兰多•杰葇 (Randall Jarrell, 1914 - 1965)，美国诗人，作家兼文学评论家。生于田纳西州，就读于范德比尔特大学，获学士和硕士学位。后追随批评家克罗•兰色姆（John Crowe Ransom）转到凯恩学院任教。二战时，杰葇曾在美国空军服役。晚年精神抑郁，1965年遭遇车祸去世。杰葇是美国国会图书馆第11任诗歌顾问（即现在的桂冠诗人）。罗伯特•洛厄尔曾称杰葇为“我们时代最令人心碎的诗人…写出了关于二战最好的英语诗。”
丧失
不是就要死了：每个人都死了。
不是就要死了：在例行的坠毁中
我们已经死去了—而我们的训练场
打电话给报纸，写信给我们的家人，
而且保险费[1]上涨了，都是因为我们。
我们因翻错了天文历的书页而死去，
散布在五十英哩外的山上；
俯冲到干草垛上，和一位朋友打架，
我们在没看到的电线[2]上燃烧起来。
我们像姨娘[3]或宠物或外国人一样死去。
（我们离开中学的时候，还真没有别的什么死去过，
因而弄不清楚我们是像什么一样死去的。）
乘坐我们的新飞机，和新的队员一起，我们轰炸
沙漠或海岸附近的靶场，
向拖曳的靶子开火，等待我们的分数—
然后成了替换部队，然后一天早上
醒来，到了英格兰上空，开始参与军事行动。
没有什么不同：可是如果我们死了，
那不是意外而是个错失
（而是个任何人都容易犯的错失）。
我们读信，细数我们的任务[4]—
乘坐以女孩命名的轰炸机，我们焚烧
在学校里听说过的城市—
直到我们的生命耗尽；我们的尸体躺在
被我们杀死，从未见过的人中间。
我们若坚持久了，他们给我们奖章；
我们若死了，他们说，“我们的死伤人数不高。”
他们说，“就是这些地图”；我们焚烧城市。
不是就要死了—不，从来不是就要死了；
可是我死的那天晚上我梦见我死了，
而那些城市对我说：“为什么你就要死了？
如果你就要死了，我们就满足了；可是为什么我死了？”
1944年
注：
1) 原文rates亦可指伤亡率。
2) 原文lines亦可指报纸头条。
3) 原文aunts（姨娘）与ants（蚂蚁）同音。
2) 欧洲战区的美国轰炸机队员在执行了既定数量的战斗任务之后，便可以轮换回国。
Losses
It was not dying: everybody died.
It was not dying: we had died before
In the routine crashes-- and our fields
Called up the papers, wrote home to our folks,
And the rates rose, all because of us.
We died on the wrong page of the almanac,
Scattered on mountains fifty miles away;
Diving on haystacks, fighting with a friend,
We blazed up on the lines we never saw.
We died like aunts or pets or foreigners.
(When we left high school nothing else had died
For us to figure we had died like.)
In our new planes, with our new crews, we bombed
The ranges by the desert or the shore,
Fired at towed targets, waited for our scores--
And turned into replacements and woke up
One morning, over England, operational.
It wasn't different: but if we died
It was not an accident but a mistake
(But an easy one for anyone to make.)
We read our mail and counted up our missions--
In bombers named for girls, we burned
The cities we had learned about in school--
Till our lives wore out; our bodies lay among
The people we had killed and never seen.
When we lasted long enough they gave us medals;
When we died they said, “Our casualties were low. ”
They said, “Here are the maps”; we burned the cities.
It was not dying --no, not ever dying;
But the night I died I dreamed that I was dead,
And the cities said to me: “Why are you dying?
We are satisfied, if you are; but why did I die? ”
1944
球形炮塔机炮手之死
从我妈的沉睡中我跌进了这“国家”，[1]
在它肚子里蹲伏，直到我的湿毛皮冻住。
离地六英哩，脱离了它的生命之梦，
我被黑色的高射炮火和噩梦战斗机弄醒。
我死了，他们就用蒸汽喉[2]把我从炮塔里冲走。
1945年
注：
1) 原文the State可指此机炮手乘坐的轰炸机的名字，也有状态，状况的意思。
2) 原文hose更常见的意思是水喉，作者注释为蒸汽喉。
The Death of the Ball Turret Gunner
From my mother's sleep I fell into the State,
And I hunched in its belly till my wet fur froze.
Six miles from earth, loosed from its dream of life,
I woke to black flak and the nightmare fighters.
When I died they washed me out of the turret with a hose.
1945
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