Jingwa / 井蛙
Jingwa(b. 1970s)Lives in California, USA. As a poet, a psychologist and an author of six published works, she contributes to many collections of fiction and poetry. She wrote a series of articles on works of impressionist and modern painters including Monet, Manet, Van Gogh, Gauguin, Cezanne, Renoir, Matisse, Munch and others, for study of these articles she traveled to visit art museums in Paris, California, Belgium, Shanghai, Tibet, Nepal, Amsterdam, Anchorage, New York, Boston, Berlin, Weimar and Prague. Her publications include poems “Selected Poems of JINGWA“(2003)and “The Eternal Auvers-sur-Oise”(2011), history “The Fragrant Library” (2011)as well as novels “Mom Left Me Alone”(2001)and “Rush Out a Glittering Sword” (2002).
Email: jingwa64@hotmail.com
To My Father / 给父
The sadline wine
Passed the door of the drunkard’s who forgot the time
I don’t know what kind of tribute should be feted on your birthday
And only know that this century has recorded the gap of two
generations
The bland missing was growing by your grave
The gate of my city is still toughly guarding the blast of wind
Its coming represents
The affection brought by me and the happiness of the field
It’s ture that there is never a sense of being drunk to climb
the window in my face
To climb the struggle of the difficulties of language
And to climb the staring of the light pole
苦涩的酒
ç»è¿‡é†‰æ±‰çš„家门他忘了年月
我也记ä¸å¾—ä½ çš„ç”Ÿè¾°è¯¥ç”¨ä»€ä¹ˆè´¡å“ç¥ç¥€
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是的,我脸上从没有一ä¸é†‰æ„爬上窗
爬上言è¯å›°éš¾çš„æŒ£æ‰Ž
爬上电线æ†ä¸Šçš„凿œ›
To You / ç»™ä½
The rolling empty bottle in the street reminds me of
The times of wine
Of the dead drunk person lying on the straw mat which is
Reversal in time and space
Of the weaving hands weaving the never-to-be-awaken dream
The drunk dream reminds me of
The mercy upstairs being a pile of blankness
Because that is a watcher who knows nothing about life
And reminds me of the moment being occupied by love
The solitary mountain locates at the eaves that hold the sun
the moon the wind and the storm
It reminds me of our busy time in the rain
Your silence was thrown to the sailor who is pulling the rope
The sailor gave the vast sea the foams that haven’t been
back from its squander
街上一个滚动的空瓶å使我想起
酒那年月
想起醉æ»çš„äººèººåœ¨æ—¶ç©ºé¢ å€’çš„è‰å¸
想起编织的手编织ä¸é†’的梦
梦的醉想起
æ¥¼ä¸Šçš„æ€œæ‚¯åªæ˜¯ä¸€å †ç©ºç™½
å› ä¸ºé‚£æ˜¯ä¸æ‡‚生活的æ—观者
ä½¿æˆ‘æƒ³èµ·è¢«çˆ±å æœ‰çš„æ—¶åˆ»
寂寞的山座è½åœ¨æ—¥æœˆé˜´æ™´é£Žé›¨çš„屋æª
æƒ³èµ·é›¨ä¸æˆ‘们的忙碌
ä½ çš„æ²‰é»˜æŠ›ç»™äº†æ‹‰ç»³å的水手了
水手给了汪洋给了漂泊未归的泡沫
No Time To Be Sad / 没有时间悲伤
Your silent glance hurt the returning shepherd
When the flock of crows was tweedling for the feeling of hatred
Can they still fly in the sky that hasn’t ever been touched
Has migrate, a city
The missing of Chinese way can never defeat
The inflammation of today
I truly believe that there is a wall which is crying while
squatting in the third space
And is waiting for the pined body to say farewell to the
black shadow that is approaching her
ä½ æ²‰é»˜çš„çœ¼ç¥žæˆ³ç—›ç‰§å½’çš„äºº
当一笼鸦噪于自己的妒æ¨
这片未被碰触的天空还å¯ä»¥é£žç¿”å—
一座城市è¿å¾™äº†
ä¸å›½å¼çš„æ€å¿µæ€»æ˜¯æ•Œä¸è¿‡ä»Šå¤©
烈焰的ç«åŒ–
我相信还有第三度空间蹲ç€å“泣的墙
åœ¨ç‰æ¶ˆç˜¦çš„é—ä½“å‘Šåˆ«å¥¹æ¸æ¸è¿«è¿‘的黑影