弗洛林·丹·普罗丹诗三首

Mornings in Prague

these almost imaginary mornings

when all is small and possible

like the birds that sing and the insects that wait

for the sunlight

that today will not come

because you covered the sky

with your dream

and threw it over the city, over the

buildings

clouding old songs

windows, the air, the table and the bed

with silence

then only the paintings woke up in the light

saying: there's nothing new or old

only you believe there is, you humans

that sleep, dream and die

布拉格的清晨

这些清晨近乎想象

一切都细小而可能

像鸣啭的鸟儿和昆虫们

等着阳光

今天不会到来

因为你用梦

封闭了天空

并把它甩到城市之上，罩住那

楼群

用沉默

遮蔽了古老的歌曲

窗户、空气、桌子和床

只有画作在光线中醒来

说：没什么新旧

只有你们信其有，你们这些

沉睡、做梦、死掉的人类

Green apples

To Andrea

A whole breed and ten thousands birds have passed

since that February evening when I offered

green winter apples and you

asked ‘how did you knew I like them’

Now as the summer’s quickly gone

other green apples, sweet and fresh

are rolling through August light

to your palms and memory

Since then there were thin nights and gloomy days

where ants and other insects

rolled a heart like an apple

to a home for the winter time

Where all hearts need to reach

and to be kept in, close together

seeds in love .

青苹果

——致安德烈

自二月那个傍晚，

我奉上冬天的青苹果，

你问：“你怎么知道

我喜欢它们？”

如今，当夏日疾速流逝，

别的青苹果甜美而新鲜

正从八月的阳光中

滚落进你的掌心和记忆

自那时起，单薄的夜晚和阴沉的日子来了

蚂蚁和其他小虫

滚着苹果似的一颗心

回到冬天的家

那每颗心想抵达之处

在一起，紧紧依偎

爱的种子。

Small History from Eastern Europe

the page pierces the flesh

bringing the day of tomorrow - a seedless fruit

like the stars from one thousand and one nights

eaten by a blind man

look at the candle in the corner

it is a garden

of all other nights

the traces of hooves and of my love’s steps

fill the space between two words

the paper tears the bones,

the flesh pierces the dust

above them the thundering spring passes by

above it we make a fire for the night

东欧简史

书页刺穿肉体

带来明日——一颗无籽的果实

如同一千零一夜的繁星

被盲人吞食

看角落里的蜡烛

它是一座花园

属于所有其他夜晚

蹄痕和我爱人的脚步

填满两个词之间的空隙

纸张撕碎骨头，

肉体刺穿尘土

在它们之上，春风雷鸣般掠过

在它之上，我们为夜晚生起火堆