作者简介：

李自国，笔名西村，中国作家协会会员，国家一级作家，《星星》诗刊编审。已出版诗集《第三只眼睛》《告诉世界》《场—探索诗选》《生命之盐》《西村诗话》《行走的森林》《2018一2019我的灵魂书》《骑牧者的神灵》（中英文）等14部。曾获四川省文学奖、中国第三届长诗奖、郭小川诗歌奖，新诗百年优秀作品奖等，作品入选百余种选集。2019年10月应邀出席在印度召开的第39届世界诗人大会。 

1.自画像

文｜李自国

译｜北塔

画一个我  在墙上

跳下来  和我一起回想 

回想一生中后悔的事情

命中注定  你要流浪 

我要流浪  你我都是老朋友 

你在墙上  我在床上

假如世界真的走散了 

我们离回家的路不会太远 

那时候  你就是我  我就是你

咱俩神聊过的日子 

就是生长过一片片欲望的 

红  色  土  壤

黑  色  土  壤 

Self-portrait

I painted myself on the wall.

It jumped down and with me did recall

The things we repented all life.

It is destined that you are to roam

As I do. You and I are old friends.

You are on the wall while I am in bed.

If the world were to go astray,

We would not be far away from home.

Then you are me and I am you.

The days when we talked unrestrictedly

Are red soil

And black soil

Where lusts and desires grew. 

2.走盐场

漫山起伏的塔影

还能找回残稿的一份 

渐渐迫近的盐庄 

载负着打井人厚重的脚步

过往的盐花纷扬着我们

无数风暴的记忆 

撼人心魄的盐场 

像血  敞开殷红胸怀 

收容一代代天车“嘎吱”的风景 

还能抽象它们其中的影子 

重现深不可测的井 

零散的梦  让我在井场

把苦难想象成 

一堆堆喘息的化石 

大半个世纪沉下去了

雪  敲打烧盐工头顶

都会掠走舌根丝丝咸意

古盐井  古盐井

你的沉默让我说出些什么

怀抱群山的父亲 

依旧高耸如林

往昔的一切  现在与未来

都被你塔影折叠了 

剩下盐  色觉和味 

使我与这个当年世上最大的井场

遥遥站立         

Visit to the Salt Field

Figures of towers that rise and sink along the mountains

Can find yet a copy of the broken manuscripts.

The salt farm I am soon to reach 

Loads with heavy footsteps of well-diggers.

The little salt pieces that come and go fly

With numerous storms in our memory.

The soul-shaking salt field 

Opens wide its bosom crimson as blood,

Embracing generations of creaking crown blocks.

They can still abstract their shadows

And re-present the unfathomable wells.

My scattered dreams in the well field

Make me imagine hardship

As heaps and heaps of panting fossils

That sank for over half a century.

The snow strikes the head of salt workers

And can snatch from the tongue root bits of saltiness.

Ancient salt well, oh, ancient salt well,

Your silence makes me utter something

My father who cherished the mountains

Still towers high as a forest. 

All past things are folded by your tower shadows

Now and in the future.

Only salt is left; senses of color and taste

Make me stand in the distance

Facing the once-biggest well site in the world. 

3. 梦见梅泽和他的井

北宋《元丰九域志》载：“梅本夷人，在晋太康元年因猎，见石上有泉，饮之而咸，遂凿石三百尺，咸泉涌出，煎之成盐，居人赖焉。” 

你把弓箭扔在途中

用腮呼吸 

身影被群山绵延成树   

上树的鱼  干渴难忍 

你设计好一段水的距离

又被嶙峋母岩 

击碎  灵魂散落一地

溢出的泉水 微咸 

而又妙不可言 

暗合着人类心灵中 

一座安稳水域 

你的眼睛动了一下 

你的目光叮咚有声

便长出黑手和神话

而成井神

多年来  我就这样想象

你的崇高   神圣无比

与盐的光泽 

与那类相通的属性 

刀枪不入  面部有须 

打马横贯山脉    

每个足印下面 

烙下一口古井 

充满银子  月光  大泽的水份

火车随风开过来了 

河在远方  你在远方

潮水涌来的人群 

找到井  尸骨和仇恨

苦盐的心  请相信呵

一种绝对尤深 

灵魂高贵者的意愿

使你头戴冕旒 

远远躲进庙宇  燃烧 

最后  将自己无声熄灭          

Meize and His Well in My Dream

The History of Nine Regions in the Year of Yuanfeng in the Northern Song Dynasty thus recorded, “Mei is from foreign soil. In the first year of Taikang of Jin, he went hunting and saw a spring from a rock. He drank from it. It tasted salty, and so he dug 100 metres deep into the rock. Salty spring gushed out. He fried and dried it into salt on which the villagers relied.”

You threw down your bow and arrows midway.

You breathed with your cheeks.

Your figure was extended into a tree by the mountain.

The fish on a tree is thirsty unbearably.

You designed the distance of a length of water

But it was smashed by rugged parent rocks

And the soul scattered on the ground.

The gushy spring was a bit salty

But unspeakably tasty

Fitting slyly a safe water area

Within the human mind.

Your eyes winked

And your eyes made the ding-dong sound.

You extended your dark hands and myth

And became the god of well.

For many years I have been imagining so:

Sacred and matchless is your sublimity

Compared with the salt luster,

Compared with that interlinked property.

No weapons could harm the whiskered you.

You traversed all mountains on horseback

Leaving under each footstep

An ancient well

Filled with silver, moonlight and moisture.

Trains came with the wind.

The river is far yond, you are far yond.

The tide-like swarming crowd 

Found the wells resulting in death and hatred.

Believe, the heart of bitter salt,

A will that is profound

And from a noble soul

Made you wear a crown with tassels

And dodged into a temple. You burnt

Yourself into silence finally.

4. 盐业历史博物馆

那么多孩子  在你身旁

立一块早晨的碑 

不仅仅是纪念

不仅仅是教诲

一动一动的眼睛 

因阳光的注视

而显得格外真诚

时间的隧道里

不时响彻岩叶扇动的钟声 

沉入古老深思的井 

我的双桨  努力探寻

多想挥手如云 

接近你的悠久你的历史

视觉与奇想之问 

母亲留给我的深度 

孩子们等待我的深度 

在川南腹地  在很久很久以前

维系着一群 

寻不到面孔的人 

都曾有过卤水染黑的长发

而父亲和他井匠们 

拒绝走出酒杯 

整整一生  和空瓶子 

投下那个夜晚  坚硬  宁静

最后  被烧盐锅 

活活煮死 

我是一粒盐的子孙 

深陷的眼窝  像古井

摸索出老人的泪 

那些生命的盐份里 

就这样充斥我路上的黎明 

我要告诉亲爱的孩子

并从那些碑文中间 

默然诞生  重新咀嚼

老人刻进标本的 

那段晶莹而颗粒状的日子  

Museum of History of Salt Industry 

So many children at your side

Set up a morning stela

Not only for memory,

Not only for teaching.

Those winking eyes

Look especially sincere

Under the gaze of sunshine. 

In the channel of time

Sound the shale-fanned bell.

Deep in the ancient and pensive well,

My pair-oars tried hard to search.

How I wish to wave my hands like clouds,

To be close to your long history,

Between vision and fancy,

The depth Mom has left me,

The depth children await me for.

In the inland of Sichuan, long long ago

It held together a group

Of unseen people.

All people had brine-dyed long hair.

But my father and other well workers

Refused to quit wine cups

And all their life, with those empty bottles,

They dropped that night, resolutely, tranquilly,

And finally boiled to death

By that salt-processing boiler.

I am grandson of a grain of salt.

My deep eyeholes, like ancients wells,

Shed tears of old generations.

The saline matter of life

Thus fills my dawns on my way.

I’ll tell my dear children,

And from those inscriptions,

Silent birth of and meditating anew

Those days glittering and granular

That old generations carved into specimen.    

5.天车

你站起来了。威仪环绕我们

濒临打井的祖先，濒临 

盐场与坟场的物象间 

踽踽而行。村庄载过去了

隐自火焰的钟声 

牵动一年一月的喘息与歌吟

有多少次，你立下誓语 

诏示着你的儿女，沿沉睡的痛苦

而深呼吸  这该是足够的清醒

我们挥不掉它，一代代 

打开盐河之门。我们再渡难返

每年采卤归来，总要将不幸

醉倒怀里。将日子打磨成水

重又闪现的波光

复活古老的光荣与粗唇

谆谆教诲，一生中的短暂启程，

使我们想到苦盐 

备受锉井的艰深 

无时不将井口对准湿漉漉胸襟

情人呵! 那在冥色苍茫里 

即使眼泪根植皮肉，远离的时间

抽空我们脊髓，也将保持 

躯壳新鲜。群舞之后

正是祖先收获的黎明  

Refining Hoist

You have stood up. Your stateliness encircles us,

Close to our forefathers who dug wells, bordering on

Things between salt fields and graveyards,

Walking lonely. Villages have carried away 

The toll concealed in flames

Linking the panting and singing of one month each year.

Many times, you made oaths

Instructing your children, breathing deeply

Along the pain of sound sleep.

This should be sufficient soberness.

We cannot wave it off, generation after generation,

We opened the gate of Salt River. We cannot return.

Each time we returned from gathering halogen, we poured Misfortune into arms. We polish days into water

To make wave light flash anew.

Revive the ancient glory and thick lips.

The sincere instruction, a short start in life,

Makes us think of the bitter salt,

The hardship of filing well.

Always the well mouth faces the wet clothes.

My love, in that dark and deep vastness,

Even though tears are rooted in the skin,

And remote time emptied our spinal marrow,

We must keep our body fresh. After the group dance,

It is just our forefathers’ dawn of harvest. 

译者简介：

北塔，诗人、学者、翻译家，中国现代文学馆、中国社会科学院研究员，系世界诗人大会常务副秘书长、中国外国文学研究会莎士比亚研究分会秘书长、河北师范大学等高校客座教授，曾受邀赴美国、荷兰、蒙古等２０余国参加各类文学、学术活动，曾率中国诗歌代表团前往墨西哥、匈牙利、以色列等１０余国访问交流并参加诗会。已出版诗集《滚石有苔》《巨蟒紧抱街忂——北京诗选》，学术专著《照亮自身的深渊——北塔诗学文选》和译著《八堂课》（诺贝尔文学奖获得者库切的长篇小说 ）等各类著译约３０种，有作品曾被译成英文、德文、蒙古文等10余种外文。曾在国内外多次获奖。诗作手稿被上海图书馆中国文化名人手稿库收藏。有“石头诗人”之誉。

本期荐稿：邓瑛（德国）

本期总编：静好（英国）

 注：部分图片来自网络。