乔治·修拉（1859-1891）艺术中的社交隔离翻译：诗验室第二次醒来，数字手表显示：凌晨四时十一分“欧洲新闻电视台”（静音）在屏幕上显示着不同的国家与相应的统计数字。窗外，哥特式的树木忧郁的静物，苹果手机与两本散落的书籍《十九世纪法国艺术家》与《当生命陷落时》（佩玛·丘卓）修拉的《大碗岛的星期天下午》可能违反了保持两米社交距离的规定，画中形象完美的父母命令自己的小孩（很明显）要举止得当，一如那些刚从封城中解放像鸭子一样在当地公园里蹒跚而行的人，戴着墨镜的慢跑者绕着人工湖来回跑动，老人们守丧者一样凝视着湖水宠物狗系着绳（受命），排球混合双打似乎是阳光下唯一的乐趣 ——修拉笔下的大都市在沉闷而愉悦的朦胧中跳动着除波光粼粼的小河之外，还有游艇、帆船、与地平线融成一体的巴黎——但是，是那些帽子、阳伞以及梦幻的轻松气氛让我决定拿起红色马克笔，在两名骑兵、吹长号的怪人、争吵的男人、与偷窥家庭野餐聚会的抽大烟者之间画出“←两米→” ——《星球 C-19》会是一部关于滥杀无辜的隐形病毒（情节有点弱）且枯燥无味的“星际迷航”系列‘这就是生活，吉姆，它不是我们想象中的那样’（这么快就中了，史波克先生）我故意用很多“←两米→” 来“摧毁”修拉的精美绘画（丘卓）就“亲近恐惧”与“当下这一刻是最好的老师”提出佛学智慧，然后水壶开了发出病态的音乐。“瑜伽有机助眠茶”包装的标签上写着“耐心会有回报的”。“那些有吃有喝却仍旧不满的健康隔离者从来都不是英雄。前线工作者才是英雄” —— 当地免费报纸这样宣称。“欧洲新闻电视台”试图避开引起恐慌的内容，报道着人们在阳台上互相交谈、购物者来回绕行只为安全回到车上以及大量医院镜头、南美狮子大闹坟场挖掘机随时待命的画面。喝茶吧，不要摸脸。多年后，孩子们可能会在操场上高唱：“叮叮当，叮叮当，新冠来啦。咳啊咳，吐啊吐。我们都要倒”。还要多久，各大药店就会开始销售“抗新冠口服液”与“升级版抗新冠口服液”：“不要在开电动汽车时服药。”或者可能学校已不复存在，一如曾经的山顶洞人、作衣物用的动物皮毛、燧石用具与骨制针器 ——有人在半夜发了条带笑脸表情的信息：“如果你听到一只手在水池里清洗的声音，那么你就不是安全的。”
Social Distancing in the art of Georges Seurat (1859-1891)by Kevin KielyAwake a second time, the digital clock at 04.11 EuroNews(on mute) slides countries & statisticsacross the screen. Gothic trees beyond the window sillwith the sad still life, iPhone and two stray books Nineteenth Century French Artists andWhen Things Fall Apart(Pema Chödrön)Seurat’sA Sunday on La Grande Jattemay be breakingthe 2-metres social distancing, his perfectly painted parentscatcalled their kids (obviously) to order like those on a breakfrom lockdown who waddle nervous as ducklingsin the local park where joggers wearing sunglassesendlessly circle the artificial lake, and eldersare like mourners staring into the waterthe dogs on leads (by order), while the volley ballmixed-doubles seems to be the only fun in the sun—Seurat’s cosmopolitans pulsate in sombre sensual hazebeside the glittering river, yachts, boats, Paris on the horizon—but it was the hats, umbrellas, the dreamy relaxation that made me grabthe red marker and graffiti ←2Metres→ between his two dragoons, the freakplaying the trombone, the guys rowing, the pipe smoker snooping on thefamily picnic— A Star Trek episodePlanet C-19would lack actionabout an invisible virus that kills at random (weak storyline)‘It’s life Jim but not as we know it’ (Got it in one, Mr Spock)I wilfully ‘destroy’ Seurat’s beautiful painting with plenty ←2M→(Chödrön) offers Buddhist heart advice on ‘intimacy with fear’and ‘this very moment is the perfect teacher’ as the kettle boilsmaking morbid music. The label on theYogi Organic Sleep Teabag says ‘Patience Pays’. ‘Healthy lockdowners who are fed and fed upare never heroes. Frontline workers are the heroes’—the localfree newspaper proclaims.EuroNewsattempts to evade the horrors, shows people talkingbalcony to balcony, shoppers zig-zagging to the safety of their carsand then lots of hospital footage, South American lion coloured graveyardswith JCB diggers on standby. Drink your tea and don’t touch your face.It may be years before children in school-playgroundschant: ‘Ring-A-Ring A-Covid. Cough Cough, Spit Spit.We All Fall Down’. And how long before the pharmaciessellCovidoxandCovidox (Extra Strength):‘don’t take whiledriving your electric car.’Or there may be no more schools,as once there were cave dwellers, animal skins for clothes,flint utensils and bone needles—Someone messaged around midnight with laughing emoticons:‘If you hear the sound of one hand washing in the sink,you’re not staying safe.’
兰翻译：诗验室在秋田里信步，凉风扎人因为我感觉自己听见了你的名字。一个像旧皮革、破扶手椅、破洞袜、葡萄柚的微笑、落在地上的花瓣的名字。我会将你的名字塞进兜里、嘴角里，藏在我的胸口、置于我的肺旁。如此温柔的折磨就这样随我在桌旁梦你时潜入。春天会来的，花会从我的肋骨盛开。我感觉我的心脏随着每个日出扭转，就像鞋盒里的记忆或者柯达胶卷那样捉住光。
Orchidby Jillian Mae LeeWalking in the autumn fields, the wind pricks my skinbecause I think I hear your name.A name like old leather, ragged armchairs, holey socks,grapefruit smiles, fallen petals on the floor.I’ll keep your name in pockets, the corners of my mouth,hidden in my chest, stuck against my lungs.This tender torment happenswhen I dream of you at the dinner table.Spring will come, the blossoms sproutfrom my ribs. I feel my heart twistwith every sunrise, catching light like memoriesin a shoebox or a Kodak roll.
南岭记作者：吕周杭以我为参照物，逸夫楼开裂。AB两区考试的纠结选项，成合围之势用光亮的碗准确扣住一尾鱼铃声是汛期，人潮携斑斓降落伞，势能冲开大坝。动能留给排队与咀嚼一二三四五六餐，六块橡胶糖所有的嘴都在开会，所有的嘴都在消化含混着综艺，春招，金工实习的小铁锤南岭生活着我指挥交通，清扫落叶，偶尔为街道续好断骨二公寓。木板床上每晚，啤酒冒泡。月亮搭在潮湿的肩我们习惯睡前谈起传动轴，一些计划的期限气压骤低。齿轮旋转，成环岛模样德制机械臂，把盐均匀撒入所有开着的窗睡梦中目击霓虹尾，寝室漂浮。我们再次将头齐齐埋入西瓜在南岭手术台，一些誓言逐渐酥软磐石路上的蛋黄灌入松胀的饼，生态循环饱腹即惆怅。娴熟跨越月光后他三分熟的脊背缓缓缓缓渗出深色的墨汁
On Nanlingtranslated by PLSYifu Building cracks around me. The confusingoptions in an exam between section A and B, closing in from all sidesusing shiny bowl to accurately catch a fishthe bell is the flood season, the crowd carries bright-colored parachutes, with forcethat can break a dam. When moving, it can leave queues and chewingone, two, three, four, five and six meals, six pieces of damboseevery mouth is participating in a meeting, every mouth is digestingmixing with entertainment, spring enrollments, small hammers from metalworking practicein Nanling I residecommanding traffic, sweeping leaves, sometimes setting broken bones for streetsApartment building II.Each night upon wooden bed, beer foaming. Moon resting on moist shoulderswe are used to talking about driveshafts, a few deadlinesthe atmospheric pressure suddenly drops. Gears rotate, into the shape of a circular islandGermany-made mechanical arms, sprinkle salt into every open windowwitnessing a neon tail in the dream, dormitory floating. Webury our heads into watermelon againon an operating table in Nanling, a few promises slowly softenedegg yolks sliding into bulging pancakes on Panshi Road, ecological cyclesfully fed means despondency. After adeptly traversing through moonlighthis medium rare backslowly-y-y oozing dark ink
原谅的重量翻译：诗验室我们必须狠狠挖入原谅的重量掩埋头颅之处 无论是沙里 石头里 还是那些我们无法在口中找到形状的东西里&尽我们所能从切削我们称之为家的身之神殿时遗漏的缝隙中借助能够从骨髓中吸取的一切力量用双臂收集这原谅这石颈的仙鹤 这油鳗我们必须专注于感觉的自相矛盾&用尽全力向后挪动直至地面在快乐中在讶异中 在泥喉的兴奋中喘息记住空气&尽我们所能发扬这种起始的真理这一中庸之道直至就连小写之神的凝视也无法赐予我们恩典直到就连小众势力的疯狂蜇咬都无法尝出我们如果“救赎”一词意味着要造一个让众舌居住的房子如果有任何机会可以逃脱缚住我们的荣耀之状 & 确认别无他法那么我们就一定要遵循因为在这些黑眼与羽喉统治者给我们带来的潜在威胁之下只有原谅才能扫清道路
The Weight of Forgivenessby Matt Schroederwe must dig deep downto wherever the weightof forgiveness has buriedits head in sand in stone in something we cannot quite find the shape of in our mouths&try as we must to collect in our armswith whatever strengthcan be sucked from themarrow of our bonesthrough cracks thatleak from the chippingof these temples of bodieswe have named homethis forgivenessthis stone neckedcranethis oiled eelwe must fix upon thiscontradiction of a feeling& reel backwards with allour mightuntil the groundgasps in delight in surpriseindirt-throated ecstasy at remembering air&try as we mustcarry forward this truthof begin this middle pathforward until even the staplegaze of lowercase god cannotgrace usuntil even the stingingbite of minor powers cannot taste uswe must if the word redemptionis to make a home of the roomsthat house our many tonguesif there is going to be anychance to break away fromthe forms of glory that tieus down & say it must be sofor it must be forgiveness thatpaves the wayunder threat ofwhatever these dark-eyed &feather-throated rulers havein store for us
以目为囚作者：路边是的，多么没有信心的开头眼睛能看向哪里水草的睫毛从来不指引什么看吧看见孩子就一直认为拥有过童年看见被削平的塔尖便以为巨大的，一定垂立在某个角落看见色彩身体也会跟着斑斓介于黑白之间的心脏停跳于雨水冲刷的屋顶看吧看到婚礼现场便承认新人是一瞬间的衰老看见自整容镜反射而出的弧线确认那是瞳孔的时候也确认了自己继续看一直看企图将目之所及全部定义在铁门之内熟睡之后从别人的目光那里得到“这是梦”并试图再一次睁开双眼
Let the Eyes be Hostagestranslated by PLSYes, what a confidence-lacking startwhere can the eyes landthe lashes of waterweeds never hint at anythinglookseeing childrenand thinking you once had a childhoodseeing a truncated spireand thinkingthe enormous, must stand erect in a cornerseeing colorsand the body will become colorfulheart between black and whiteceasing to pulsate at the rain-washed rooflookseeing a weddingand admittingthe newlywed is the aging of an instantseeing the curved light raysreflected from a vanity mirrorand confirming it is a pupilis also self-reassurancekeep lookingand staringattempting to shut whatever the eyes can reachinside the iron gate with a definitionafter a sound sleepfrom other people’s eyesyou get that “it’s a dream”and attemptingto open your eyes once again
天使之合体翻译：诗验室大海的黑色肠道吞下一群沐浴在月光中的蝙蝠神笑了，抛下一口崭新的盛满优雅之浪的卡诺卜坛只为挑拨赛特与荷鲁斯之争神又笑了，黑暗将遥远的青山踩在脚下荷鲁斯哭泣 赛特昏厥神皱眉，发光透亮的黑暗裹住每一朵花古老的悬崖与可怖的螃蟹在清澈的月光下继续凝固可灰色的猫头鹰用羽毛将所有千层树的魂灵围住一如既往的胜利，帕拉斯从大角星找到北斗七星的诡异密术地球在天使之合体中返回
Angelic Syzygyby Diana ThoresenThe dark intestine of the seaSwallowed a colony of moonlit batsGod laughed and threw a newCanopic jar of graceful wavesFor Set and Horus to quarrel overGod smiled again and the darknessStampeded over distant green hillsHorus cried and Set faintedGod grimaced and the luminousBlackness enveloped every flowerAncient cliffs and ghastly crabs remainedTransfixed by limpid moonshineBut the pale owl wrapped its feathersAround the spirit of every paperbark treeVictorious as ever, Pallas tracedThe eldritch mnemonics of the Big DipperTo Arcturus and the earthRejoined in an angelic syzygy
静香作者：旎地平线绑缚你。焚身用色素欺瞒你，你才不至于陷得更深。在我之上橘子仍在学习今天的腐烂（停顿，至少三十分钟）往复锈石路，被遗弃的假象乱如麻。密友一一将我指认：子宫有意脱垂。湿润的婴儿不应背着自己行走观愈远愈臃肿。铃声长出一对空心的双乳。慈母吸吮我们到甜的鸟中去，到嬗变的灯笼里去。
Still Fragrancetranslated by PLSHorizon binds you. Burning with pigmentsdeluding you, so you won’t become too involved. Above meoranges still apprehending the decay of today(pause, for at least thirty minutes)Moving back and forth on Xiushi Road, abandonedillusions utterly confusing. Confidantes one after anotheridentified me: uterus intentionally prolapses.moist babyshould not walk carrying herself on the backThe further you watch, the more inflated it is. Bellsgrew a pair of hollow breasts. Devoted mother suckingusinto sweetbirds, into evolving lanterns.
春之杜鹃翻译：诗验室又一春：绿色炮口就地发出信号，年生植物在边界地区引爆；视网膜野蛮的埋伏。散步变成冒险，避开鲜花的齐射与绚丽的弹片。红之盛，橙之啼，黄之尖叫，水仙之火的叽叽喳喳。我渴望夜空温柔的绽放。然后我就看见它们……杜鹃，在黄昏中闪着微光令人神魂颠倒，花瓣眨着眼从柔软的紫闪到大胆的蓝。仿佛冷酷的火焰，闪烁着，蓝的神韵。他们柔滑的光，平息着我的双眼，安慰着我，在天鹅绒的时光里。
Spring Azaleas by Roddie McKenzieAnother spring: green muzzle flashes from the ground,annuals detonate along the border;savage ambushes of the retina.A walk becomes hazardous,dodging the floral salvosand technicolour shrapnel.The boom of reds,the whine of orange,the shriek of yellows,the zip and chatterof automatic daffodil fire.I long for the soft bloom of evening skies.And then I see them.... azaleas,fluorescent and hallucinogenicin the dusk, petals winkingfrom soft violet to bold cobalt.Like cool flames,flickering,nuances of blue.Their soft satin light,soothes my eyes,comforts me,in velvetmoments.
松鼠记作者：吕周杭树木对攀登保有母性。即使疼痛即使松鼠因庇护遗忘飞行，即使松鼠衰老，粮仓在地下氧化燃烧抑或他奔向新的阁楼，狠狠关掉朝向你的窗。唯独不忘攫取果实奉献且无惧背叛。至纯之爱莫过松木留给松鼠柔软的羽翼纵容天真与薄情暗暗掩住枯枝掩住雷声，蚊虫的繁殖与入侵钥匙旋开旱季时土地缓慢的龟裂蓬松尾鎏金。你爱看夕阳融化他仰脸思考的小模样。划破天空捧给他大朵郁金香。生活无危险你把他举到神的唇边，私有晚霞在肥胖的手腕系好幸运的红绫某日，根系触及他曾私有的房间皮肤上爪痕滚烫若新生胎记想起他狡黠的闪电，傲慢的夺取与椭型的回归轨迹。想起离去凉风与脚下的火山岩夜夜相对想起深爱不致挽留，即使虔诚想起树冠下，时间沙漏滤去耐心空气中盐粒跳动。想起澎湃的风淡蓝的河谷，一只松鼠展开双翼踮起脚暗暗生长的岁月一去不返
On Squirrelstranslated by PLStrees keep a maternal instinct for climbing. Though painfula squirrel forgets how to fly under shelter, andthe squirrel ages, barns oxidize and burn undergroundor he runs towards the new attic at a gallop, ruthlessly shutting the windows facing you. Only to remember collecting fruitsgiving and being not afraid of betrayals. Love of sublime purityno more than the soft wings pines left for squirrelscollusion to innocence and ungrateful love enshroud withered twigsthe sound of thundering, propagation and invasion of mosquitoskeys unlock slow cracks of the earth during dry seasonfluffy tails shine with gold. You like to watch his cute pondering faceshining under the sunset. Slash the sky openendorse him with giant tulips. Life is danger-lessyou hold him up to the lips of gods, private sunset glowribbons the rounded wrist with auspicious vermillion silkone day, the roots reach his former residencescratches on the skin burning like a birth markreminding me of his furtive lightening, arrogant stealsand oval recursive orbit. Of departingcold breeze and lava staring at each other night after nightof even the deepest love won’t keep one, however loyalof under the canopy, sandglass of time filters out patiencesalt particles dancing in the air. Of roaring windcerulean ravine, a squirrel unfolding its wingsthe days of growing furtively on the tips of toes are long gone
重写城市翻译：诗验室我怀念现已逝去的地方夹着汗味与烟味的气息摇晃的火炉和闻起来像清新泥土的坡度隧道。可在推土机撕开一切后至少还能为伤口消毒。更糟的是那些一成不变的地方城市并未开裂而是折叠与翻转搅乱你的视觉尽管材料依旧如故。人行道与门从天花板垂下的胸罩一名口吐红酒的手绘恶魔一个高级浴室挂架以及曾经弄脏我们衣服的白色泥墙他们看起来一模一样。这些僵死的摆设不再有人光顾或者更糟，有新面孔光顾冷冷地游荡在你最念念不忘的地方。那些被保存下来、曾经意味着某些东西的过道现已毫无意义就像这座城市已将你抛之脑后。于是你开始重写它你的故事关于刻板的新篇章重写舞池中的臂膀门口的一群吸烟者卫生间里跪着的人赤裸的烛光旁无尽的长谈。抹去一些脸庞吸入一些新脸庞像书脊一样因频繁使用而发皱那些抹除那些排挤那些驱邪一次比一次不完整。一家酒吧、一个街角、一个隐蔽的楼上房间、一张床在一个地方无法留给你任何新的记忆之前你究竟可以重复使用它们多少次？只是一塌糊涂的老地方黏稠而厚重地横着。于是你重新调整这些东西将骨头编入错位的组合。他们撞击与抽搐着然后在你随意书写之手的暗黑力量下彼此结合只是没有组成任何一个整体。
Rewritten Cityby Erica MartinI miss the places that are gone nowSmoky sweaty air Grates that shake And a sloping tunnel that smells like fresh earth. But as the bulldozer rips them awayAt least now the wounds can cauterize.Far worse are the places that remain unchangedAs the city folds and flipsInstead of rippingUpending your perspectiveThough the materials remain.Sidewalks and doorsBras that drip from the ceilingA painted demon who pukes red wineA very exclusive bathroom shelfAnd the chalky drywall that once smeared our clothesThey look exactly the same.These mummified sets now hold no playersOr worse, new onesTraipsing callously through your most haunted spots.Preserved halls that meant one thing now meanNothingAs the city turns its page on you.So you rewrite itYour storyOn the starchy new pageRewrite the limbs on the dance floorThe menagerie of smokers by the doorThe kneeling people in the bathroom stallThe long chats by unsubtle candlelight.Erase a few facesAnd draw in the newAs the book spine wrinklesFrom vigorous reuseAnd the erasingThe evictionThe exorcismGets less complete every time.How many times can you reuse a placeA bar, a street corner, a hidden upstairs room, a bedBefore it has no new memories left to give you? Just a chaotic mess of the old onesLaid on syrupy and thick.So you reshuffle the piecesBraid the bones into mismatched sets.They clink and twitchAnd fit togetherUnder the dark power of your scribbling handBut not into anything whole.
银歌作者：刘鹤尧没有忧郁行走在午后的白色庭院阴影盛大 飞鸟般哗然 开散无名之处蔓延着像动物优雅的爪揉捻心脏的力泉水之眼涌出银子的馨香这蓝天，轰隆作响洒下干涩的闪光没有忧郁一个瞬间预示着全部的时间我拒绝梦境，启示，或玄奥的金黄，像是脉搏烧断了它的弦要为了这爱
Silver Balladtranslated by PLSno melancholywandering in a white courtyard in the afternoongrandiose shade quiet as birds dispersingin a nameless spotcreep claws as elegant as those of animalsand a force that crushes heartsthe eye of spring gushing outthe fragrance of silverthis blue sky thunderspouring down dry flashesno melancholya moment foretells all momentsI refuse dreamscapes, premonitions, or esoteric gold,like a pulse burning its stringsall for this love
