【罗蔓简介】

Romaine Scott, 作家，出生于欧洲，现与家人居住在澳洲。除了诗歌创作，她还翻译中文诗歌，着重于写作介绍有关中国艺术家的文章。她的诗歌入选”百人百诗百米书法长卷”。现阶段，她正在创作一部有关"Homer's Odyssey" ＂荷马的奥德赛＂儿童小说和一部以悉尼和北京为场景犯罪小说。她是新华出版社签约的一位作家。

【My Father's House Has Many Rooms】

My father died 

In his own bed

Before the city din

Drowned out 

The solemnity

Of his parting

When light meets shadow

In a frozen tableau

By Caravaggio's hand

The only movement

In death's theatre

That night

Was the morphine 

That ran through his veins

Though the race was lost

Long before it began

His broken body

Unable to go the distance

Of the years

 

I have become a time thief

A thief of the past

My present a mere ghost

Moving through nihilism's passageways

In search of a poet

In his study

I sit on his chair

Its leather skin 

Grown cold

And lifeless

Without him

I pour myself a whisky

Drinking long and hard

Put his pipe between my lips

And draw in the sweet tobacco

Deep inside me

To taste what he tasted

Do what he did

Every night of his life

Without me

 

My father was young once

I find deckle-edged 

Photographs

Of a pale-eyed youth

Wild son of Alba

In tartan dress

With trouble in his eyes

To prove it

His arm is around

A red-haired girl

Who is not my mother

I do not know her

Did I ever know him?

And yet here I am

A baby in his arms

A child by his side 

Here hand-in-hand

Between both parents

To be quickly replaced 

By a bleached blond starlet

 

There are shoe boxes of letters

In faded blue envelopes

Written in many hands

To many addresses

Over many decades

By your many lovers

They are tied in bundles 

With coloured twine

Like precious gifts

Each a separate room

Some letters are addressed to me

Though never sent

I read them thirstily

Their contents

A saline drip

Into my body 

Parched of love

"Daddy" I want to cry

Into my empty room

"Where are you?"

【No snowflake in an avalanche ever feels responsible】

With Voltaire 和 伏尔泰

 

 

I should like to fall in love once more

Before I bolt my gate

Against the bitter gales

That billow and bite

The evening heart

I want to feel the tender breeze

Warm the silent earth

And coax the dormant bud 

From her icy sheath anew

To parade her finery

In a defiant explosion 

Of liquid colour

 

Words unlike my thoughts

Know no shame

And so here I sit shamelessly 

On this night of nights

Intent on clothing the naked page

By my hand

With night-time's indelible ink

As my thoughts turn black

And the world turns white

Outside my window

 

Snowflakes like words

Swirl unfettered

Beyond my gaze

Standing alone 

They are what they are

After all   

Innocent 

Or are they?

Like chameleons

They surely take their colour 

From the world about them

 

Yet snowflakes like my words

Given freedom to act

In a chaotic world

Collude like criminals

Abstaining from human morality

Independent of their master

They fall where they will

Assuming no responsibility

For their mischief

And we are left in no doubt 

Of their capacity for mischief

Are we not?

Monsieur Voltaire, well may you

Make your statement

The pen I hold between my fingers

 

【刺客之手】 

La Main De L'Assassin

 

刺客的手 美丽而可爱 

浅浅的白色

黑暗 这个诗人

隐藏得太深太深

在梦想的桥梁上

我被它迷住了

 

恶魔

欲望的悬崖

天使的翅膀颤动着

哭

没有声音

凡人看不见

隐藏在迷途中的

孩子的灵魂

人类纠结于森林

静默的泣声

却撕裂了焦虑

 

我内心的凶手

夜晚的复仇者

爱与爱情 无论

红色 白色 黄色

别怜惜我

给我个长痛

【La Main De L'Assassin】

 

 

La main de l'assassin est belle

Petite   blanche   douce

Ce poète de ténèbres

Cache ses arsenaux profonds

Sous le pont des rêves

Me tient sous son charme

Diabolique

Au précipice du désir

L'aile d'un ange

Tremblant    seul   pleurant

Ne fait aucun son

Caché de la vue mortelle

C'est l'âme d'un enfant perdu

Dans une forêt enchevêtrée

Déchirée par des cris silencieux

Des angoisses humaines

L'assassin de mon coeur

Vengeur d'une seule nuit

D‘amour

Jaune   rouge   blanche

Ne prend pas de pitié

De mes longues misères