小火輪

沉寂了不知多少年

里下河終於響起小火輪的汽笛的聲音

散發著重柴油氣息瀰漫水鄉上空

田野裡油菜花開得激情澎湃

銜泥的燕子飛得天空益發地傾斜

春天一天天老去

小火輪的煙囪

冒著黑煙

飄著城市裡的呼吸

水邊，蠶豆花的黑眼睛忽閃忽閃

看著小火輪帶來的波浪

洗涮古老的堤岸

夏收夏栽還沒有開始

秋收冬藏遙不可及

這是1970年初夏的一幅畫面

小火輪從里下河“突突突”地駛過

把一個少年的夢

捎向遠方

The Steamboat

Zi Chuan’s Poetry   英譯：張子清

After many years of silence,

a steamboat whistle sounds in the Lixiahe. 

A heavy diesel odor spreads in the air of the waterland.

Now the land has become a sea of blossoming rape plants.

The swallows, gathering mud in their bills, fly swiftly.

Their tilt makes the sky look more tilted.

Spring becomes older with each passing day.

Black smoke pours

from the chimney of the steamboat.

Its stale odor smells of city.

At the riverside, sparkly black eyes

of broad bean flowers stare at the waves

rushing and washing the ancient embankment,

waves stirred by the steamboat.

The summer harvesting and planting has not yet started

while the autumn harvest and winter storage

is long completed.

This was early 1970:

And This steamboat, chugging along the river,

carried a boy’s dream to a faraway place.