姜涛 ，1970年生，北京大学华文系考验，主抓剪辑学术集刊《新诗驳倒》，曾任日本大学文理学部、台湾清华大学华文系客座副考验，出书学术及月旦专著《从催眠的寰宇中阻挡醒来》、《公寓里的塔》、《巴枯宁的手》、《新诗集与中国新诗的发生》，诗集《洞中一日》、《鸟经》、《咱们共同的好意思好生存》，编订《中国新诗总论》（第一卷）、《中国新诗总系》（第一卷）等。

Jiang Tao, born in 1970, is a professor in the Department of Chinese Language and Literature at Peking University. He is the editor-in-chief of the academic journal New Poetry Review and has served as a visiting associate professor at the College of Arts and Sciences at Nihon University in Japan and the Department of Chinese Literature at National Tsing Hua University in Taiwan. He has published several academic and critical works, including Continuously Waking Up from a Hypnotic World, The Tower in the Apartment, Bakunin’s Hand, and New Poetry Collections and the Emergence of Modern Chinese Poetry. His poetry collections include A Day in the Cave, Bird Sutra, and Our Shared Beautiful Life. He has also edited and compiled volumes such as General Discussion of Chinese New Poetry (Volume 1) and Complete Collection of Chinese New Poetry (Volume 1).

一个作了讲师的下昼

姜涛

黑压压的一派，眼神岂肯这样随意

就分出了类型：男与女、正与邪、虫豸和外星东说念主

时光也从左脸肆意到右脸

停驻的时候，就下课了，讲台像峭壁自动地落下

蓝本，这寰宇大得很，每一派树叶下

都藏了一双偷吻的学生，在那一泡像被尿出的但并不因此

而著名的湖上，也浮了更广泛的坟

不需要准备，就不错放声，就不错变形

──期间准备着，但据回电自满

我的变形要从鳞翅目运转，也不削弱。

One Afternoon When I Was a Lecturer

Jiang Tao

in pitch dark, how can a gaze so rashly

distinguish: men from women, righteous from evil, insects from aliens

time indulges from the left to right cheek

and when it stops, school’s out, the speaker’s platform sinks like a cliff

it turns out this world is enormous, hidden under every leaf

is a student couple making out on the sly, while on that pond, which looks

like someone pissed it there, though that’s not why it’s famous, float even larger tombs

no prep needed, you can raise your voice, you can morph

─but always be prepared,. since according to caller ID

my metamorphosis must begin as a butterfly, and that’s no joke.

Translated from Chinese by Josh Stenberg

岑岭

姜涛

没若何，这猜测中的前戏

乏味又片时，一场新雪

在咱们身上，还没深深浸润过

还没简直欢叫过，乌云

就被拆走了床垫

显现的豪宅，不外是小户鸽笼

打开向余生

好在，商定的期间未到

不错先容身参不雅：树梢上

挂着冻红的果实

草地下，埋了拍浮的会馆

这社区风景，竟如斯持重

像被逐一梦到过

致使像被容许地屡次享用过

你却说：其实是眼球的凸面

沾了水汽，从B2到B3

唯有向下挖掘，金钱

才显现它的中枢

我嘟囔了几句，尝试另一种

反驳：其实唯有清寒

才俗气地半吞半吐

语不投契，依然一皆攀高吧

演出牵手的浑家，在赤身楼梯上

分裂飘忽的生分东说念主：

你看，那疲钝的运水夫

肩扛了一大桶郊野的湖

那眉毛高挑的快递员

唇上还卖弄一抹浓重的远山

那压碎了小指的修锁匠

只可靠拇责备任，拨开树叶下的弹簧

那打盹儿的、来自安徽的小保姆

则顾虑起老鳏夫

和他逝世的哈巴犬

跟咱们一皆攀高吧，生分东说念主

这高楼不外十几层

这快感不外十几重

什么吵喧噪嚷、花花卉草

全是心头未了的贷款

（咱们都是过来东说念主）

可有谁没能按月地偿清？

但在那儿，一切的峰巅

北风曾经强盛地否认

咱们按下门铃，评释来意

却不测地发现：大卧室

套着小客厅，男主东说念主心境零落

反穿了拖鞋，白墙上

有女主东说念主疾行中的脚印

Summit

Jiang Tao

it’s hopeless, this expected foreplay

brief and insipid, new snowfall

on our bodies, though not yet permeating

not yet truly excited, the storm clouds

have had their mattresses ripped off

revealing a mansion which is only a humble dovecote

opening towards the rest of life

at least the appointed hour has not yet come

we can take a break, have a gander: treetops

hang with frost-red fruit

beneath the lawn, the swimming club is buried

this neighborhood’s scenery is so familiar

like each detail has been dreamt

even gleefully and repeatedly enjoyed

though you say: actually it’s because the eyeball’s convexity is

vapor-moistened, and to get from B2 to B3

you have to keep digging down, that’s where wealth betrays its core

I mutter a few sentences, try some other

refutation: in fact only poverty

has the vulgarity to be tight-lipped

we talk at cross purposes, we’ll clamber up instead

play the roles of a hand-holding couple on the stripped steps

picking out the swift strangers:

look, that exhausted water-carrier

carrying a huge barrel of suburban lake on his shoulder

the courier service guy with the leaping eyebrows

his lips show a smear of oily distant hills

the locksmith with a crushed pinky finger

has to work with his thumbs,

pushes aside the springs beneath the leaves

the napping nanny from Anhui

keeps fretting about the old widower

and the pekinese dog who went with him to heaven

climb with us, stranger

this building’s not much more than ten stories high

the pleasure’s not much more than ten tons heavy

why the racket, the thicket

all the debts of an unfinished heart

(we’ve been around the block)

but who hasn’t managed to repay it in monthly installments?

but there, über allen Gipfeln,

the north wind once advanced its clever lies

we ring the doorsbell: explain why we’ve come

and discover to our surprise: the master bedroom

encases the parlor, the leading man’s complexion crumbles,

his slippers are on upside-down, on the white wall

are the leading lady’s racing footprints

Translated from Chinese by Josh Stenberg

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