北京时间2012年12月8日凌晨，2012年诺贝尔文学奖颁奖辞全文如下：
尊敬的国王和皇后陛下，尊敬的诺贝尔奖得主们，女士们先生们，
莫言是个诗人，他扯下程式化的宣传画，使个人从茫茫无名大众中突出出来。 他用嘲笑和讽刺的笔触，攻击历史和谬误以及贫乏和政治虚伪。他有技巧的揭露了人类最阴暗的一面，在不经意间给象征赋予了形象。
高密东北乡体现了中国的民间故事和历史。在这些民间故事中，驴与猪的吵闹淹没了人的声音，爱与邪恶被赋予了超自然的能量。
莫言有着无与伦比的想象力。他很好的描绘了自然；他基本知晓所有与饥饿相关的事情；中国20世纪的疾苦从来都没有被如此直白的描写：英雄、情侣、虐待者、匪徒--特别是坚强的 、不屈不挠的母亲们 。他向我们展示了一个没有真理、常识或者同情的世界，这个世界中的人鲁莽、无助且可笑。
中国历史上重复出现的同类相残的行为证明了这些苦难。对莫言来说，这代表着消费、无节制、废物、肉体上的享受以及无法描述的欲望，只有他才能超越禁忌试图描述。
莫言的故事有着神秘和寓意，让所有的价值观得到体现。莫言的人物充满活力，他们甚至用不道德的办法和手段实现他们生活目标，打破命运和政治的牢笼。
《丰乳肥臀》是莫言最著名的小说，以女性视角描述了1960年的大跃进和大饥荒。他讥讽了革命伪科学，就是用兔子给羊受精，同时不理睬所有的怀疑者，将他们当成右翼。小说的结尾描述了九十年代的新资本主义，会忽悠的人靠卖化妆品富了起来，并想通过混种受精培育凤凰。
莫言生动的向我们展示了一个被人遗忘的农民世界，虽然无情但又充满了愉悦的无私。每一个瞬间都那么精彩。作者知晓手工艺、冶炼技术、建筑、挖沟开渠、放牧和游击队的技巧并且知道如何描述。他似乎用笔尖描述了整个人生。
他比拉伯雷、斯威夫特和马尔克斯之后的多数作家都要滑稽和犀利。他的语言辛辣。他对于中国过去一百年的描述中，没有跳舞的独角兽和少女。但是他描述的猪圈生活让我们觉得非常熟悉。意识形态和改革有来有去，但是人类的自我和贪婪却一直存在。所以莫言为所有的小人物打抱不平-从日本占领到毛泽东的错误到今天的疯狂生产。
在莫言的小说世界里，品德和残酷交战，对阅读者来说这是一种文学探险。曾有如此的文学浪潮席卷了中国和世界么？莫言作品中的文学力度压过大多数当代作品。
瑞典文学院祝贺你。请你从国王手中接过2012年诺贝尔文学奖。
附：莫言获奖致辞
尊敬的国王、王后、各位王室成员，女士们先生们：
我的讲稿忘在旅馆了，但我记在脑子里了。
我获奖以来发生了很多有趣的事情，由此也可以见证到，诺贝尔奖确实是一个影响巨大的奖项，它在全世界的地位无法动摇。我是一个来自中国山东高密的农民的儿子，能在这样一个殿堂中领取这样一个巨大的奖项，很像一个童话，但它毫无疑问是一个事实。
我想借这个机会，向诺贝尔奖基金会，向支持了诺贝尔奖的瑞典人民，表示崇高的敬意。要向瑞典皇家学院那些坚守自己信念的院士表示崇高的敬意和真挚的感谢。
我还要感谢那些把我的作品翻译成了世界很多语言的翻译家们。没有他们的创造性的劳动，文学只是各种语言的文学。正是因为有了他们的劳动，文学才可以变为世界的文学。
当然我还要感谢我的亲人、我的朋友们。他们的友谊、他们的智慧，都在我的作品里闪耀光芒。
文学和科学相比较确实没有什么用处。但是文学的最大的用处，也许就是它没有什么用处。
谢谢大家！
英文全文：
Your Majesties, Your Royal Highnesses, Esteemed Nobel Laureates, Ladies and Gentlemen,
Mo Yan is a poet who tears down stereotypical propaganda posters, elevating the individual from an anonymous human mass. Using ridicule and sarcasm Mo Yan attacks history and its falsifications as well as deprivation and political hypocrisy. Playfully and with ill-disguised delight, he reveals the murkiest aspects of human existence, almost inadvertently finding images of strong symbolic weight.
North-eastern Gaomi county embodies China’s folk tales and history. Few real journeys can surpass these to a realm where the clamour of donkeys and pigs drowns out the voices of the people’s commissars and where both love and evil assume supernatural proportions.
Mo Yan’s imagination soars across the entire human existence. He is a wonderful portrayer of nature; he knows virtually all there is to know about hunger, and the brutality of China’s 20th century has probably never been described so nakedly, with heroes, lovers, torturers, bandits – and especially, strong, indomitable mothers. He shows us a world without truth, common sense or compassion, a world where people are reckless, helpless and absurd.
Proof of this misery is the cannibalism that recurs in China’s history. In Mo Yan, it stands for unrestrained consumption, excess, rubbish, carnal pleasures and the indescribable desires that only he can attempt to elucidate beyond all tabooed limitations.
In his novel Republic of Wine, the most exquisite of delicacies is a roasted three-year-old. Boys have become exclusive foodstuff. The girls, neglected, survive. The irony is directed at China’s family policy, because of which female foetuses are aborted on an astronomic scale: girls aren’t even good enough to eat. Mo Yan has written an entire novel, Frog, about this.
Mo Yan’s stories have mythical and allegorical pretensions and turn all values on their heads. We never meet that ideal citizen who was a standard feature in Mao’s China. Mo Yan’s characters bubble with vitality and take even the most amoral steps and measures to fulfil their lives and burst the cages they have been confined in by fate and politics.
In his most remarkable novel, Big Breasts and Wide Hips, where a female perspective dominates, Mo Yan describes the Great Leap Forward and the Great Famine of 1960 in stinging detail. He mocks the revolutionary pseudo-science that tried to inseminate sheep with rabbit sperm, all the while dismissing doubters as right-wing elements. The novel ends with the new capitalism of the ‘90s with fraudsters becoming rich on beauty products and trying to produce a Phoenix through cross-fertilisation.
In Mo Yan, a forgotten peasant world arises, alive and well, before our eyes, sensually scented even in its most pungent vapours, startlingly merciless but tinged by joyful selflessness. Never a dull moment. The author knows everything and can describe everything – all kinds of handicraft, smithery, construction, ditch-digging, animal husbandry, the tricks of guerrilla bands. He seems to carry all human life on the tip of his pen.
He is more hilarious and more appalling than most in the wake of Rabelais and Swift — in our time, in the wake of García Marquez. His spice blend is a peppery one. On his broad tapestry of China’s last hundred years, there are neither dancing unicorns nor skipping maidens. But he paints life in a pigsty in such a way that we feel we have been there far too long. Ideologies and reform movements may come and go but human egoism and greed remain. So Mo Yan defends small individuals against all injustices – from Japanese occupation to Maoist terror and today’s production frenzy.
For those who venture to Mo Yan’s home district, where bountiful virtue battles the vilest cruelty, a staggering literary adventure awaits. Has ever such an epic spring flood engulfed China and the rest of the world? In Mo Yan’s work, world literature speaks with a voice that drowns out most contemporaries.
The Swedish Academy congratulates you. I call on you to accept the 2012 Nobel Prize for Literature from the hand of His Majesty the King.
