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◎ 露易丝•格丽克诗集05《阿勒山》选译 (阅读3558次)



以下选自诗集《阿勒山》
Ararat (The Ecco Press, 1990)

[题记]
“……我们本来是完整的,对于那种完整的希冀和追求就是所谓爱情。”
——柏拉图(朱光潜译)

“…human nature was originally one and we were a whole,
and the desire and pursuit of the whole is called love.”  
-- Plato


登场歌[1]

从前,我受到伤害。
我学会了
生存,作为反应,
不接触
这个世界:我要告诉你
我想成为——
一个倾听的装置。
永不迟钝:安静。
一块木头。一块石头。

我为什么要分辩,论证,让自己疲惫?
那些人正在其他床上呼吸,
几乎无法明白,因为
像一个梦
无法控制——
透过百叶窗,我观察
夜空里的月亮,阴晴圆缺——

我为一种使命而生:
去见证
那些伟大的秘密。
如今我已经看到
出生和死亡,我知道
对于黑暗的自然界而言
这些是证据,
不是秘密——

[译注]登场歌(parodos):古希腊悲剧中歌队入场时唱的段子,包括某些“行进格律”。与此对应的是歌队离开时唱的段子,即退场歌(exodos)。

PARODOS

Long ago, I was wounded.
I learned
to exist, in reaction,
out of touch
with the world: I''ll tell you
what I meant to be -
a device that listened.
Not inert: still.
A piece of wood. A stone.

Why should I tire myself, debating, arguing?
Those people breathing in the other beds
could hardly follow, being
uncontrollable
like any dream--
Through the blinds, I watched
the moon in the night sky, shrinking and swelling--

I was born to a vocation:
to bear witness
to the great mysteries.
Now that I''ve seen both
birth and death, I know
to the dark nature these
are proofs, not
mysteries—


幻想

我要告诉你些事情:每天
人都在死亡。而这只是个开头。
每天,在殡仪馆,都产生新的寡妇,
新的孤儿。他们坐着,双手交迭,
试图对新的生活拿定主意。

随后他们置身墓地,他们中某些人
还是第一次。他们因哭声而感到心悸,
有时因没有哭声而心悸。有人探过身来,
告诉他们下一步要做什么,这可能意味着
说上一言半语,有时
是往敞口的墓穴里抛些泥土。

结束以后,大家都回到那座房屋房子,
突然之间那儿挤满了客人。
寡妇坐在长沙发上,非常肃穆,
于是人们排着队走到她身边,
有时握她的手,有时拥抱她一下。
她也找到点话说给每个人,
谢谢他们,谢谢他们来。

在她心里头,她想要他们离开。
她想回到还在墓地的时候,
回到在病房,在医院的时候。她知道
这不可能。但这是她唯一的期盼:
祈愿时间倒流。哪怕只是一点点儿,
并不要远到刚刚结婚,第一次接吻。

A Fantasy

I''ll tell you something: every day
people are dying. And that''s just the beginning.
Every day, in funeral homes, new widows are born,
new orphans. They sit with their hands folded,
trying to decide about this new life.

Then they''re in the cemetery, some of them
for the first time. They''re frightened of crying,
sometimes of not crying. Someone leans over,
tells them what to do next, which might mean
saying a few words, sometimes
throwing dirt in the open grave.

And after that, everyone goes back to the house,
which is suddenly full of visitors.
The widow sits on the couch, very stately,
so people line up to approach her,
sometimes take her hand, sometimes embrace her.
She finds something to say to everybody,
thanks them, thanks them for coming.

In her heart, she wants them to go away.
She wants to be back in the cemetery,
back in the sickroom, the hospital. She knows
it isn''t possible. But it''s her only hope,
the wish to move backward. And just a little,
not so far as the marriage, the first kiss.


寡妇

我妈在和姨妈打牌,“猫和老鼠”[1],一家人的娱乐,这种游戏
外婆教会了她的每个女儿。

仲夏:出门太热。
今天,姨妈领先;她抓到了好牌。
我妈落后,她的精力一直无法集中。
这个夏天,她还不习惯睡她自己的床。
她去年夏天习惯了睡地板,
没这个麻烦。那时她刚学会睡在那儿
挨着我爸爸:
他奄奄一息;专门一张床。

姨妈寸步不让,并不顾及
我妈的烦心事。
她们就是这么养大的:你靠战斗来表示尊敬。
宽容就是羞辱对手。

每个玩家都是靠左手有一堆牌,手上五张牌。
这种天气还是呆在家里好些,
呆在凉快的地方。
这比其他游戏都好,也比单人游戏好。

外婆早有考虑;早已替女儿们做好准备。
她们手上有牌;她们相互拥有。
她们就不需要更多的友谊。

整个下午,游戏继续但太阳不动。
它只是一直火辣辣地直射,把青草变黄。
一定是这样,对我妈来说。
然后,突然地,有些事情结束了。

姨妈处之已久;也许这就是为什么她打得好一些。
她的牌突然就出完了:这也是你想要的,这是目标:最终,
一无所有的那个人获得胜利。

[译注]原文为“刁难和怨恨”(Spite and Malice),是一种双人玩的扑克游戏,又名“猫和老鼠”(Cat and Mouse)。

Widows

My mother''s playing cards with my aunt,
Spite and Malice, the family pastime, the game
my grandmother taught all her daughters.

Midsummer: too hot to go out.
Today, my aunt''s ahead; she''s getting the good cards.
My mother''s dragging, having trouble with her concentration.
She can''t get used to her own bed this summer.
She had no trouble last summer,
getting used to the floor. She learned to sleep there
to be near my father.
He was dying; he got a special bed.

My aunt doesn''t give an inch, doesn''t make
allowance for my mother''s weariness.
It''s how they were raised: you show respect by fighting.
To let up insults the opponent.

Each player has one pile to the left, five cards in the hand.
It''s good to stay inside on days like this,
to stay where it''s cool.
And this is better than other games, better than solitaire.

My grandmother thought ahead; she prepared her daughters.
They have cards; they have each other.
They don''t need any more companionship.

All afternoon the game goes on but the sun doesn''t move.
It just keeps beating down, turning the grass yellow.
That''s how it must seem to my mother.
And then, suddenly, something is over.

My aunt''s been at it longer; maybe that''s why she''s playing better.
Her cards evaporate: that''s what you want, that''s the object: in the end,
the one who has nothing wins.


自白

要说我没有畏惧——
这不真实。
我害怕疾病,羞辱。
和任何人一样,我有许多梦想。
但我已经学会了把他们隐藏起来,
保护自己
免得心满意足:一切幸福
都会招惹命运女神的怒火。
她们是姐妹,是野蛮人——

说到底,她们
没有感情,只有嫉妒。

Confession

To say I''m without fear—
It wouldn''t be true.
I''m afraid of sickness, humiliation.
Like anyone, I have my dreams.
But I''ve learned to hide them,
To protect myself
From fulfillment: all happiness
Attracts the Fates'' anger.
They are sisters, savages—
In the end they have
No emotion but envy.


催眠曲

有一种事,我妈妈真是专家:
把她爱的人送到另一个世界。
小家伙,宝贝——这些
她轻轻摇着,哼着或唱着。我说不了
她为我爸爸做了什么;
但无论做了什么,我确信都是对的。

为一个人做好入睡,或是死亡的准备,真的
是同一件事。催眠曲——他们都说
不用害怕,他们就这样解释
妈妈的心跳。
所以活着的人慢慢地平静下来;只是
临死者做不到,他们拒绝这样。

临死者像陀螺,像回转仪——
他们旋转得飞快,看起来倒像静止一样。
然后他们飞得四散而去:在我妈妈的怀抱里,
我妹妹曾是原子云,粒子云——这就是区别。
当一个孩子睡着了,它还是囫囵个。

我妈妈已经看见过死亡;她并不谈论灵魂的完整。
她带着一个婴儿,一个老人,作为对比,黑暗
在她们周围渐渐凝固,最终变为泥土。

灵魂像所有物质一样:
它干吗要呆着不动,忠实于它的一种形式,
当它可以自由自在,不受羁绊?

Lullaby

My mother''s an expert in one thing:
sending people she loves into the other world.
The little ones, the babies—these
she rocks, whispering or singing quietly. I can''t say
what she did for my father;
whatever it was, I''m sure it was right.

It''s the same thing, really, preparing a person
for sleep, for death. The lullabies—they all say
don''t be afraid, that''s how they paraphrase
the heartbeat of the mother.
So the living grow slowly calm; it''s only
the dying who can''t, who refuse.

The dying are like tops, like gyroscopes—
they spin so rapidly they seem to be still.
Then they fly apart: in my mother''s arms,
my sister was a cloud of atoms, of particles—that''s the difference.
When a child''s asleep, it''s still whole.

My mother''s seen death; she doesn''t talk about the soul''s integrity.
She''s held an infant, an old man, as by comparison the dark grew
solid around them, finally changing to earth.

The soul''s like all matter:
why would it stay intact, stay faithful to its one form,
when it could be free?




十二月底:我和爸爸
去纽约,去马戏团。
他驮着我
在他肩上,在寒风里:
白色的碎纸片
在铁路枕木上飞舞。

爸爸喜欢
这样站着,驮着我
所以他看不见我。
我还记得
直直地盯着前面
盯着爸爸看到的世界;
我在学习
吸收世界的空虚,
大片的雪花
绕着我们飞旋,并不落下。

Snow

Late December: my father and I
are going to New York, to the circus.
He holds me
on his shoulders in the bitter wind:
scraps of white paper
blow over the railroad ties.

My father liked
to stand like this, to hold me
so he couldn''t see me.
I remember
staring straight ahead
into the world my father saw;
I was learning
to absorb its emptiness,
the heavy snow
not falling, whirling around us.


最初的记忆

很久以前,我受到伤害。我活着
就是为了替自己
向爸爸复仇,不是因为
他的过去——而是因为
我的过去:从一开始,
童年时,我就认为
所谓痛苦,就表示
我没有被人爱过。
这表示我还爱着。

First Memory

Long ago, I was wounded. I lived
to revenge myself
against my father, not
for what he was—
for what I was: from the beginning of time,
in childhood, I thought
that pain meant
I was not loved.
It meant I loved.


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