千行

内容概要

宋子江，廣東人，現居澳門。曾在中國大陸，澳門，香港，澳大利亞，美國，菲律賓等地發表其詩歌和詩歌翻譯作品。

书籍目录

cloud travel

雲遊

I almost believed I was in the Old Summer Palace

我幾乎相信這就是圓明園

taking a taxi to China Town of Sydney

打的前往悉尼唐人街

finding a Canberra poet

尋訪一位堪培拉詩人

a philosopher on the paddock

牧場上的哲學家

through the vast dark

走過廣闊的黑暗

Laos

老撾

waiting at the border gate

關閘前的等待

garden

花園

an odd nail

古怪的釘子

strolling

散步

domestic economy

經濟

a young hosewife’s bachelor flat

少婦公寓

Macao and Taipa

澳門與氹仔

Hac Sa Beach

黑沙海灘

images and the imagined

意象與想象

sojourns

暫居之所

noodle nostalgia

吃麵

banished words

文字的流亡

before a hospital

醫院門前

jelly

啫哩

to birds

給鳥兒

classics

古詩

the cowherd in the mountain

山中的牛郎

scrapyard

廢車場

wintry green

冬綠

the process of reading a poem

讀一首詩的過程

writing history

書寫歷史

a gambler

一個賭徒

midnight musing

深夜禪思

a bureaucrat on the platform

講台上的官僚

puddings

布甸

pandas’ diplomacy

熊貓的外交

grass on the wall’s end

墻頭草

silenced

被沉默

作者简介

很喜歡這輯詩，有你生活其中的澳門，有旅途中的異國，你敏感的文字、細膩的觀察，偶然流露的幽默，有時帶點天真，有時有點無奈，卻是睜大眼睛觀看，常常從靜思中捕捉了出色的意象，成為令人印象深刻的詩句。  ---  也斯（梁秉鈞）

In his new collection, Chris Song Zijiang strolls from Guangdong to Bundanon and kindly invites us to join him. Song has a keen eye for the extraordinary in the ordinary -- from the philosopher wombat who knows the danger in Plato better than many who have read him, who, like Socrates “delved in the sky and / under the earth” and ended “hoping to // scratch the truth out of his body,” to a moment of waiting with a taxi driver on the way to the Chinatown of Sydney “for the next word / that won’t be said,” to an “odd nail / still wedged in the wall,” to reading Heraclitus on Hac Sa Beach, “the same as ever / but never the same twice.” This clear-eyed poet knows “legs / bring seeds / wherever they go... // so sojourns all / become grass huts.” This is a hut (like the one another stroller, Henry David Thoreau, built on Walden Pond) worth inhabiting for a while, oozing “a sense / out of no sense” with Mina Loy, full of promise. Strolling is a joy to read, and it will leave readers waiting for the next word, hoping that sharp something sticking in the poet’s throat at the end means another long walk soon, sowing silences as breathtaking as those in this collection. --- Steven Schroeder

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