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◎ 露易丝•格丽克诗集03《降落的形象》选译 (阅读2619次)



以下选自诗集《降落的形象》
Descending Figure ( The Ecco Press, 1980 )


溺死的孩子

你看,他们没有判断力。
所以他们不幸溺水,是自然而然,
先是冰吞下他们
接着,是整个冬天,他们的羊毛围巾
在他们后面漂浮,当他们往下沉
直到他们终于安静下来。
池塘托起他们,在它繁多的黑暗臂膀里。

但死亡必须分头来拜访他们,
如此接近开始。
仿佛他们一直是
失明而且无重。因此
这些都是被梦见的:那盏灯,
那块盖桌子的漂亮的白布,
他们的身体。

但他们仍然听见他们用过的名字
像诱惑一般在池塘上滑过:
你们在等待什么啊
回家吧,回家吧,迷失
在水中,蓝色而长久。

The Drowned Children

You see, they have no judgment.
So it is natural that they should drown,
first the ice taking them in
and then, all winter, their wool scarves
floating behind them as they sink
until at last they are quiet.
And the pond lifts them in its manifold dark arms.

But death must come to them differently,
so close to the beginning.
As though they had always been
blind and weightless. Therefore
the rest is dreamed, the lamp,
the good white cloth that covered the table,
their bodies.

And yet they hear the names they used
like lures slipping over the pond:
What are you waiting for
come home, come home, lost
in the waters, blue and permanent.


花园(选二)

3  对爱的恐惧

那身体躺在我旁边,像顺从的石头——
一旦它的双眼似乎就要睁开,
我们可能已经说出。

那时已是冬天。
白天,太阳升起,戴着火焰的头盔
而夜晚也一样,反射在月光里。

它的光自由地在我们身上经过,
似乎我们躺着
就是为了不留下影子,
只有两片浅滩凹陷在雪地里。
而过去,一如既往,在我们面前伸展,
平静,复杂,无法穿透。

我们在那儿躺了多久?
当众神手挽手,戴着羽毛的斗蓬,
漫步走下
我们为他们建造的山脉。

5  对埋葬的恐惧

在空荡荡的旷野,早晨,
身体等待着被认领。
灵魂坐在一旁,一块小石头上——
再没有什么来赋予它形体。

想想身体的孤独吧。
当夜晚,在收割一空的田野里踱步,
只有它的影子四下里紧紧追随。
多么漫长的旅程。

而那遥远的,摇曳的乡村灯光,已经不再
为他们稍作等待,当他们审视着田垄。
看起来多么遥远,
那木门,那面包和牛奶,
就像重物放在桌子上。

The Garden (3, 5)

3  THE FEAR OF LOVE

The body lying beside me like obedient stone—
once its eyes seemed to be opening,
we could have spoken.

At that time it was winter already.
By day the sun rose in its helmet of fire
and at night also, mirrored in the moon.

Its light passed over us freely,
as though we had lain down
in order to leave no shadows,
only these two shallow dents in the snow.
And the past, as always, stretched before us,
still, complex, impenetrable.

How long did we lie there
as, arm in arm in their cloaks of feathers,
the gods walked down
from the mountain we built for them?

5  THE FEAR OF BURIAL

In the empty field, in the morning,
the body waits to be claimed.
The spirit sits beside it, on a small rock--
nothing comes to give it form again.

Think of the body's loneliness.
At night pacing the sheared field,
its shadow buckled tightly around.
Such a long journey.

And already the remote, trembling lights of the village
not pausing for it as they scan the rows.
How far away they seem,
the wooden doors, the bread and milk
laid like weights on the table.


美术馆

长久以来冬眠的爱,正在显现自身:
那巨大的、被期待的众神
真地被囚禁了,那些圆柱
端坐在草坪上,似乎完美
不是永恒而是静止不动——这
是喜剧,她想,
他们已经瘫痪。或者,像那些般配的天鹅,
超然,环绕着池塘:如此激情地抑制
意味着占有。他们几乎没有说话。
另一岸边,一个小男孩正把面包屑
扔到水里去。倒映的纪念碑
晃动,迅速地,被光线击中——
她再不能纯洁地触摸他的胳膊。
他们必须放弃这些,开始
作为男性女性,插入,疼痛。[1]

[评论选译]这两位由朋友变成的恋人,他们看起来“已经瘫痪”,不能说话,因为每个动作都具有了新的份量。意识到生活是更加有条有理的,甚至在激情的时刻,从美学角度看,就成了一个几乎是讽刺的主题,正如这首诗又使用了《对爱的恐惧》中的核心修辞:“众神”,如今是美术馆的女像柱,“巨大”且“被期待”,他们在圆柱后面——这样的位置允许说话人说它们是“真地被囚禁了”。美术馆的这种伪古典装饰变成了抗议僵化的一个途径……这首诗倾向于友谊而非爱情,正如《对爱的恐惧》倾向于“说出”而非无言。虽然是讽刺性的描写,但不可躲避的是,激情不仅与美学方面相联系,而且与格丽克的严肃理想相联系——“如此激情地抑制 / 意味着占有。”(On Louise Gluck: change what you see)

Palais des Arts

Love long dormant showing itself:
the large expected gods
caged really, the columns
sitting on the lawn, as though perfection
were not timeless but stationary—that
is the comedy, she thinks,
that they are paralyzed. Or like the matching swans,
insular, circling the pond: restraint so passionate
implies possession. They hardly speak.
On the other bank, a small boy throws bits of bread
into the water. The reflected monument
is stirred, briefly, stricken with light—
She can’t touch his arm in innocence again.
They have to give that up and begin
as male and female, thrust and ache.


画像

一个孩子在画身体的轮廓。
她画她会画的一切,但通体都是白的。
她知道那儿是什么,却没法填充起来。
在没有支撑的线条里面,她知道
缺少了生命;她漏掉了
一个又一个背景。像一个孩子,
她向妈妈求助。

而你画了那颗心
抵抗她刚刚创造的空虚。

Portrait

A child draws the outline of a body.
She draws what she can, but it is white all through,
she cannot fill in what she knows is there.
Within the unsupported line, she knows
that life is missing; she has cut
one background from another. Like a child,
she turns to her mother.

And you draw the heart
against the emptiness she has created.


幸福

他和她躺在一张白色的床上。
这是早晨。我猜测
“很快他们就会醒来。”
床头柜上是一只花瓶
插着百合花;阳光
积聚在他们的颈部。
我看到他向她转过来
似乎在念她的名字
但静静地,深藏在她的口中——
在窗棂边,
一声,两声,
一只鸟在鸣叫。
那时她翻个身;她的身体
充满了他的气息。

我睁开眼睛;你正注视着我。
几乎就在房屋上空
太阳正在滑行。
看着你的脸,你一边说,
一边让自己离我更近一些
来做一面镜子。
而你是那么平静。燃烧的车轮
在我们头上轻轻驶过。

Happiness

A man and a woman lie on a white bed.
It is morning. I think
Soon they will waken.
On the bedside table is a vase
of lilies; sunlight
pools in their throats.
I watch him turn to her
as though to speak her name
but silently, deep in her mouth--
At the window ledge,
once, twice,
a bird calls.
And then she stirs; her body
fills with his breath.

I open my eyes; you are watching me.
Almost over this room
the sun is gliding.
Look at your face, you say,
holding your own close to me
to make a mirror.
How calm you are. And the burning wheel
passes gently over us.


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