Su Shaolian

作品原文 苏绍连 《岸,你沉沉的睡着》 在海边，一个深夜， 我悄悄的下水， 向最透明最清醒的海外游去。 我游泳的技术熟练，姿势优美， 星星睁开了惊羡的眼睛， 月亮也露出了圆脸观赏， 我，是夜空中泅泳的灵魂。 不会有人类发现我， 我不必有身世， 也不必有姓名。 我不必有衣物， 更不必有包袱。 只因此刻，我离了岸， 母亲，我离了岸。 像我这样的青年，是多么的多啊！ 我的四周 浮游了一具具的尸体， 有我的同学， 也有我的朋友， 我与他们在一起， 泪一直流成水， 水一直流成无限的思念。 岸，我离你已远了， 你要沉沉的睡着， 我恳求潮水不要拍击你， 贝壳不要传递我的讯息， 灯火不要摇醒你， 你一定要沉沉的睡着， 因为你拥抱着城市和田园， 然而，这些我都离远了， 包括你，中国的岸。 我漂得多远啊， 在地球的旋转中， 天空永远沉默， 我也不能说什么。 做为一根浮木， 或一个空瓶， 这并不是悲哀， 我要远去， 向一片处女地登陆。 海水愈来愈冷， 然后停在我的鼻尖结冻， 我含笑的沉下去， 中国的岸，你又失去了一个人。 你不必惊醒，只要沉沉的睡着， 因为你的上面， 还有我的亲人。     作品译文 Sleep Deeply, Shore Su Shaolian On the shore, late one evening I enter the water quietly and swim off toward a limpid, sober land beyond the sea. I am an accomplished swimmer, my stroke is graceful. Stars look down wide-eyed in startled envy, and appreciation shows on the full, round face of the moon. I am a spirit swimming beneath the night sky. No human being will see me. I don’t need any experience or a name or clothing or heavy burdens, because at this moment I am leaving the shore behind. Mother, I’ve left the shore. There are so many young men like me! Their corpses float all around me: those of boys I went to school with and those of my friends. I have joined them— a steady stream of tears, a steady stream of infinite yearning. I’m a long way from you now, shore.…

作品原文 苏绍连 《削梨》 右手拿着一把雪亮的小刀，从巷口里走出来，我面目漆黑，步步逼近左手中的一颗水梨。我旋转刀子，斜刮水梨，听到梨树在呼喊。一层层的梨皮逐渐削去，裸出水汪汪的白肉，香气四溢，然而，右手拿住的刀子却沾满了血。 左手一直愤怒着，五指齐向掌心弯曲，抓压，陷入梨肉中，捏紧，破碎无声。后来，才发觉手中并没有水梨，只是一个拳头就像一层一层的梨皮逐渐剥落。     作品译文 Peeling a Pear Su Shaolian The right hand holds a small, shiny knife. Walking away from the entrance to the alleyway, my features black as pitch, I get closer and closer to the luscious pear in my left hand with every step I take. Turning the knife, I cut on an angle to remove the peel, listening to the screams of the pear tree. Layer by layer, the pear skin falls away to reveal white, juicy flesh. A sweet smell fills the air, but the knife in my right hand is covered in blood. In the meantime, the left hand has been fuming with rage, its five digits curled in toward the palm and pressing tightly, sunk into the flesh of the pear, squeezing hard, destroying it soundlessly. Only later do I find that there’s no pear at all—only a fist gradually un- raveling like layers of peel.

作品原文 苏绍连 《兽》 我在暗绿的黑板上写了一只字“兽”，加上注音“ㄕㄡ”，转身面向全班的小学生，开始教这个字。教了一整个上午，费尽心血，他们仍然不懂，只是一直瞪着我，我苦恼极了。背后的黑板是暗绿色的丛林，白白的粉笔字“兽”蹲伏在黑皮上，向我咆哮，我拿起板擦，欲将它擦掉，它却奔入丛林里，我追进去，四处奔寻，一直到白白的粉笔屑落满了讲台上。 我从黑板里奔出来，站在讲台上，衣服被兽爪撕破，指甲里有血迹，耳朵里有虫声，低头一看，令我不能置信，我竟变成四只脚而全身生毛的脊椎动物，我吼着：“这就是兽！这就是兽！”小学生们都吓哭了。     作品译文 Beast Su Shaolian On the dark-green blackboard I write the character “兽” and its phonetic transcription shou. Then I turn to face a whole class of primary school students and begin explaining to them what it means. After a morning of painstaking effort, they still haven’t gotten my drift, staring at me blankly and driving me up the wall. The dark-green blackboard behind me is a jungle, and there—written on it in white chalk—crouches the character “beast” yowling at me. I pick up a duster and am just about to rub it out when it dashes off into the jungle. I head off in pursuit, chasing after it everywhere until the platform is covered in chalk dust. I come running out of the blackboard and stand there, my clothes ripped to shreds by the beast’s claws, traces of blood on my fingernails, the buzz of insects in my ears. As I look at myself, I can’t believe what I see: I have turned into a four-legged vertebrate covered in fur. I snarl at the class: “This is what a beast is! This is what a beast is!” The students all burst into…