slovensky english

The Global Village of I

Martin Solotruk

(The following text was written for and published in the Xichang Qionghai Lake Silk Road International Poetry Week 2016 Anthology.)

The theme comes to me as a universal sound of the Tao flow, that sweet nebula of the global band I have come to appreciate while losing sense of time in the Gobi, said Marco Polo, adding a few discreet gestures to the pole star that brought him here, to the attention of historic audiences brought about by the zeal of Kublai horses, acquiring ever more magnanimous effect with their universal breed of the language.

The following text is the flow of mind aspiring to come to terms with the playful juxtaposition of the theme without doing any harm to the horse of I that enables the ride of the apocalypse between the best of two worlds in order to create an empire of meaning out of shifting sands of the locally apparent. The sands that must be treasury like protected and kept in the state of critical mass by the wall of walls visible from without the sphere it rings out.

Polo, once invited to testify, thus dared moving ahead with his glottalic volatile speech, in an interview with the Tao, he gave in due process of embracing the patents of speech patterns developed within the Empire of the Heart.

antologia-xichang-qionghai-lake-silk-road-international-poetry-week-2016.jpg
Anthology Xichang Qionghai Lake Silk Road International Poetry Week 2016


There is a point poetry starts from. The poetry that has just started. The point in the mind that seeks its point of awareness of the face of the earth.On the immaculate map of the primeval awareness of the original point of the hands on experience of the point.

Of that mind that points to the fact. Of the very face value of the point. That searches for its point. Potently genetic.

Born and raised to the natural nationality of the face of the point. The colourful complexion of the dark matter, the point, that yields a perspective of a happy marriage of the here and there. Of below and above. Into a point. Erect as a universal arc. Of all projectable lines.

The Arc of arcs of plain points. Bare points swimming in their pool of oneness teeming with practical strings attached not just like that. Universally vibrant.

A pattern effectively semblant of any point in a way of a universal key turned as well as twisted by the pure race of a pure matter of pure mind that is all too local, pointillist determinist, scattered predestinist, a peer potato, a buried kernel, buried in a kernel buried in a kernel seeking the point of the first of the atomic chain of the offspring before the incessant Pangaea of the universal attention turns diverse into the blessed and cathartic points of multitudes of the kind. All across the universal local.

This poem is a global child at my threshold,

a found youngling of fantastic smell,

the inspiration that always comes as interbreed

of vectors, of the local cornerstone,

possibly found in the backyard garden, and the cupola

over all the winds of the local change and suffering,

the interbreed of the worldly breaths that expand the local lungs

to elevate them from the crosses of pain that guard

each and every village some are keen to leave, some enter.

The overflowing spirit of globally superflousless

unscrupulous jetminders

their sound of the overwhelming may save the day

of your native hamlet

judging from the Copernican distance

enjoyed by orbiting Galialiens

The poetry is the logos that all satellites

Keep humming

The gravity rainbow of all the minutest local

falling together while nicely rising like a cloud

of dust over the fields

into the always

differently vibrant global eye that captivates...

The word that holds all of its holders

The password to the moonlike earth basking in the eternal sun

of the radiant presence visible to all from anywhere

and leading with the poetry,

the banner of the local will aspiring universal might,

driven by the torch of the most particular,

of the fluidly ungraspable nano unconscious

rounded up to the shifting sands of weighing the airs

of divine inspiration emergent from without the void.”

我眼中的地球村

在我看来,这样的主题,恰如道家思想的一道亮光,覆盖地球的一团星云。马可波罗曾说他崇尚道家。在茫无边际的戈壁,他忘记了时间和方向,靠北极星的指引来到这里,且受到了忽必烈骑兵的热情迎接。因为语言使沟通成为可能,所以他受到了更多的关注,其举动一直为世界所瞩目。

在下面的文字里,我尽量保持与以上主题的对应,在不造成对两种世界思想精华伤害的前提下,在不断变化的思想流动中创建一个意义帝国,从而找到与地域性相通的东西。在人类出于闭塞时期,各个地方相互隔离,不同的思想仅在当地人的心中被保留和流传下来。

后来,当马可波罗被问及道家思想时,他用独特的语言和轻松的语气吐露了自己的心声,对道家思想予以认可与赞赏。

诗歌——地域性,民族性,世界性

诗,都有一个点,它是一首诗的缘起。诗人从这个意识的点出发,寻找最初的东西和生命经验。

表面上,寻找的冲动与起点的价值竟然如此原始。

因为民族、文化和生活环境不同,每个人对于它的认知也不同。由于地域的不同,同一个起点会有不同的表象;所有不同,就像同一个弧上的一个个点,终能汇集一体,相互融合,显其同质。

弧上的一个个清晰的点,游离原点又指向同一,充满活力,多样而精彩。

事实上,或者说很大程度上,原本相似的起点在以本土思想为上的纯粹的种族主义者那里被改变,甚至是被扭曲,几乎所有的东西都被蒙上神秘的地域色彩和厚厚的本土意识,如点彩派画家,到处找寻每一事物的起点一样;在原本相同的本质变得多样化之前,在各地用不同方式发泄本质之前,寻求事物的内核,挖掘其多元性,而,这一切都要经由具有普遍意义的地域性;这似乎是一个悖论。

这首诗是一个迈出门槛的世界儿童

散发出的幼稚而奇特的气息

其灵感来自杂交的航线,其基石是地域

也许藏在后花园里,也许在圆屋顶上

遍历沧桑与苦难

不同的世俗的呼吸扩展了地域的肺

让他们远离苦难的十字架

在十字架庇佑的村庄

有人离开,也有人来到

激情四溢,

他们肆无忌惮地呐喊

也许他们的声音能够拯救

他们的村庄

根据遥远的哥白尼

和伽利略的推测

是所有卫星转动的理由

不同的小的地域形成的彩虹

一起降落又一起上升,像尘埃像云

出现在田野的上空

进入各种各样

充满期待又不乏困惑的国际视野里

诗的词语吸引着人们

在诗歌的引领下

不论何地,人人都能享受太阳

永恒的光芒与温暖

因为诗,小地方也有巨大的能量

它由每一个具体的事物组成

诗记录着每一个变化

诗,是人类神圣的追求

诗乃空灵之物

Translated into Chinese by Zeng Siyang, revised by Yang Zongze

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