Where the day never ends – 天永不结束的地方 (translation in Mandarin and co-poem with Yao Peck Lu)

Thank you Yao Lu for your translation of “Where the day never ends” the preface to the upcoming new collection of short novels with the same title soon to be published by MeiGuiLu Publishing.

Basking in the sun at the berth – Photo by F. Marincola, Princeton by the Beach, California, Novermber 12 2023

天永不结束的地方

“……我去过非洲、亚洲和美洲，还曾环游欧洲，几乎所有的地方。我看见黑犀牛在恩戈罗恩戈罗肆意奔跑，狮子在塞伦盖蒂吸入自由的气息。我在清迈抚摸老虎，以及当我的孩子们出生时，我抱着他们。我在北京天坛向一位不知名的神明祈祷，在蒙塞拉特山的朝圣教堂向黑色圣母像祈祷。我跪在大教堂地穴里的圣卡罗木乃伊面前，跪在波托马克大街上空盘旋的雄鹰面前。为了逃离大峡谷令人窒息的雄伟，我参观了加利福尼亚州的脱衣舞俱乐部。我在美中观察丑，在丑中寻找美。我经历了太多电子通行证，往返于95号高速公路以及生活中的许多其他高速公路。

但在这里，在一天永远不会结束的土地上只有无尽的旅行，在这里，我想知道：

“这种被遗弃的美丽是什么？为什么是这种沉默的孤独？这一切都是为了什么？”

“也许，”…我很惊讶，“这是一个灵魂合法降临的地方，是信徒们渴望的天堂，有着普通生活中找不到的新鲜感，只因人们渴望一个没有尽头的开始和一种无限循环的纯粹。也许他们坐在长椅上，看着一个预示着开始的黄昏。也许，他们正在沙滩上散步，或者穿过绿色的草地。”也许他们转过身来，我已故的父母也在其中，盯着我，想知道我是否会加入…

“…也许”

Midnight at the riverbank – Photo by F. Marincola, Sodankyla, Lapland, August 2015

Original:

Where the day never ends

…I have been to Africa, I have been to Asia, I have been to the Americas, and I travelled across Europe, almost all of it. I have watched the black rhino run free at Ngoro Ngoro, and the lion inhale the scent of freedom at the Serengeti. I caressed tigers at Chiang Mai, and I held my babies when they were born. I prayed to an unknown God at the Temple of Heaven in Beijing and to the Black Madonna at the Pilgrim Church of Monserrate hill. I kneeled at the mummy of San Carlo in the Crypt of the Duomo, and I kneeled at the bold eagle hovering above the Potomac. I visited strip clubs in California to escape the oppressing majesty of the Grand Canyon. I observed ugliness in beauty, and I searched beauty where there was ugliness. I went through one too many E-ZPasses up and down I-95 and along many other highways of life.

But here, in the land where the day never ends; where only the ultimate travels, here, I wonder:

“What is this abandoned beauty? Why this mute solitude? What’s all for?”

“Perhaps,” …I marvel, “here is the place where the souls of the rightful come, the longed paradise for the believers in a freshness that could not be found in ordinary life, for those who aspired for a beginning without end, for an unending cycle of purity. Maybe they are sitting on that bench, viewing a crepuscule harbinger of a beginning. Or perhaps, they are walking along the sandy beach, or across the green meadows. Perhaps they are turning, my departed parents among them, to stare at me wondering whether I will ever join…

…Perhaps.