At the Bodhisattva Ridge service area, 2400 meters above sea level,
The mountains on both sides comfort each other…
Zeng Meng, an eminent poet from China, shares his poetry
Zeng Meng, hailing from Panzhihua City of Sichuan province, was born in the 1970s. He has published five poetry collections, including The Homeland, The World Suddenly Falls Silent, and Endless Treasury. His works have been included in various anthologies, and some of his pieces have been published in Malaysia, Germany, France, the United States, Canada, and Australia. He is the founder of Southern Art, a large-scale public welfare website. He has won awards such as the Contemporary International Chinese Literature Award and the Top Ten Poets of Cover News. He is a high-level talent in Panzhihua City and vice-chairman of the Panzhihua Critics Association.
曾蒙，上个世纪七十年代出生。著有诗集《故国》《世界突然安静》《无尽藏》等五部，作品入选多种选本，部分作品在马来西亚、德国、法国、美国、加拿大、澳大利亚发表。大型公益性网站《南方艺术》创始人。曾获当代国际汉语文学大奖、封面新闻十大诗人等奖项。攀枝花市高层次人才、攀枝花市评论家协会副主席。
Translated by Ma Yongbo
Bodhisattva Ridge
Bodhisattva RidgeThis is the chill blown by the immortal wind,
Turning the entire Liangshan into a battlefield of winds.
Rough, and wild.
The plateau I know originated from a gust of wind
That blew, and the scorching of sunlight.
It’s even hard to tell the wind’s forbearance from its obstruction,
Every blow carries the shout of mountains,
And a sharp push against the back. So powerful,
That the plateau, time and again in the name of flame,
Refuses the bitter cold.
What I can accept is the passion of an innocent heart.
At the Bodhisattva Ridge service area, 2400 meters above sea level,
The mountains on both sides comfort each other,
Not hesitating to issue, in the name of wind,
The laws of growth. I have to rely on the real
Sound of the wind, to judge
Whether the Heaven has kept to his daily homecoming.
***
菩萨岗
这是不朽的风吹来的寒意，
将整个凉山变成了风的战场。
粗粝，且狂野。
我认识的高原，起源于一场风的
吹拂，和阳光的炙烤。
甚至分不清风的忍让与刁难，
每一次的吹来都有着群山的呼喊，
与犀利的推背感。如此强悍，
使得高原一次次以火焰的名义
拒绝严寒。
我能接受的是赤子的热情。
在海拔2400米的菩萨岗服务区，
两边的山互相安慰，
不惜以风的名义颁布
成长的定律。我不得不依赖真实的
风的声音，来判断
上苍是否坚持了每天的归宿。
***
Clarity
ClarityCountless vanished forces gather once more.
Beneath the bridge, he observes the flowing form of water
As ripples spread outwards,
New currents take shape; stillness and surging
Are not its true nature.
Now, two rivers converge, forging a new stream.
Beneath the stones, there are no schools of fish,
Only water plants churning ceaselessly.
The village, with the mood of evening,
Gropes its way into a new pattern. On the slope,
Branches stirring in the wind, echoing the arrival of spring breezes.
No one acknowledges
The river’s immersive awakening. No one cares
About the morning dew,
No one approves of where youth originates.
The ever-rolling bridge seems to concur with the setting sun.
Only I, amid the sound of water on both banks,
Familiar with the separation from my hometown, and the clarity of moonlight.
***
澄明
无数消失的力量重新聚集。
他在桥下观察，水流动的形态
随着波纹的扩散，
又形成新的水流，静止与涌动
不是它本来的面目。
如今，两江汇合，形成新的河流。
石底下。没有鱼群，水草不停翻动，
村子以傍晚的心思
摸索出一条新格局，那在边坡
随风而动的树枝，附和了春风的莅临。
没有人认同
河流沉浸式的苏醒。没有谁在乎
清晨的水珠，
没有人，赞同青春的出处。
那不断辗动的桥梁，仿佛认同了夕阳。
只有我，在两岸的水声中
熟悉了故乡的别离，以及月色的澄明。
***
History of the Mind
History of the MindNo kin. The surrounding air is filled with walls of bronze and iron.
The desert stretches on, boundless,
Yet you turn a blind eye to such surroundings,
Your heart is neither irritable nor exactly calm.
Not many grievances drive you to journey far.
Not much moonlight illuminates the remote path.
Thorns are thickly scattered. You have no choice.
You are not afraid; the night still retains a little light.
Even light does not necessarily shine upon all time.
The process of your going and returning has determined the distance
Between the desk and the written characters.
You sought, you came, you revealed
The nearest Bible will be inscribed all over the earth.
What a glory this is,
What a humiliation. It shall surely compose a new history of the mind.
***
心灵史
举目无亲。周边的空气填满了铜墙铁壁。
大漠一直延伸，不着边际，
你无视这些环境，
内心并不暴躁，也不算平静。
没有多少冤屈令你远行。
没有多少月光照亮偏远的路。
荆棘密布。你没有选择。
你并不恐惧，黑夜依然保持了些许光明。
光明也不一定普照光阴。
你往返的过程，决定了书桌与字迹之间的
距离。你寻求了，你来了，你显示了
最近的圣经，将写满大地。
这是何等的荣耀，
何等的屈辱。必将谱写新的心灵史。
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