2017年8月30日星期三

尧西达孜的蜘蛛,及Ian Boyden的英译

尧西达孜:尊者达赖喇嘛家族在拉萨的府邸,今已废墟化。(唯色拍摄于2013年夏天)


尧西达孜的蜘蛛


唯色

那天下午阳光猛烈
照耀在一张张平凡的脸上
脸是金色的,如被点石成金,变得异常宝贵

走过江苏路。是的,拉萨南面的江苏路
这违和感十足的命名,本不属于这里,你懂的
我比他俩年长,是个头矮小的阿佳[1]
我们说藏语。兼说汉语和英语,但我只会汉语和藏语
身后有人尾随。几个人?
就像甩不掉的尾巴,拐角处的獐头鼠目
被吞噬了小心肝的可怜虫
路边树荫下,散坐着开店的外地人,脸上无光
所谈论的,与生意有关,便添了几分焦躁

走过北京中路,这座圣城早已嵌满类似命名
就像一个个占领,谁都不足为奇,习以为常
阳光啊金色的阳光,将身影长长地投射在地面的花砖上
将挂在高处的、各处的摄像头,投射在我们的身上、
所有人的身上……似乎脊背发凉,但管他呢
我不愿回头张望,或停止不前
大步走着,咧嘴笑着,我们都很帅
珍惜这貌似自由的时刻,争相叹道:“好幸福!”

径直右拐:这是第几回看见尧西达孜[2]
依尊者家族冠名的府邸,六十多年前建成,一半已成废墟
不过我不想复述历史:最初的欢聚,迅速降至的无常
包括被迫弃之,饮泣而走,被外人霸占:穿绿衣的、
穿蓝衣的,各色人等乃饿鬼投胎,寄居蟹的化身
如今,旧时的林苑,成了停车场、川菜馆、大商场
主楼与外院多处坍塌,几乎没有完好的窗户
有一次,我们站在商场顶层,居高临下
惊讶于它像无法愈合的伤疤
惊讶于它原来离颇章布达拉[3],这么近,这么近
含泪自责:无能为力的废物啊

步入空旷的外院:一半杂草、野花
一半停放自行车、摩托车,就像一个用处不大的仓库
一对像是打工者的男女提着塑料袋擦身而过
四五头漆黑而高大的獒犬,锁在楼下的角落
仅能露出锋利的牙齿、绝望的眼神,仅能发出无用的狂吠
它们属于附近开饭馆的四川老板,是他待价而沽的商品
数日后再次潜入,碰到他来喂食
摆出主人架势,但虚张声势的驱逐并未生效
就叫来穿保安制服的男子,是藏人
我便用藏语反问:“谁才是这里真正的主人?”
令他无措,呐呐不成句

从遍地垃圾的底层上楼
屏息穿过裂缝交错的回廊
几排当年购自印度的铁栏杆虽已生锈却还结实
连串的花纹与阳光下的倒影构成虚实不明的异域迷宫
凭栏环视,原本的白墙斑驳,黑色的窗框开裂
雕绘了神兽、祥云与莲花的檐头,竭力支撑着架构房屋的朽木
而在十几根柱子依次排列的阴暗大厅,乱扔着几件劣质桌椅
应是被最后的搬迁者废弃。几束光线
自一排天窗斜射而入,尘埃飞舞,幻影幢幢
如昔日头戴面具的僧侣缓缓跳起羌姆[4]
我注意到靠近西北面的窗户,由缺口如刀刃的玻璃
恰好望见颇章布达拉,似乎也能望见,忧虑中有担当的尊贵青年
一转身,却被柱子上悬挂的一面残破镜子所惊
那里面,有一个无依无靠的自己,带着渴望隐遁的神情
我不敢靠近,怕瞥见1959年深夜一个个仓惶离去的身影
怕听见已在异国度过许多岁月的尊者低语:
“你的家、你的朋友和你的祖国倏忽全失……”[5]

会不会,我的前世恰在此处生息,经受了所有诀别?
会不会,曾经痛不欲生,却又为苟活费尽心机?
陡然升起逃离的愿望,但仍徘徊于布满某种痕迹的房间:
有的墙上贴着旧日当红的香港明星头像
二十多年前的《西藏日报》有中共十四大的消息
一幅临摹布达拉宫的印刷品破烂不堪
有的门上贴着中文写的“福”和“新年大发”
长髯飘飘的中国门神右手持宝塔左手举铁锤
有的门已重换,用红漆刷了两个很大的中文:“办 公”
有的门上贴着一张惨白封条,上书“二00五年元月七日封”……
某个角落,一具骷髅状的羊头有一对空洞无物的眼眶
一对烧焦的羊角弯曲伸延着,像是曾经拼命呼救
某个角落,原本用阿嘎[6]夯打的地面不复存在
却从泥土的地表长出一株小草,居然生机勃勃
另一处,扔着巴掌大的木块,应从往昔华丽的柱头脱落而坠
彩绘犹存,雕刻亦在,像老屋的缩影,我悄悄地放入背包

以系在胸前的一粒绿松石[7]为隐秘的指引
最终我命定般地遇见了它:特嗡母[8]
高悬在一扇倾颓的窗户外那危险的半空中飘荡着
受困于自己吐丝织成却几乎看不见的网上飘荡着
它已成一具干尸,如临深渊:这一片的塌陷尤其惨烈
它是这里唯一死亡的生命吗?
它是这里唯一存在的守护者吗?
它不自量力的布局,是想捕捉不邀而至的恶魔吗?
它像另一面镜子,垂挂在我的眼前,逆光中骨骸漆黑
以某种挣扎的形状,变成一个隐喻,我不敢触碰,怕它瞬时消失
想当年,在此相伴共生的动物一定不只它一种
一定有猫,也有老鼠
一定有狗,那是拉萨特有的阿布索[9],主人的宠物
在佛堂、客厅和睡房跑来跑去或安然入眠
而大狗,我指的是从牧场带来的獒犬,与看门人呆在一起
在院子里,在大门口,忠心耿耿,不容侵犯……

特嗡母,这是蜘蛛的藏语发音,“母”为轻声,几近于无
特嗡母哒,这是蜘蛛网的藏语发音,“母”仍细微,如被吞咽
虽比其他众生的生命力更顽强,更容易藏身他处而幸存
但也更容易孤独无告地死于非命
毕生编织着“天生就像一座监禁宿敌的城堡”[10]之世间网
却被自缚,难以自拔,恰似我们啊我们莫测的命运……

2017-7-319-19,北京

注释:

[1]阿佳:ཨ་ཅག藏语,姐姐。
[2]尧西达孜:ཡབ་གཞིས་སྟག་འཚེར།藏语,十四世达赖喇嘛的家族之名。依传统也是房名。尊者家族从安多迁至拉萨之后盖的府邸,也冠此名,位于拉萨城中心,距离布达拉宫很近。
[3]颇章布达拉:ཕོ་བྲང་པོ་ཏཱ་ལ།藏语,布达拉宫。
[4]羌姆:འཆམ།藏语,金刚法舞,由僧侣演示。
[5]这句话引自《雪域境外流亡记》第75页,尊者达赖喇嘛语,约翰.F.艾夫唐著,台湾慧炬出版社出版。
[6]阿嘎:ཨར་དཀར།藏语,白色物质。藏地特有的一种建筑材料,风化的石灰岩或沙粘质岩类被捣成的粉未,一般用于建筑物的房顶及地面。施工时,将其掺水砸实、磨光,建成后平整、光滑、坚实,不渗水,有如水泥。有民歌:“阿嘎不是石头,阿噶不是泥土,阿嘎是深山里的莲花大地的精华。
[7]绿松石:གཡུ།藏语,在藏地民间又称“魂石”,曲杰·南喀诺布先生写道:“根据藏族传统,灵魂可指一个依处或被拟人化为一件东西,如一块宝石、一座山、一个湖泊等。”绿松石即“一块充任具誓神灵‘依处’的魂石。”出处见注释10
[8]特嗡母:སྡོམ།藏语,蜘蛛。蜘蛛网,སྡོམ་གྱི་དྲ་བ།།藏语,特嗡母哒。
[9]阿布索:ལྷ་ས་ཨབ་སོབ།藏语,Lhasa Apso,拉萨狮子犬。
[10]这句话引自《苯教与西藏神话的起源——“仲”、“德乌”和“苯”》,第19页。曲杰·南喀诺布著,向红茄、才让太译,中国藏学出版社,2014年。

“The Spider of Yabzhi Taktser”
By Woeser

Translation by Ian Boyden
That afternoon the savage light
fell on ordinary, worldly faces,
the faces golden
as if stone were turned to gold,
transformed into unusual treasure.
We walked Jiangsu Road [1]. Yes,
the Jiangsu Road in the southern part of Lhasa.
The road’s name is a violation that does not belong here—
     you understand?
Although I am older than my two friends,
I’m an acha [2] who’s a full head shorter.
We spoke Tibetan, Chinese, and English,
although I only speak Chinese and Tibetan.
We were followed, I don’t know by who or how many.
They were like tails we couldn’t shake loose.
They stood there on the corners,
their eyes like cunning rats,
with their tiny swallowed hearts,
such trembling, wretched obsequious worms.
And there in the shadows of the roadside trees
people milled about outside of shops
their faces void of light
discussing business
riddled with anxiety.
We walked through Central Beijing Road [3],
this holy city so long ago embedded with foreign names.
Each name is like its own occupation—one after another,
everyone’s grown so accustomed to them,
no one knows to think the names are strange.
Sunshine, ah, golden sunshine,
our warm shadows fell long across the colorful floor tiles.
Surveillance cameras everywhere [4]
hung in the high places
their eyes fell upon our bodies
on everyone’s bodies—
     it seemed our backs grew cold.
Even so, I didn’t want to turn my head to look.
I didn’t want to stop,
I just wanted to keep going forward
and so we walked with long strides.
We grinned and laughed—
we were so handsome
cherishing this moment of apparent freedom
and together we sighed the slogan of the oppressor
          “So Happy and Blessed!” [5]
Go straight, then turn right—
how many times have I returned to visit Yabzhi Takster?[6]
This mansion which carries the family name of His Holiness [7]
was built more than sixty years ago, half of it already in ruins.
However, I don’t want to retell history—
the earliest happy gathering,
the rapid tumble to impermanence
after being forced to abandon it,
the tears they shed while leaving.
Those who occupied it were outsiders
who wore green clothes, blue clothes,
outsiders reincarnated as hungry ghosts,
reincarnated as hermit crabs occupying the shell of another.
Today, the ancient orchards and gardens
have become a parking lot
a Sichuan restaurant
a shopping mall.
Many parts of the main building
and the outer courtyards have collapsed,
almost no windows still intact.
We stood on the roof of a nearby market
and looked down.
I was astonished at this huge wound that cannot be healed
astonished to see the mansion was so close to the Phodrang Potala [8]
     —so close, so close.
I harbored tears filled with self-criticism:
I’m an incapable, powerless waste.
We walked into the empty wilderness of the outer courtyard
half-filled with weeds and wildflowers,
half-filled with bicycles and motorcycles.
A senseless warehouse.
A man and woman who seemed like workers
passed by carrying plastic bags.
Four or five tall, lacquer-black mastiffs [9]
were chained in a corner downstairs
their eyes of desperation.
They could only show their sharp teeth,
could only utter futile barks.
They belonged to the owner of a nearby Sichuan restaurant
who was waiting to sell them at a good price.
A few days later when we snuck in again
we ran into him as he came to feed them.
He assumed the posture of the owner
but his bluff to expel us had no effect.
He called a man wearing a security uniform—a Tibetan—
to rid the place of us.
But I asked him in Tibetan, “Who is the real owner of this place?”
My question rendered him helpless,
    na, na, unable to form a sentence.
Walking up the stairs from the garbage-strewn ground floor
we held our breath as we passed
through a winding corridor crosshatched with cracks.
A few rows of iron railings purchased from India
had bloomed rust but were still sturdy,
their consecutive patterns of sunlight and shadow
framing an unknowable maze like a foreign country.
We leaned on a railing and looked around.
The original white walls were mottled,
the black window frames had split apart,
the ends of the eaves were carved
with sacred animals, magic clouds, and lotus flowers.
Rotten wood strained
to support the structure of the mansion
and in a dark hall lined with ten or so columns
several shabby tables and chairs were scattered about,
discarded by the last people who left.
A few beams of light
fell obliquely from a clear story
through flying dust, flickering phantoms
as if they were monks wearing masks slowly performing Cham [10]
I noticed a window to the northwest
through this opening lined with blades of glass
I could perfectly see the Phodrang Potala
and it seemed like I was looking into the past,
and saw, within all the worry and grief
of the first years of the occupation,
the commitment of the Venerable Youth [11].
I turned from this only to be shocked again
by a broken mirror hanging from a pillar.
I hung there, reflected as a helpless Self
carrying an expression
of the desire to hide from the world.
I didn’t dare get closer,
I was scared I might catch a glimpse of a singular shadow
fleeing in a panic in the middle of the night,
1959.
I was scared I might hear His Holiness
who has passed most of his life in foreign countries,
might hear him whisper:
      “Your home, your friends, your country—suddenly lost…” [12]
Is it possible
I lived here in a previous life?
That I endured all the parting?
Is it possible
in the past I was in so much pain
I did not want to live,
yet exhausted my mind just to survive?
Unexpectedly there rose the desire to escape
but still I lingered in this room filled with vestigial traces:
the walls covered with old portraits of popular Hong Kong stars,
a front page of Tibet Daily from over twenty years ago
covering news of the 14th National Congress of the Chinese Communist Party,
a completely shredded print of the Potala Palace,
Chinese characters pasted to some of the doors
reading “Blessing” and “Great Prosperity in the New Year.”
Another door carried the Chinese word “Office” written in red lacquer
and pasted to yet another door, a deathly pale seal:
    Petition presented on January 5, 2005…
And a long-bearded Chinese door god,
his right hand holding a pagoda,
his left hand lifting an iron hammer.
In one nook there was a goat skull with a pair of empty eyes
its two burned horns curling out
as if in the past it were desperate for help.
In another nook, the original arkar [13] floor was gone
and from the cracks there grew small blades of grass
full of life.
In another spot, a chunk of wood the size of your hand—
which must have been a gorgeous column cap that fell long ago:
the paint still there
the carving still there.
It was the essence of this ancient house—
I quietly slipped it into my backpack.
A single piece of turquoise [14] hangs from my neck
it is my secret guide
that led me to the destiny of my next encounter:
            Dom! [15]
Hanging outside a broken window
and floating dangerously in midair,
dom, a spider trapped in threads it spit out itself,
floated on a web so thin it could almost not be seen.
It had already become a mummy
looking into the abyss,
into a section of tragic collapse.
Was it the only dead bit of life here?
Was it the only existing guardian here?
Had it overestimated its own position?
Had it wanted to capture these invincible demons?
Hanging in front of my eyes, the spider was another mirror,
its lacquer-black carapace glimmering in the traitorous light.
Through some kind of struggle, it had become a metaphor.
I dared not touch it, afraid that in that instant
it might disappear.
I think back to those years.
This symbolic animal must not have been the only one of its kind,
and there must have been the host’s house pets too—
there must have been cats and mice
and dogs, the special Lhasa apso, running back and forth
from the Buddha hall to the living room and the bedrooms
perhaps peacefully falling asleep.
And surely a big dog too?
I mean a mastiff from the grasslands.
He would have stayed in the yard with the gatekeeper,
stood at the entrance of the main gate—loyal, devoted, invincible.
Dom—this is how one says “spider” in Tibetan
     the m soft, almost non-existent.
Domthag—this is how one says “spider web”
     the m subtle as if it were being swallowed.[16]
Compared with other lifeforms
the spider’s vitality is perhaps more tenacious:
it is easier for it to hide itself in another place and survive.
And yet it is also easier for the spider to die alone
in a violent, unnatural death that goes unreported.
This spider, “born like a fortress to imprison enemies,” [17]
wove the world into a lifetime of web,
bound by and to itself,
unable to extricate itself from its own threads—
just like us
and our unfathomable fate.
Woeser
Beijing
July 31 – August 3, 2017
Translated by Ian Boyden
San Juan Island
September 19, 2017

Translator’s note: This is poem of extraordinary scale and complexity. I called on many of my friends to help me figure out how to render it into English. My deepest thanks to Rong Sun, Dechen Pemba, Jim Canary, Jennifer Boyden, and Sam Hamill for their insights and suggestions. And my great gratitude to Woeser for her patience with my many questions as I worked to understand the poem as completely as I possibly could.
[1] Jiangsu Road. Almost all the endnotes to this poem have to do with names and language, and how they constitute one of the primary means by which we form cultural identity. After the Chinese occupied Tibet in the 1950s, they quickly started to attack the Tibetan language. They renamed the streets, buildings, and cultural landmarks with Chinese names, even changing the names of mountains and rivers. Chinese was declared the state language, children were forced to attend Chinese schools, official documents were written in Chinese, and so forth. These foreign names are much more than symbolic, they are like weapons of the occupier, slowly erasing the cultural memory of Lhasa and Tibet as a whole. If you look at Tibet today on Google Maps, you will see this erasure in action, you will see a landscape of Chinese names. In the case of Jiangsu Road, Jiangsu is a province in eastern China, a part of historical Han China. Jiangsu has nothing to do with historical Tibet. The road was given this name on August 27, 1997 in “honor” of Jiangsu province funding the Chinese “modernization” of this part of Lhasa. What was Jiangsu Road before it was Jiangsu Road? It was a road called Golden Pearl Road built by the People’s Liberation Army shortly after they occupied the city in 1959. Before that, there was no road at all—it was a giant stretch of forested parks, foot paths, and little streams. When the PLA entered Lhasa they cut down this area and turned it into a military barracks, which were then linked by this new road. ↩
[2] Acha (ཨ་ཅག་): Tibetan meaning “older sister.” Woeser is originally from Lhasa and speaks both Tibetan and Chinese. However, she writes almost exclusively in Chinese. In this poem, she utilizes many Tibetan words transliterated into Chinese, consciously choosing to not use existing Chinese words. She could have chosen the Chinese word for older sister, but her conscious choice of acha indicates that her relationship with her friends continues to be defined by Tibetan culture. The choice forces her Chinese readers to stumble into the unfamiliar. I have chosen to italicize these Tibetan words as they appear in the translation with footnotes showing the original word in Tibetan and their meaning. The transliterations are roughly based on the Wylie transliteration system, but have been modified to reflect how the words are pronounced in Lhasa, where Woeser is from and where the poem takes place. ↩
[3] Central Beijing Road. Like the name Jiangsu Road discussed in note 1, Beijing has nothing to do with historical Tibet. The original Tibetan name of Beijing Road was Dekyi Namgang (བདེ་སྐྱིད་གནམ་གང་།), which means ‘Happiness Road.’ After the Chinese occupation, the road was expanded, cutting through numerous parks and wild lands to form the continuum of East Beijing Road, Central Beijing Road, and West Beijing Road, one of the main arteries of the city. In her essay “The New Face of Lhasa,” Woeser writes, “Lhasa is submerged in a pile of new names that have nothing to do with its history, tradition, or culture. The outsider “liberators,” came and took over the old city of Tibet that had nothing to do with them, and have constructed a logic for reassigning revolutionary names that is unoriginal and completely domineering.” ↩
[4] Today, Lhasa is covered in security cameras. They surround all of the major monuments and civic buildings. Chinese snipers are positioned on the top of many buildings, keeping watch for any individual or group protest that might break out. Han Chinese are more free to wander the streets of Lhasa than the native Tibetans. ↩
[5] Woeser told me that as she and her friends walked along the streets that day, they tried to imagine they were Han Chinese, but that everything became imbued with irony. “So Happy and Blessed!” is a common phrase used in Chinese propaganda regarding Tibet. Tibetans are presented as an idyllic people, “so happy and blessed,” who were saved by Chinese liberation. In 2012, there was a large sculpture placed in the center of Lhasa that reads “The Happy and Blessed City.” It was meant to look like an abstract Tibetan style cloud, but the Tibetans laughed saying it looked like a giant pile of shit. ↩
[6] Yabzhi Taktser (ཡབ་གཞིས་སྟག་འཚེར་) is the family name of the 14th Dalai Lama. According to tradition this is also the name of this mansion. After the family of the Dalai Lama moved from Amdo to Lhasa, they built this mansion and gave it this name. It is located in the center of Lhasa, close to the Potala Palace. For more detail see her essay “The Ruins of Yabzhi Taktser.” ↩
[7] His Holiness. Tibetans have a multitude of names for the Dalai Lama including Yeshe Norbu, Gongsachog, Chenrezig, Gyalwa Rinpoche, and Kundun. In fact, most Tibetans usually do not refer to him by the name Dalai Lama. The reason is that ‘Dalai Lama,’ meaning ‘Ocean of Wisdom,’ is actually a Mongolian name given to his lineage by the Mongolian King Altan Khan in the 16th century. ‘Dalai’ is a Mongolian word meaning ‘Ocean’ combined with the Tibetan word ‘Lama’ meaning ‘Wisdom.’ In this poem, Woeser refers to him as 尊者, meaning ‘Venerable One,” and which corresponds to the English appellation ‘His Holiness.’ It is interesting to note that the terms ‘His Holiness’ and ‘尊者’ are not translations of a specific Tibetan term, but are rather terms that originated within the Tibetan exile communities post 1959. As a major theme of this poem has to do with names and how they shape our consciousness, it is important to point out how Woeser refers to the most important spiritual leader of the Tibetan tradition. ↩
[8] Phodrang Potala (ཕོ་བྲང་པོ་ཏ་ལ་) is the Tibetan name for the Potala Palace. The Potala Palace is the most famous building in Tibet. It was the residence of the Dalai Lama until 1959 as well as the seat of the Tibetan government. ↩
[9] Tibetan Mastiff, dokyi (འདོགས་ཁྱི). In her essay “The Tibetan Mastiff as a Metaphor,” Woeser describes how in recent years the Tibetan mastiff has become the favorite pet of Chinese tycoons. The thirst for these dogs has lead to these dogs being stolen from Tibetans across the Tibet and sold at incredible prices in China. But then the market for these dogs collapsed and they were no longer cherished and were then sold to be eaten in hotpot restaurants. She see this as a metaphor for the relationship of Han Chinese to Tibetans. The Han Chinese treat Tibetans the same way they treat their pets. ↩
[10] Cham (འཆམ་): A form of Tibetan religious dance performed by monks. ↩
[11] Venerable Youth, a reference to the young Dalai Lama. ↩
[12] This quotation is from In Exile from the Land of Snows: The Definitive Account of the Dalai Lama and Tibet Since the Chinese Conquest by John Avedon (Harper Perennial, 1997).↩
[13] Arkar (ཨར་དཀར་): Tibetan word meaning “white material.” It is used in Tibetan buildings, made from weathered limestone or sandstone pounded into powder. It is generally used for the floors and roofs of buildings. During construction it is mixed with water, applied to the surface, and polished. After construction it is smooth, solid, and impermeable, like cement. There is a folk song: “Arkar is not a stone, Arkar is not the soil, Arkar is the essence of the essence of the lotus land from deep within the mountains.” ↩
[14] Turquoise, gyu (གཡུ་): Among Tibetan people turquoise is also known as a bla stone or ‘soul stone.’ Namkhai Norbu writes: “According to Tibetan tradition, the bla can have a support or be personified by an object, like a precious stone, a mountain, a lake etc.” (pg. 225). Turquoise “is a bla stone to attract the oath-bound deities” (pg. 5). Namkhai Norbu, Drung, Deu and Bon: Narrations, Symbolic Languages and the Bon Tradition on Ancient Tibet, translated from Tibetan into Italian, edited, and annotated by Adriano Clemente; translated from Italian into English by Andrew Lukianowicz (Dharamsala: Library of Tibetan Works and Archives, 1995). See note 14 below. ↩
[15] Dom (སྡོམ): Tibetan, meaning “spider.” Because Chinese is not written with an alphabet, it is very inhospitable to transliterating words from other languages. Foreign words are rendered using a combination of Chinese characters that approximate the sounds, which invariably sound very awkward and a far cry from the original. And while the Chinese characters used are selected for sound, nevertheless, they also have their own Chinese meaning, which sometimes adds a new layer of potential meaning to the transliterated word. As there is no standard stystem for transliterating Tibetan words into Chinese, Woeser often makes them up herself, which means she has the chance of selecting Chinese characters not just for sound but also for meaning. Dom presents a delightful example. She originally chose the characters 董木, (dǒngmù). At one point in our correspondence regarding the translation of this poem, I wrote, “I love that the word dom, as transliterated into English contains the fundamental Sanskrit seed syllable Om—the cosmic, immutable sound, which forms a fundamental part of Buddhist chants such as Oṃ maṇi padme hūṃ. Your entire poem is like a spider web revolving around this single word dom, it is the seed syllable of the poem. If I were to transliterate it into Chinese I would utilize the character 嗡, which means both Om and the buzzing of insects. Both predator and prey, a poem within the poem, like a secret sword.” To my delight Woeser accepted this proposal, and changed the transliteration to 特嗡母 (tèwēngmǔ), meaning ‘mother of the extraordinary Om.’↩
[16] Domthag (སྡོམ་ཐག་): Tibetan, meaning “spider web.” ↩
[17] This phrase is from the Epic of King Gesar in a passage about the extraordinary beauty of Gesar’s stepbrother Gyatsa Shelkar, translated in Namkhai Norbu’s Drung, Deu and Bon, page 5 (see note 10 above). By incorporating this quote, Woeser allies her poem with the Epic of King Gesar and the ancient Tibetan narratives known as drung, which record history, customs, and habits of the Tibetans and are often enriched with allegorical and poetic details. She said she was not forging a direct a direct relationship between Shelkar and the spider, rather she wanted to invoke the beauty of the language in that passage. ↩

(中文版首发唯色RFA博客


2017年8月28日星期一

转微信公众号文章:西藏拉日铁路曝安全隐患遭包庇 ……


这篇爆料西藏拉日铁路(拉萨-日喀则铁路)存在严重质量问题,项目指挥部疑包庇纵容的帖子,原本在“西藏生活圈”公众号看到,但已被删除。现在另一个公众号里找到,为此转载并请关注。有图有真相。

原标题:西藏拉日铁路曝安全隐患遭包庇 懒政在给印度阿三帮忙 |今日话题

http://mp.weixin.qq.com/s/5q4GLMMdbm4YyrvT0z3XYg


 2017-08-20 齐凛然 凛然资讯

今日话题
八根桩基,居然有五根短了2米多。对!这就是拉萨至日喀则铁路迟雄普曲特大桥的实际情况。
图:桩基短了2米多的迟雄普曲特大桥
如此严重质量问题经媒体多次曝光后,却不见任何部门对此进行调查和处理,更没有任何整改意见,项目建设指挥部、青藏铁路公司、兰州铁路监督管理局大有包庇纵容之嫌。网友调侃称,中印战争在即,相关部门的这种懒政,是间接在给印度阿三帮忙!
关于拉日铁路TJ6标段存在的问题,媒体以《西藏拉日铁路曝严重质量问题 被举报两年未整改》、《副指挥长出卖举报人》、《工程回扣高达15%》、《青藏铁路两任老总曾被处分》、《西藏拉日铁路偷工减料惊人 设计10cm厚的水泥只喷2cm》、《4公里隧道钢筋被偷300吨》、《西藏拉日铁路曝严重质量问题 项目指挥部疑包庇纵容》等为题,连续八次予以曝光。
但遗憾的是,不管是业主单位中国铁路总公司、青藏铁路公司、拉日铁路建设总指挥部(现全体人员转移到拉林铁路建设总指挥部),还是铁路质量的监督单位兰州铁路管理局,均对被曝光的问题假装视而不见。
举报人林谋枝称,在业主及监督单位均不作为的情况下,挂靠中国葛洲坝集团股份有限公司中标的四川商人赵旭强、杨平两人,更是高枕无忧。
观察者网曾报道,由拉萨作战略支点的日喀则—拉萨—林芝铁路皆为客货两用、军民共用。
以地缘政治和地缘军事视野观察思考,拉日铁路的军事战略价值令人惊叹!以拉萨作轴心,以日喀则为西翼,林芝为东翼,由此形成的一张东西跨度长达近700公里的圆弧型扇面,是确保西藏边境安定的主要防卫方向。
西藏旅游主管部门说,拉日铁路的最大功效是释放西藏旅游经济之巨大潜能。西藏经济主管部门说,拉日铁路(年货运能力800万吨)是撬动西藏经济发展和资源开发的一根“黄金撬杠”。
但遗憾的是,这条军事、民用要道,却被施工方埋下安全隐患,业主方、监督方包庇纵容。
一点资讯的网友“Mostino”称:中印战争在即,他们如此偷工检减料,将会给国家和人民造成多大损失啊,应该枪毙!
“爵爷先森”回复:说的好听是为国家搞建设,背地里偷偷发国家财!
“东里健”回复:等到用铁路运输军用物资时,铁路出问题,才有人来管。鲁迅说:“四周都是黑洞洞的,像(向)哪里去曝光,也不怕被曝光”。

微信网友“果豆”留言:发现安全隐患不整改不排除,难道非要出现灾难死了人有关部门才督查吗?
“正兴建材”称:又是官商勾结的典型案例,望有关部门彻查!
新浪微博网友称:西藏铁路除民用外,更重要的是军用;如果铁路质量没有保证,将关乎国家战略大事。发现质量问题而不整改,这算间接帮印度阿三的忙么?
“HETAIZHOU”称:现在报道铁路问题,阿三更不想走了。
“绿色的高达”:国内的工程都是这样,反正不塌不垮就行了。出了问题再说,自然有人出来担责任。
“冥冥之中自有神通”问:其中5根短了,桥面不是造成波浪形?
“fengxinzi765”回复:哈哈,桩顶标高总是控制的,短2米说明没有打到持力层,这5根会缓慢下沉,有隐患。
群众的眼睛是雪亮的,明摆着的质量问题不调查不整改,确实难以让人信服。百年大计质量为本,难道相关部门宁愿选择麻木不仁,也不愿意拿出实际行动进行整改?这种严重不作为的懒政态度,与《人民的名义》当中的孙连城又何异?
针对上述问题,举报人林谋枝再次向中华人民共和国交通部、国家铁路局进行举报反映,希望承载国家战略任务的拉日铁路所存在的安全隐患问题,能得到相关部门的重视,给国家和人民一个安全环境。
同时,也希望相关部门能依法依纪追究拉日(林)铁路建设指挥部、兰州铁路监督管理局、中国葛洲坝集团涉嫌包庇纵容、渎职等法律纪律责任,以及追究挂靠人赵旭强、杨平涉嫌串通投标、侵吞国有资产、偷税漏税、伪造印章、危害公共安全等法律责任,还法治一片清朗天空。
关于拉日铁路的整改、以及相关部门对事件的处理情况,我们将进一步关注。
回顾拉日铁路被曝光的六大问题】
问题一:桥梁桩基短了两米多、钢筋减少20%
在拉日铁路TJ6标段的质量问题上,以迟雄普曲特大桥为例:迟雄普曲特大桥17-1#、18-23、18-5#三根桩的钢筋笼型号与设计图纸不符,图纸为D型桩(主筋为20根),施工员张嵘给劳务施工队的交底为B型桩(主筋为16根),导致以上三根桩基钢筋笼钢筋数量比设计减少了4根,既偷工减料达20%;由于交底的钢筋笼吊筋长度不足,导致18-1#(短桩2.03米)、18-2#(短桩2.06米)、18-4#(短桩2.21米)、18-5#(短桩2.06米)、18-8#(短桩2.03米)五根短桩;一座大桥的八根桩基中,有五根短了2米多,由此埋下了极其危险的安全隐患。
2016年2月19日,兰州铁路监督管理局对上述严重质量问题进了认定;而早在被确认存在质量问题之前的2014年8月16日,拉日铁路就已正式通车运营。关于这些问题,业主方青藏铁路公司在组织质量监督检验站等部门,对拉日铁路进行竣工验收的过程中,究竟有没有发现?
如果没有,那青藏铁路公司就存在严重的渎职问题;否则,就是青藏铁路公司故意对质量问题进行隐瞒和包庇纵容。如果是后者,青藏铁路公司在承担渎职责任的同时,还应当与被挂靠的中国葛洲坝集团、以及挂靠中标人赵旭强、杨平承担连带责任。
问题二:国家重点项目被私人挂靠中标
为什么那么早就知道出现严重质量问题而不整改呢?原来,该项目是由四川商人赵旭强、杨平通过关系,借用中国葛洲坝集团股份有限公司的资质中标,中标后该标段所辖的隧道、桥梁、路基等全部工程由赵、杨二人负责分配,葛洲坝集团只是负责监管施工过程和收取2%的挂靠管理费,一切事务均由赵、杨二人说了算,就连葛洲坝集团的项目指挥部几乎成了摆设。
那么赵旭强和杨平又是什么人呢?
公开资料表明,赵旭强为四川成都人,为西藏双龙建设工程有限公司(注册号:5400002000964)的法人代表。在拉日铁路施工过程中,葛洲坝集团基础工程公司第六工程处驻拉萨财务处就设在双龙公司内。
该财务处的负责人是赵旭强的同学杨志杰,因此该财务处实际上是由赵旭强控制。
而赵旭强的合作伙伴杨平,是四川眉山人,为眉山岷江水电开发有限公司(注册号:511402000013144)、和四川圣蓝投资有限公司(注册号:511400000017155)的法定代表人。这两个公司在拉日铁路的施工过程中,对“走黑账”发挥了巨大作用。
在整个建设过程中,负责采购的是杨平的弟弟杨刚。杨刚的公开身份为拉日铁路TJ6标段项目物资部副部长,所有材料的确定、单价均由其说了算;葛洲坝公司派驻的物资部部长是虚职,什么事都管不了。
杨平的另一得力干将,是其妹夫王仕良,负责项目所有的征地拆迁补偿。因此,赵、杨二人才是这个造价达18.6亿的TJ6标段的真正老板。
为了证实赵、杨二人挂靠葛洲坝集团投标并中标,林谋技还说,早在TJ6标段开标的三个月前,杨平就很肯定地告诉他,这个标非赵、杨二人莫属;当时,杨平还让林谋枝作好准备,他准备将隧道工程转包给林谋枝承包施工。
图:赵旭强生活照
问题三:工程回扣15%、工程款落入个人腰包
一份以杨平为甲方、王良武为乙方的《隧道补充合同》表明,甲方杨平将拉日铁路TJ6标段圣殿山隧道转包给乙方王良武施工,而甲方提走工程总造价的15%作为“管理费”;如造成乙方亏损,甲方不承担责任。
也就是说,这15%的回扣甲方是一定要拿走的,但作为实际施工队的乙方,是否存在亏损则与甲方无关。为此,如果乙方要保证自己不亏损,就不得不采取偷工减料的手段来弥补这15%的回扣损失,这样的结果可想而知。
总造价为18.6亿元的拉日铁路TJ6标段,回扣被拿走了15%,仅用85%的中标款来施工100%的工程量,以致出现现在的严重工程质量问题也不足为奇了!
另外,该项目的大量工程款落入个人腰包。拉日铁路业主青藏铁路公司,将工程款支付给中国葛洲坝集团股份有限公司拉日铁路指挥部后,挂靠中标人杨平、赵旭强以工程机械租赁为名义,每月从指挥部将数百万工程款转到江西永新县融胜机械租赁有限公司、永胜机械设备租赁有限公司、吉水县建筑总公司、余干县鸿运工程机械有限公司,以及四川天工建设工程有限公司,然后又从上述五家公司将工程款转入杨平的个人银行户头(农行眉山分行三苏路分理处,账号:6228494090009237012)。林谋枝亲眼所见,转入杨平个人银行账户的工程款就达1.6个亿。

问题四:设计为10cm厚的水泥只做2cm
据了解,拉日铁路TJ6标段纳钟山3#隧道进口处,在塌方处理后的边坡喷射混凝土厚度仍然是2~3厘米,与设计的10cm相差甚远,且每个洞口边坡都这样施工。
隧道洞口设计30米超前大管棚,但实际施工中大管棚的长度只有几米,且大管棚的数量远远少于设计量(每个洞口边坡都这样施工),由此造成纳钟山3#隧道进口在施工中洞口严重塌方。
按规定,设计钢筋的间距应当在15—20厘米;但实际施工中却被偷工减料至30多厘米;隧道内施工用的中空锚杆设计长度应为3米,而实际施工时却被缩减为50厘米。
图:葛洲坝集团负责人聂凯
问题五:4公里隧道钢筋被偷300
据中国葛洲坝集团拉日铁路TJ6标项目部所管辖的隧道劳务施工队施工人员举报称,他们自2010年12月份进场施工,亲眼目睹了葛洲坝拉日铁路TJ6标指挥部勾结监理、指使劳务施工队偷工减料的整个过程,具体被举报的其中一部分为萝桑村隧道(DK208+869~DK210+740)、纳钟山1#隧道(DK211+168~DK211+833)、纳钟山2#隧道(DK212+360~DK212+818)、纳钟山3#隧道(DK213+461~DK213+689)、圣殿山隧道(DK184+270~DK185+391)工程均存在严重的质量问题。
据隧道工程施工队王龙华副队长介绍,隧道洞口往里100米后偷工减料严重,二衬钢筋60%为非标,按设计要用九泉钢铁厂生产的高标准钢材,结果却被换成宁夏小型钢铁厂的产品。
另外,隧道的小导管偷工减料严重,有些直接就被省掉了,锚杆的用量也只有30%左右。
这些因偷工减料被“省”下来的钢材,都被承包者给卖掉了。据称,隧道施工承包人王良武的兄长王良文卖得最多,其中一次就因卖钢筋得了400多万元。
王良武施工的萝桑村、圣殿山、纳钟山(1、2、3号)五条总长度为4公里多的隧道,每公里被偷卖钢筋100吨左右,被卖钢筋的总量至少在300吨以上。
问题六:伪造公司印章骗取工程款
据知情人林谋枝称,由于造价达18.6亿元的拉日铁路TJ6标段,是由赵旭强、杨平挂靠央企中国葛洲坝集团公司中标,赵、杨二人要把葛洲坝驻拉日铁路工程项目指挥部的资金套出来,就必须以其他公司的名义走账。因此,他们走账选择了江西吉水县建筑总公司等企业。
但在现实中又遇到了难题,每次走账,项目指挥部都必须要吉水县建筑总公司盖章确认,而远在几千公里之外的江西吉水县建筑总公司,又不可能揣着一枚公章三天两头往西藏跑。于是,赵、杨二人想出了一个办法——他们伪造了 “吉水县建筑总公司”的公司印章;在每次需要盖章时,他们便指使经办人杨家健带上伪造的印章到指挥部进行签字确认。
他们除了伪造吉水县建筑总公司的公司印章外,还伪造了江西余干县鸿运工程机械有限公司的印章。平时,这些印章放在由赵、杨二人控制的“私人财务部”保管,要用的时候才拿出来。关于用这些假印章所签署过的文件,在业主方的拉日铁路建设工程指挥部的档案里都能查到。(作者:齐凛然)