汉诗英译（海外发表）：城里卖簸箕的人

城里卖簸箕的人

小雪，向晚，北湖路锅盔摊旁

我与一个卖簸箕的人擦肩而过

这雪夜，城市里，要个簸箕做什么

装灯火太窄，装乡愁不够深

若是置于窗台，接一夜雪摆在客厅

也缺少红梅来陪衬

我咬一口锅盔，他就喊一声“卖簸箕”

他软绵绵的声音让我感到不安，就如同

我平白无故咬缺了他的簸箕

其实，簸箕真的可以拿来装雪

在老家，这时节，母亲已熬了麻糖

切了糍粑，都码在簸箕上风干

簸箕挨着年关的草垛，远远望去

雪一样白

---原刊于《诗刊》2019年10月下半月刊

The Winnowing-fan Seller in the Town

Snow is falling thick on the twilight

When I come across a winnowing-fan seller

By the side of a pancake booth.

On a snowy evening in the town,

What is the good of a winnowing-fan?

Too narrow to hold the city lights,

Too shallow to hold my homesickness.

If placed in the window sill

To hold enough snowflakes overnight,

It still lacks a red plum blossom to foil its beauty.

Each time I take a bite of the pancake,

He gives forth a sound: “winnowing-fans for sale.”

His soft voice makes me feel guilty, feel as if

I have bitten his winnowing-fan without cause.

A winnowing-fan certainly did hold snowflakes—

In my hometown, before the Spring Festival Eve

Mother had made sesame candy and glutinous rice cakes.

She put the dainty snacks in a winnowing-fan

Next to a haystack to dry; from afar

I would mistake them for white snowflakes at times.

*英文版发表于美国Innisfree 诗刊2020年秋季卷

http://authormark.com/artman2/publish/Innisfree_31WEI_ZHENG.shtml （作品链接）