Bio of the Author
Arthur Sze was born in New York in December 1950. He is an American poet, translator and professor. He has published 10 collections of poetry since 1972. His 9th poetry collection Compass Rose was shortlisted for the Pulitzer Prize for Poetry in 2015. His 10th poetry collection Sight Lines won the 2019 National Book Award for Poetry. He also won Guggenheim Fellowship, Lannan Literature Award and American Book Award.
Starting October 9, 2025: Arthur Sze, the 25th Poet Laureate of the United States and the first Asian American Poet Laureate, serving for the term 2025–2026.
作者简介：
施加彰 1950年12月生于美国纽约，是美国诗人、翻译家和教授。自1972年以来，他出版了10部诗集。他的第9部诗集《罗盘玫瑰》入围2015年普利策诗歌奖。他的第10部诗集《视线》赢得了2019年国家图书诗歌奖。他还获得过古根海姆奖学金、兰南文学奖和美国图书奖等。
2025 年 10 月 9 日起：施家彰（Arthur Sze），第 25 位美国桂冠诗人，也是首位亚裔美国桂冠诗人，任期 2025–2026 年。
Translator Introduction
William Zhou has been studying poetry for over 30 years and has published works in Chinese, English, and translation in domestic and foreign literary newspapers and magazines. Published 4 poetry collections, 1 poetry anthology, and 1 translated poetry collection. Received poetry, prose, literature, poetry collection, and poet awards both domestically and internationally. Editor in chief of the Chinese English edition of “2018 World Poetry Selections”.He was invited multiple times to participate in the World Congress of Poets and the International Poetry Festival. Poetry has been translated into over 10 foreign languages and published and disseminated abroad. He is currently a lifelong member of the World Congress of Poets, the Secretary General of the Education Branch of the Chinese Poetry, Calligraphy and Painting Research Association, a member of the Chinese Poetry Society, and a member of the Sichuan Writers Association. He is awarded the title of “Honorary Doctor of Literature” by the World Congress of Poets.
译者简介
周道模 学诗30余年，在国内外文学报刊上发表汉语、英语和翻译作品。 出版诗集4部、诗散文集1部和译诗集1部。获国内外的诗歌奖、散文奖、文学奖、诗集奖和诗人奖。主编汉英版《2018世界诗选》。多次应邀参加世界诗人大会和国际诗歌节。有诗歌被翻译成10余种外语在国外发表、传播。现为世界诗人大会终生会员、中国诗书画研究会教育分会付秘书长、中国诗歌学会会员员、四川省作协会员，世界诗人大会授予的“荣誉文学博士”。
Poetry by Shi Jiazhang, the American Poet Laureate
from 2025 to 2026
2025年美国桂冠诗人施家彰的诗
Tr. by William Zhou
(中国）周道模 译
Among Spruce
Before glimpsing outlines of whorled branches,
you smell spruce needles, know gophers lie
in tunnels below ground and sense their tracks.
You can’t measure the background tracks
of the big bang but believe in finding what
is needed when you must. A sea captain
brewed spruce beer during a voyage and rescued
his crew from scurvy; a famished hiker
consumed spruce needles and emerged out
of the forest. In the darkest minutes before dawn,
you won’t ever live to experience pure silence
but were never a composer yearning
for that nirvana. Standing in the cusp of cold,
you hunger for a hummingbird darting from scarlet
penstemon to penstemon in midsummer,
for a shearwater skimming over ocean waves;
now, in this dissolving darkness, you strike
a match and cup this second of warmth, this flame.
云杉之中
在瞥见有螺纹树枝的轮廓之前，
你闻到云杉针的味道，知道地鼠躺在
地下的隧道里并感知它们的踪迹。
你无法测量创世大爆炸的
背景轨迹但是相信在发现
你必须时需要什么。一位船长
在一次航海中酿造了云杉啤酒并把他的船员
从坏血病中拯救出来；一位饥饿的远足者
吃了云杉的针叶并走出了
森林。在黎明前最黑暗的时刻，
你将永远无法活着体验纯粹的寂静
但你也从来不是一位渴望那种涅槃
的创作者。站在寒冷的交汇点，
你渴望一只蜂鸟在仲夏时节
从猩红色的吊钟花飞到另一朵
你渴望一只剪水鹕掠过海浪；
现在，在这消散的黑暗中，你擦燃
一根火柴，杯握这一秒的温暖，这火焰。
Swimming Laps
Swimming backstroke toward the far end of a pool in sunlight—
yellow flares in the nearby aspens—
in the predawn sky, Mars and Venus glimmered—
how is it a glimmering moment coalesces, and the rest slides like flour through a sieve?—
how is it these glimmerings become constellations in a predawn sky?—
reaching the wall, I turn and push off swimming freestyle—
how is it we bobbed in water beyond the breaking surf, and I taste that salt in my mouth now?—
how is it, disheveled, breathless, we drew each other up into flame?—
how is it that flame burns steadily within?—
reaching the wall, I turn and push off swimming sidestroke—
with each scissors kick, I know time’s shears—
this is not predawn to a battle when the air dips to a windless calm—
let each day be lived risking feeling loving alive to ivy reddening along the fence—
reaching the wall, I turn and push off swimming breaststroke—
how is it I see below then above a horizon line?—
how is it I didn’t sputter, slosh, end up staring at a Geiger-counter clock mounted on a barroom wall?—
I who have no answers find glimmering shards—
reaching the wall, I pause, climb out of the pool, start a new day—
游泳数圈
在阳光下仰泳游向泳池的另一端——
附近白杨树上的黄色耀斑——
黎明前的天空中，火星和金星隐约闪烁——
一个闪光的瞬间是如何汇聚的，而其它的瞬间又是如何像面粉一样滑过筛子的呢——
这些微光是如何在黎明前的天空中变成星座的——
抵达池边，我转身并开始自由泳——
我们怎么会在破浪之外的水里摆游，而现在我尝到了嘴里那种盐的味道？——
我们怎么会蓬头垢面，气喘吁吁，彼此吸引到燃烧起来？——
火焰怎样在内部持续燃烧的？——
到达池边，我转过身并开始侧泳——
每踢一次剪刀腿，我就意识到时间的剪刀——
当空气下降到无风的平静这不是黎明前的较量——
让每天都活在大胆感受爱的生动，就像常春藤沿篱笆那样红艳——
到达池边，我转身并开始蛙泳——
我怎么会看地平线下然后看地平线上面的呢？——
我怎么没有溅起水花，晃荡，最后盯着装在酒吧墙上的盖革计数器时钟？——
没有答案的我却发现了闪闪发光的碎片——
到达池边，我停下来，爬出泳池，开启新的一天生活——
Dawn Branches
Owls hoot back and forth—
inside a pencil, peace
waits to be written—
gunshots, blood cries in streets—
shouts ricochet
in November moonlight—
this is not about last things—
drawing a curve, he sees the graphite erode:
he can never make an unending circle—
this is about anticipation,
your time on this planet,
this stark branch, sapphire light, steel rake noise—
this fern leaf ooze compressed—
these carbonized
griefs and hungers—
lifting sounds
out of the cauldron of silence—
branches of a golden rain tree emerge out of darkness—
黎明树枝
猫头鹰来回地鸣叫——
铅笔内部，和平
等待被书写——
枪声，血在街上哭泣——
呼喊跳弹在
十一月的月光下——
这不是关于过去的事——
画一条曲线，他就看到石墨的风蚀：
他永远不可能做一个无尽的圆圈——
这是有关期盼的事，
你在这个星球上的时间，
这赤裸的树枝，宝蓝色的光亮，钢擦子般的噪音——
这被浓缩的蕨类叶子的流汁——
这些碳化了的
悲伤和饥饿——
从沉默的大锅
正提升出声音来——
金雨树的树枝从黑暗中显露出来——
Architect’s Watercolor
An architect draws a watercolor
depicting two people about to enter
a meeting room, while someone
on the stairway gazes through windows
at a park, river, skyscrapers beyond;
he does not want to be locked
like a carbon atom in a benzene ring
but needs to rotate, lift off,
veer along wharves and shoreline.
In the acoustics of this space,
he catches a needle bounce
off a black granite floor, wanders
From a main walkway, encounters
prickly pear burned purple in wind.
In the ocean gusts before dawn,
he yearns for a Mediterranean spray
where sunlight tingles eyelashes,
where sand releases heat
under the stars. In the atrium,
two violinists launch fireworks
of sound that are explode, dissolves
into threads of melodic charm.
Here slate near a pool of water
absorbs sunlight, releases ripples
into the evening; and in this space,
each minute is encounter:
he steps out and makes
footprints on a sidewalk dusted with snow.
建筑师的水彩画
建筑师画了一幅水彩画
描绘两个即将进入一个
会议室的人，而有人
在楼梯上透过窗户凝视
公园、河流、远处的摩天大楼；
他不想像苯环上
的碳原子被锁起来
但需要旋转，升空，
沿着码头和海岸线转向。
在这个空间的音响中，
他捕捉到一根跳离黑花岗石
地板的针的声音，徘徊
从一条主步道，邂逅
风中烧成紫色的仙人果。
在黎明前的海洋风暴中，
他渴望一朵地中海的浪花
在那儿阳光刺痛眼睫，
在那儿沙子在星星下
释放热量。在中庭，
两位小提琴手燃放音响的焰火
这勃然的声音，溶散
于缕缕旋律的魅力中。
这里板岩靠近一池水
吸收阳光，释放涟漪
荡入夜晚；而这个空间里，
每一分钟都是相遇：
他走出来而在一条
雪净尘埃的人行道上留下脚印。
《美洲文化之声》简介：
《美洲文化之声》国际传媒网（Sound of USA）成立于2016年，是美国政府批准的综合网络平台，主要从事华语文学作品的交流推广。目前已与Google、百度、Youku、Youtube 等搜索引擎联网，凡在这里发表的作品均可同时在以上网站搜索阅读。我们致力于弘扬中华传统文化，同时提倡文学创作的思想性和唯美主义风格，为世界各地的华语文学作品交流尽一份微博之力。同时，美洲文化之声俱乐部也正式成立，俱乐部团结了众多的海内外知名诗人、作家和评论家，正在形成华语世界高端文学沙龙。不分国籍和地区、不分流派，相互交流学习，共同为华语文学的发展效力。
“传播中华优秀文化、倾听世界美好声音”，这是我们美好的追求和不可推卸的责任。
总顾问：森道.哈达（蒙古国）
顾问：蓬丹（美国）李发模（中国）、祁人（中国）、谭五昌（中国）、张素久（美国）、林德宪（美国）、萨仁图雅（中国）、周占林（中国）、北塔（中国）。
总编辑：韩舸友（美国）
副总编辑：冷观（美国）
副总编辑：Jinwen Han（美国）
副总编辑：Jiangyue Zhai, Esq.（美国）
创作艺术总监： 张琼（美国）
中国交流中心总监：夏花（中国）
编委：寒山（韩舸友.美国）、冷观（美国）、Jiangyue Zhai, Esq. （美国）、yimeng（美国）、张琼（美国）、夏花（中国）、范群（中国）、柳芭（中国）、紫晨（美国）。
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