文／ 怀鹰 （ 新加坡）
英译／黄敏裕 （台湾）
风雪里的归人
才喝下年三十的酒
就已昏昏然走进夜白
吊在雪里的灯笼
摇摇曳曳
唱着连我也不懂的哀怨
小桥这一头的明月
看千里之外那一扇窗
夜归路望不到边
冻僵了的河水
从我发际轻柔地流过
A Homecomer
A Homecomer in the wind blowing and snow falling day
Having just drunk the thirty year old wine
Getting faint abd dizzy walking into the blankness of the night
The lanterns hung in the snow
Wavering and shaking to and fro
Singing the songs of sadness and griefs even unknown to me
At the end of the small bridge the moon
Is looking afar at that window thousands miles away
In the night from the returning road the end and edge are invisible
The frozen hardened waters if the river
Softly and lightly flowing amid NY hair
《树的相思》
为了那朵云
站在高岗上
等待，因为满头的苍翠
一夜之间披上皑皑白雪
而山脚下那河
唱着欢快的歌
忧愁化一曲鸟音
勾住弯弯的月儿
在光秃秃的枝上跳跃
直到那云偶尔路过
惊讶地撒一阵雨
青翠的叶子飞起来了
只听见
羽毛掉在山谷的回音
A Tree Thinking about its Love
For that flowery cloud
Standing on the high hill
Waiting, because of the overwhelming emerald green over its head
In a night's time it's clothed with pure white snow
Yet that river at the hill foot
Murmuring singing joyful and happy songs
Transforming sadness and distress into a bird chirping
Hooking the curved crecent moon
Jumping in the naked leafless tree branches
Till that cloud passing by by chance
Surprisingly showering a pattering of downpours
All the green leaves are flying and soaring
Only harking
The echoing of feathers stopping onto the valley
《引爆》
文／怀鹰（新加坡）
英译／宋铭（马来西亚）
在云雾最深沉的地方
藏着我的歌
有如雷鸣电闪
只等最成熟的那一朵
我的沉默
并非表示我已撤下火线
像哑巴一样
咻咻地喘气
我也是一颗埋在深山里的雷
带着浑身的火
蹿到天空的最高点
期待一次最亮丽的引爆
Being exploded
In the depth of the misty clouds
There is my song
Like thunder and lightning
In waiting is the most matured piece
When I am quiet
It doesn’t mean I have removed my fire tube
Gasping for breath
Like a dummy
I am also a thunder in the depth of mountain
My body is fire
Could be emitted into the highest point of the sky
While looking forward for a glorious explosion
《归来》
自远方归来
记忆中的月亮
白了
屋檐下筑巢的燕子
去了又来，来了又去
不忍回首
归来、归来
可我寻觅的牌坊
却在月亮的注视下
化一堆尘土……
Homeward Bound
Returning home from a remote land
The moon in my memory has turned
Pale white
The sparrows nesting under the roof
Have gone and returned, and have gone again
They could not bear to turn back
O come back, come back
But the stone arch that I am looking
Has turned into a pile of soil
Under the watch of the moon
作者简介：
怀鹰，祖籍福建南安，新加坡公民。曾在新传媒服务14 年，也曾在《联合早报》担 任电子版编辑。出版30 本著作。担任历届新加坡文学奖、金笔奖、冰心文学奖（新加坡 地区）评审。
An Introduction of the Author
Huai Ying, was born in Singapore to Chinese parents who originally came from Fujian Nan'an. He has served in Singapore Press Holding Company for 14 years, and also worked as an electronic editor of Lianhe Zaobao. He has published 30 books. He is a judge of The Singapore Literature Prize, Golden Point Award, Bingxin Literature Prize (Singapore Region).
本期编辑：淑文
投稿信箱：lukasipoem@hotmail.com