「讓石頭開花」香港國際詩歌之夜2026嘉宾预告|大崎清夏

黑暗中我张开双手

[日] 大崎清夏

田原、刘沐旸 译

向着黑暗高举起双手

然后，请把手张开。

当四周变得漆黑

不见一物

不必靠眼睛，你将“看见”

手本就张开等在那里。

代替疲惫不堪的双目

右手会为你找出左手

左手会为你找出右手。

接下来，双手将开始摸索

摸索在那里的某个人。

四面手掌

仿佛是迎来交媾季节的野兽

将彼此交换温暖的体温。

向着黑暗高举起双手

然后，请画一画。

就仿照那张

两万年前某个人的血

和着土、油脂和树液，用这颜料完成的画。

当新画

叠上模糊不清的古画

曾经的墙壁成为世界。

生者的生活填满世界。

冰缓缓融化。

曾梦见的

曾祈祷的

以及希求的都映在上面

纷争将愈发激烈。

手不会停下描绘的动作

因为动作已不受控制地开始。

黑暗中高举的双手

请悄悄地，把它们放下。

警报声响彻街巷

即使到处都是泛滥的河水

你的躯体仍渴望运动。

──只要待在这里就没事。

──什么都不用害怕。

──需要的东西都有。

在人工制造的小小一隅

语言有时难解到

连所谓信任都在颤抖。

放下的双手，会拥抱

目睹难以想象的光景

孑然一身逃来的你。

Open Your Hands to the Darkness

Ōsaki Sayaka

Lift your hands into the darkness

and open them wide.

When all around goes inky black

and your sight fades,

those things before invisible

reveal themselves.

Taking over for your weary eyes,

the right hand will find the left hand,

the left hand will find the right.

And, groping around with those two hands,

you discover someone else there, hidden in the darkness.

Four palms come together

and exchange living warmth,

like animals exulting the changing season.

Lift your hands into the darkness

and begin to paint.

Someone’s twenty-thousand-year-old blood

resembles a picture,

painted in oil, soil and sap.

But when something new overlays

the faded original,

what was once a wall becomes the world.

This world brims with the fervour of living things.

And its ice continues to thaw.

Our dreams,

our hopes and our desires

are there depicted,

as the conflict intensifies.

Once the paintbrush has begun to paint,

it cannot be stopped.

Let your hands glide down

from the darkness above.

As alarm bells ring throughout the city

and the rivers burst their banks,

your body wants only to work.

─So long as you’re here, everything is fine.

─There’s nothing left to fear.

─Here we have everything you’ll ever need.

In the small spheres we humans create,

trying to have faith in words

can make you shudder.

I witness an unimaginable scene

as I wrap my fallen arms around you,

the one who fled with nothing but their name.

Translated from Japanese by Chris Corker

制造不会留存的东西

[日] 大崎清夏

田原、刘沐旸 译

我们制造那些不会留存的东西

能成为血肉之躯养分的

像一晚就消失无踪的梦的

或者是逐渐腐朽崩塌的

制造那些即刻回归土地的东西

我们自己也不会留存下去

比如彻夜讨论美的话语

长吻的唇瓣间漫溢的呼吸

从隔壁窗缝漏出的争吵

随着自行车越飘越远的小调儿

就跟这些东西一样

我们理应能够消逝

做到留存

本身极其简单──然而

我们近乎全部的日常

都是一边对留存的东西束手无策

一边又为其欢欣不已

有一些人为了留存一切

在记忆、记录与保管上

消耗自己的全部力气

这些人可能不是诗人

但他们认真、善良、有责任感

也有一些人只想留存美丽的部分

所以他们殚精竭虑

从各种角度探讨可能性

废寝

乃至忘食

我们都是临时性的生物

我们之所以需要集中注意力

是为了去尽情沐浴

理性疯狂与感性泛滥的循环往复

擅长物理的你曾说

“所谓人的情感

不过是临时性的不值一提的东西”

但如果没有情感赐予我们的

不由分说的丰饶，我不知道

自己还是否能如此愉快地百岁长命

让喉咙震动

让胸口震动

我们唱起不会留存的歌

被歌震动的空气总会

悄悄抚上某人的耳垂

混进大海和缓的浪波

微微摇动娑罗树的叶子

希望自己就这样消逝

渐渐融进光明

Making Something that Will Disappear Completely

Ōsaki Sayaka

We are making something that will disappear completely.

Something nutritious for flesh and bone,

something slipping away like last night’s dream,

something that will rot and crumble,

before returning to the earth.

We too will disappear completely,

like discussions of beauty all through the night,

or hot breath escaping from conjoined lips.

Like arguing couples and humming cyclists

heard through a nearby window,

we should all be able to vanish without a trace.

Leaving something behind

is actually very simple—or at least it’s true

that we spend so many of our days

rejoicing or lamenting

just how simple we believe it is.

Some people devote their entire lives

to preserving every little thing,

to remembering, recording and storing away.

Though perhaps not poets at heart,

they are kind, earnest, and dutiful.

There are those who explore

every nook and cranny,

giving up sleep,

and forgetting to eat,

to ensure only beauty remains.

We are all ephemeral.

And we must focus

to immerse ourselves in the recurrent madness of reason,

and to roll under the waves of feeling.

“Emotions are fleeting,” you once said,

drawing on your knowledge of physics,

“not really worth all the fuss.”

But without those fleeting feelings,

could I have ever known the bitter joy

of a long and fulfilling life?

Rising up from the solar plexus

and vibrating in our throats,

we sing a song that will disappear completely.

The drifting melody

brushes finally against someone’s ear,

consoling them with the thought

that it’s OK to mix with the ocean waves,

to stir the leaves of a camelia,

and then to fade away

like the retreating light.

Translated from Japanese by Chris Corker

“香港国际诗歌之夜”（IPNHK）是诗人北岛于二〇〇九年创办的国际诗歌节。IPNHK十七年来已成功传递了来自三十多个国家及上百位知名国际诗人的诗歌及思想，成为了亚洲最具影响力的诗歌盛事之一，也是国际诗坛上最成功的诗歌活动之一。IPNHK是“世界文学联盟”的成员，与该联盟合作并打造世界最领先的诗歌节。