AMERICAN POETRY – A MEMORABLE TIME, Anthology by Khế Iêm, Vietnam

AMERICAN POETRY A MEMORABLE TIME

THƠ MỸ MỘT THỜI ĐÁNG NHỚ _____

A Bilingual Edition Ấn Bản Song Ngữ

Translator: Khế Iêm

This Anthology is a precious jewel that collects contributions from poets of different countries, the common language is American English. All the works are translated by Khế Iêm, who is also the author of “Stepping out: Essays On Vietnamese Poetry”.

The aim of this collection is stated in the Introduction:
Humanity requires understanding and peaceful exchanges which will enrich our lives. In the age of the Internet, poetry has become a simple and convenient means to rapidly discover and begin to understand the cultures of many different peoples.

Each and every writer here raises his/her voice loud and clear to convey a message of Brotherhood and Peace through images of rare beauty, images of light and splendour that only Angels, even if rebel, can have … by the way, the title of Part One is: Rebel Angels, and the title of  Part Two is: Free Verses.

A work of collecting texts and subsequent translations that has engaged Khế Iêm for a long time, and the result is this wonderful Anthology, a collection that can be defined as another brick added to the construction of a lasting Peace in the World.

Lidia Chiarelli

President of Immagine & Poesia Movement, Italy

________

AMERICAN POETRY

A MEMORABLE TIME

_________________

THƠ MỸ

MỘT THỜI ĐÁNG NHỚ

A Bilingual Edition

Ấn Bản Song Ngữ

Translator: Khế Iêm

tho-my-american-poetry-con-duong-tho-viet-nam-guiDownload

Lidia Chiarelli is the 3rd KEL International Poet Award Winner

“The World” poem by James Tian (China), Italian translation and Art by Lidia Chiarelli

The World

It’s raining on this street in Manila,

The melody of rain,

Exceeds the singing of breathing.

Hurrying in different directions,

An impulse to the breeze,

Is the constant blinking.

The gloomy weather,

Reflecting the sleepy mood;

A trace of warmth,

Coming from the undead body which is moving.

Where there’s emotion,

There’s space with temperature;

Where there’s a dreamer,

There’s rainbow which never quit cleaning.

By James Tian

_____

Il mondo

Piove in questa strada di Manila,

La melodia della pioggia,

È più forte del canto del respiro.

Volgendo in direzioni diverse,

Un impulso alla brezza,

È un lampeggiare costante.

Il tempo cupo,

Riflette l’umore sonnolento;

Una traccia di calore,

Proveniente dal corpo che dà segni di vita e che si muove.

Dove c’è emozione,

C’è spazio per il calore;

Dove c’è un sognatore,

C’è un arcobaleno che non smette mai di portare luce .

Di James Tian

Lidia Chiarelli is the winner of the KEL Third International Poet Award – 2022

“A Cold Winter” by 田宇 James Tian (China), Italian Translation and Art by Lidia Chiarelli

A COLD WINTER – to the so called Peace

I can foresee a cold winter,

Even the stars are still praying,

For the dawn and brightness,

But who can escape their fate?

The breath of sky is harsh and raw,

There is nothing new and fresh,

Only the silence is covering the screen,

Doing nothing but trying to open the gate.

The wind brings the melancholy of spring,

Gently put the willow branches in the nave.

Let a beam of light,

Come from the tranquility of the heart,

Continue the fairy tale again,

Also in a colorful memory.

Forgotten the late autumn,

It faded away the immature heat.

A mess of water,

Like today’s world,

With a little sad,

And more pitiful harmony.

I can foresee a cold winter,

Even the stars are still praying,

For the peace and dreams.

The lonely melody,

It’s no longer a fence,

It’s the green outside,

But this kind of vitality,

Just getting farther and farther away.

田宇

Un Inverno Freddo – alla così detta Pace

Prevedo un inverno freddo,

Anche le stelle pregano ancora,

per l’alba e la luce,

Ma chi può sfuggire al proprio destino?

Il respiro del cielo è duro e crudo,

Non c’è nulla di nuovo e di fresco,

Solo il silenzio copre lo schermo,

e cerca di aprire il cancello.

Il vento porta la malinconia della primavera,

Posa delicatamente i rami di salice nella navata.

Che un raggio di luce

Venuto dalla tranquillità del cuore,

Possa continuare ancora la favola,

Anche in un ricordo colorato.

Dimenticato il tardo autunno,

Svanito il calore immaturo.

Un rovescio d’acqua,

Come il mondo di oggi,

Con un po’ di tristezza,

E un’armonia più pietosa.

Prevedo un inverno freddo,

Anche le stelle pregano ancora,

Per la pace e i sogni.

La melodia solitaria,

Non è più un recinto,

È il verde fuori,

Ma questo tipo di vita appare,

Sempre più lontana.

“NIGHTFALL” poem by ZHANG Zhuoyue, China

[中国]张卓阅

日暮（外二首）

日落

惊起一群乌鸫

此刻

路灯照亮了

那些归家的匆匆步履

和前方的一排排高楼

此刻

夜风被万物唤醒

远山

在沉寂中

伸了一下懒腰

此刻

枯树下

蚂蚁们

纷纷涌入

栀子花的梦乡

此刻

我看见

一行行诗

掠过

灯火阑珊的家园

——那是乌鸫，在盘旋

                 2022年2月8日于陪都

[China]Zhang Zhuoyue

Nightfall

The sun set

And startled a flock of crows.

Now

Street lamps shone on

The hasty steps hurrying home

And rows of high buildings ahead.

Now

The nocturnal breeze was awoken by all things.

Distant mountains

In the dead silence

Stretched their lazy waists.

Now

Under withered trees

Ants

Swarmed into the dream

Of gardenia, one after another.

Now

I saw

Lines of poems

Flew over

Homes dimly lit:

—The crows were hovering.

           February 8, 2022, written in Chongqing

                    (Translated by Prof. Li Zhengshuan)

About the author:

ZHANG Zhuoyue was born on January 6, 2011 in Chongqing City, China. He loves writing, taekwondo, programming and music. He is now a six grade student in Xincun Experimental Primary School, Jiangbei District, Chongqing City.

10 motivi per visitare l’Uzbekistan!

Received from Abdulloh Abdumominov, Uzbekistan this article by Marjona Jurakulova

10 motivi per visitare l’Uzbekistan!

 L’Uzbekistan è il cuore della Via della Seta, un paese estremamente amichevole e allegro che trasuda un’eleganza abbagliante grazie alla sua natura magnifica e scalda i cuori con sorrisi dorati attraverso la sua gente ospitale. La Via della Seta potrebbe essere il biglietto da visita che attira i visitatori in Uzbekistan, ma una volta che il viaggiatore curioso impara da solo la storia del popolo multietnico uzbeko, è chiaro che non può nascondere la sua ammirazione. L’Uzbekistan è pieno di bellezze naturali mozzafiato. Le foto delle città di questo paese ritraggono il paradiso dell’Asia centrale. Quando riscoprirai questi luoghi con i tuoi occhi, sarai certo che sono identici a due gocce d’acqua. È difficile esprimere a parole le abbaglianti moschee blu del paese, i minareti decorati, gli edifici in stile orientale e le città antiche. Niente batte l’aroma del pane appena sfornato o il gusto degli spiedini di agnello. Se ti piacciono gli oggetti fatti a mano, abbiamo delle buone notizie per te. Mosaici uzbeki, ceramiche floreali e piastrelle geometriche competono con i famosi Azulejos di Lisbona, in Portogallo. Sarai trasportato in un lontano periodo della storia in pochi secondi. • Le antiche città dell’Uzbekistan: Per più di 10.000 anni, i rappresentanti di varie tribù hanno vissuto in Uzbekistan. Le antiche città si sono conservate intatte a causa del clima secco e arido. L’armonia tra esempi di creatività creati nel Medioevo e la metropoli moderna attira l’attenzione. La ricchezza della storia uzbeka ti stupirà mentre cammini per le strade o visiti qualsiasi museo. Puoi ascoltare per ore sui sette moli di Bukhara, la nobile città di Registan a Samarcanda. Piatti nazionali uzbeki: I piatti nazionali uzbeki sono la più dolce di tutte le cucine del mondo. La cucina uzbeka è una delle più diverse dell’Asia centrale. Le tradizioni culinarie dei popoli stanziali e nomadi della regione, accumulate nel corso dei secoli, sono incarnate nel complesso di deliziosi piatti della cucina uzbeka, che oggi è unica e comprensibile per tutti noi. Il piatto nazionale uzbeko è il pilaf (zuppa). Il pilaf è il piatto più famoso della cucina uzbeka, espressione dell’ospitalità e della tolleranza della nostra gente, e la nostra tavola è deliziosa. Tante nazioni quante sono nel mondo, ognuna ha la sua cucina nazionale, che è il fondamento delle loro tradizioni nazionali. Il pilaf è senza dubbio preparato in ogni paese visitato da un uzbeko. I turisti stranieri che visitano il nostro paese esprimono interesse per il pilaf. Persone provenienti da tutto il mondo si divertono a mangiare pilaf. Si dice che Ibn Sina disse al padre di un giovane malato che un pasto composto da sette ingredienti diversi avrebbe curato la malattia di suo figlio. Questo piatto è identico al pilaf, che contiene olio, carne, cipolle, carote, riso, acqua e sale. Successivamente, a seconda della stagione e del gusto, vengono preparati ulteriori prodotti con mele cotogne, albicocche, rape, aglio, cipolla, uova, piselli, zucca, uvetta e altri ingredienti. Il pilaf è un piatto tradizionale uzbeko. Non c’è solo una cultura culinaria, ma c’è anche una cultura comportamentale. Pilaf unisce l’intera nazione. Perché, secondo la tradizione, la zuppa viene colata in un piatto e mangiata per lo più a mano. Speciali piatti pilaf sono persino realizzati da ceramisti. Il suo segreto è che il piatto non brucia le mani e non raffredda rapidamente il cibo. Nei tempi antichi, i vasai scolpivano iscrizioni sulle rocce che insegnavano loro a mangiare. Infine, vi invitiamo a fare un viaggio culinario in Uzbekistan. • Luoghi sacri: L’Uzbekistan è conosciuto come la “Terra dei mille santuari” perché ci sono numerosi monumenti e santuari sacri in tutto il paese, che vanno dal monastero buddista greco-battriano di Fayoz Tepa agli altari zoroastriani scavati a Khorezm. Un gran numero di pellegrini visita l’Uzbekistan specificamente per visitare i luoghi di pellegrinaggio islamico. I musulmani sunniti si impegnano a visitare il sacro santuario dell’Imam Bukhari, l’autore della raccolta di hadith “Sahih al-Bukhari”, vicino a Samarcanda, e i seguaci sufi della setta Naqshbandi visitano il santuario di Bahauddin Naqshband a Bukhara. Non posso descrivere la tranquillità della sorgente di Nurota nella regione di Navoi oi meravigliosi santuari sulle spalle degli aceri a Urgut; tutto quello che posso dire è che dovresti andare a vederli di persona. A seguito del potente terremoto, le città dell’Uzbekistan hanno sviluppato le proprie caratteristiche stilistiche. Di conseguenza, l’architettura è un mix di edifici sovietici a blocchi del 12° secolo e edifici con piastrelle blu integrati dall’architettura classica europea.

Author: Marjona Jurakulova

Traditional Costumes

Zhang Zhi’s Selected Poems

世界在双筒望远镜中左摇右晃

l

被垃圾、精液、核废料、海洛因

血和爱滋病弄脏的

世界, 想擦也擦不掉了

2

瞧，世界钻进了KTV包房

不知道哪一头美丽的野兽

又将在他的胯下快乐地呻吟

今夜，狗日的世界肯定会大干一场

——如果你把这一幕想象成

第三次世界大战

也无可厚非

3

大河向东流

小姐朝西走

世界像迷途的羔羊

站在十字路口

问南来北往的机器人

“老兄, 我该给谁磕头”

4

世界用双脚为政客们鼓掌

政客们用鲜血为世界洗澡

5

世界看不清我们的脸

也许我们原本没有脸

“没有脸就不要脸”

这是哪一个艺术杂种说的

6

世界挥舞着自己的阳具

爬到联合国大厦顶楼嚎叫

“你们看呀，我好棒”

其实, 昨天晚上

这家伙还在梦中对我耳语

“兄弟, 我那玩意不中用啦”

7

世界从容不迫

世界面无惧色

世界走到历史的车轮下

但没有血流出来

真正的血迹你们何曾见过

8

磨刀霍霍，世界

不分白天黑夜

剜自己的肉。死亡

在一滴血里唱着不朽的歌

“丰乳霜，丰乳不丰腰”

The World Is Swaying in a Binoculars

1.

The world fouled by

trash, semen, nuclear waste, heroin, blood and AIDS

can never be cleaned

2.

Look! The world has entered KTV chartered room

Who knows which beautiful beast

delightfully moaning under his hips again

Tonight, the damned world will surely play rough

— It is also OK

if you image the scene 

to be the Third World War

3.

Rivers run east

Prostitutes go west

The world is like a lost lamb

standing at a crossroads

asking robots going north and south

“To whom I should bow, sir?”

4.

The world is applauding for politicians with its feet

The politicians bathe the world in blood

5.

The world cannot see clear our faces

maybe we have no face

“We can be shameless since we have no face”

a certain damned artist said so.

6.

The world is waving its penis

howling on the top of the UN Edifice

“Behold, it is great”

In fact, last night

this fellow whispered to me in the dream

“Sir, my penis is of no use”

7.

The world is unhurried

The world is not frightened

The world has gone under the wheel of history

but no blood is coming out

Who has ever seen the real blood

8.

Whetting the knife, the world

is gouging out its own flesh

day and night. Dearth

is singing an everlasting song in a drop of blood

“Breast-fattening cream fattens the breast, not the waist”

鸟语

鸟鸣高不过天空

正如人类

永远也无法看清自己

那些在混凝土中

隐匿的瞳仁、骨头和血

不　再　醒　来

就算我说世界像一幅画

就算我挂起招牌收购证词

就算我握住婴儿的手

凝视初生的老虎

就算我们每天朗诵精装的

姓氏、童话和鸟语

谁又能相信，从今夜开始

鹰会向低处飞

星光永不黯淡

或者，点燃雪花可以取暖

大地贴满符咒的日子

月亮与僵尸同行

咿——呀！

Birds’ Language

Birds’ cry cannot be higher than the sky

Just like human beings

Never able to see themselves clearly

Those pupilla, bones and blood

Hidden in the concrete

No longer wake

Even if I say the world is like a picture

Even if I put up a sign to purchase testimony

Even if I hold babies’ hands

And gaze at the newborn tiger

Even if every day we read aloud

De luxe name, fairy tales and birds’ language

Who can believe from tonight on

Eagles should fly downward

Star light never dims

Or, snowflakes are lit for warmth

In the days when the land is covered with incantations

The moon walks together with the corpse

Alas

杀鸡记

昨天下午

我出门买鸡

农贸市场

到处都是湿漉漉的

空气中

弥漫着烂菜叶的腐臭气息……

鸡贩子把鸡

关在一个大铁丝笼子里

旁边还竖立着一台脱毛机

脱毛机的四周一地鸡毛

当我靠近鸡笼时

鸡们惊恐地挤成一团

我指着看中的一只鸡

让鸡贩子过秤

当鸡贩子将他

那只粘着几片鸡毛的手

伸进铁丝笼子时

那只面临灭顶之灾的鸡

竟然一动不动

当真印证了

那个耳熟能详的成语

——呆若木鸡

称完了重量

鸡贩子举起

一把寒光闪闪的刀

对准鸡的脖子

用力一抹

一股殷红的鲜血

霎时喷涌而出……

随即

那只鸡

被扔进了脱毛机

然后

鸡贩子舀了一瓢

滚烫的开水淋了下去——

那只鸡惨叫连连

引得笼子里的那些鸡们

也一阵阵骚动……

哀鸣声

终于微弱下去

直至消失在寒风中——

鸡贩子

早已开动

脱毛机开始搅拌……

只一会儿功夫

一只光溜溜的鸡

就在我的眼皮底下

被一刀一刀斩成鸡块……

这时

铁丝笼子里的鸡们

也已平静下来

它们

又开始啄食主人

喂养的饲料

有的开始梳理自己的羽毛

有的打鸣

还有的互相打斗抢食

好一片和平热闹的景致

同伴的命运

似乎和它们没有一点关系

刚才发生的一切

也似乎只是一场恶梦

如今

一切又复归平静……

In Memory of a Butchered Chicken

Yesterday afternoon

I went out to buy a chicken

In the farmer’s market

It is moist all around the ground

In the air

The smell of rotten vegetables filled …

The chickens were put into

A big wire cage by a chicken trafficker

Beside it was a hair removal machine

Their feather on the ground around it

When I approached to the cage

They crowded around in horror

I pointed one of them I wanted to buy

Ask him to weigh it

When he reached

His hands stuck with a few pieces of feather

Into the wire cage

Faced with the extinction the chicken

Was actually motionless

It confirms

A familiar Chinese idiom

—Dumb as a wooden chicken

After weighed

He held

A gleaming knife

Aligning it’s neck

To force a touch

A surge of blood

Was instantly gushing…

Immediately

The chicken

Was thrown into the machine

And then

He fetched a scoop of

Scalding water pouring down—

It screamed again and again

That also sparked those chickens in the cage

A scene of screaming …

Whine

Weakened finally

Until it disappeared in the chilly wind—

He had

Already opened

His machine to stir…

After a moment

A naked chicken

Right under my nose

Was chopped into pieces

At the same time

The chickens in the cage

Had also calmed down

They

Began pecking at the feed

Feeding by their master

Some began to smooth their feather

Some crowed

Some were fighting for food

What a peaceful and happy scene it was

As if their fellows’ fate

Did not link together with them at all

Just now what had happened

Also seemed to be a nightmare

Now

All was calm again…

作者简介：

    张智，笔名野鬼，英文名Arthur Zhang，1965年出生于四川巴县。中国当代重要诗人、批评家、翻译家。文学博士。先后从事过多种职业，现任混语版《国际诗歌翻译》季刊执行总编、英文版《世界诗歌年鉴》主编。1986年开始发表文学和翻译作品。部分作品被译成三十余种外国文字。出版诗集六种，译诗集二种。

About the author:

Zhang Zhi, born in Phoenix Town of Baxian County, Sichuan province in 1965, is an important poet, critic and translator in contemporary China. His pen name is Diablo, English name is Arthur Zhang. He is a doctor of literature. He is editor-in-chief of Rendition of International Poetry Quarterly (multilingual) and the English edition of World Poetry Yearbook. He began to publish his literary and translation works since 1986. Some of his literary works have been translated into more than thirty foreign languages. He has published six poetry collections and two translation of poetry.

E-mail: iptrc@163.com

Xu Chunfang: selected poems

[中国]徐春芳
所见（外三首）
词语在夜的清醒里做梦
地球吐出宇宙的果核
这个世界的孤独
编织着五颜六色的日出日落
——拒绝了逃避别离和悲伤
众生喧哗。众声喧哗
天地无言。大美无言
我的肉体是天地写出的秘密
在天空的容器里
发出潮湿如白雪的月光
我的心像灌木丛里的红浆果
在沧桑浇灌下
闪耀着欢喜的红
每个人看到的
都是自己想看到的

[China]Xu Chunfang
What Meets the Eye (and other three poems)
Words are dreaming in the wide awakeness of night
The earth vomits the fruit pit of the universe
Loneliness of the world
Is weaving the colorful sunrise and sunset
— Refusing to evade separation and sorrow
Noises of all the living. Noise of all the living
The great earth is wordless. Great beauty is wordless
My flesh is the secret written by heaven and earth
In the sky as a container
To give off moist moonlight like white snow
My heart is like the red berry in bushes
Irrigated by vicissitudes
Twinkling with joyous red
What meets the eye of everybody
Is what he wants to see

壬寅春光帖
天空隔离了星辰和高远
水围住群山，如一条锁链
山河露出悲苦的脸
隐藏的风暴，随时
刮走一座花园
二月的枝头，春光小而嫩
垂丝海棠悄悄拧紧
提示节气变换的钟声
野樱花扬起白云

蝴蝶在春光里翻腾
梦张开隐形的翅膀
不想折翼于现实的猎枪
踏青的人，坐在草地上
浸泡在阳光里，比洗温泉还舒服
“别拽春姑娘的头发！”柳树下
一个穿花裙的女孩子
对一个踮起脚拉扯柳条的男孩说
说话时，落花越积越多
春已经深了，无人问津的退稿
——生活露出灰堆里挖掘出的碎屑
远方，一朵花如一口棺材
抬着春天轻轻离开

Ren-Yin Spring Notice
The sky has separated the stars and remoteness
Water encircles mountains, like a chain
Hills and rills reveal a sorrowful visage
The hidden storm, is ready
To blow away a whole garden
On the twigs of February, spring is young and tender
Drooping Chinese small apple blossoms are secretly screwing up
Hinting at the tolls of changing seasons
Wild cherry blossoms are in flurries of white clouds
Butterflies are billowing in spring
Spreading the invisible wings
Reluctant to be wing-broken by the hunting rifle in reality
Travelers of spring outing, sitting on the lawn
Bathed in the sunshine, more comfortable than hot spring
“No tugging at the hair of spring-girl!” Under willow trees
A girl in flowery skirts
Says to a boy tugging at willow twigs on tiptoes
While talking, a greater accumulation of fallen flowers
Spring is advanced, the returned manuscript in which nobody shows any interest
— Life reveals crumbs dug out from a pile of ashes
In the distance, a flower is like a coffin
which departs gently while lifting spring

春来帖
活着，春风荡漾
每天都是好时光
花繁且密，而软
寂寞和春花一样丰饶
野草和阳光一起盛装
樱花在我身体深处
采集到一声轻微叹息
鹧鸪在江南的屏风里
展开C位的清唱

这个世界躲在兔角上
无形的尖锐——
刺破若有若无的寂静
长江水浩浩汤汤。
万里的青绿浩浩汤汤。
春天是一个奇迹
泥土和天空在深度碰撞
阳光是母亲手中的毛线
让灵魂深层的寒冷大面积坍塌

Notice of the Advent of Spring
Alive, spring is billowing
Each day is golden time
Clusters of flowers are heavy, wind warm and soft
Loneliness and spring flowers are rich and abundant
Wild grass and sunshine are in attire
Cherry blossoms are in the depth of my body
To gather a gentle sigh
Partridges in the screen of the Southern Shore
Are singing without music accompaniment of C
The world hides itself in the rabbit
The invisible sharpness —
Pierces the likely and unlikely loneliness
Water of the Yangtze River is majestic,
And myriads of miles of green are magnificent.
Spring is a miracle
The earth and the sky collide with each other deeply
The sunshine is the yarn in Mother’s hands
For cold in the depth of the soul to collapse expansively

从泊湖开始
泊湖，你眼里的秋水
依旧有银鱼跳跃
芦岭，你眉间的烟火
荡漾着江山的婉约
每一朵云里都住着雨
每一滴雨里都飘着云
清风吹皱天空的裙角
阳光的字体，欢喜为世界签名
迷惘的但丁，被贝雅特丽齐指引
一个人走上成神的路径
妩媚的词语，从一束青丝里出生
你走后，繁华落尽的五月
摇晃蔷薇脚上的铃声
生活给了悲伤一半的股份

Beginning from the Lake

The lake, autumn water in your eyes
Still silvery fishes swimming and leaping
Reedy Ridge, kitchen smoke before your eyes
Rippling with gentle hills and rills
In each cloudy blossom there is rain
In each drop of rain there is a wafting cloud
The bright breeze crumples the skirt corner of the sky
The letters of sunshine, joyful to signature for the world
Dante in perplexity, guided by Beatrice
A person walks to the path of being deified
Charming words, are born from a wisp of black hair
After your departure, in May when flowers fall and fade
To shake the bell on the feet of wild roses
Life has given half the share stock of sorrow
(Translated by Zhang Zhizhong)

作者简介：
徐春芳，中国当代著名诗人。1976年出生于安徽望江县农村。已出版诗集《颂歌》《雅歌》《江南》《
徐春芳诗选》（中英对照），散文集《风从故乡来》。部分作品被翻译成英语、意大利语、希腊语、阿拉伯
语、罗马尼亚语、尼泊尔语、日语、塞尔维亚语、波兰语等多种文字。

About the author:
Xu Chunfang, a famous contemporary Chinese poet, was born in the countryside of Wangjiang County, Anhui
Province in 1976. He has published many poetry anthologies, such as Ode, Elegy, Jiangnan, Selected Poems of Xu
Chunfang (Chinese and English edition), and prose anthologies Wind from Hometown. Some of his works have been
translated into English, Italian, Greek, Arabic, Romanian, Nepalese, Japanese, Serbian, Polish and other languages.

Lidia Chiarelli’s selected poems are published on RIPQ

COVER OF RIPQ JUNE 2022

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