，
口口声声立下神圣的誓言——
可只有当悲剧走到尽头，
它才会开花。

你拿众人的信仰
给自己织了一件长袍，
把阳光一针一线缝进
那些动听的谎话。

当你沉醉其中，
沙漠会露出它真正的面目；
而我把那一切化成梦，
好让你献上一朵玫瑰，
送给那个时代——
那个从未见过你出生的时代。

没有什么会向你许诺。
你已经走到了尽头。

幻想托不起你，
颜色也遮不住你。

你不需要藏身的帽子，
你需要的是一顶头盔。

你的影子已经变了，
而你的不同，
让你成了一个
捉摸不定的水银谜。

啊，
无边之子。

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 colour hides you.
You don’t need a hiding cap,
you need a helmet.
Your reflection has changed,

a slippery, mercury question.
Oh, child of the Boundless.

(English Translated by Dr. Salwa Goda)

（本期所有文字均获作者授权）