当年喜欢这首诗，把玩良久不禁翻译了一下，今天让chatgpt又翻译了一下。
源头：一滴水泅渡了两千年
黑朗 (于2016)
一小滴雨辗转了两千年。有时睡在深海，有时跑在大江大河
一小滴泪有时躲在眼窝，有时爬上云朵
来自身体内外的流淌：有时是小情怀，有时是大天下
——哦！临近端午，有些泛滥的水
它们不懂山河的疼痛。还把一叶龙舟当令箭，吆喝着，摆弄着
让本该平静的水溅起浪花
——哦！这个端午，也有些芝麻绿豆的错觉
它们牵着一株植物的命，从黑夜走到白昼，从生走到死
那些粽米：从高空抛起，又被深水淹没
五月疼出了一些声音
不听蝉鸣脱壳，不听啼血杜鹃，不听蛙鼓噪舌……
在空荡荡的天体
我们听见：一道闪电撕裂另一道闪电，一声雷搬动另一声雷
Source of river – A drop of water swam across two thousand years
Original by Hei Lang / Translated by laojian
A small drop of rain has tossed about for two thousand years,
Sometimes sleeping in the deep ocean, sometimes running in big rivers
A small drop of tear sometimes hid in eye-sockets, and sometimes ascended to the clouds
Flows circulating through in and outside of my body, sometimes are a snug bosom of feelings
And sometimes are the expanding land under heaven.
-- Oh! With the advent of Duan Wu Festival, there were bodies of flooding water
That have no idea of the sufferings of my homeland.
They took a dragon-boat as the token of authority, making a big fuss,
And make a splash where water should have been left still.
-- Oh! This Duan Wu Festival, there are trivial misconceptions
They lead the life of a plant, walking from morning till night, from life to death
Those leaf-wrapped rice – being tossed in the upper air, yet ending up submerged in the deep water
May has been made groans in pain
Listening not to cicada’s crying for sloughing, to cuckoo’s lamenting, and to frog’s croaking
In the hollow of a heavenly body
We heard – a bolt of lightning split another bolt, and a thunder displaced another thunder
Chatgpt 的翻译
A Drop of Water Has Drifted for Two Thousand Years
by Hei Lang (2016)
A tiny drop of rain has wandered for two thousand years.
Sometimes it sleeps in the deep sea, sometimes it races through great rivers.
A tiny tear sometimes hides in an eye socket, sometimes climbs onto a cloud.
Flowing from within and without the body:
Sometimes a tender sentiment, sometimes a vast world.
— Oh! As the Dragon Boat Festival nears, some waters begin to overflow.
They do not understand the pain of mountains and rivers.
They treat a dragon boat like a military token,
Shouting, posturing—
Making once-calm waters splash into waves.
— Oh! This Dragon Boat Festival also brings some petty illusions.
They drag along the fate of a plant,
Walking from night into day, from life into death.
Those glutinous rice dumplings:
Tossed from high above, then drowned in deep water.
May bleeds out some sounds.
It does not listen to the cicada shedding its shell,
Nor to the cuckoo crying blood,
Nor to the frogs drumming their tongues in noise...
In the empty vastness of the cosmos,
We hear:
One bolt of lightning tearing through another,
One clap of thunder moving another.
