7月6日至8月6日，我院外国语系主任潘红教授与副主任苏翊翔副教授带领我院11位英语老师到美国南阿拉巴马大学进行为期一个月的学术交流，受到了南大英语系的热情接待。2014年7月26日，南大英语系在克里斯汀·诺丽斯教授家中为我院访学团举办了烧烤晚会，南大英语系主任Steven Trout教授主持晚会，并代表英语系向至诚访学团赠送了南大英语系教师们近年出版的专著。该系文学教授Sue Walker特意为11人访学团作诗一首，深深情谊溢于言表，橡树下夕阳中，伴随着烧烤的香味，Sue Walker教授为大家朗诵了她的这首诗作。我院教师深受感动，为此，外国语系主任潘红教授特将诗歌译出，与大家分享。
莫比尔夏日之声
（苏·沃克著，潘红译）
今晚，夏风轻吟浅唱，
夕阳恋恋难舍长日。
玉兰馨香和烧烤之香升起，
克里斯汀·诺丽斯的烧烤晚会
风雨无阻进行。
带着昨日和明天的美好记忆
来客们分享过去、分享未来。
长夜将至，繁星邀我们取一息星光，
去点亮光明。
呢喃的夏风发出响亮的音节——
“莫比尔”。
有人热切询问“客自何处来”？
来自“莫比尔”——不是同名石油公司
不是驶向新奥尔良前汽车的加油站。
我们发出“莫比尔”的名字——
诉说我们的存在和身份。
莫比尔，这个飘扬过五面旗帜的城市：
法国、西班牙、英国、美利坚联盟国和美利坚合众国。
时光如莫比尔中心广场啄食花生的鸽子，
闲庭信步、意得志满，
从容的步态
印证了命运的福祉。
早期开拓者法国兄弟选定了
莫比尔湾二十七里荒原，
1702年建立路易斯要塞，
创建了我们的家园。
在明媚的晨光里倾听，
在灿烂的晚霞中倾听，
在宁静的夕阳中倾听，
在夏日徐徐暗淡的弯月中倾听——
也许你听到了莫比尔的神灵之声
在微风中私语，
听到了曾在莫比尔栖居的
南方女作家奥科特维雅的心声，
倾听她朗读
爱伦坡献给她的诗歌
音色丰满、淳美
时光永恒不朽：
“智慧和美酒相遇，
友人相聚，
笑声征服了时光的平庸，
此刻我难以忘怀。
我的心默默聆听你的力量，
深情地向往。”
我们难以忘怀——
远道而来的中国客人，
来自福州至诚的客人，
我们难以忘怀穿行在橡树和火炬松间隙的月光。
我们难以忘怀此时此刻，
难以忘怀莫比尔
难以忘怀莫比尔大学。
愿远方的客人再次到来，
加入莫比尔狂欢节的盛会，
在狂欢的游行队伍中，
和我们一起欢呼：
“请把祝福给我！”
你们的双手将盛满松饼，
享受莫比尔传统的祝福！
今晚，夏风轻吟浅唱，
我们祝愿
莫比尔湾的这座城市
也将是你们
——心所依恋的家园。
附：Sue Walker教授为我院教师访学团创作的诗歌原著
SOUNDING MOBILE SUMMER
By Sue Walker (English Department, University of South Alabama)
The soft susurrus sound of summer
is in the breeze tonight, is in the air
as the sun lingers long of an evening
and seems reluctant to leave the day behind
as the scent of magnolias
mingles with the aroma of BBQ
and Christine Norris says the pig roast
is on rain or shine, and guests
fuse memories of yesterday and tomorrow
and share all that has been and yet might be
before night falls and the stars
ask only that everyone take in their light
and radiate the brightness.
The suserainty of summer
speaks in sylvan syllabications
of Mobile as someone solicitously says.
"Where are you from’ - and the answer
is not “mobile" as in oil, as in getting a car
serviced before leaving for New Orleans -
and what we say and how we say it
becomes where we are and who
in this city where five flags have flown—
French, Spanish, English, Confederate,
the stars and stripes of the
Time is pigeons pecking peanuts
downtown in Bienville Square as they waddle
slow and satisfied and certain
that their sauntering defines
what they were born to do
since the LeMoyne brothers,
Jean-Baptiste and Sieur de Bienville
picked Twenty-Seven-Mile Bluff
near Mobile Bay as the place
to call home and erected
Fort Louis in 1702.
In the fullness of morning,
in the heart of late afternoon,
in the thrust of evening
in the waning of July’s crescent moon,
listen. You have heard, perhaps, there are ghosts
in Mobile - and you may hear them as the wind
whispers, hear Madam, Octavia Le Vert,
a woman Washington Irving claimed
came along once in the course of an empire.
Listen, you may hear her read a poem
given to her by Edgar Allan Poe,
her voice rich and mellow,
more lasting than bone.
When wit and wine, and friends have met
And laughter crowns the restive hour,
In vain I struggle to forget.
Still does my heart confess thy power
And fondly turn to thee.
There is no forgetting our FUZC visitors,
our friends from
the way the moon peeps through live oaks
and loblolly pines. There is no forgetting
this week and last, and Mobile and
and may you return again - maybe for Mardi Gras,
and you can say as we do when parades pass by:
Throw me something, mister,
and you will find a Moon Pie falling
into your reaching hands.
The soft susurration of summer
is sweet in the air tonight
and we hope you feel this city
on Mobile Bay is a place, you, too,
may always feel at home.