流行病时期中文日记 / from Mandarin Pandemic Diary
March 13
Today, everyone looks nervous.
Everyone is nervous.
No one laughed, no one kissed.
My wife and I kissed, but didn’t kiss.
Some of my students texted me:
Be careful. Wear a mask. Get sleep.
I read their words and I think I may cry.
It is difficult to use Chinese.
I have only a few words. I have many feelings.
This morning, I will bike to school.
I’ll talk to students. We’ll speak English.
Then, I’ll talk to other students.
We’ll speak Chinese.
Will I be happy? I don’t know.
But I can learn and think.
I will ride home to the sun this afternoon.
三月十三号
今天，每个人看起来很紧张。
每个人都很紧张。
没有人笑，没有人接吻。
我和我太太接吻，可是‘接’的不是‘吻。’
一些学生发短信给我：
小心，戴口罩，多睡觉。
他们的话，我看了想哭。
用中文很难。我只有一点儿话。
我有很多感情。
今天早上，我会骑车去学校。
我跟学生会聊天。我们会说英文。
然后，我跟别的学生会聊天。
我们会说中文。
我会高兴吗？不知道。
可是我会学，会感受。
今天下午我会向太阳骑回家。
* * * * *
March 17
The sky is grey.
My heart is not grey.
There is a tree in my heart.
The tree is grey
but also green.
A lot of grey,
a few green shoots.
Do you see them?
They are like little eyes.
They look at you.
They see each other.
They are small,
but they are very green.
They are like green raindrops,
green tears,
green candy.
三月十七号
天是灰色
我的心不是灰色
我的心有一颗树。
树是灰色
也有绿色。
很多灰色
小小绿芽。
你看到它们了吗？
它们像小眼睛。
它们看你
它们看到对方。
他们很小
可是他们非常绿。
它们像绿雨滴
绿眼泪
绿糖果。
* * * * *
March 19
I will miss them.
They will miss banana bread.
Before they leave, I must make banana bread.
I met them in Nanjing two springs ago.
My son lost his phone on the first day.
Molly found it.
Yicheng didn’t like Ezra Pound.
He thought Pound didn’t understand Chinese.
Ming called herself Tracy.
She felt Frost’s poems
needed more love.
I remember walking to the subway after class
in the warm Nanjing night, feeling:
it’s a lot of fun, these students, this world.
我会想他们
他们会想香蕉面包
他们离开前我需要做香蕉面包。
我两个春天前在南京认识他们
第一天我的儿子丢了电话
Molly找到了它。
Yicheng不喜欢Ezra Pound
他觉得Pound不懂中文。
Ming那时候还叫Tracy
她觉得Frost的诗
需要更多的爱。
我记得晚上下课在南京的地铁站走着
觉着：它有很多意思
这些学生， 这个世界。
* * * * *
March 20
I studied Chinese today.
I learned emotions.
I know angry.
I know happy.
I know sad.
I know nervous.
I know weird.
I already knew these feelings.
I will probably forget them,
but today I learned them more.
I’m almost finished studying feelings.
Tomorrow, I will study time.
三月二十号
今天我学了中文
我学习了感情
我知道生气
我知道高兴
我知道难过
我知道紧张
我知道奇怪
我已经知道这些感情。
我大概会把它们忘记
可是今天我学到了更多。
我几乎学完了感情
明天我会学习时间。
* * * * *
May 3
Today. My birthday.
Morning. My wife is sleeping.
My son is sleeping.
I ate a donut.
I had my coffee.
Now I write a few Chinese characters.
The sun says: Hello, little man,
how have you been?
Sun, I say, every year is good,
every year is not so good. I know a little more,
I forget a little more.
Every year you say: Hello, little man,
and when I hear you,
I feel big.
五月三号
今天，我的生日。
早上，我的太太在睡觉
我的儿子在睡觉。
我吃了一个甜甜圈
我喝了我的咖啡
现在我写一点儿汉字。
太阳说：你好小男人
你过得好吗？
太阳，我说，每年都好
每年都不好。我多知道一点儿
我多忘掉一点儿。
每年你说：你好小男人
当我听到您的声音
我觉得不小。
* * * * *
May 15
Last night, there was a huge storm.
This morning, sun.
New sun. Many birds.
I know many trees are injured.
They lie on the street. They are like old people。
I slept a little last night.
I read my diary.
I remembered the Chinese characters I’d forgotten.
I remembered March,
I remembered April.
Now the neighbor’s black cat is already hunting.
Birds, be careful, J.D., be careful.
I remember. I forget.
The black cat, like rain, disappears.
五月十六号
昨天晚上，大风暴
今天早上，太阳
新太阳，许多鸟。
我知道很多树都受伤了
它们躺在街上，它们像老人。
昨晚我只睡了一点儿觉
我看了我的日记
我记得了我忘掉的中国字。
我记得了三月
我记得了四月。
现在邻居的黑猫已经在狩猎
鸟小心吧，我小心吧。
我记得。我忘掉。
黑猫像雨水一样消失。
/ / / / /
A Note on the Poems
I have been translating contemporary Chinese poetry for the past few years with a group of Chinese students who are English majors at Salem State University in Massachusetts. Early in the pandemic, when suddenly we could no longer meet in person, I began writing diary entries in Mandarin to practice my fledgling skills in the language. The entries turned into poems, which I translated into English. Then, with my students’ help, I fine-tuned both the Mandarin and the English within the constraints of limited vocabulary and syntax. The results below are as much acts of language acquisition as poems, but maybe that’s what all poems are. — J. D. Scrimgeour
“March 13” and “May 15” first appeared in Poetry Sky.