Poetry in translation from Spittoon Literary Magazine Issue 3:
我在里斯本
邱何
我在里斯本。
我已经活到了这里，
最没有记忆能力中最厌倦反复的。
周边一切，反复地浪叠，起泡，
下降灭消。
陈腐地一如千年万年不变的消沉。
我扣起的一小片尘土，
又下坠消散。
变化的过程当中是漫长的重复。
是厌倦，是失望，最后是演出。
一场场一路地演，不变，不变，
熟悉而无限的熟悉。
人类是海里的纵深的窄洞
漩涡一样卷在人类里，在海里
在挣扎里无知地沉溺
无知变成光的时候人类在光里。
我暂时在人里。
寒冷潮湿的人群成为我的一部分，
我成为我唯一的部分。
夜晚在声音里，光和空气里，水里，
在大海的边际里。
有人就直直地丢开语言。
丢开皮肤，生活在水汽里。
从此你不是写下你从未写的
你写下全人类未写的
你用水汽写，用光，声音和温度。
用你以为你清醒时期的你
活着时期的你和你的周围。
2015.12.28
里斯本 sanbini terrasse
————
I Am in Lisbon
Qiu He
Trans. Stephen Nashef
I am in Lisbon.
I have been here before
the height of tedium over and over in the height of forgetting.
Everything around me swells and piles up over and over folding and frothing
until it sinks and then dies.
Stalely, predictably, for-millennia-unchangingly bored.
I pinch some dirt and it scatters again
as it falls.
Change is a series of drawn-out repetitions:
it bores it lets down and then it puts on a show.
Show after show one after the other, the same and the same
the known and the unbounded known.
Humans are tiny old tunnels in the depths of the ocean
whirlpools twist up inside them, inside the sea
drowning unknowing fighting for breath.
Humans inside the light when unknowing is light.
Now I am inside these people.
The cold dripping crowds are now part of me
and my only part is now me.
Night is in the voice in the light and the air and the water
in the ocean’s edge.
And some simply shake off their language,
shake off their skin and live in the froth.
And then you don’t write what you’ve not written before
you write what humans have not written before
you write with froth and with light, with voice and with heat.
Write with the you from the time you thought you were awake,
the you from the time when you were alive and all that surrounds you.
Sanbini Terrasse, Lisbon
28th December 2015