《中国人》

布兰登·萨姆（宋）林木译

蒸汽顶得砂锅作响。玉米面煮熟了。

她说她的眼睛是瓷色的。元音转换

生成一种气场，一种光泽映照门槛。

元音成了咒语：一个我可能是我们，

一个我回响我们如何被看见也如何看见。

眼晴的认同。天啊，她惊叹道

被照片包围 —— 孩子们和孙子们 ——

在那里我是唯一的中国人。我该如何

透过家人的眼睛去看 —— 猫头鹰的眼睛

在眼睛里，还有一只在它的眼睑里侧过来：目 ——

我在桌旁和她一起想

把一个橄榄——黑眼——放进每片叶子，

那磨损的叶子上写着玉米地的田间笔记。

在玉米穗壳里的黑眼睛能看到什么？

Chino

BY BRANDON SOM

The olla knocked with steam. The masa cooked.

                           She said her eyes are china. The vowel switched

on an aura, a shine that sheens the threshold.

                                          The vowel was spell: an i that might we,

an i that echoes how we’re seen and see.

                           Eyedentity. Ay Dios, she exclaimed

surrounded by photos — niños and nietos — 

                                          where I’m the only chino. How might I

see through my family’s eyes — an owl’s eyes

                           in ojos and one in its lid turned sideways 目 — 

I wondered with her at the table where we

                                         placed one olive — ojo negro — in each hoja,

that worn folio for field corn’s field notes.

                          What does that dark eye in the ear’s husk see?