作者簡介：

殷曉媛，畢業(yè)于北京第二外國語學(xué)院日語系，現(xiàn)就職于日立集團(tuán)。曾發(fā)表過《十渡之幻》、《心鏡鵑啼痕》、《和服怨》、《一期一會》、《BAD》《Die Berliner Mauer》《斑斕瘟疫》《Exclusivist in Chang’an》《蒙太奇底片》等幾十篇中、英、日文作品。2002年，在中國國際廣播電臺日文頻道“我的家鄉(xiāng)”欄目發(fā)表文章，2006年獲得《讀者》原創(chuàng)版第十一期評刊活動二等獎。現(xiàn)已創(chuàng)作兩部待出版的長篇小說。

Twilight

The roaming child wouldn’t let his sorrow show,

When fragments of watery blue sublimed into the afterglow.

He was told twilight stems from every pink toe,

That prints its infant lemon-green on reflection of a rainbow.

They say twilight is a net weaved by mayflies,

When the florescence of their transient lives defeats sunrise.

Then their wings shatter and sink into the ocean’s eyes,

That’s why there seems to be more stars than in the skies.

But for him twilight is a candle in a rosewood tray,

Where along branching fissures tears of wax wind their way.

During white nights he was blinded with pearly beams of ray,

That once through Ice age passions and hopes to relay.

In the canal of eventide his heart quietly bleeds,

Sitting on a vein of mussels that towards terminal leads.

Gold in the sand under his feet is daylight’s seeds,

Which will grow into a lucent curtain of flaming weeds.

創(chuàng)作靈感：黃昏，是一個哲學(xué)思維和文學(xué)幻象橫空出世的時刻。她朝向每個人的都是一張不同的面孔，所以每個日落時分，光影彌漫的玄妙空寂、日升月恒的明媚輕靈、晝夜更替的輪回流轉(zhuǎn)，都會深深震撼那些境遇迥異，卻同樣有著夢幻色彩的心靈。除了一個熱愛黃昏的靈魂，我還有一顆每每跟隨著夕照參差、華燈吐蕊、烏鵲還巢、燭影斑駁而行走不止的心。日暮或許難免給人一絲頹唐消極的印象，但它更是詩意與狂想萌生、浪漫和魅惑共棲、懷想與頓悟煥發(fā)的瞬間。這是就為何我以一個孩子的眼睛對這一華麗落幕進(jìn)行了長久的注視和冥想。

Imprisoned

When the eaves were frozen over with rime ice,

He played his cello through starry nights to the dancing mice.

Regards it more vulgar to satisfy their worldly hunger with rice,

Than to seduce gamblers with a dirty dice.

On left little finger wears a ring carved out of jade,

Which hand hibernated in a white glove for a decade.

Some guess his soul once had to through despair wade,

Goaded by a stony-heart or a sharp blade.

Before spring rain covered his window with sapphire drops,

The dreamy waltz of his fingers on piano keys never stops.

He said unique prayers; he listens to classical, jazz but no pops,

He occasionally visits galleries, museums and antique shops.

A stern woman brings him twice a month Pu'er tea,

From across an ocean of surging leaves underneath a gingko tree.

She holds the rusty key to his gate yet unable to set him free,

For his solitude is an irrevocable decree.

No grief, no surprise, no insanity, no fears.

No controversy, no sermon, no throb of pain, no tears.

At both superstition and corporal pleasures he sneers,

And squandered without mercy his black and white years.

創(chuàng)作靈感：孤獨(dú)，在現(xiàn)代社會，似乎是一種沿著每個人骨髓生長的痕跡，雖然它對每個人的內(nèi)涵和外延不盡相同。它是月下的吟嘯、是弦間的緘默、是樽前落淚、山巔放歌，是這首詩中男主人公潔癖一般從不脫下的白手套，也是稔熟茶香卻不懂人情、在銀杏落葉迷航一生中的女主角那一壺未沾凡間煙火的普洱茶。或許人并不喜歡畫地為牢，只是不知道孤獨(dú)的影子所能覆蓋的領(lǐng)域是如此之寬，以致自己在不知不覺的清高和疏離中就成為了一個無名的囚徒。

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（英語點(diǎn)津姍姍編輯）