The Ruins

This piece by YE Hui is translated from Chinese into English by Dong LI

As the stone pillars have sunk to the bottom of the sea
The beams of the grand hall have to grow in the ancient forest 
Similarly, decorative patterns wind around
The twines on the branches

The remaining steps testify 
Geometry, compared to their spirit 
Is more resilient
A stray dog sits alone
Like an archaeologist from Chile

Are they the ruins
Or perhaps unfinished castles 
Perhaps I have arrived too early

All the private visits are barred 
From the cobble ramps
I do not represent the world, but I know 
The permission of its existence

Generations of petty officials
Fishermen, opportunistic investors, and so forth 
Arrived from all corners, at the foot of the hill 
Built towns and cities and
Crisscrossed between the sea and the silent palace

Now it is night
The streets have new names, on the porch 
The foreign ladies keep their fine silhouettes 
From ancient frescoes

Countless earthquakes and thunder 
Countless deaths in wars, murders in court 
And the mysterious curses

Ample materials take us through
The dark century and the flickering candlelight 
Yet they do not mention
The lost and mystifying play in the gardens

The inhabitants here are indifferent
But the sea is selfless, every day from whose bottom 
Shells, dead fish, and endless foams are pulled
Out and pooled

遗址

因为石柱已沉入海底
大殿的栋梁就只能生长在古老的森林里
同样，装饰花纹
还在缠绕枝头的藤蔓间

残存的石阶
证明了几何学比之精神
有更多的耐性
一只流浪狗独自坐着，如同
来自智利的考古学家

是废墟？也可以
是未完成的城堡，我也可能
只是提前到来

所有私人的造访
被挡在石砌坡道之外
我不代表世界
但我知道，它的存在已被什么人允许

一代代的小吏
渔夫、投机商 . . .  . . .
曾从四面八方赶来，在山脚下
建造集镇、城市
在海洋和沉默的宫殿间穿梭

现在，夜晚来临
街道已拥有了新的名字，门廊下的异国妇人
仍保留着
古老壁画中美丽的侧影，伴随着
 
无数次地震和雷电
无数次死于战争、宫庭谋杀以及
神秘的诅咒

详尽的资料，带我们
穿过黑暗的世纪和摇曳烛光
但没有提及
园林中失传的神秘的嬉戏

这里的居民冷漠
但海洋无私，每天都从海底
掏出贝壳、死鱼，还有无穷无尽的
泡沫

Read more from Issue 21.2.