Poetry Translations
You Put Down Your Pen, Gazing at the Garden—For Helen
你停下笔，看着花园——给海伦
You write poems in a diamond-shaped study
bright windows everywhere, wilderness stretching inward
like an unfurling scroll of landscape painting
revealing various details inch by inch
Even a plump bee comes visiting
baffled by your window full of daylight
you lay down the pen, briefly savouring its despair
then gently push the window open, set it free
Sometimes it happens, so you forget yourself
forget what you were writing moments ago
staring blankly at the garden, wind and trees
while the trail is trodden by deer
becomes clearer as grass grows taller
You hope to see some pairs of furry ears pricking up
listening for movements in your room
so you might listen to each other for a long time
forgetting poetry, abandoning all thought
Spring passes just like this
like that troop of shy deers from past years
now with a few paler fawns added
curiously dawdling. When you finally notice
only grass ripples and silence after the wind blows
Evening, April 11, 2025
Response Poetry By Ma Yongbo 马永波
你停下笔，看着花园——给海伦
You Put Down Your Pen, Gazing at the Garden—For Helen
你在一个棱形的书房里写诗
很多明亮的窗户，原野蔓延进来
像一个不断展开的风景画的卷轴
一点一点展示出各种细节
连胖乎乎的蜜蜂也来拜访
为你满窗的光明而迷惑
你停下笔，欣赏了一会它的绝望
然后轻轻推开窗，放它自由
有时就是这样，你忘记了自己
忘记了自己刚才在写什么
你呆呆望着花园，风和树
而那条鹿们踩出的小径
随着青草长高，越发清晰
你希望看到几双竖起来的毛茸茸的耳朵
倾听着你房间里的动静
你们可以就那样互相倾听着
你忘记了诗，什么都不想
春天，就这样过去了
像往年那一队羞怯的鹿悄悄走过
多了几只颜色强浅的小鹿
好奇地磨磨蹭蹭。等你发觉
只有青草的波动和风过之后的寂静
2025年4月11日傍晚 马永波
The Listening Garden—for Yongbo
in response to his song
‘You Put Down Your Pen, Gazing at the Garden—For Helen’’
倾听花园——致永波
回应他的诗《你放下笔，看着花园——致海伦》
Even the green grass has a voice; the spilled green leaning into the wind, speaking to the soil and the leaning trees; their bulbous brown hands catching and cupping sound.
The black sticks of Chinese lift as bees feet in tiny imprints; the estranged walking voice of a travelling bee hazily revisiting the blue painted windowsill. All seasons pass through here with a destabilising force, how can I miss this voice?
I am the spring pink blossom remembering herself once again in the early darkness, encircled with the slowing grey notes of even greyer doves, my pen is suddenly a still twig in a once active beak; the unfinished nest.
The restlessness of deer, can be settled by cool drinking, and in the summer their twitching ears are the rising silhouette of tall and wispy grasses.
Brown fur backs, are twilight tentative, as hush enters the spaces before them, silence extending into new paths, after the soporific bees have remembered their way back.
13th April 2025
Response Poetry by Helen Pletts 海伦·普莱茨
倾听花园——致永波
回应他的诗《你放下笔，看着花园——致海伦》
The listening garden—for Yongbo
in response to his song
‘You Put Down Your Pen, Gazing at the Garden—For Helen’
就连青草也有声音；那泼溅的绿
在风中倾身，与泥土和倾斜的树木交谈；
它们那棕褐色厚实的手，捕捉并捧起声音。
汉字的黑枝如蜜蜂的小脚印抬起；
一只旅蜂陌生游走的声音，朦胧地
重访蓝油漆的窗台。所有季节
从此经过，带着不稳定的力量，
我怎能错过这声音？
我是那粉色的春花，在早早降临的黑暗中再次忆起自己，
被愈发灰暗的鸽子那渐缓的灰色音符环绕，
我的笔突然成了曾经活跃的鸟喙中
一根静止的细枝；那未完成的巢。
鹿儿的不安，可借清凉的饮水平息，夏日
它们抽动的耳朵，是纤细高草升起的轮廓。
棕色的鹿背是谨慎的薄暮，
当它们前面的空间变得沉默，
寂静延伸至新的小径，
在催眠般的蜜蜂记起归途之后。
2025年4月13日海伦·普莱茨
