3. Ang Lai Sheng & Antony Huen

In The Woods

there’s no sign of the white smoke
hanging over the rest of my city.

Lamp posts are half-covered in moss.
Birds are only seen in the signs,

though I hear a pair in the canopy,
through which I seek the sun.

A trail leads me to the moon
bridge with rusty handrails.

It runs across the rapids that hold
memories of gold and black koi.

In my head I hear bells tolling, spotting
the chapel at the head of the trail.

by Antony Huen

心中的幽徑小道與山城

戴過方帽，倦鳥離巢後罕得歸來
山城在心的旮旯中如同舊時
曾以青春灌溉的花草已然茁壯
嘗盡滋味的人生，方解甘苦必然與共

山石草木埋藏了古風，謐靜小道
時而是社區貓散步，時而是莘莘學子路過
曙色降落順利橋無數寒暑，倦鳥離巢後
日子還曾安好順利，生活甘之如飴？

樹蔭漸漸被夜影吞噬，街燈也霎然亮起
蟲鳴夜鷹繁複交錯的歌，此起彼伏
在起落無章時，學會尋覓知音歸屬
學會豎起耳朵聆聽各種故事傳說

街燈伴晨曦照耀而熄滅，被劃破的迷霧散去
前方無車無人，浮雲動樹葉動，惟心不動
不動如山，不動如昨日的情懷
情懷裡有潺潺涓流，再重新滋養山城新芽與舊木

The small paths and mountain city of the heart

After graduation, tired birds rarely return to the nest
The mountain city unchanged in the unswept corners of the heart
Plants irrigated with youth have shot up and flourished
Having tasted life in all its flavors, one understands “bittersweet”

Buried in the green hills – the old winds, a placid trail
Sometimes the village cat on its walk, sometimes students on their way
Dawn descending on the bridge for countless seasons, yet after leaving the nest,
When have the days been smooth, or life as sweet?

Tree shade slowly swallowed by night shadows, the streetlamps illume
The symphony of the crickets and the nighthawk undulates
And amidst the disconcerted, learn to seek the belonging of a knowing ear
To prick up the ear for fiction and fable

Streetlamps extinguished by the first rays of dawn, the light-cleft fog dissipates
Ahead no cars, no one – the movement of clouds and of leaves but not of the heart
Unmoved as a mountain, unmoving as memories of yesteryear
And in these sentiments a gurgling spring, once again watering fresh shoots in the mountain city.

by Ang Lai Sheng / 汪來昇
translated from the Chinese by Joshua Ip

多數新加坡人都住在組屋（公屋）裡。圖片中，是循環路（Circuit Road）老組屋區，曦光乍現時的情景。老區的一日之始，一般在其樓下的巴剎（菜市場）可以感受到，那是一種人情、活力與為整日忙碌的景象。

Most Singaporeans live in public housing blocks, called HDB flats. The photograph depicts an old HDB estate, Circuit Road, lit by the early dawn. For these old estates, the beginning of the day can often be experienced at the wet market, located at the ground floor of such blocks. There, amidst the bustle of getting ready for a busy day ahead, you feel a great sense of human emotion and liveliness.

新加坡作為國際城市，特別是一到市中心，幾乎見不到老房屋，每幢大樓的新面孔、新妝都不斷地吸引著遊客，詢喚著本地人相信經濟奇蹟。而光鮮的外表下，其實是將很多比較不起眼、平凡，且有些骯髒的景觀埋藏在小巷中。照片中就是赤裸裸地，島國的「背面」。

Singapore is a global city. As such (and especially) as you approach the city centre, you hardly see old buildings and flats. Every building has a new, made-up face to attract tourists, and these brand-new façades also call on the locals to believe in the economic miracle. In truth, however, many mundane, ordinary, and perhaps even slightly dirty sights are buried in little alleyways, under the shining exterior. And so what you see in the photograph here is the naked “back side” of the island nation.

伴隨曦光乍現、忙碌工作後，第三張照片，展現的是新加坡在歷經一日（乃至幾十年）緊張快速的步伐後，歸心似箭的靜態景象。黃昏日落，夜幕漸漸低垂，而素有花園城市之稱的島國，開始感受到沙沙晚風吹來的餘溫，此刻人想要趕緊吃飯梳洗就寢，而樹木也想要擺脫日間酷熱，再次回歸本我。

Accompanied by the dawn, after a busy day of work, this third photograph depicts Singapore after an intense, fast-paced day (or decades, even). Her heart flies for home like an arrow, and the scene settles into quietude. As dusk falls and the night gradually descends, this island nation – also called The Garden City – begins to feel the evening breezes, made warm by residual heat. At this time, just as people want to quickly have their meal, wash up, and rest, so too do the trees seek respite from the cruel heat of the day, to become themselves again.

城市記憶

四季若夏，一雨入秋
氣候的轉換常使人措手
雷鳴閃電，干擾記憶完整形成
以致講述時有好多歷史鴻溝

可能成長的年代會封印記憶
會讓長成後無盡地想像去美化
去襯托出新時代的齷齪骯髒
根深蒂固得絲毫不肯鬆動

一道道斑駁的牆，小巷裡
所有斷井頹垣隔天都會消失
若無其事地聳立起新樓
路人越是找不到歸路

從時光傳來的剪影，影影幢幢
恍若昨日，恍若明日
而今日是外來人才的奔馳法拉利
準備起跑催油門時，震耳欲聾的警醒

街角老士多的最後一程
是將美祿桶當收銀台的歲月
用有線電台喇叭吹出的光景
還有小孩在tikam tikam試運氣

小孩出生臍帶剪下來後
藏在紅包封套裡僅為保存故
不再回看、不再念想起老去的母親
以及兒時拉著她裙擺時的蠢模樣

女皇離開了女皇鎮，母親離開了你
一道道時間的刻痕鑿入了骨髓
無以追捕的時光，已不再是生死輪迴
而是直線流淌，無法回頭的光速

Memories of the city

Four seasons of summer, and a fall of rain leads into autumn
A sudden change of weather often catches one off guard
thunder peals and lightning flashes, interfering with memory formation
leading to gaps when we recollect the historical record

maybe the growing-up years will seal up those memories
and in their maturity begin the endless process of imagining, beautifying
to show off the squalor of this new era
that has sunken its roots so deep it is unshakeable

within these rows of mottled walls and alleys
all these broken wells and ruins will disappear by tomorrow
and as if nothing happened, erect a new tower
and ever more the passersby can’t find their way home

snippets of silhouettes passed down through time in chiaroscuro
sudden as if yesterday, sudden as if tomorrow
and today the Benzes and Ferraris of foreign talent
and their deafening reports when they ready their feet on the accelerator

the last journey of the old store by the street
are the days where the milo tin was the cash register
and these scenes trumpeted by the cabled radio
and children trying their luck at tikam tikam

after the baby’s umbilical cord is cut
it is kept in a red envelope purely for preservation
they do not look back, or remember their aging mother
and their idiot-faced youth tugging at her skirt-tails

the queen has left Queenstown, and your mother has left you
time has carved scar after scar into the marrow
time unchaseable, no longer a cycle of death and reincarnation
but a straight line, irrevocably accelerating towards the speed of light

by Ang Lai Sheng / 汪來昇
translated from the Chinese by Joshua Ip

Your City

Now I know your city
is also made of green bins,
split-type air conditioners,
cycles, laundry-flags,
antennas, and rooftops
as the frames of the pink sky.
You’d watch it turn dark
as birds in an old tree warble.

But we began with shaved ice.
We walked to the Victorian theatre
for the bronze statue guarding it.
We mocked him, the coloniser
and founder of your city. We posed
as the half-lion that squirts water.
The night ended with a film poster—
I played the prince and you, the lion.

by Antony Huen