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露易丝.格丽克(2020年诺奖获得者)诗歌试译

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发表于 2020-10-11 17:49:29 | 显示全部楼层 |阅读模式
露易丝.格丽克(2020年诺奖获得者)诗歌试译

头生子(1968)(FIRSTBORN (1968)
献给我的老师(TO MY TEACHER)

一 卵(I THE EGG




芝加哥列车
   
   (选自 FIRSTBORN (1968) )
   作者:(美)露易丝.格丽克(Louise Glück)
   译者:剑郭琴符
   
   
   在我对面,整个行驶
   几乎没有动静:只有不知姓名的先生把他那光秃秃的
   脑袋放在扶手上,那孩子
   把头夹在妈妈的双腿间睡着了。代替空气的
   毒药占了上风。
   他们坐着---好像死前的瘫痪
   把他们钉在那里。这条轨道向南弯曲。
   我看见她的胯部在跳动…虱子在那婴儿的头发里扎根。
The Chicago Train
   
   Across from me the whole ride
   Hardly stirred: just Mister with his barren
   Skull across the arm-rest while the kid
   Got his head between his mama's legs and slept. The poison
   That replaces air took over.
   And they sat---as though paralysis preceding death
   Had nailed them there. The track bent south.
   I saw her pulsing crotch ... the lice rooted in that baby's hair.


   
   (选自 FIRSTBORN (1968) )
   作者:(美)露易丝.格丽克(Louise Glück)
   译者:剑郭琴符  
   
   
   一
   
   一切都进入车里。
   睡在车里,像天使
   睡在成了沙丘的墓地里,
   不复存在。一周的肉
   变质了,豌豆
   在豆荚里咯咯笑着说:我们
   偷窃。然后在埃德加敦
   我听到我的内脏
   滚进婴儿床…
   在大西洋洗内衣
   触摸太阳之海
   当光照充分
   它能吞噬水。
   在埃德加敦后
   我们走了另一条路。
   
   二
   
   直到高处越过
   消毒柜,他那硕大的手
   涌向,肉食性的,
   猎物。在它下面,
   湿淋淋的白色,拆卸
   向魔杖打开,
   我看到灯
   在他的眼镜里汇聚。
   茶苯海明。你让他
   抢劫我。但是
   多久?多久?
   越过餐具,我看到
   我的身体像一滴泪珠拉伸
   沿着纸。
   
   三
   
   总有夜晚,我感到大海
   啮咬我的生命。从
   入口,在这个
   港湾,等等的网中。危险的。
   然后,麻木
   在你呼吸的波旁威士忌酒
   涟漪中
   我打结…
   穿过海滩,鱼
   正进入。没有皮肤,
   没有鳍,赤裸的
   家庭头骨
   仍然固定着,与
   其他废物堆在一起。
   壳,壳。月亮
   在它们嘴里呼啸,
   穿过喘息的贻贝。
   撬开的肉。像行星的
   苍蝇,夹紧的贝壳
   穿过波涛的维罗尼卡姐妹(1)
   盲目地叮当作响…
   这东西
   正在孵化。看。骨头
   弯曲着要让位。
   黑暗。黑暗。
   他带了一个碗抓住
   婴儿的碎片。
   
   (1)维罗尼卡姐妹: the Veronicas是来自于澳洲布里斯本的两个双胞胎姐妹(是同卵双胞胎)Lisa和Jessica。她们自己写歌,自己唱歌。两人拥有意大利的血统。两人在澳洲布里斯本出生长大,也在那完成高中学业。
   
   附记:本诗描绘的生命萌动太精彩了,受精卵顽强地在子宫里分裂,就像天地创生。
The Egg
   
   I
   
   Everything went in the car.
   Slept in the car, slept
   Like angels in the duned graveyards,
   Being gone. A week's meat
   Spoiled, peas
   Giggled in their pods: we
   Stole. And then in Edgartown
   I heard my insides
   Roll into a crib ...
   Washing underwear in the Atlantic
   Touched the sun’s sea
   As light welled
   That could devour water.
   After Edgartown
   We went the other way.
   
   II
   
   Until aloft beyond
   The sterilizer his enormous hands
   Swarmed, carnivorous,
   For prey. Beneath which,
   Dripping white, stripped
   Open to the wand,
   I saw the lamps
   Converging in his glasses.
   Dramamine. You let him
   Rob me. But
   How long? how long?
   Past cutlery I saw
   My body stretching like a tear
   Along the paper.
   
   III
   
   Always nights I feel the ocean
   Biting at my life. By
   Inlet, in this net
   Of bays, and on. Unsafe.
   And on, numb
   In the bourbon ripples
   Of your breath
   I knot...
   Across the beach the fish
   Are coming in. Without skins,
   Without fins, the bare
   Households of their skulls
   Still fixed, piling
   With the other waste.
   Husks, husks. Moons
   Whistle in their mouths,
   Through gasping mussels.
   Pried flesh. And flies
   Like planets, clamped shells
   Clink blindly through
   Veronicas of waves ...
   The thing
   Is hatching. Look. The bones
   Are bending to give way.
   It’s dark. It’s dark.
   He's brought a bowl to catch
   The pieces of the baby.
   
感恩节
   
   (选自 FIRSTBORN (1968) )
   作者:(美)露易丝.格丽克(Louise Glück)
   译者:剑郭琴符
   
   在每个房间,被一个
   来自耶鲁的无名南方男孩包围,
   有我妹妹唱的费里尼主题曲
   并打电话
   而我们其他人则不停地移动她丢弃的靴子
   或坐着喝酒。外面,二十九度,一只流浪猫
   在我们的车道上吃草,
   寻找废物。它划破了桶。
   没有其他声音。
   然而,一直准备的那一顿丰盛的慰藉餐
   挪向炉子。我妈妈
   手里拿着叉子。
   我看着她打褶的皮肤
   好像她错过自己的幼崽,而少量洋葱片
   在分叉的死亡上模糊了雪。
Thanksgiving   
   
   In every room, encircled by a name-less Southern boy from Yale,
   There was my younger sister singing a Fellini theme
   And making phone calls
   While the rest of us kept moving her discarded boots
   Or sat and drank. Outside, in twenty-nine degrees, a stray cat
   Grazed in our driveway,
   Seeking waste. It scratched the pail.
   There were no other sounds.
   Yet on and on the preparation of that vast consoling meal
   Edged toward the stove. My mother
   Had the skewers in her hands.
   I watched her tucking skin
   As though she missed her young, while bits of onion
   Misted snow over the pronged death.

犹豫于打电话
   
   (选自 FIRSTBORN (1968) )
   作者:(美)露易丝.格丽克(Louise Glück)
   译者:剑郭琴符
   
   活着看到你把我
   扔到一边。我内心
   像网中鱼一样打架。看到你悸动
   在我的糖浆里。看见你睡着了。活着看到
   一切的一切冲进
   垃圾。完事了?
   它活在我心里。
   你活在我心里。恶性的。
   爱,你曾经要我,别。
Hesitate to Call
   
   Lived to see you throwing
   Me aside. That fought
   Like netted fish inside me. Saw you throbbing
   In my syrups. Saw you sleep. And lived to see
   That all that all flushed down
   The refuse. Done?
   It lives in me.
   You live in me. Malignant.
   Love, you ever want me, don't.

我的表姐在四月
   
   (选自 FIRSTBORN (1968) )
   作者:(美)露易丝.格丽克(Louise Glück)
   译者:剑郭琴符
   
   在天蓝色下,在她后院多节的大黄中
   我的表姐蹲着,和她的孩子咯咯笑,拍拍
   他的秃顶。从一扇窗户,我可以捕捉到他们细软薄布罗勒,
   光滑的硅土,黄土,透过地上的龙蒿
   锦缎,或停在车库下的
   椭圆阴影。紧张的、祖母绿的
   一些根茎扇动着,掠过我表姐的膝盖
   当她向婴儿上下弯着腰。
   我在给她第二个孩子织毛衣。
   仿佛,沿着数英里的晚餐,没有听到她愤怒地
   摇动她的床,以为她躺在床上,困在愤怒中多年…
   啊,但是她身体里的这种激动不得不苏醒。在紫罗兰,
   杜鹃花中,围绕周围整个到达的花园
   现在她和她的儿子经过我停下来
   捕捉的东西,早期芽期,在涌动的草上。
My Cousin in April
   
   Under cerulean, amid her backyard’s knobby rhubarb squats
   My cousin to giggle with her baby, pat
   His bald top. From a window I can catch them mull basil,
   Glinty silica, sienna through the ground's brocade
   Of tarragon or pause under the oblong shade
   Of the garage. The nervous, emerald
   Fanning of some rhizome skims my cousin's knee
   As up and down she bends to the baby.
   I'm knitting sweaters for her second child.
   As though, down miles of dinners, had not heard her rock her bed
   In rage and thought it years she lay, locked in that tantrum ...
   Oh but such stir as in her body had to come round. Amid violet,
   Azalea, round around the whole arriving garden
   Now with her son she passes what I paused
   To catch, the early bud phases, on the springing grass.

失去的孩子回来了
   
   (选自 FIRSTBORN (1968) )
   作者:(美)露易丝.格丽克(Louise Glück)
   译者:剑郭琴符
   
   什么都不动。在它的笼子里,一把扇子
   破碎的花无力地
   摇曳,它的金属丝滴答作响,当她纤细的
   胳膊,像苍蝇纸悬挂,缠绕男孩…
   后来,堵住了门口,舌头
   被钉在他爸爸的肥楔上,他看着
   当我发现另一个房间,父亲拄着
   拐杖,等着被唤醒…
   现在从对躺在我杯里女人的柠檬水的
   感谢中挤出。当她没完没了捡取
   她用过的面巾纸丢进尘土,总是
   盯着那个男人,听到咔嚓声,
   他脑中旋转的空纺锤的咔嚓声…
Returning a Lost Child   
   
   Nothing moves. In its cage, the broken
   Blossom of a fan sways
   Limply, trickling its wire, as her thin
   Arms, hung like flypaper, twist about the boy ...
   Later, blocking the doorway, tongue
   Pinned to the fat wedge of his pop, he watches
   As I find the other room, the father strung
   On crutches, waiting to be roused ...
   Now squeezed from thanks the woman's lemonade lies
   In my cup. As endlessly she picks
   Her spent kleenex into dust, always
   Staring at that man, hearing the click,
   Click of his brain's whirling empty spindle ...

劳动节
   
   (选自 FIRSTBORN (1968) )
   作者:(美)露易丝.格丽克(Louise Glück)
   译者:剑郭琴符
   
   他胳膊上需要一些可爱的东西
   把我带到斯坦福,康涅狄格州,一个准农场,
   他家的;后来,我去接查理的
   一个猛犸女朋友,同时想把我押给
   第三个也要去度周末的男人。
   但是星期六我们仍然是一对;把时间消磨在
   蔓延的土地上四脚朝天,
   直到草地因潮湿变得
   软弱无力。像我一样。约翰斯顿宝贝,我仍然可以看到
   倾泻的三叶草,毛刺针刺般的皮和狼吞虎咽的
   牧场,它们喷出无限的小铃铛。你这个男妓。
Labor Day   
   
   Requiring something lovely on his arm
   Took me to Stamford, Connecticut, a quasi-farm,
   His family's; later picking up the mammoth
   Girlfriend of Charlie, meanwhile trying to pawn me off
   On some third guy also up for the weekend.
   But Saturday we still were paired; spent
   It sprawled across that sprawling acreage
   Until the grass grew limp
   With damp. Like me. Johnston-baby, I can still see
   The pelted clover, burrs' prickle fur and gorged
   Pastures spewing infinite tiny bells. You pimp.

(选自  Chinese Whispers )
作者:(美)约翰.阿什贝利(John Ashberry)
译者:剑郭琴符
(选自  Chinese Whispers )
作者:(美)约翰.阿什贝利(John Ashberry)
译者:剑郭琴符

伤口
   
   (选自 FIRSTBORN (1968) )
   作者:(美)露易丝.格丽克(Louise Glück)
   译者:剑郭琴符
   
   空气硬成一个外壳。
   从床上,我注视
   苍蝇的血块,蟋蟀
   在搜身,在窃笑。现在
   天气是这样的油脂。
   我整天都闻到烤肉的味道
   如同幽灵。你
   扎根于书。
   你做你的事。
   在这里,我卧室的墙壁
   是佩斯利旋纹图案,就像胚胎的
   密谋。我躺在这里,
   等待它的踢腿。
   我的爱。我的房客。
   当灌木长得
   毛茸茸,开花并播种。
   树篱长满绒毛
   种子和月光
   透过纱布喋喋不休。
   粘糊糊的窗帘。假装
   和隔壁的一对玩拼字游戏
   我看着你抓紧你的空白。
   他们俩都在服用耐波他,
   一种致命的药丸。
   
   我被固定。小心离去,
   乞求点头,
   你忠诚地在我头上徘徊。我闭上
   眼睛。现在
   监狱下降到位:
   成熟的东西在阳光里摇曳,
   植物的部件,叶子
   碎片…
   你正在用床单
   盖住小床。我觉得
   没有尽头。没有尽头。它在我中
   抛锚。它还活着。
The Wound
   
   The air stiffens to a crust.
   From bed I watch
   Clots of flies, crickets
   Frisk and titter. Now
   The weather is such grease.
   All day I smell the roasts
   Like presences. You
   Root into your books.
   You do your stuff.
   In here my bedroom walls
   Are paisley, like a plot
   Of embryos. I lie here,
   Waiting for its kick.
   My love. My tenant.
   As the shrubs grow
   Downy, bloom and seed.
   The hedges grow downy
   And seed and moonlight
   Burbles through the gauze.
   Sticky curtains. Faking scrabble
   With the pair next door
   I watched you clutch your blank.
   They’re both on Nembutal,
   The killer pill.
   
   And I am fixed. Gone careful,
   Begging for the nod,
   You hover loyally above my head. I close
   My eyes. And now
   The prison falls in place:
   Ripe things sway in the light,
   Parts of plants, leaf
   Fragments ...
   You are covering the cot
   With sheets. I feel
   No end. No end. It stalls
   In me. It’s still alive.


银尖
   
   (选自 FIRSTBORN (1968) )
   作者:(美)露易丝.格丽克(Louise Glück)
   译者:剑郭琴符
   
   我妹妹,在大西洋
   敲响的扭结旁,接受光。
   在她身后,海藻环绕着,碎浪花链条的
   连接相遇又断开,泡沫通过海鸟的
   手镯。风下沉。她立即感觉不到
   变化。这需要时间。我妹妹,
   短暂搅拌,安排
   毛巾,眉毛像一只小鸡,在火下。
Silverpoint
   
   
   My sister, by the chiming kinks
   Of the Atlantic Ocean, takes in light.
   Beyond her, wreathed in algae, links on links
   Of breakers meet and disconnect, foam through bracelets
   Of seabirds. The wind sinks. She does not feel the change
   At once. It will take time. My sister,
   Stirring briefly to arrange
   Her towel, browns like a chicken, under fire.

  

十二月初在哈德逊河畔的克罗顿
   
   (选自 FIRSTBORN (1968) )
   作者:(美)露易丝.格丽克(Louise Glück)
   译者:剑郭琴符
   
   尖刺的太阳。哈得逊河
   被冰削尖。
   我听到吹填砾石的
   骨骰子咔嗒作响。骨头般
   苍白,最近的雪
   像毛皮紧固在河里。
   停顿。去年,我们正要去送
   圣诞礼物的时候,轮胎
   爆了。在死气沉沉的阀门上方,被暴风雨
   削皮的松树站立着,四肢赤裸…
   我要你。
Early December in Croton-on-Hudson   
   
   Spiked sun. The Hudson's
   Whittled down by ice.
   I hear the bone dice
   Of blown gravel clicking. Bone-
   pale, the recent snow
   Fastens like fur to the river.
   Standstill. We were leaving to deliver
   Christmas presents when the tire blew
   Last year. Above the dead valves pines pared
   Down by a storm stood, limbs bared ...
   I want you.


 楼主| 发表于 2020-10-12 14:45:49 | 显示全部楼层
二 边缘(II THE EDGE
边缘
   
   (选自 FIRSTBORN (1968) )
   作者:(美)露易丝.格丽克(Louise Glück)
   译者:剑郭琴符
   
   
   
   一次又一次,一次又一次我
   把我的心绑在那床头板上
   而我加衬芯的哭声
   在他的手上变得越来越硬。他很厌烦——
   我明白。我不是在舔食他的贿赂,把他的花束
   放在水里吗?在母亲的花边上,我看着他开车进了戳伤的
   烧烤野餐,在他的仁慈下处理碎片…看在孩子们的份上
   我能感觉到他的大腿抵着我。奖励?
   每天早上,伤害这所房子,
   我看见他烤着烤面包,品着
   咖啡,防范地。垃圾是我的早餐。
The Edge
   
   
   Time and again, time and again I tie
   My heart to that headboard
   While my quilted cries
   Harden against his hand. He’s bored---
   I see it. Don't I lick his bribes, set his bouquets
   In water? Over Mother's lace I watch him drive into the gored
   Roasts, deal slivers in his mercy ... I can feel his thighs
   Against me for the children’s sakes. Reward?
   Mornings, crippled with this house,
   I see him toast his toast and test
   His coffee, hedgingly. The waste's my breakfast.

祖母在花园
   
   (选自 FIRSTBORN (1968) )
   作者:(美)露易丝.格丽克(Louise Glück)
   译者:剑郭琴符
   
   我女儿洗涤的
   柳树下的草被蚯蚓
   卷曲,世界
   被一排排未加香料的房子
   度量,被画得看起来是真的。
   被麻醉的长岛夏天阳光抽干了
   图案,从那些空袖子里,越过我孙子
   在他笔中的尖叫。我活了下来。
   黄色日光在橡树叶上形成线条
   电线般的葡萄藤随着婴儿无变化的变化
   融化。我的孩子有他们丈夫的手。
   我丈夫被放在框中,光秃秃的像个婴儿靠在他们的钢琴上,
   我伟大的男人。我闭上眼睛。我扔掉的
   所有衣服都回到我的身边,我女儿们
   长衬衣的凹陷……它们飘流;我看到透明的
   夏日棉絮飘荡,相当于空气。
Grandmother in the Garden   
   
   The grass below the willow
   Of my daughter's wash is curled
   With earthworms, and the world
   Is measured into row on row
   Of unspiced houses, painted to seem real.
   The drugged Long Island summer sun drains
   Pattern from those empty sleeves, beyond my grandson
   Squealing in his pen. I have survived my life.
   The yellow daylight lines the oak leaf
   And the wire vines melt with the unchanged changes
   Of the baby. My children have their husbands' hands.
   My husband's framed, propped bald as a baby on their pianos,
   My tremendous man. I close my eyes. And all the clothes
   I have thrown out come back to me, the hollows
   Of my daughters’ slips …they drift; I see the sheer
   Summer cottons drift, equivalent to air.

战争中人们的照片
   
   (选自 FIRSTBORN (1968) )
   作者:(美)露易丝.格丽克(Louise Glück)
   译者:剑郭琴符
   
   稍后我会把灯罩拉下来
   让这种液体从纸上拉出生命。
   告诉方法。除了不向你
   展示装备,我首先会分享
   我对这件事的想象:头的角度
   淹没在定影器里,光秃秃的
   灵魂在它的背景里;你看,它完成了速度
   和灯光,但我的观点是,一个人永远不会
   在经验范围内如此接近任何人。我拍了
   这些战争中的人们的照片
   大约一年前——他们的手像语言一样向我
   张开;坦克和住宅同时在后面模糊。
   Pictures of the People in the War
   
   Later I'll pull down the shade
   And let this fluid draw life out of the paper.
   Telling how. Except instead
   Of showing you equipment I would first off share
   My vision of the thing: the angle of that head
   Submerged in fixer there, the bare
   Soul in its set; you see, it’s done with speed
   And lighting but my point is that one never
   Gets so close to anyone within experience. I took
   These pictures of the people in the war
   About a year ago---their hands were opening to me like
   Language; tanks and dwellings meanwhile misty in the rear.
赛车手的遗孀
   
   (选自 FIRSTBORN (1968) )
   作者:(美)露易丝.格丽克(Louise Glück)
   译者:剑郭琴符
   
   这些因素已经融入到关怀之中。
   紫罗兰的痉挛从泥泞
   和杂草中升起,很快,鸟儿和古人
   将开始抵达,丧失亲友指向
   南方。但没关系。讨论他的死
   并不痛苦。我早就做好了准备,为这件事,
   为分离,为这么久。但他的脸仍然
   在攻击我,我能听到那辆车又在猛冲,人群在我睡梦中凝结
   在沥青上。看着他,我觉得我的腿像雪
   让他终于放他走
   当他躺在那里放干。看到
   他怎么也没能保住那可爱的身体。
The Racer’s Widow
   
   
   The elements have merged into solicitude.
   Spasms of violets rise above the mud
   And weed and soon the birds and ancients
   Will be starting to arrive, bereaving points
   South. But never mind. It is not painful to discuss
   His death. I have been primed for this,
   For separation, for so long. But still his face assaults
   Me, I can hear that car careen again, the crowd coagulate on asphalt
   In my sleep. And watching him, I feel my legs like snow
   That let him finally let him go
   As he lies draining there. And see
    How even he did not get to keep that lovely body.

女王含泪的画像
   
   (选自 FIRSTBORN (1968) )
   作者:(美)露易丝.格丽克(Louise Glück)
   译者:剑郭琴符
   
   正如我的父亲,已故的明星,曾经告诉我,
   儿子,他告诉我,儿子,一直以来
   翡翠般的财富在他的小指上咪咪叫着,
   缎子打滚,在他肩上
   和他最新的妻子,胖胖的
   不合身,如此深刻地笔直
   她试图拥有我,在她的罗尔斯
   作为穆里尔中,我的母亲,铺开楼梯
   用她过多的衣服
   在花园里的派对结束之前。
   在那里---我自己!我自己!---哦,新鲜的
   黑烤箱来自墨西哥---他们让我
   独唱到黎明
   当乐手离开,远远地,
   游泳池里冒出了昏暗的,点燃的小鸡…
   经过那里,在屋檐下那片
   寂静的草地上,我父亲的前
   制作人飘落着花瓣,在她举起的土堆上
   就像妈妈把一个女孩的纱布身体
   抱在腿上…我不是一直这样生活的,
   你知道。然而,我那光彩夺目的,间接的过去
   让我能够忍受这些尖叫的夜晚
   和灾难。我不是说你。不,你,亲爱的,
   就像那些成对的舞者一样可爱,他们连在一起
   像手上的道具,沿着我以前的
   宅邸的后草坪,
   无论那是在哪里,或者我
   当我母亲的男孩子们会像狗一样
   为我起来搅动,献殷勤,
   从她们衣服里渗出的女人们
   肆意妄为…那时候我也是一个红人。
Portrait of the Queen in Tears   
   
   As my father, the late star, once told me,
   Son, he told me, son, and all the while
   That emerald fortune mewing on his pinky,
   Satin wallowing about his shoulders
   With his latest wife, fat
   Misfit, so profoundly straight
   She tried to own me in her Rolls
   As Muriel, my mother, spread their staircase
   With the surfeit of her dress
   Before that party wound up in the garden.
   Where---myself! myself!---O oven-
   fresh and black from Mexico---they kept me
   Soloing right into dawn
   When the musicians quit as, far away,
   The pool foamed with dim, lit chickies ...
   Past which, in that still grass
   Beyond the canopies, my father's ex-
   Producer drifted petals on her lifted mound
   As Mama held the gauze body of some girl across
   Her legs ... I have not always lived like this,
   You know. And yet my sequined, consequential past
   Enables me to bear these shrieking nights
   And disasters. I do not mean you. No, you, love,
   Are as delightful as those coupled dancers strung
   Like hand props down the back lawn
   Of my former mansion,
   Wherever that was, or as I was
   When my mother’s boys would rise and stir
   Like dogs for me, make offers,
   Women oozing from their stays
   Go wild ... I also was a hot property in those days.
婚礼片段
   
   (选自 FIRSTBORN (1968) )
   作者:(美)露易丝.格丽克(Louise Glück)
   译者:剑郭琴符
   
   我们的蜜月
   他把我们种在
   水边。那是三月。月亮
   像探照灯蹒跚,像
   他在我脑中喃喃低语---
   他必须走自己的路。湿风
   沿着海滩
   打鼾…我想要
   我的天真无邪。我看到
   我的家人现在被凝固在
   门口,没有改变,没有改变。他们的米饭凝结在
   他的车周围。为了好玩,他把我们的铺盖
   锁在衣箱里,后来,在
   最深处。四轮马车。他在睡梦中到达我。
Bridal Piece
   
   Our honeymoon
   He planted us by
   Water. It was March. The moon
   Lurched like searchlights, like
   His murmurings across my brain---
   He had to have his way. As down
   The beach the wet wind
   Snored ... I want
   My innocence. I see
   My family frozen in the doorway
   Now, unchanged, unchanged. Their rice congeals
   Around his car. He locked our bedroll
   In the trunk for laughs, later, at the deep
   End. Rockaway. He reaches for me in his sleep.


 楼主| 发表于 2020-10-13 14:37:53 | 显示全部楼层


镜中的我邻居
   
   (选自 FIRSTBORN (1968) )
   作者:(美)露易丝.格丽克(Louise Glück)
   译者:剑郭琴符
   
   教授先生明显高龄
   在大厅对面整理他的散文
   和诗歌集。从一次疯狂购物中回来
   不久前,我发现他停下来摆姿势
   在宏伟半侧面的落地镜前。
   在楼梯上不可能避免碰面
   我认为最好是坦率地
   微笑,仿佛我们两个人在这种轻率行为中
   占有同等的份额。但他点头的表现
   很吃力,玫瑰棕榈的无限礼貌
   为问候的欺诈
   展开。至少,最近他的
   日程安排有些变化。他现在毫无热情地
   接受,而且,从他的拒绝来判断,除了燕麦片他吃得很少。
My Neighbor in the Mirror
   
   
   M. le professeur in prominent senility
   Across the hall tidies his collected prose
   And poems. Returning from a shopping spree
   Not long ago, I caught him pausing to pose
   Before the landing mirror in grandiose semi-profile.
   It being impossible to avoid encounter on the stairs
   I thought it best to smile
   Openly, as though we two held equal shares
   In the indiscretion. But his performance of a nod
   Was labored and the infinite politesse of rose palm
   Unfurled for salutation fraud-
   ulent. At any rate, lately there's been some
   Change in his schedule. He receives without zeal
   Now, and, judging by his refuse, eats little but oatmeal.

我黎明前的生活
   
   (选自 FIRSTBORN (1968) )
   作者:(美)露易丝.格丽克(Louise Glück)
   译者:剑郭琴符
   
   有时在晚上我会想起我们是怎么
   做的,(想)我像钢铁一样钉进她,(想)她
   对条纹轮廓纸的过度
   渴望(后来我烧掉了它),这让我高兴
   我告诉她---在厨房里她切自制面包---
   她总是做得太多---我告诉她对不起,宝贝,你得到了
   你的那份。(我发现她身上的污渍
   风干进我的头发。)
   她哭了。这仍然不能解释我的梦魇:
   她怎么像她的酵母面团一样涌进
   门道,尖叫着这是我,亲爱的,回到鲜活的气色
   这么多年以后。
My Life Before Dawn
   
   
   Sometimes at night I think of how we did
   It, me nailed in her like steel, her
   Over-eager on the striped contour
   Sheet (I later burned it) and it makes me glad
   I told her---in the kitchen cutting homemade bread---
   She always did too much---I told her Sorry baby you have had
   Your share. (I found her stain had dried into my hair.)
   She cried. Which still does not explain my nightmares:
   How she surges like her yeast dough through the door-
   way shrieking It is I, love, back in living color
   After all these years.
   

单身女
   
   (选自 FIRSTBORN (1968) )
   作者:(美)露易丝.格丽克(Louise Glück)
   译者:剑郭琴符
   
   如蜗牛和海螺般与世隔绝
   在埃德加敦,大西洋
   升起,堆积垃圾
   在毛绒绒的,广阔的沙滩,学究式的
   
   茶会,在喧嚣声中
   我仍然管理着这片外围地带,
   涉水只有几步,下面
   一堆堆过度杀戮:
   
   水母。但我看到
   从一排碎浪渗回来的
   浮油。有销路的光泽。
   塞满的旅馆。一个害羞,近视的
   
   水手曾经爱过我,就在这附近。
   那年七月我们租的避暑别墅
   是白色的,光秃秃的
   墙板;他几乎看不见
   
   吻,仍然试着
   和家人玩槌球---几乎像个女孩,
   头发散开在她补偿花的
   花香上。我以为我的记忆
   
   消逝了。但他的幽灵
   却在平底锅烤肉上方的烟雾中成形了。
   五年了。在黑暗中(1),弹射的心脏嗡嗡作响
   像安德罗墨达(仙女座)(2)。没人打电话。
   
   (1) In tenebris:意大利语,歌曲名。
   (2)参阅希腊神话。
The Lady in the Single
      
   Cloistered as the snail and conch
   In Edgartown where the Atlantic
   Rises to deposit junk
   On plush, extensive sand and the pedantic
   
   Meet for tea, amid brouhaha
   I have managed this peripheral still,
   Wading just steps below
   The piles of overkill:
   
   Jellyfish. But I have seen
   The slick return of one that oozed back
   On a breaker. Marketable sheen.
   The stuffed hotel. A shy, myopic
   
   Sailor loved me once, near here.
   The summer house we’d taken for July
   Was white that year, bare
   Shingle; he could barely see
   
   To kiss, still tried to play
   Croquet with the family---like a girl almost,
   With loosed hair on her bouquet
   Of compensating flowers. I thought I was past
   
   The memory. And yet his ghost
   Took shape in smoke above the pan roast.
   Five years. In tenebris the catapulted heart drones
   Like Andromeda. No one telephones.

地铁里的跛子
   
   (选自 FIRSTBORN (1968) )
   作者:(美)露易丝.格丽克(Louise Glück)
   译者:剑郭琴符
   
   有一段时间,我以为已经
   习惯了它(腿),几乎没听到
   向下用力,向下用力
   在铁衣服的木头、水泥等上
   我告诉自己,记忆
   也会消失,滴答的
   跳绳和脚踏车,在
   我妹妹下面飞的脚踏车,冻结了
   光,向后弯,刺入
   一道红铬色闪光
   比我的夹子还亮,或
   比早晨还亮,它从这个坑飞驰而过
   燃烧着火红的恐怖,他们的薄
   靴子在不停地闪烁,所有那些轻松的童装。
The Cripple in the Subway
   
   
   For awhile I thought had gotten
   Used to it (the leg) and hardly heard
   That down-hard, down-hard
   Upon wood, cement, etc. of the iron
   Trappings and I'd tell myself the memories
   Would also disappear, tick-
   ing jump-ropes and the bike, the bike
   That flew beneath my sister, froze
   Light, bent back its
   Stinging in a flash of red chrome brighter
   Than my brace or brighter
   Than the morning whirling past this pit
   Flamed with rush horror and their thin
   Boots flashing on and on, all that easy kidskin.

护士之歌
   
   (选自 FIRSTBORN (1968) )
   作者:(美)露易丝.格丽克(Louise Glück)
   译者:剑郭琴符
   
   好像我被愚弄了。那花边的身体设法忘记
   我有眼睛,有耳朵;敢把她的男朋友们弹跳到孩子上。
   今天下午,她告诉我,
   “给孩子穿上他的
   钩针裙,”然后笑了。就这样。只是微笑着,
   走了。她从来没来过。哦,天真,你的浴盆
   塞满了流言蜚语,她是一艘正在下沉的船,
   你的母亲。不会溺爱她的胸部。
   我听到你聋哑的爸爸忙着喝茶。睡吧,睡吧,
   我的天使,和你的橙色小熊依偎在一起。
   当她的情人拍你的头发时尖叫。
  Nurse’s Song
   
   
   
   As though I’m fooled. That lacy body managed to forget
   That I have eyes, ears; dares to spring her boyfriends on the child.
   This afternoon she told me,“Dress the baby in his crochet
   Dress,” and smiled. Just that. Just smiled,
   Going. She is never here. O innocence, your bathinet
   Is clogged with gossip, she's a sinking ship,
   Your mother. Wouldn’t spoil her breasts.
   I hear your deaf-numb papa fussing for his tea. Sleep, sleep,
   My angel, nestled with your orange bear.
   Scream when her lover pats your hair.

片刻
   
   (选自 FIRSTBORN (1968) )
   作者:(美)露易丝.格丽克(Louise Glück)
   译者:剑郭琴符
   
   渴望着,空了
   这么久,他所拥有的,硬度
   (我的孩子还未完全发育)
   仍然把我吸引向那枚戒指,那份
   祝福。虽然我知道他有
   多恶心:懒洋洋地消磨杜松子酒
   他缠结一些丝质的威胁,直到
   他扭我的胳膊,我的话---我的儿子
   僵硬地站在门口,看到一切,
   然后那快速的拳头穿透我的
   独生子,我的生命…我在乎,我在乎。
   我看着邻居们走向我
   带来她们的观点。现在,她们带着蛋糕的
   洁白巨大的脸浮在杯子的上方;她们微笑着,
   凹陷的女人,吮吸着她们的茶…
   我会让我的房子因为这场火灾在火焰中上升。
  Seconds
   
   Craved, having so long gone
   Empty, what he had, hardness
   That (my boy half-grown)
   Still sucked me toward that ring, that bless-
   ing. Though I knew how it is sickness
   In him: lounging in gin
   He knots some silken threat until
   He'll twist my arm, my words---my son
   Stands rigid in the doorway, seeing all,
   And then that fast fist rips across my only
   Child, my life ... I care, I care.
   I watch the neighbors coming at me
   With their views. Now huge with cake their
   White face floats above its cup; they smile,
   Sunken women, sucking at their tea ...
   I'd let my house go up in flame for this fire.

花开时节我们男人的来信
   
   (选自 FIRSTBORN (1968) )
   作者:(美)露易丝.格丽克(Louise Glück)
   译者:剑郭琴符
   
   经常有一种向东搅动的
   翠绿色给蕨类植物装上羽毛
   让人想起瑞伊阿姨破旧的
   放在框中的扇子,因为它
   一定要在鼎盛期摇曳。
   黑眼睛苏珊用蓝莓做边。陈列,
   不过,都在外面。让我描述
   我们家务管理的无条件简单。水
   结结巴巴,断断续续,在两个水槽,保持
   可靠的纯冰;天花板上
   布满了纹理,漏水的惯例
   使我们的家成为了任何人和所有天气的主人。一切都吱吱作响:
   地板,百叶窗,门。仍然,
   我们有足够惊人的风景来维持我们漂浮的
   斗志。就连玛格丽特也从容地
   相当好地在模具上获取老鼠洞。但是,啊我的朋友,我阻止了
   顿悟。昨晚,
   比第一次更为尖锐,她那白皙的
   前臂,赤裸着与晚餐进行无情的搏斗,刺穿了我;我看到
   维纳斯在那些蛤蜊中,生的
   波提切利:我不知道如此基于真理的幸福。
Letter from Our Man in Blossomtime
   
   Often an easterly churns
   Emerald feathered ferns
   Calling to mind Aunt Rae's decrepit
   Framed fan as it
   Must have flickered in its heyday.
   Black-eyed Susans rim blueberry. Display,
   However, is all on the outside. Let me describe the utter
   Simplicity of our housekeeping. The water
   Stutters fits and starts in both sinks, remaining
   Dependably pure ice; veining
   The ceiling, a convention of leaks
   Makes host of our home to any and all weather. Everything creaks:
   Floor, shutters, the door. Still,
   We have the stupendously adequate scenery to keep our morale
   Afloat. And even Margaret's taking mouseholes in the molding
   Fairly well in stride. But O my friend, I'm holding
   Back epiphany. Last night,
   More acutely than for any first time, her white
   Forearms, bared in ruthless battle with the dinner, pierced me; I saw
   Venus among those clamshells, raw
   Botticelli: I have known no happiness so based in truth.


 楼主| 发表于 2020-10-14 13:50:21 | 显示全部楼层


单人小室
   
   (选自 FIRSTBORN (1968) )
   作者:(美)露易丝.格丽克(Louise Glück)
   译者:剑郭琴符
   
   (珍妮•德•安吉斯,法国劳敦乌苏林修女院院长:1635年)
   
   它总是在那里。我的背
   因细麻布鼓起。上帝
   伤害了我---搞得
   不胜任引导,我引导。
   然而,他们工作时保持沉默。
   下午
   我在花园里散步,谁把幻觉
   藏在我的习惯下
   因为我的自我是空的…但“他”做到了,是的。
   我的父亲,
   躺在这里,我听到
   太阳吱吱作响,经过花岗岩
   进入空气,里面仍然是夜晚。
   我躲起来祈祷。黎明,
   一路独行,我能感觉到手指
   再次在我身上跳动,就像
   祝福和光秃秃的
   驼峰,在黑暗中宁静。
The Cell
   
   (Jeanne des Anges, Prioress of the Ursuline nuns, Loudun, France: 1635)
   
   It’s always there. My back’s
   Bulging through linen: God
   Damaged me---made
   Unfit to guide, I guide.
   Yet are they silent at their work.
   I walk
   The garden in the afternoon, who hid
   Delusions under my habits
   For my self was empty ... But HE did It, yes.
   My Father,
   Lying here, I hear
   The sun creak past granite
   Into air, still it is night inside.
   I hide and pray. And dawn,
   Alone all ways, I can feel the fingers
   Stir on me again like bless-
   ing and the bare
   Hump mount, tranquil in darkness.

岛民
   
   (选自 FIRSTBORN (1968) )
   作者:(美)露易丝.格丽克(Louise Glück)
   译者:剑郭琴符
   
   甜心,我给你打电话。这些年
   都没有为这旅行:
   你在地铁里跟踪小鸡,
   晚上蜷缩在小巷里,都是为了得到
   那一撮…哦,心跳,
   在椅子上扎牢。
   晚餐在黑暗中凝固。
   而我,我的王子,我的王子…
   你的水果亮了。
   我看着你的手在抓葡萄。
The Islander
   
   Sugar I am calling you. Not
   Journeyed all these years for this:
   You stalking chicken in the subways,
   Nights hunched in alleys all to get
   That pinch ... O heartbit,
   Fastened to the chair.
   The supper's freezing in the dark.
   While I, my prince, my prince ...
   Your fruit lights up.
   I watch your hands pulling at the grapes.

来自普罗旺斯的信
   
   (选自 FIRSTBORN (1968) )
   作者:(美)露易丝.格丽克(Louise Glück)
   译者:剑郭琴符
   
   除了这座桥照片般
   陷入空中,你会
   发现更多有趣的材料。
   七月的阳光
   一如既往恭维你们教皇们精致的
   城市,把花岗岩变成
   金色。那时候贫民窟停滞不前,
   粪便使人窒息。尽管如此
   它的孩子们并不完全敌对;
   不时地递上
   最迷人的笑容。我给了
   他们巧克力,在他们不会走近的
   高温下
   变软。我们听说他们靠爱生活。
Letter from Provence
   
   
   Beside the bridge's photogen-
   ic lapse into air you'll
   Find more interesting material.
   In July the sun
   Flatters your Popes' delicate
   City as always, turning granite
   Gold. The slum's at standstill then,
   Choking with droppings. Still
   Its children are not entirely hostile;
   Proffer smiles
   At intervals most charmingly. I gave
   Them chocolate, softened in the heat
   Which they would not
   Go near. We heard they live on love.

来自山洞的备忘录
   
   (选自 FIRSTBORN (1968) )
   作者:(美)露易丝.格丽克(Louise Glück)
   译者:剑郭琴符
   
   哦,亲爱的,你这密封的小鸟,
   我的棕色老鼠
   不在场的证明倒挂
   在钉板上
   带着它悬挂的罐子
   我没有小鸡给它;
   我的谎言在地板上爬行
   像家人一样,但它们的幼虫不会
   离开这个巢。我让
   绝望的床
   朝下代替你的床
   而且弄湿
   我们絮棉的罩子
   因此它猫脚般手指
   腐烂的
   气味挥之不去,当它结束的时候。
Memo from the Cave
   
   
   O love, you airtight bird,
   My mouse-brown
   Alibis hang upside-down
   Above the pegboard
   With its dangled pots
   I don’t have chickens for;
   My lies are crawling on the floor
   Like families but their larvae will not
   Leave this nest. I’ve let
   Despair bed
   Down in your stead
   And wet
   Our quilted cover
   So the rot-
   scent of its pussy-foot-
   ing fingers lingers, when it’s over.

头生子
   
   (选自 FIRSTBORN (1968) )
   作者:(美)露易丝.格丽克(Louise Glück)
   译者:剑郭琴符
   
   几周过去了。我把它们放在架子上,
   它们都一样,就像剥皮的汤罐…
   豆子在锅里变酸了。我看着寂寞的洋葱
   像欧菲莉亚(1)漂浮,油脂结成块:
   你无精打采,心不在焉玩着勺子。
   现在怎么办?你想念我的关怀吗?你的院子成熟
   成玫瑰的病房,就像一年前职员修女
   把我推下过道一样…
   你不能看。我看到
   改变信仰的爱,你的儿子,
   在玻璃下流口水,挨饿…
   
   我们正满意地吃着。
   今天我的肉贩转动他训练有素的刀
   在小牛肉上,你最喜欢的。我用我的生命偿还。
   
   (1)欧菲莉亚,莎士比亚《哈姆雷特》女主人公,死后漂浮在水上。
Firstborn
   
   
   The weeks go by. I shelve them,
   They are all the same, like peeled soup cans ...
   Beans sour in their pot. I watch the lone onion
   Floating like Ophelia, caked with grease:
   You listless, fidget with the spoon.
   What now? You miss my care? Your yard ripens
   To a ward of roses, like a year ago when staff nuns
   Wheeled me down the aisle ...
   You couldn’t look. I saw
   Converted love, your son,
   Drooling under glass, starving ...
   
   We are eating well.
   Today my meatman turns his trained knife
   On veal, your favorite. I pay with my life.

力量

   (选自 FIRSTBORN (1968) )
   作者:(美)露易丝.格丽克(Louise Glück)
   译者:剑郭琴符

   让我成为我所是。
   灰色的,粘在她梦幻的
   厨房,在骨头中,在这些
   湿淋淋的柳树中蹲着埋藏
   一只灯泡:我照料她的阴谋。她的骄傲
   和喜悦她说。我没有骄傲。
   草坪变薄;吃得太饱,
   她晚来的玫瑰在经过工具房的肥料上
   嘎嘎作响。现在牌被剪断。
   她不能吃,她不能走楼梯---
   我的生命是密封的。带着猎犬的女人
   走过来,但她不会受到伤害。
   我照顾她。
La Force
   
   
   Made me what I am.
   Gray, glued to her dream
   Kitchen, among bones, among these
   Dripping willows squatted to imbed
   A bulb: I tend her plot. Her pride
   And joy she said. I have no pride.
   The lawn thins; overfed,
   Her late roses gag on fertilizer past the tool
   House. Now the cards are cut.
   She cannot eat, she cannot take the stairs---
   My life is sealed. The woman with the hound
   Comes up but she will not be harmed.
   I have the care of her.

游戏
   
   (选自 FIRSTBORN (1968) )
   作者:(美)露易丝.格丽克(Louise Glück)
   译者:剑郭琴符
   
   但我已经这样生活了很多年。
   一切从他离开我以后---捕捉到月亮圆得像阿斯匹林一样
   同时,在大厅的另一边,那些同性恋者
   发自内心地低语…我看见我的惩罚在它的巢穴旋转:
   
   漫无目的。漫无目的。某处应该有
   一个教训。在日内瓦,这名凶残的当地妓女
   被剥皮摊开以寻求赦免,她的皮肤上
   贴着一层针织薄膜。我不记得
   
   我看到它怎么发生。那地方很脏。她坐着
   抠她的脚,直到他们敲门。就像习惯。她只是等着。
  The Game
   
   
   And yet I’ve lived like this for years.
   All since he quit me---caught the moon as round as aspirin
   While, across the hall, the heartfelt murmurs
   Of the queers ... I see my punishment revolving in its den:
   
   Around. Around. There should have been
   A lesson somewhere. In Geneva, the ferocious local whore
   Lay peeled for absolution with a tricot membrane
   Sticking to her skin. I don't remember
   
   How it happened that I saw. The place was filthy. She would sit
   And pick her feet until they knocked. Like Customs. She'd just wait.


 楼主| 发表于 2020-10-15 16:19:55 | 显示全部楼层

三 蝮蛇国(III Cottonmouth Country)


  
蝮蛇国
   (选自 FIRSTBORN (1968) )
   作者:(美)露易丝.格丽克(Louise Glück)
   译者:剑郭琴符



   鱼的骨头在哈特拉斯附近的海浪中行走。
   还有其他的迹象
   (显示)死亡向我们求爱,在水边,向我们求爱
   在陆地上:在松树丛
   一条伸直的蝮蛇翻滚在苔藓上
   在被污染的空气中养大。
   出生,而不是死亡,是严重的损失。
   我知道。在那儿我也留下了一块皮。
  
  

  
Cottonmouth Country


   Fish bones walked the waves off Hatteras.
   And there were other signs
   That Death wooed us, by water, wooed us
   By land: among the pines
   An uncurled cottonmouth that rolled on moss
   Reared in the polluted air.
   Birth, not death, is the hard loss.
   I know. I also left a skin there.
  
  


  
南塔基特岛非凡的死亡幸存者

   (选自 FIRSTBORN (1968) )
   作者:(美)露易丝.格丽克(Louise Glück)
   译者:剑郭琴符

   1

   在南塔基特岛这儿,小小的灵魂
   面对着水。然而,这种元素并不是外国的土壤;
   我把水看作是我心灵的延伸,
   是烦恼的部分,是心灵波涛的翻滚
   当他们在南塔基特岛赤裸的海岸上
   在癫痫中崩溃。我睡着的时候
   看见一个披肩的身影说,“我们的生命
   是生与死的奇迹之间的
   绳索。我是圣伊丽莎白。
   我的篮子里有刀。”
   我醒着看到了南塔基特岛,熟悉的地球。

   2

   我醒着看到了南塔基特岛,但这一声
   钟声,我可以敲响给你可见区域下的象征:
   第三天晚上来了
   一场飓风,我的圣伊丽莎白
   没有来,也没有什么能阻止租来的船
   命定的结局。波浪的凹部
   带着闪电启动我松开的桅杆
   向下飞,我跟着。他们没有告诉
   你,但骨头变成珊瑚在被遗弃的宝藏中
   仍然散发着气味。我已经错过
   你在一只贝壳里听见的东西。

   3

   错过你在一只贝壳里听见的东西,咆哮声,
   才是真正的底部:声名狼藉的平静。医生
   关上门,让我坐下,拿不到
   绳子,武器,满怀希望
   许诺说为了慈善事业圣伊丽莎白只
   运送食物或一些鲜花,我也没有葬在
   南塔基特度假岛下,那里
   海滩动物住在相对和睦与平和中。
   苍蝇,蜗牛。沉睡中我看到这些
   生物就像陆地和空中满足的天使。
   当黎明来到海边

   4

   南塔基特的大片光辉
   我不记得别的,只记得戴上小项链
   里面有我爱人的头发
   像新娘一样走路,把他戴在里面。
   从这些浅滩扩大了
   大海的仁慈。
   我的第一座房子将建在这些沙滩上,
   我的第二座在海里。
  
  

  
Phenomenal Survivals of Death in Nantucket   

   I

   Here in Nantucket does the tiny soul
   Confront the water. Yet this element is not foreign soil;
   I see the water as extension of my mind,
   The troubled part, and waves the waves of mind
   When in Nantucket they collapsed in epilepsy
   On the bare shore. I see
   A shawled figure when I am asleep who says, “Our lives
   Are strands between the miracles of birth
   And death. I am Saint Elizabeth.
   In my basket are knives.”
   Awake I see Nantucket, the familiar earth.

   II

   Awake I see Nantucket but with this bell
   Of voice I can toll you token of regions below visible:
   On the third night came
   A hurricane; my Saint Elizabeth came
   Not and nothing could prevent the rent
   Craft from its determined end. Waves dent-
   ed with lightning launched my loosed mast
   To fly downward, I following. They do not tell
   You but bones turned coral still smell
   Amid forsaken treasure. I have been past
   What you hear in a shell.

   III

   In Past what you hear in a shell, the roar,
   Is the true bottom: infamous calm. The doctor
   Having shut the door sat me down, took ropes
   Out of reach, firearms, and with high hopes
   Promised that Saint Elizabeth carried
   Only foodstuffs or some flowers for charity, nor was I buried
   Under the vacation island of Nantucket where
   Beach animals dwell in relative compatibility and peace.
   Flies, snails. Asleep I saw these
   Beings as complacent angels of the land and air.
   When dawn comes to the sea’s

   IV

   Acres of shining white body in Nantucket
   I shall not remember otherwise but wear a locket
   With my lover’s hair inside
   And walk like a bride, and wear him inside.
   From these shallows expands
   The mercy of the sea.
   My first house shall be built on these sands,
   My second in the sea.
  
  


  
复活节

   (选自 FIRSTBORN (1968) )
   作者:(美)露易丝.格丽克(Louise Glück)
   译者:剑郭琴符

   几乎没有声音…只有灌木多余的
   搅动,当芳香的温度使我们的海岸
   充满芬芳时。我看到人们用手掌传播奔放。
   在韦斯特切斯特,番红花像癌症一样扩散。

   这将是我的死亡。我感觉树叶在靠近,
   承诺从四面八方威胁我。
   这不是真的。绿色的种子荚,蓓蕾薄片的
   鸽子落下。剩下的都上升。
  
  

  
  Easter Season   

   There is almost no sound ... only the redundant stir
   Of shrubs as perfumed temperatures embalm
   Our coast. I saw the spreading gush of people with their palms.
   In Westchester, the crocus spreads like cancer.

   This will be the death of me. I feel the leaves close in,
   Promise threaten from all sides and above.
   It is not real. The green seed-pod, flaky dove
   Of the bud descend. The rest is risen.
  
  


  
碎片

   (选自 FIRSTBORN (1968) )
   作者:(美)露易丝.格丽克(Louise Glück)
   译者:剑郭琴符

   我们家
   有密码。就像
   锁,它们说
   我们从不
   对你锁门。
   从来没有。
   它们的床
   立着,一尘不染,像浴盆…
   二十年来,我每天
   都通过它,直到
   我走我的路。我的家务活
   是计时的。把遗物
   粘进书,七点,
   我看见自己
   在母亲膝下学步。
   我最喜欢的一张
   我父亲的照片显示他年近四十
   在他长子
   空虚的脸上抒情。
   司空见惯的奇迹。
  
  

  
Scraps


   We had codes
   In our house. Like
   Locks; they said
   We never lock
   Our door to you.
   And never did.
   Their bed
   Stood, spotless as a tub ...
   I passed it every day
   For twenty years, until
   I went my way. My chore
   Was marking time. Gluing
   Relics into books I saw
   Myself at seven learning
   Distance at my mother's knee.
   My favorite snapshot of my
   Father shows him pushing forty
   And lyrical
   Above his firstborn's empty face.
   The usual miracle.
  
  


  
树屋

   (选自 FIRSTBORN (1968) )
   作者:(美)露易丝.格丽克(Louise Glück)
   译者:剑郭琴符

   桶在链子上下垂,腐烂了,
   在那里井被泥沼
   冲洗,当一团团的
   芦苇草在结了霜的酸球中
   沿着鹿岛飞驰而下:采摘
   浆果。我一整天都在看着陆地向海洋
   崩裂。发生在很久以前,
   而且逝去---什么没有---小块防波堤走向
   它们的私家路,或下沉,牵引着水。
   剩下的不多。透过这扇窗户
   我母亲的罗勒在沙拉里
   淹死,我可以看到我们的果园,香脂
   紧紧围着它们的鸟儿。罗勒因疏忽
   而繁荣。打开我的房间,树。孩子来了。
  
  

  
The Tree House   

   The pail droops on chain, rotten,
   Where the well's been
   Rinsed with bog, as round and round
   The reed-weed rockets down Deer Island
   Amid frosted spheres of acid: berry pick-
   ing. All day long I watched the land break
   Up into the ocean. Happened long ago,
   And lost---what isn’t---bits of jetty go
   Their private ways, or sink, trailing water.
   Little's left. Past this window where
   My mother's basil drowned
   In salad, I can see our orchard, balsams
   Clenched around their birds. The basil flourished on
   Neglect. Open my room, trees. Child's come.
  
  


  
子午线

   (选自 FIRSTBORN (1968) )
   作者:(美)露易丝.格丽克(Louise Glück)
   译者:剑郭琴符

   长岛之声已经
   沉睡:没有风
   沿着水湾
   在昏暗的灯光下
   沙沙作响当,停顿
   在消逝中,两艘星期日的帆船
   在等待它消失,
   瘫痪,或和平,
   无论哪个,被吸干的太阳
   穿过聚集成薄雾的昆虫
   下沉,蚊子
   在泥泞的海洋上荡漾。
  
  

  
Meridian


   Long Island Sound’s
   Asleep: no wind
   Rustles down the inlet
   In the sagging light
   As, stalled at
   Vanishing, two Sunday sailboats
   Wait it out,
   Paralysis, or peace,
   Whichever, and the drained sun
   Sinks through insects coalesced
   To mist, mosquitoes
   Rippling over the muddy ocean.
  
  


  
到佛罗里达

   (选自 FIRSTBORN (1968) )
   作者:(美)露易丝.格丽克(Louise Glück)
   译者:剑郭琴符

   向南飘浮
   在邪恶的小房子上,顺着
   陆地。经过卡罗莱纳州,那里
   花朵开始
   在它们跳动的云层下,它们喂养我们
   冷饮,免费的。我们有我们的选择。
   在下面,季节扭曲,岁月
   滚回金属罐
   像电影,错误出现了,
   按比例,无声。标志
   点亮。过道对面
   一位老人在睡梦中抽搐。他的意志
   迟早会坚定。他的健康状况
   将与他会合在终点站。
  
  

  
To Florida


   Southward floated over
   The vicious little houses, down
   The land. Past Carolina, where
   The bloom began
   Beneath their throbbing clouds, they fed us
   Coldcuts, free. We had our choice.
   Below, the seasons twist; years
   Roll backward toward the can
   Like film, and the mistake appears,
   To scale, soundlessly. The signs
   Light up. Across the aisle
   An old man twitches in his sleep. His mind
   Will firm in time. His health
   Will meet him at the terminal.
  
  


  
奴隶船

   (选自 FIRSTBORN (1968) )
   作者:(美)露易丝.格丽克(Louise Glück)
   译者:剑郭琴符

   先生:在朴茨茅斯附近
   巡游赚钱,我们
   没做得。所有的风
   似乎都与我们的航向相抵触,每天船员们又哀号着
   要新鲜女人的
   肉体或血。没有收获的
   积累;这次有理由恐惧。没有
   其他消息。一个星期前
   我们起诉了一个商人,藏有
   我认识的非洲皇室的人,但他们的皮肤在我的人的眼睛里固定了
   恐惧——他们违背我的意愿骑上她,在乔治亚州的
   黎明时分偷走了她整个
   货舱的黄金并杀死了那批活货。
  

  
The Slave Ship


   Sir: Cruising for profit
   Close to Portsmouth we have not
   Done well. All winds
   Quarrel with our course it seems and daily the crew whines
   For fresh woman-
   flesh or blood again. No gain
   Accumulates; this time I fear with reason. There’s no
   Other news. A week ago
   We charged a trader stocked with Africans
   I knew for royal but their skin fixed terror in my men's
   Eyes---against my will they mounted her and in the slow
   Dawn off Georgia stole her whole
   Hold’s gold and slew that living cargo.

  
  


  
至日

   (选自 FIRSTBORN (1968) )
   作者:(美)露易丝.格丽克(Louise Glück)
   译者:剑郭琴符

   六月的边缘。太阳
   变得和蔼。鸟儿们在纯净的空气的呜咽中打滚,
   从海岸装入木箱…不
   真实。不真实。我看到解药

   在屏幕上溶解。在外面,在猪圈
   打瞌睡,邻居的后代
   吮吸它塞满的怪物,只要
   有时间。现在结局开始:

   包装词。他又咕噜着说他的需要。
   剩下的是空的。被石头砸了,全盲,她蹒跚着到锁
   通过尿布网。这是圣诞节在时钟上
   一年的精确,
   可怕的上升,在冰中达到高潮。
  
  

  
Solstice

   June's edge. The sun
   Turns kind. Birds wallow in the sob of pure air,
   Crated from the coast... Un-
   real. Unreal. I see the cure

   Dissolving on the screen. Outside, dozing
   In its sty, the neighbors' offspring
   Sucks its stuffed monster, given
   Time. And now the end begins:

   Packaged words. He purrs his need again.
   The rest is empty. Stoned, stone-
   blind she totters to the lock
   Through webs of diapers. It is Christmas on the clock

   A year’s precise,
   Terrible ascent, climaxed in ice.
  
  






 楼主| 发表于 2020-10-16 14:40:37 | 显示全部楼层
本帖最后由 剑郭琴符 于 2020-10-16 15:44 编辑


入口

   (选自 FIRSTBORN (1968) )
   作者:(美)露易丝.格丽克(Louise Glück)
   译者:剑郭琴符

   词语抛弃了我。远洋漂流的石头
   返回绿松石色;小动物在杂草的雾霭中
   闪烁,因为这样那样一系列
   荚果在腐烂的葡萄树上发出了完全微妙的嘎嘎声。
   我知道是什么从我的手指滑过。
   在哈特拉斯,石头被泥土浸渍。
   夕阳像牛排的血泄漏,
   沉陷,我的同伴编织他的手指
   穿过我的手指。木洞,
   埃德加敦,雨中的葡萄园,
   不在雨中的葡萄园,冒烟的雨,
   像伍斯特大学的雪,像煤炭国家的
   煤气。草和黄花向我走来,
   马利筋覆盖我,还有芦苇。但这个谜语
   并没有名字:我看见一个失明的婴儿试图
   在母亲头发的卷须中
   固定其拳头,并获得空气。
   空气燃烧,海藻在其水池嘶嘶作响…

   波旁,在地球的边缘旁边,
   在走向死亡的太阳车轮前,
   我梦见我害怕了,通过鸟的
   喧闹,喧闹,和分离莎草的飓风
   进入危险的平静。
   白色的野草,白色波浪的白色
   头皮,溶解在湮灭的光中。
   只有我,沙得拉(1),活得好好地回来了。

   (1)《但以理书》:3.19 当时,尼布甲尼撒怒气填胸,向沙得拉,米煞,亚伯尼歌变了脸色,吩咐人把窑烧热,比寻常更加七倍。
   3:20 又吩咐他军中的几个壮士,将沙得拉,米煞,亚伯尼歌捆起来,扔在烈火的窑中。
   3:21 这三人穿着裤子,内袍,外衣,和别的衣服,被捆起来扔在烈火的窑中。
   (呵呵,结果没烧死他们)。



The Inlet  


   Words fail me. The ocean traveling stone
   Returns turquoise; small animals twinkle in a haze
   Of weed as this or that sequence
   Of pod rattles with complete delicacy on the rotten vine.
   I know what's slipping through my fingers.
   In Hatteras the stones were oiled with mud.
   The sunset leaked like steak blood,
   Sank, and my companion weaved his fingers
   Through my fingers. Wood's Hole,
   Edgartown, the Vineyard in the rain,
   The Vineyard not in the rain, the rain
   Fuming like snow in Worcester, like gas in the coal
   Country. Grass and goldenrod come to me,
   Milkweed covers me over, and reed. But this riddle
   Has no name: I saw a blind baby try
   To fix its fists in tendrils
   Of its mother's hair, and get air.
   The air burns,The seaweed hisses in its cistern ...

   Waveside, beside earth's edge,
   Before the toward-death cartwheel of the sun,
   I dreamed I was afraid and through the din
   Of birds, the din, the hurricane of parting sedge
   Came to the danger lull.
   The white weeds, white waves' white
   Scalps dissolve in the obliterating light.
   And only I, Shadrach, come back alive and well.




农神节

   (选自 FIRSTBORN (1968) )
   作者:(美)露易丝.格丽克(Louise Glück)
   译者:剑郭琴符

   一年过去了。狼收回了她的乳头
   当战争在帝国吞噬
   路过这蜡像,这座永恒的城市时。
   我们已经有了我们的循环。上议院的崛起
   不是罗马的:现在,北方的一些微不足道的
   维辛格托里克斯磨尖他的意志。一颗明星
   出生。凯撒
   他在参议院上方的栖木上打鼾。

   这是历史。冰堵塞了管道,我的朋友,
   我醒来结霜
   在大理石上,以及这里,男人们拿来作为预兆的
   一丝寒意。神话收缩。一切为了安慰
   而铸造,逃避他们的工作祷告,
   自满于判判。判决失败。一年,
   二十---我们输了。这个月宴会开始。
   象征性的奴隶们吸吮我们提供的那些滴水家禽,
   以确保繁荣。



Saturnalia


   The year turns. The wolf takes back her tit
   As war eats at the empire
   Past this waxworks, the eternal city.
   We have had our round. What
   Lords rise are not of Rome: now northward some two-bit
   Vercingetorix sharpens his will. A star
   Is born.Caesar
   Snores on his perch above the Senate.

   This is history. Ice clogs the ducts; my friend,
   I wake to frost
   On marble and a chill men take for omen
   Here. The myth contracts. All cast
   For comfort, shun their works to pray,
   Preening for Judgment. Judgment fails. One year,
   Twenty---we are lost. This month the feasts begin.
   Token slaves suck those dripping fowl we offer
   To insure prosperity.




沼泽上的房子(1975)

   带着爱和感激
   凯伦.肯尼利
   汤姆.吉尔森
   埃伦.布莱恩特.沃格特

   万圣节


万圣节

   (选自 THE HOUSE ON MARSHLAND (1975) )
   作者:(美)露易丝.格丽克(Louise Glück)
   译者:剑郭琴符



   即使现在,这片风景也在聚集。
   群山变暗。牛
   在蓝色的轭上睡觉,
   田野已被
   采摘干净,谷个子
   均匀地捆着,堆在路边
   在五叶草中间,如有齿的月亮升起:

   这是收获
   或瘟疫的荒芜。
   妻子斜靠在窗户里
   伸出她的手,像是在付款,
   种子
   独特,金色,喊着
   来这里
   来这里,小家伙

   和灵魂从树上爬出来。




THE HOUSE ON MARSHLAND (1975)
   
   WITH LOVE AND GRATITUDE
   KAREN KENNERLY
   TOM GILSON
   ELLEN BRYANTT VOIGT
   
   I ALL HALLOWS
   

   All Hallows   
   
   
   
   Even now this landscape is assembling.
   The hills darken. The oxen
   sleep in their blue yoke,
   the fields having been
   picked clean, the sheaves
   bound evenly and piled at the roadside
   among cinquefoil, as the toothed moon rises:
   
   This is the barrenness
   of harvest or pestilence.
   And the wife leaning out the window
   with her hand extended, as in payment,
   and the seeds
   distinct, gold, calling
   Come here
   Come here, little one
   
   And the soul creeps out of the tree.


池塘

   (选自 THE HOUSE ON MARSHLAND (1975) )
   作者:(美)露易丝.格丽克(Louise Glück)
   译者:剑郭琴符

   黑夜用翅膀覆盖池塘。
   在这环状的月亮下,我能看出
   你的脸在小鱼和回响的小星中
   游动。在夜间的空气中
   池塘的表面是金属的。

   在里面,你的眼睛是睁开的。它们包含
   我所认识的记忆,就像
   我们曾经是一起的孩子。我们的小马
   在山上吃草,它们是灰色的
   有白色的标记。现在它们与死人
   一同吃草,他们像
   孩童,在花岗岩胸甲下等候,透明而无助

   山离得很远。它们升起
   比童年更黑。
   你在想什么,静静地
   躺在水边?当你那样看的时候,我想
   接触你,但不要,就像看见
   在另一个生命里我们有同样的血缘。



The Pond


   Night covers the pond with its wing.
   Under the ringed moon I can make out
   your face swimming among minnows and the small
   echoing stars. In the night air
   the surface of the pond is metal.

   Within, your eyes are open. They contain
   a memory I recognize, as though
   we had been children together. Our ponies
   grazed on the hill, they were gray
   with white markings. Now they graze
   with the dead who wait
   like children under their granite breastplates,
   lucid and helpless:

   The hills are far away. They rise up
   blacker than childhood.
   What do you think of, lying so quietly
   by the water? When you look that way I want
   to touch you, but do not, seeing
   as in another life we were of the same blood.




黑暗中的格雷特

   (选自 THE HOUSE ON MARSHLAND (1975) )
   作者:(美)露易丝.格丽克(Louise Glück)
   译者:剑郭琴符

   这就是我们想要的世界。
   所有看到我们死的人
   都死了。我听到女巫的哭声
   在月光下透过一片糖
   发出:上帝的奖赏。
   她的舌头萎缩成气体…

   现在,远离了女人的胳膊
   和女人的记忆,在父亲的小屋
   我们睡觉,从不饿。
   为什么我没忘记?
   我父亲堵上门,堵上这房子的
   伤害,已经好几年了。

   没人记得。即使你,我的兄弟,
   夏天的下午你看着我,好像
   你要离开,
   好像从来没有发生过。
   但我为你杀人。我看见武装的冷杉,
   那闪闪发光的窑尖---

   夜晚,我求助于你抱住我
   但你不在那里。
   我孤独吗?间谍们
   在寂静中嘶嘶作响,汉斯,
   我们还在那里,是真的,真的,
   那黑森林和诚挚的火。



Gretel in Darkness


   This is the world we wanted.
   All who would have seen us dead
   are dead. I hear the witch's cry
   break in the moonlight through a sheet
   of sugar: God rewards.
   Her tongue shrivels into gas ...

   Now, far from women's arms
   and memory of women, in our father's hut
   we sleep, are never hungry.
   Why do I not forget?
   My father bars the door, bars harm
   from this house, and it is years.

   No one remembers. Even you, my brother,
   summer afternoons you look at me as though
   you meant to leave,
   as though it never happened.
   But I killed for you. I see armed firs,
   the spires of that gleaming kiln---

   Nights I turn to you to hold me
   but you are not there.
   Am I alone? Spies
   hiss in the stillness, Hansel,
   we are there still and it is real, real,
   that black forest and the fire in earnest.




为我妈妈

   (选自 THE HOUSE ON MARSHLAND (1975) )
   作者:(美)露易丝.格丽克(Louise Glück)
   译者:剑郭琴符

   当我们一起在一个躯体里
   会更好。
   三十年。通过
   你眼睛的绿色玻璃
   隔开,月光
   滤入我的骨头。
   当我们躺在
   大床上,黑暗中,
   等待我父亲。
   三十年。他用
   两个吻,关闭你的
   眼睑。然后春天
   来了,收回我
   未出生的
   绝对知识,
   留下你站着的
   砖砌门廊,遮住了
   你的眼睛,但是现在是
   夜晚,月亮
   停在山毛榉树上,
   又圆又白,在
   星星的小锡记号中间:
   三十年。房子周围
   长出一片沼泽。
   成群的孢子
   在树荫下循环,飘过
   拍动翅膀的植物纱布。



For My Mother


   It was better when we were
   together in one body.
   Thirty years. Screened
   through the green glass
   of your eye, moonlight
   filtered into my bones
   as we lay
   in the big bed, in the dark,
   waiting for my father.
   Thirty years. He closed
   your eyelids with
   two kisses. And then spring
   came and withdrew from me
   the absolute
   knowledge of the unborn,
   leaving the brick stoop
   where you stand, shading
   your eyes, but it is
   night, the moon
   is stationed in the beech tree,
   round and white among
   the small tin markers of the stars:
   Thirty years. A marsh
   grows up around the house.
   Schools of spores circulate
   behind the shades, drift through
   gauze flutterings of vegetation.




列岛

   (选自THE HOUSE ON MARSHLAND (1975) )
   作者:(美)露易丝.格丽克(Louise Glück)
   译者:剑郭琴符

   第十年,我们碰到巨大的阳光,一片岛屿的浮雕
   被锁进水。这成了我们的课程。
   十一个月我们漂流着,朝着第十二个
   漂流入温顺的海洋,一个港湾。我们为和平做准备。
   几周过去。然后船长看到
   定义了我们港口的入口关闭了---我们被
   吞噬。其他声音在骚动。水
   嘲笑我们的船,我们收缩的数字
   在两个资料袋运行:疯狂和自杀。第十二年
   船长叫他的名字,它没有意义,船员
   尖叫到极点。



Archipelago

   The tenth year we came upon immense sunlight, a relief
   of islands locked into the water. These became our course.
   Eleven months we drifted, toward the twelfth
   wandered into docile ocean, a harbor. We prepared for peace.
   Weeks passed. And then the captain saw
   the mouth closing that defined our port---we are
   devoured. Other voices stir. Water
   sneers against our ship, our shrunk number runs
   in two packs: madness and suicide. The twelfth year
   the captain calls his name, it has no meaning, and the crew
   shrieks in its extremity.



  
博士(1)

   (选自THE HOUSE ON MARSHLAND (1975) )
   作者:(美)露易丝.格丽克(Louise Glück)
   译者:剑郭琴符

   朝着世界尽头,穿过冬天
   赤裸的开始,他们又开始旅行。
   多少个冬天,我们目睹这一切发生,
   看着同样的迹象出现,当他们经过
   这条道路周围的城市时,他们
   在沙漠上刻上他们的黄金,却
   保持我们的平静,这些
   聪明的人,在习惯的时间来看
   一切都没有改变:屋顶,黑暗中
   燃烧的谷仓,他们希望看到的一切。

   (1) Magi:n.(带礼物朝拜耶稣圣婴的)东方三博士。
   《新约--马太福音(Matthew)》载:
   2:1 当希律王的时候,耶稣生在犹太的伯利恒。有几个博士从东方来到耶路撒冷,说,
   Now when Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judaea in the days of Herod the king, behold, there came wise men from the east to Jerusalem,
   2:2 那生下来作犹太人之王的在那里。我们在东方看见他的星,特来拜他。
   Saying, Where is he that is born King of the Jews? for we have seen his star in the east, and are come to worship him.
  
  

  
The Magi   


   Toward world's end, through the bare
   beginnings of winter, they are traveling again.
   How many winters have we seen it happen,
   watched the same sign come forward as they pass
   cities sprung around this route their gold
   engraved on the desert, and yet
   held our peace, these
   being the Wise, come to see at the accustomed hour
   nothing changed: roofs, the barn
   blazing in darkness, all they wish to see.
  
  

 楼主| 发表于 2020-10-17 18:08:19 | 显示全部楼层


花楸树
   ---为汤姆
   
   (选自THE HOUSE ON MARSHLAND (1975) )
   作者:(美)露易丝.格丽克(Louise Glück)
   译者:剑郭琴符
   
   
   1.树
   
   一切都在这里,
   发光的水,印着匹配的
   树苗,一枝接一枝,
   延长了
   镜头中那棵树,如同它
   紧靠着绿色、有毒的风景。
   
   2.潜影
   
   有一年,他把注意力集中在一棵树上
   直到后来,透过从未如此纯净的阳光,他看到
   这个季节,早春,在这些枝干上绽放着
   它的白花,其眼睛
   保留:在大脑深处
   花楸树创造它的叶子,在这一背景下,
   在纪念碑之间,连续不断地出现冰冻的形状
   变成了经过训练的藤蔓、
   树根、岩石,一切都死灭。
The Shad-blow Tree
   ---for Tom  
   
   1.The Tree
   
   It is all here,
   luminous water, the imprinted sapling
   matched, branch by branch,
   to the lengthened
   tree in the lens, as it was
   against the green, poisoned landscape.
   
   2.The Latent Image
   
   One year he focused on a tree
   until, through sunlight pure as never afterward, he saw
   the season, early spring, work upon those limbs
   its white flower, which the eye
   retains: deep in the brain
   the shad-blow coins its leaf in this context,
   among monuments, continuous with such frozen forms
   as have become the trained vine,
   root, rock, and all things perishing.

信使
   
   (选自THE HOUSE ON MARSHLAND (1975) )
   作者:(美)露易丝.格丽克(Louise Glück)
   译者:剑郭琴符
   
   你只要等一等,他们就会找到你。
   鹅在沼泽地上低飞,
   闪烁在黑水里。
   他们找到你。
   那鹿---
   它们多么美丽,
   仿佛它们的身体没有妨碍它们。
   它们慢慢公开地漂流
   穿过阳光的铜色面板。
   
   为什么它们会如此平静地站着
   如果他们没有等待?
   几乎一动不动,直到它们的笼子生锈,
   灌木丛在风中颤抖,
   蹲着,没有叶子。
   
   你只需要让它发生:
   喊叫---释放,释放---如月亮
   挣脱大地,在
   箭的圆中满满升起
   
   直到他们像死的东西
   来到你面前,背负着肉,
   而你在他们之上,受伤,处于支配地位。
Messengers
   
   
   
   You have only to wait, they will find you.
   The geese flying low over the marsh,
   glittering in black water.
   They find you.
   And the deer---
   how beautiful they are,
   as though their bodies did not impede them.
   Slowly they drift into the open
   through bronze panels of sunlight.
   
   Why would they stand so still
   if they were not waiting?
   Almost motionless, until their cages rust,
   the shrubs shiver in the wind,
   squat and leafless.
   
   You have only to let it happen:
   that cry---release, release---like the moon
   wrenched out of earth and rising
   full in its circle of arrows
   
   until they come before you
   like dead things, saddled with flesh,
   and you above them, wounded and dominant.

女凶手
   
   (选自THE HOUSE ON MARSHLAND (1975) )
   作者:(美)露易丝.格丽克(Louise Glück)
   译者:剑郭琴符
   
   你叫我神智正常,精神错乱---—我告诉你,男人们
   在色迷迷地看自己;她看到了。
   她是我女儿。她会削去
   她的裙子,直到大腿
   变长,直到裂开的舌头滑进她的大脑。
   他有她的味道。恐惧
   会抑制美,但她没有恐惧。她说话
   模棱两可,她把
   自己的热量借给地狱:总裁,太阳
   在第十五天开放,耗费圣母。
   就像在切鱼。然后污点
   溶解,上帝掌管着她的身体。
The Murderess   
   
   
   You call me sane, insane---I tell you men
   were leering to themselves; she saw.
   She was my daughter. She would pare
   her skirt until her thighs grew
   longer, till the split tongue slid into her brain.
   He had her smell. Fear
   will check beauty, but she had no fear. She talked
   doubletalk, she lent
   her heat to Hell's: Commissioner, the sun
   opens to consume the Virgin on the fifteenth day.
   It was like slitting fish. And then the stain
   dissolved, and God presided at her body.

榆叶梅
   
   (选自THE HOUSE ON MARSHLAND (1975) )
   作者:(美)露易丝.格丽克(Louise Glück)
   译者:剑郭琴符
   
   春天,从榆叶梅树的黑色树枝上
   画眉鸟发出了它残存的
   例行信息。当邻居们的女儿读进那歌唱,
   和比赛,如此幸福
   从何而来?整个下午,她都坐在
   梅树的局部阴凉处,温柔的风
   把她洁白无瑕的腿淹没在花中,青白色
   和白色,不留痕迹,不像
   写下解释在大风中,
   在夏天的黑暗污点的果实。
Flowering Plum   
   
   
   In spring from the black branches of the flowering plum tree
   the woodthrush issues its routine
   message of survival. Where does such happiness come from
   as the neighbors' daughter reads into that singing,
   and matches? All afternoon she sits
   in the partial shade of the plum tree, as the mild wind
   floods her immaculate lap with blossoms, greenish white
   and white, leaving no mark, unlike
   the fruit that will inscribe
   unraveling dark stains in heavier winds, in summer.

圣诞诗
   
   (选自THE HOUSE ON MARSHLAND (1975) )
   作者:(美)露易丝.格丽克(Louise Glück)
   译者:剑郭琴符
   
   这是神
   诞生的夜晚。
   歌唱和
   带着金乐器的
   天使迫近
   在谷仓上方,他们的翅膀
   既没有白色的
   蜡,也没有大理石。于是
   他们被记录:光亮,
   逐字逐句,在平静的空气中,
   他们举起竖琴,在
   同样聚集的野兽头顶,
   羔羊和所有受惊的
   丝鸡…约瑟,
   转到一边,摸了摸
   他的脸颊,意思是
   他在哭泣---
   
   但他多么小,从母亲
   生命的空洞中撤离,
   那生肉包裹
   在亚麻布中,如同星星发出
   光,愉悦他
   没有装饰的感觉。
Nativity Poem
   
   It is the evening
   of the birth of god.
   Singing &
   with gold instruments
   the angels bear down
   upon the barn, their wings
   neither white
   wax nor marble. So
   they have been recorded: burnished,
   literal in the composed air,
   they raise their harps above
   the beasts likewise gathering,
   the lambs & all the startled
   silken chickens ... And Joseph,
   off to one side, has touched
   his cheek, meaning
   he is weeping---
   
   But how small he is, withdrawn
   from the hollow of his mother’s life,
   the raw flesh bound
   in linen as the stars yield
   light to delight his sense
   for whom there is no ornament.

致秋天
   ---为基思.阿尔特豪斯
   
   (选自THE HOUSE ON MARSHLAND (1975) )
   作者:(美)露易丝.格丽克(Louise Glück)
   译者:剑郭琴符
   
   晨曦在荆棘间颤动;在发芽的雪花莲上
   沾满露水,像小处女,杜鹃花丛
   吐出第一片叶子,又是春天。
   柳树等待轮到它,海岸
   涂有一层模糊的绿色绒毛,期待着
   塑造。只有我
   不合作,早就
   开花了。我不再年轻。
   怎么了?夏天靠近,秋天的
   漫长衰败的日子我应该开始
   中年时期的伟大诗歌。
To Autumn
   —for Keith Althaus
   
   
   
   Morning quivers in the thorns; above the budded snowdrops
   caked with dew like little virgins, the azalea bush
   ejects its first leaves, and it is spring again.
   The willow waits its turn, the coast
   is coated with a faint green fuzz, anticipating
   mold. Only I
   do not collaborate, having
   flowered earlier. I am no longer young. What
   of it? Summer approaches, and the long
   decaying days of autumn when I shall begin
   the great poems of my middle period.

静物
   
   (选自THE HOUSE ON MARSHLAND (1975) )
   作者:(美)露易丝.格丽克(Louise Glück)
   译者:剑郭琴符
   
   父亲搂着泰瑞兹。
   她眯起眼睛。我的大拇指
   在我嘴里:我的第五个秋天。
   在紫叶山毛榉附近
   猎犬在阴影中打盹。
   我们中没人不移开他的眼睛。
   
   在草坪对面,阳光明媚,我母亲
   站在她的相机后面。
Still Life
   
   
   Father has his arm around Tereze.
   She squints. My thumb
   is in my mouth: my fifth autumn.
   Near the copper beech
   the spaniel dozes in shadows.
   Not one of us does not avert his eyes.
   
   Across the lawn, in full sun, my mother
   stands behind her camera.

献给简.迈尔斯
   
   (选自THE HOUSE ON MARSHLAND (1975) )
   作者:(美)露易丝.格丽克(Louise Glück)
   译者:剑郭琴符
   
   汁液从湿透的水沟里升起
   把两只绿耳朵粘在枯死的
   桦树枝上。危险的美——
   简已经挖出
   她的彩色网球鞋,
   一只淡紫色,一只黄色,像大番红花。
   
   在洗衣店旁边
   巴特利们在他们整洁的院子---
   
   仿佛没有
   疲倦,疲倦于
   
   听到灌木丛中
   微风和煦的唠叨,
   水仙花聚集,鸣叫——
   
   看看蓝色的花是怎么散开的,泥土
   装着种子。
   几个月,几年,然后是沉闷的风叶。
   春天到了!我们将死!
   
   现在,四月举起她的花匾
   心
   扩展到承认她的对手。
For Jane Myers   
   
   Sap rises from the sodden ditch
   and glues two green ears to the dead
   birch twig. Perilous beauty---
   and already Jane is digging out
   her colored tennis shoes,
   one mauve, one yellow, like large crocuses.
   
   And by the laundromat
   the Bartletts in their tidy yard---
   
   as though it were not
   wearying, wearying
   
   to hear in the bushes
   the mild harping of the breeze,
   the daffodils flocking and honking---
   
   Look how the bluet falls apart, mud
   pockets the seed.
   Months, years, then the dull blade of the wind.
   It is spring! We are going to die!
   
   And now April raises up her plaque of flowers
   and the heart
   expands to admit its adversary.

 楼主| 发表于 2020-10-17 18:10:36 | 显示全部楼层
本帖最后由 剑郭琴符 于 2020-10-17 23:59 编辑



感恩
   
   (选自THE HOUSE ON MARSHLAND (1975) )
   作者:(美)露易丝.格丽克(Louise Glück)
   译者:剑郭琴符
   
   别以为我不感激你对我的小恩惠。
   我喜欢小恩小惠。
   事实上,我其实更喜欢它们,而不是
   更实质性的仁慈,那就是总是盯着你,
   就像一只大动物在地毯上,
   直到你的整个生命都
   化为乌有,但一个又一个早晨醒来
   密密麻麻,灿烂的阳光照在它的獠牙上。
Gratitude   
   
   
   Do not think I am not grateful for your small kindness to me.
   I like small kindnesses.
   In fact I actually prefer them to the more
   substantial kindness, that is always eyeing you,
   like a large animal on a rug,
   until your whole life reduces
   to nothing but waking up morning after morning
   cramped, and the bright sun shining on its tusks.

学校的孩子们
   
   (选自THE HOUSE ON MARSHLAND (1975) )
   作者:(美)露易丝.格丽克(Louise Glück)
   译者:剑郭琴符
   
   孩子们提着小书包往前走。
   整个上午,母亲们都在费力地
   收集迟来的苹果,红的和金的,
   就像另一种语言的文字。
   
   在对岸
   是那些在大桌子后面等着
   接受祭品的人。
   
   他们多么有秩序---钉子上
   孩子们挂着
   他们蓝色或黄色羊毛大衣。
   
   老师们应该默默地教导他们
   母亲们应该冲洗果园出去的路,
   用果树忍受这么少弹药的
   灰色枝条吸引他们。
The School Children
   
   
   The children go forward with their little satchels.
   And all morning the mothers have labored
   to gather the late apples, red and gold,
   like words of another language.
   
   And on the other shore
   are those who wait behind great desks
   to receive these offerings.
   
   How orderly they are---the nails
   on which the children hang
   their overcoats of blue or yellow wool.
   
   And the teachers shall instruct them in silence
   and the mothers shall scour the orchards for a way out,
   drawing to themselves the gray limbs of the fruit trees
   bearing so little ammunition.

圣女贞德
   
   (选自THE HOUSE ON MARSHLAND (1975) )
   作者:(美)露易丝.格丽克(Louise Glück)
   译者:剑郭琴符
   
   它在田野里。树木静静地生长,
   一道光从树叶中穿过,诉说着
   基督的大恩典:我听见了。
   我的身体坚硬成盔甲。
   
   自从卫兵
   把我交给黑暗之后,我一直在向上帝祈祷
   现在他们的声音回答说,我必须
   变成火,为了上帝的目的,
   吩咐我跪下
   祝福我的国王,感谢
   我欠他生命的敌人。
Jeanne d’Arc
   
   
   It was in the fields. The trees grew still,
   a light passed through the leaves speaking
   of Christ’s great grace: I heard.
   My body hardened into armor.
   
   Since the guards
   gave me over to darkness I have prayed to God
   and now the voices answer I must be
   transformed to fire, for God's purpose,
   and have bid me kneel
   to bless my King, and thank
   the enemy to whom I owe my life.

双子座
   
   (选自THE HOUSE ON MARSHLAND (1975) )
   作者:(美)露易丝.格丽克(Louise Glück)
   译者:剑郭琴符
   
   
   在我中有一个灵魂
   它要求
   被给予它的身体
   
   它要求
   被给予蓝色的眼睛
   一只骷髅
   
   被黑色头发缠住
   其形状
   已经形成并分离
   
   所以过去长出
   一幢充满
   紫菀和白色丁香花的房子
   
   一个
   穿着棉衣的孩子
   草坪,铜山毛榉---
   
   我自己的生命
   我如此这般摆脱---阳光
   剥落在窗帘
   
   和柳条椅上
   裸露着,冬天接着冬天,
   就像星辰最后
   
   变厚并且如雪下降
Gemini
   
   There is a soul in me
   It is asking
   to be given its body
   
   It is asking
   to be given blue eyes
   a skull matted
   
   with black hair
   that shape
   already formed & detaching
   
   So the past put forth
   a house filled with
   asters & white lilac
   
   a child
   in her cotton dress
   the lawn, the copper beech---
   
   such of my own lives
   I have cast off---the sunlight
   chipping at the curtains
   
   & the wicker chairs
   uncovered, winter after winter,
   as the stars finally
   
   thicken & descend as snow
  

   
   (选自THE HOUSE ON MARSHLAND (1975) )
   作者:(美)露易丝.格丽克(Louise Glück)
   译者:剑郭琴符
   
   傍晚时分,和现在一样,一个男人正弯腰
   躺在写字台上。
   他慢慢抬起头,一个女人
   出现,拿着玫瑰。
   她的脸浮在镜子的表面,
   标有玫瑰茎的绿色辐条。
   
   这是一种
   痛苦的形式:然后透明的纸总是
   升到窗口,直到它的静脉出现
   就像最后变成充满墨水的文字。
   
   我的意思是要明白
   是什么把它们绑在一起
   或是在黄昏被牢牢固定在那里的灰色房子
   
   因为我必须进入他们的生命:
   春天到了,梨树
   拍摄着微弱,白色的花。
Poem
   
   
   In the early evening, as now, a man is bending
   over his writing table.
   Slowly he lifts his head; a woman
   appears, carrying roses.
   Her face floats to the surface of the mirror,
   marked with the green spokes of rose stems.
   
   It is a form
   of suffering: then always the transparent page
   raised to the window until its veins emerge
   as words finally filled with ink.
   
   And I am meant to understand
   what binds them together
   or to the gray house held firmly in place by dusk
   
   because I must enter their lives:
   it is spring, the pear tree
   filming with weak, white blossoms.

启程
   
   (选自THE HOUSE ON MARSHLAND (1975) )
   作者:(美)露易丝.格丽克(Louise Glück)
   译者:剑郭琴符
   
   我父亲站在铁路月台。
   他眼里泪如泉涌,仿佛窗中
   闪烁的那张脸就是他曾经是的
   某人的脸。但另一个却忘了,
   当我父亲注视,他转过身去,
   在他脸上画上阴影,
   回去看书。
   
   已经在深沟里
   火车带着灰烬的气息等待着。
Departure
   
   
   My father is standing on a railroad platform.
   Tears pool in his eyes, as though the face
   glimmering in the window were the face of someone
   he was once. But the other has forgotten;
   as my father watches, he turns away,
   drawing the shade over his face,
   goes back to his reading.
   
   And already in its deep groove
   the train is waiting with its breath of ashes.

 楼主| 发表于 2020-10-18 12:32:49 | 显示全部楼层
本帖最后由 剑郭琴符 于 2020-10-18 12:38 编辑


事业
   
   (选自THE HOUSE ON MARSHLAND (1975) )
   作者:(美)露易丝.格丽克(Louise Glück)
   译者:剑郭琴符
   
   二、苹果树
   
   事业
   
   黑暗升起,想象,在你有生之年。
   你在那里---被包裹在干净的树皮里,你漂流
   穿过编织的灯心草,田野被淹没在棉花中。
   你自由了。河用百合花拍电影,
   灌木出现,嫩枝粗成棕榈。现在
   所有恐惧让路:光
   照看你,你能感受到波浪的善意
   当双臂在水面上张开;爱,
   
   关键词转身。扩展你自己---
   这是尼罗河,阳光灿烂,
   无论你走到哪里都是幸运。
   
II THE APPLE TREES
   
   The Undertaking  
   
   
   
   The darkness lifts, imagine, in your lifetime.
   There you are---cased in clean bark you drift
   through weaving rushes, fields flooded with cotton.
   You are free. The river films with lilies,
   shrubs appear, shoots thicken into palm. And now
   all fear gives way: the light
   looks after you, you feel the waves' goodwill
   as arms widen over the water; Love,
   
   the key is turned. Extend yourself---
   it is the Nile, the sun is shining,
   everywhere you turn is luck.

石榴
   
   (选自THE HOUSE ON MARSHLAND (1975) )
   作者:(美)露易丝.格丽克(Louise Glück)
   译者:剑郭琴符
   
   首先他把他的心
   给了我。它是
   红色的水果,包含
   很多种子,表皮
   坚韧,不太可能。
   我宁愿
   挨饿,接受
   我的训练。
   然后他说看看
   这个世界是怎样的,想起
   你妈妈。我
   在他的胳膊下偷看:
   她对颜色和气味
   做了什么?
   于是他说,没有
   一个女人热爱
   复仇,再加上
   考虑到她是她的元素:
   树木转向她,整个
   村庄都沉浮着
   尽管在地狱
   灌木丛仍然
   燃烧着石榴。
   就在那里
   他割开一个并且开始
   吮吸。当他终于抬起头来
   它将说我亲爱的
   你是你自己的
   女人,终于,但考察
   你母亲在我们头上
   展示的悲伤
   记住
   她是一个
   这些深度没有被提供的人。
Pomegranate
   
   
   First he gave me
   his heart. It was
   red fruit containing
   many seeds, the skin
   leathery, unlikely.
   I preferred
   to starve, bearing
   out my training.
   Then he said Behold
   how the world looks, minding
   your mother. I
   peered under his arm:
   What had she done
   with color & odor?
   Whereupon he said Nowhere
   is a woman who loves
   with a vengeance, adding
   Consider she is in her element:
   the trees turning to her, whole
   villages going under
   although in hell
   the bushes are still
   burning with pomegranates.
   At which
   he cut one open & began
   to suck. When he looked up at last
   it was to say My dear
   you are your own
   woman, finally, but examine
   this grief your mother
   parades over our heads
   remembering
   that she is one to whom
   these depths were not offered.

燃烧的爱
   -1904年
   
   (选自THE HOUSE ON MARSHLAND (1975) )
   作者:(美)露易丝.格丽克(Louise Glück)
   译者:剑郭琴符
   
   最亲爱的爱:玫瑰又盛开了,
   奶油和玫瑰,到砖路的两边。
   我带着我的白色雨伞通过它们中间
   当阳光打在椭圆土地像池塘
   在草地上,(打在)柳树和雕像的
   小树林。于是日子流逝。晴朗的日子里
   我在半弯的榆树下
   喝茶,仿佛你在我身边,说着
   能让你屏息凝神的鲜花…
   托盘上总是
   一朵玫瑰,阳光总是照在河面上
   男人们穿着夏装,穿着亚麻布,还有女孩们
   她们的裙子在阴影中盘旋…昨晚
   我梦见你没有回来。
   今天晴朗。小女仆在我床边放了一只
   天鹅形有玫瑰的银碗,
   还有他们称之为燃烧的爱的深红色,
   我发现它这么美。
Brennende Liebe
   —1904
   
   
   
   
   Dearest love: The roses are in bloom again,
   cream and rose, to either side of the brick walk.
   I pass among them with my white umbrella
   as the sun beats down upon the oval plots like pools
   in the grass, willows and the grove
   of statuary. So the days go by. Fine days
   I take my tea beneath the elm
   half turned, as though you were beside me saying
   Flowers that could take your breath away ...
   And always on the tray
   a rose, and always the sun branded on the river
   and the men in summer suits, in linen, and the girls,
   their skirts circled in shadow... Last night
   I dreamed that you did not return.
   Today is fair. The little maid filled a silver bowl
   shaped like a swan with roses for my bedside,
   with the dark red they call Brennende Liebe,
   which I find so beautiful.
   

亚比煞(1)
   
   (选自THE HOUSE ON MARSHLAND (1975) )
   作者:(美)露易丝.格丽克(Louise Glück)
   译者:剑郭琴符
   
   1.
   
   大卫的亲属抛出神的话
   在整个迦南:
   你们都明白
   国王快要死了
   他们
   直截了当地说
   所以我父转向我说
   我曾请求你多少
   但我什么也没
   回答
   如我所记
   
   于是太阳从他的肩膀升起:
   蓝色的天空,沙漠,一个
   发黄的小村庄
   
   当我看到自己
   它仍然和我当时一样,
   在井旁,凝视着
   填充一半水的
   空心葫芦,那里记录着黑辫子
   在左肩上放牧
   尽管脸上
   有他们没说的
   平凡
   她看起来像一个寻求
   某些更大和毁灭激情的人:
   
   他们把我当成了我所是。
   亲属中没有一个人碰过我,
   奴隶中没有一人。
   现在没人会碰我。
   
   2.
   
   在反复出现的梦中,我父亲
   穿着黑色法衣站在门口
   告诉我在我的求婚者中
   做出选择,他们每人
   都会说出我的名字一次
   直到我举手示意。
   在我父亲的臂上,我倾听
   不是三种声音:亚比煞,
   而是两种:我的爱——
   
   我告诉你,如果是我自己的意志
   束缚着我,我就无法得救。
   然而在梦中,在石头房子的
   半光下,他们看起来
   那么相似。有时我觉得
   声音和他们自己
   完全相同,我举起手来
   主要是因为疲倦。我听到我父亲说
   选择,选择。但他们不一样
   而且选择死亡,啊是的,我可以
   相信我的身体。
   -----
   (1)《旧约-列王记上》:
   1:1 大卫王年纪老迈,虽用被遮盖,仍不觉暖。
   1:2 所以臣仆对他说,不如为我主我王寻梢一个处女,使她伺候王,奉养王,睡在王的怀中,好叫我主我王得暖。
   1:3 于是在以色列全境寻求美貌的童女,寻得书念的一个童女亚比煞,就带到王那里。
   So they sought for a fair damsel throughout all the coasts of Israel, and found Abishag a Shunammite, and brought her to the king.
   1:4 这童女极其美貌,她奉养王,伺候王,王却没有与她亲近。
Abishag   
   
   1.
   
   At God’s word David’s kinsmen cast
   through Canaan:
   It was understood
   the king was dying
   as they said
   outright
   so that my father turned to me saying
   How much have I ever asked of you
   to which I answered
   Nothing
   as I remembered
   
   So the sun rose from his shoulders:
   blue air, the desert, the small
   yellowing village
   
   When I see myself
   it is still as I was then,
   beside the well, staring
   into the hollowed gourd half filled
   with water, where the dark braid
   grazing the left shoulder was recorded
   though the face
   was featureless
   of which they did not say
   She has the look of one who seeks
   some greater and destroying passion:
   
   They took me as I was.
   Not one among the kinsmen touched me,
   not one among the slaves.
   No one will touch me now.
   
   2.
   
   In the recurring dream my father
   stands at the doorway in his black cassock
   telling me to choose
   among my suitors, each of whom
   will speak my name once
   until I lift my hand in signal.
   On my father’s arm I listen
   for not three sounds: Abishag,
   but two: my love---
   
   I tell you if it is my own will
   binding me I cannot be saved.
   And yet in the dream, in the half-light
   of the stone house, they looked
   so much alike. Sometimes I think
   the voices were themselves
   identical, and that I raised my hand
   chiefly in weariness. I hear my father saying
   Choose, choose. But they were not alike
   and to select death, O yes I can
   believe that of my body.


 楼主| 发表于 2020-10-18 12:34:06 | 显示全部楼层


1971年12月6日
   
   (选自THE HOUSE ON MARSHLAND (1975) )
   作者:(美)露易丝.格丽克(Louise Glück)
   译者:剑郭琴符
   
   你从我转身
   我梦见我们
   在两座山之间的一个池塘边
   那是一个夜晚
   月亮在它的眼窝抽动
   那里云杉变薄
   三只鹿醒来并打破覆盖物
   我听到我的名字
   不是说,而是大声喊叫
   于是我伸手去够你
   除了床单是冰
   当他们为我而来
   他们,一个接一个,一致
   被引进给黑暗
   雪
   从一开始就
   没有停止过
12.6.71
   
   
   You having turned from me
   I dreamed we were
   beside a pond between two mountains
   It was night
   The moon throbbed in its socket
   Where the spruces thinned
   three deer wakened & broke cover
   and I heard my name
   not spoken but cried out
   so that I reached for you
   except the sheet was ice
   as they had come for me
   who, one by one, were likewise
   introduced to darkness
   And the snow
   which has not ceased since
   began

爱的诗篇
   
   (选自THE HOUSE ON MARSHLAND (1975) )
   作者:(美)露易丝.格丽克(Louise Glück)
   译者:剑郭琴符
   
   总是有某些东西由痛苦组成。
   你妈妈织毛衣。
   结果她证明围巾在红色的每道阴影中。
   它们是圣诞节的礼物,它们让你保持温暖
   在她一次又一次结婚的时候,带着你
   一起。这怎么可能,
   这么多年她把那颗守寡的心藏起来
   仿佛死人又回来了。
   怪不得你是你之为你的样子,
   怕血,你的女人
   就像一堵又一堵的砖墙。
Love Poem
   
   
   There is always something to be made of pain.
   Your mother knits.
   She turns out scarves in every shade of red.
   They were for Christmas, and they kept you warm
   while she married over and over, taking you
   along. How could it work,
   when all those years she stored her widowed heart
   as though the dead come back.
   No wonder you are the way you are,
   afraid of blood, your women
   like one brick wall after another.

诺斯伍德小径
   
   (选自THE HOUSE ON MARSHLAND (1975) )
   作者:(美)露易丝.格丽克(Louise Glück)
   译者:剑郭琴符
   
   对我来说
   我们就像
   那天下午
   在小路上一样:
   现在是
   十月,我可以看到
   太阳沉没
   拉出
   我们平行的
   影子。比如说,
   你在想什么,如此
   关怀你的
   鞋子?我记得
   我们谈到
   你的车
   树林的
   整个长度:
   在这么多枯萎的
   美洲商陆
   分叉为
   紫红色的浆果---如此
   渴望叫做
   爱的东西成型。
   但选择总是
   双方的
   特点,
   正如你所说,
   在黑暗中你
   需要的时候,
   你会再做一次
Northwood Path
   
   For my part
   we are as we were
   on the path
   that afternoon:
   it is
   October, I can see
   the sun sink
   drawing out
   our parallel
   shadows. And you,
   for example what
   were you thinking, so
   attentive to your
   shoes? I recall
   we spoke of
   your car
   the whole length
   of the woods:
   in so much withering
   the pokeweed had
   branched into its
   purplish berry---so
   desire called
   love into being.
   But always the choice
   was on both sides
   characteristic,
   as you said,
   in the dark you came
   to need,
   you would do it again

   
   (选自THE HOUSE ON MARSHLAND (1975) )
   作者:(美)露易丝.格丽克(Louise Glück)
   译者:剑郭琴符
   
   如果你一起死了,
   我就不需要你了。
   现在我把你当成死者,这更好。
   
   通常,在春天清凉的傍晚
   当,带着第一片叶子,
   所有致命的东西进入世界,
   我为我们生起了一堆松树和苹果木的火;
   火焰
   反复地燃烧,减弱
   当夜晚来临,我们
   彼此如此清晰地看到---
   
   在那些日子里,我们
   像从前
   在长草里一样满足,
   在树林的绿门和阴影里。
   
   你从没说
   离开我
   因为死者不喜欢孤单。
The Fire
   
   Had you died when we were together
   I would have wanted nothing of you.
   Now I think of you as dead, it is better.
   
   Often, in the cool early evenings of the spring
   when, with the first leaves,
   all that is deadly enters the world,
   I build a fire for us of pine and apple wood;
   repeatedly
   the flames flare and diminish
   as the night comes on in which
   we see one another so clearly---
   
   And in the days we are contented
   as formerly
   in the long grass,
   in the woods' green doors and shadows.
   
   And you never say
   Leave me
   since the dead do not like being alone.

 楼主| 发表于 2020-10-19 15:30:54 | 显示全部楼层
本帖最后由 剑郭琴符 于 2020-10-19 15:32 编辑




  
堡垒

   (选自THE HOUSE ON MARSHLAND (1975) )
   作者:(美)露易丝.格丽克(Louise Glück)
   译者:剑郭琴符

   现在什么也没有了。学习
   过去疾病的教训
   比较容易。在上帝的旅馆里,我看到
   我的名字和号码钉在一条静脉上
   当马西山的隧道往普莱西德湖
   纠正空气。我可以再
   呼吸。我看着被冰围困的山
   让路给地下城的街区,
   妻子们看守烤炉。我明白。
   她们盘绕头发,她们转向
   音乐似乎,对她自己哼唱,夜班
   护士弄平滑她的制服。这是
   真正的痛苦。灯灭了。爱
   在人体中形成。
  
  

  
The Fortress


   There is nothing now. To learn
   the lesson past disease
   was easier. In God’s hotel I saw
   my name and number stapled to a vein
   as Marcy tunneled its corrective air
   toward Placid. I can breathe
   again. I watch the mountain under siege
   by ice give way to blocks of dungeons,
   ovens manned by wives. I understand.
   They coil their hair, they turn their
   music on as, humming to herself, the night-
   nurse smoothes her uniform. This is
   the proper pain. The lights are out. Love
   forms in the human body.
  
  




  
这是我的黑衣服

   (选自THE HOUSE ON MARSHLAND (1975) )
   作者:(美)露易丝.格丽克(Louise Glück)
   译者:剑郭琴符

   我想现在不爱任何人
   比爱你好。这是我的黑衣服,
   陈旧的睡衣和长袍
   有许多地方磨损。它们为什么挂着没用
   仿佛我赤身裸体一样?你够喜欢我
   穿黑衣服了,我把这些东西送给你作礼物。
   你想用你的嘴触摸它们,用
   你的手指穿过薄薄
   温柔的内衣,在我的
   新生活不需要它们。
  
  

  
Here Are My Black Clothes   


   I think now it is better to love no one
   than to love you. Here are my black clothes,
   the tired nightgowns and robes fraying
   in many places. Why should they hang useless
   as though I were going naked? You liked me well enough
   in black; I make you a gift of these objects.
   You will want to touch them with your mouth, run
   your fingers through the thin
   tender underthings and I
   will not need them in my new life.
  
  




  
金牛座下

   (选自THE HOUSE ON MARSHLAND (1975) )
   作者:(美)露易丝.格丽克(Louise Glück)
   译者:剑郭琴符

   我们在码头上,你希望
   我看到昴宿星。除了你的愿望
   我什么都看得到。

   现在我会跟随。没有一朵云,星星
   出现,甚至看不见的妹妹。告诉我去哪儿看
   就好像它们呆在它们所在的地方。

   在黑暗中指道我。
  
  

  
Under Taurus


   We were on the pier, you desiring
   that I see the Pleiades. I could see
   everything but what you wished.

   Now I will follow. There is not a single cloud; the stars
   appear, even the invisible sister. Show me where to look
   as though they will stay where they are.

   Instruct me in the dark.
  
  




  
游泳者

   (选自THE HOUSE ON MARSHLAND (1975) )
   作者:(美)露易丝.格丽克(Louise Glück)
   译者:剑郭琴符

   你坐在浴缸里。
   没有沙子搅动,死人
   在海里等着。
   然后自来水
   淹没了你,
   蓝宝石和绿宝石。

   海滩
   就像你发现的一样
   到处乱扔的东西。
   它们带我到这里;
   我用枪打穿它们,
   贝壳和骨头,我不满足。

   带给我休息的是你的身体。
   在远处,你转过头:
   穿过寂静的草丛,风
   移动进人类的语言

   黑暗来临,
   漫漫长夜
   变成固定的黑暗。

   只有大海在动。
   它有颜色,玛瑙和锰。
   如果你在那里,它会释放你
   就像,在驯服的海浪中,
   我看见你疲倦的脸,
   你的长臂有助于海滨---

   海浪涌现,
   我们一起旅行。
  
  

  
The Swimmer


   You sat in the tub.
   No sand stirred, the dead
   waited in the ocean.
   Then the tapwater
   flooded over you,
   sapphire and emerald.

   The beach
   is as you found it,
   littered with objects.
   They have brought me here;
   I rifle through them,
   shell and bone, and am not satisfied.

   What brought me to rest was your body.
   Far away you turn your head:
   through still grass the wind
   moves into a human language

   and the darkness comes,
   the long nights
   pass into stationary darkness.

   Only the sea moves.
   It takes on color, onyx and manganese.
   If you are there it will release you
   as when, among the tame waves,
   I saw your worn face,
   your long arms making for shore---

   The waves come forward,
   we are traveling together.
  
  




  

   (选自THE HOUSE ON MARSHLAND (1975) )
   作者:(美)露易丝.格丽克(Louise Glück)
   译者:剑郭琴符

   晚上最后一次。
   最后一次你的手
   在我身上采集。

   明天将是秋天。
   我们一起坐在阳台上
   看着枯叶飘过村庄
   就像我们将要焚烧的信,
   一封接一封,在各自的房间。

   如此安静的夜晚。

   只有你的声音喃喃地说
   你湿透了,你想要
   而孩子
   睡着了,就好像他没有出生一样。

   早晨将是秋天。
   我们一起走在小花园
   在石凳和灌木之间
   在薄雾中仍然呈片状
   像丢弃了很久的家具。

   看树叶在黑暗中怎么飘动。
   我们烧掉了
   它们上面写的一切。
  
  

  
The Letters


   It is night for the last time.
   For the last time your hands gather on my body.

   Tomorrow it will be autumn.
   We will sit together on the balcony
   watching the dry leaves drift over the village
   like the letters we will burn,
   one by one, in our separate houses.

   Such a quiet night.
   Only your voice murmuring
   You’re wet, you want to
   and the child
   sleeps as though he were not born.

   In the morning it will be autumn.
   We will walk together in the small garden
   among stone benches and the shrubs
   still sheeted in mist
   like furniture left for a long time.

   Look how the leaves drift in the darkness.
   We have burned away
   all that was written on them.
  
  




  
山茶

   (选自THE HOUSE ON MARSHLAND (1975) )
   作者:(美)露易丝.格丽克(Louise Glück)
   译者:剑郭琴符

   山上的树
   正在开花。
   它们开出
   巨大的单独的花,
   山茶,
   像是你来找我的时候,
   错误地
   运这些花
   折断了它们的
   细枝。
   雨停了。阳光
   移动者穿过树叶。
   但是死亡
   也有它的花朵,
   它叫做
   传染病,它是
   红色或白色的,山茶的
   颜色---
   你站在那里,
   你的手上满是鲜花。
   既然是礼物
   我怎么能不拿走?
  
  

  
Japonica


   The trees are flowering
   on the hill.
   They are bearing
   large solitary blossoms,
   japonica,
   as when you came to me
   mistakenly
   carrying such flowers
   having snapped them
   from the thin branches.
   The rain had stopped. Sunlight
   motioned through the leaves.
   But death
   also has its flower,
   it is called
   contagion, it is
   red or white, the color
   of japonica---
   You stood there,
   your hands full of flowers.
   How could I not take them
   since they were a gift?
  
  




  
苹果树

   (选自THE HOUSE ON MARSHLAND (1975) )
   作者:(美)露易丝.格丽克(Louise Glück)
   译者:剑郭琴符

   你儿子压着我
   他那小小的聪明的身体。

   我站在他的婴儿床旁边
   就像在另一个梦里
   你站在挂着被咬过的
   苹果的树中间
   伸出你的双臂。
   我一动不动
   只看见空气分开为
   颜色的窗格---最后一刻
   我把他扶到窗前,说
   看看你做了什么
   数出削过的肋骨
   蓝色茎上的心脏
   就像从树木中
   黑暗流出:

   你儿子睡在黑暗的房间里。
   墙壁是绿色的,墙壁
   是云杉和寂静。
   我在等着看他怎么离开我。
   地图已经在他手上出现
   好像你在那里刻的,
   死寂的田野,扎根在河的女人。
  
  

  
The Apple Trees


   Your son presses against me
   his small intelligent body.

   I stand beside his crib
   as in another dream
   you stood among trees hung
   with bitten apples
   holding out your arms.
   I did not move
   but saw the air dividing
   into panes of color---at the very last
   I raised him to the window saying
   See what you have made
   and counted out the whittled ribs,
   the heart on its blue stalk
   as from among the trees
   the darkness issued:

   In the dark room your son sleeps.
   The walls are green, the walls
   are spruce and silence.
   I wait to see how he will leave me.
   Already on his hand the map appears
   as though you carved it there,
   the dead fields, women rooted to the river.
  
  




  
淹死的孩子

   (选自 DESCENDING FIGURE (1980) )
   作者:(美)露易丝.格丽克(Louise Glück)
   译者:剑郭琴符

   下降的形象(1980)
   献给我的父母
   献给约翰

   一 花园

   淹死的孩子

   你知道,他们没有判断力。
   因此,他们淹死是很自然的,
   先是冰层吞没他们
   然后,整个冬天,他们的羊毛围巾
   当他们下沉时漂浮在后面
   直到最后他们安静了。
   池塘用它无数黑色手臂举起他们。

   但死亡必须以不同的方式降临,
   如此接近开始。
   好像他们一直都是
   盲目的,没有重量。所以
   其余是梦,灯,
   铺在桌子上的白布,
   他们的身体。

   但他们听到他们使用的名字
   就像鱼饵滑过池塘:
   你们在等什么
   回家,回家,迷失
   在水里,蓝色和永恒。
  
  










  
DESCENDING FIGURE (1980)
   FOR MY MOTHER AND FATHER
   FOR JOHN

   I THE GARDEN

   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

   (选自 DESCENDING FIGURE (1980) )
   作者:(美)露易丝.格丽克(Louise Glück)
   译者:剑郭琴符

   1.出生的恐惧

   一个声音。然后是房屋
   滑入原位的嘶嘶呼呼声。
   那风的
   叶子穿过动物的身体---

   但我的身体却不能满足于它自己的
   健康,为什么它被弹回
   到阳光的和弦中?

   又是一样。
   这恐惧,这心性,
   直到我被迫进入一片
   没有免疫力的领域
   哪怕是最小的灌木,它
   僵硬地从泥土里走出,拖着
   它根上扭曲的印记,
   甚至郁金香,一只红爪子。

   然后损失,
   一个接一个,
   一切可支撑的。

   2.花园

   花园欣赏你。
   为了你的缘故,它涂上了绿色颜料,
   玫瑰那令人狂喜的红色,
   于是你将和你爱人一起到它那里去。

   还有那些柳树---
   看看它是如何塑造这些
   寂静的绿色帐篷的。然而
   你仍然需要一些东西,
   你的身体如此柔软,如此鲜活,在石头动物中。
   承认像它们一样,超越伤害
   是可怕的。

   3.爱的恐惧

   那身体躺在我身边,就像顺从的石头---
   一度它的眼睛仿佛睁开了,
   我们本来可以说话。

   那时已经是冬天。
   白天,太阳升起在火的盔甲
   晚上也,反射在月亮里。
   它的光自由地穿过我们,
   仿佛我们躺下
   是为了不留下影子,
   只留下雪中的这两个浅浅的凹痕。
   而过去,一如既往,在我们面前展开,
   依旧,复杂,难以逾越。

   我们在那里躺了多久
   就像,手挽手,披着羽毛斗篷,
   众神从我们
   为他们建造的山上下来?

   4.起源

   好像一个声音在说
   你现在该睡觉了---
   但是没有人。空气
   也没有变暗,
   虽然月亮在那里,
   已经充满了大理石。
   仿佛,在一个鲜花盛开的花园里,
   有一个声音说
   它们多么沉闷,这些金光,
   如此响亮,如此重复
   直到你闭上眼睛,
   躺在它们中间,所有
   结结巴巴的火焰:
   可是你睡不着,
   可怜的身体,大地
   依然依偎着你---

   5.埋葬的恐惧

   在空旷的田野里,早晨,
   尸体等待被认领。
   灵魂坐在它的旁边,在一块小岩石上---
   没有任何东西能使它再次成形。

   想想尸体的孤独。
   夜晚,它在剪过的田野里踱步,
   它的影子紧紧地扣在周围。
   如此漫长的旅程。
   村子里遥远,颤抖的灯光
   已经没有停下来等待它,当他们扫视着排房。
   它们看起来多么遥远,
   木门,面包和牛奶
   像重物放在桌子上。
  
  

  
The Garden   

   1.The Fear of Birth

   One sound. Then the hiss and whir
   of houses gliding into their places.
   And the wind
   leafs through the bodies of animals---

   But my body that could not content itself
   with health---why should it be sprung back
   into the chord of sunlight?

   It will be the same again.
   This fear, this inwardness,
   until I am forced into a field
   without immunity
   even to the least shrub that walks
   stiffly out of the dirt, trailing
   the twisted signature of its root,
   even to a tulip, a red claw.

   And then the losses,
   one after another,
   all supportable.

   2.The Garden

   The garden admires you.
   For your sake it smears itself with green pigment,
   the ecstatic reds of the roses,
   so that you will come to it with your lovers.

   And the willows---
   see how it has shaped these green
   tents of silence. Yet
   there is still something you need,
   your body so soft, so alive, among the stone animals.
   Admit that it is terrible to be like them,
   beyond harm.

   3.The Fear of Love

   That 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?

   4.Origins

   As though a voice were saying
   You should be asleep by now---
   But there was no one. Nor
   had the air darkened,
   though the moon was there,
   already filled in with marble.
   As though, in a garden crowded with flowers,
   a voice had said
   How dull they are, these golds,
   so sonorous, so repetitious
   until you closed your eyes,
   lying among them, all
   stammering flame:
   And yet you could not sleep,
   poor body, the earth
   still clinging to you---

   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.
  
  


 楼主| 发表于 2020-10-20 15:38:12 | 显示全部楼层
  
艺术馆
   
   (选自 DESCENDING FIGURE (1980) )
   作者:(美)露易丝.格丽克(Louise Glück)
   译者:剑郭琴符
   
   沉睡已久的爱情展示自己:
   巨大预期中的众神
   真的被关进笼子,柱子
   坐在草坪上,好像完美
   不是永恒的,而是静止不动的---这
   是喜剧,她认为,
   他们瘫痪了。或者像与之相配的天鹅,
   与世隔绝,环绕池塘:克制如此热情
   意味着拥有。他们几乎一言不发。
   在对岸,一个小男孩往水里
   扔面包片。倒影的纪念碑
   被搅动,短暂地,被光折磨---
   她不能再天真地碰他的胳膊。
   他们必须放弃这一点,并开始
   当男性和女性、插入并疼痛。
  
  
  
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.
  
  
  
  
哀悼基督图
   
   (选自 DESCENDING FIGURE (1980) )
   作者:(美)露易丝.格丽克(Louise Glück)
   译者:剑郭琴符
   
   在她紧绷的
   皮肤的织物下,他的心
   轻轻拂动。她听着,
   因为他没有父亲。
   因此,她知道
   他想留在
   她的身体里,远离
   这个世界
   其哭喊,其
   喧闹,
   但是男人们已经
   聚集在一起看他
   出生:他们挤进去
   或跪在敬拜的
   距离,就像
   一幅画中的人物
   星光,稳定地
   照耀在它黑暗的背景中。
  
  
  
Pieta
   
   Under the strained
   fabric of her skin, his heart
   stirred. She listened,
   because he had no father.
   So she knew
   he wanted to stay
   in her body, apart
   from the world
   with its cries, its
   roughhousing,
   but already the men
   gather to see him
   born: they crowd in
   or kneel at worshipful
   distance, like
   figures in a painting
   whom the star lights, shining
   steadily in its dark context.
  
  
  
  
下降的形象
   
   (选自 DESCENDING FIGURE (1980) )
   作者:(美)露易丝.格丽克(Louise Glück)
   译者:剑郭琴符
   
   1.流浪者
   
   黄昏,我走进街头。
   太阳低挂在铁制的天空中,
   被寒冷的羽毛环绕。
   如果我能写信给你
   关于这种空虚---
   沿着路边,一群孩子
   正在干树叶里玩耍。
   很久以前,在这个时候,我妈妈站在
   草坪边,抱着我的小妹妹。
   所有人都走了,我和另一个妹妹
   在黑暗的街道上玩耍,
   死亡使她如此孤独。
   夜以继日,我们看着屏蔽的门廊里
   充满了金色的,磁性的光。
   为什么没人给她打电话?
   我常常让自己的名字滑过我
   尽管我渴望它的保护。
   
   2.生病的孩子
   ---国立博物馆
   
   一个小孩
   病了,已经醒来。
   在冬天,午夜已过
   在安特卫普。木箱上方,
   星星闪耀。
   那孩子
   在妈妈双臂中放松。
   母亲不睡觉;
   她一动不动地
   凝视着明亮的博物馆。
   到春天那孩子就会死。
   然后错了,错误地
   抱着她---
   让她一个人呆着,
   没有记忆,因为其他人醒了
   极度惊恐,刮掉他们
   脸上的黑漆。
   
   3.献给我妹妹
   
   远处,我妹妹正在她的婴儿床上动。
   死了的人像那样,
   总是最后一个安静的。
   
   因为,无论他们在地上躺多久,
   他们都学不会说话
   而是犹豫地压在木条上,
   这么小的树叶抱住他们。
   
   现在,如果她有声音,
   饥饿的哭声就会开始。
   我应该去找她;
   也许如果我唱得很轻,
   她的皮肤那么白,
   她的头上覆盖黑色的羽毛…
  
  
  
Descending Figure
   
   
   1.The Wanderer
   
   At twilight I went into the street.
   The sun hung low in the iron sky,
   ringed with cold plumage.
   If I could write to you
   about this emptiness---
   Along the curb, groups of children
   were playing in the dry leaves.
   Long ago, at this hour, my mother stood
   at the lawn's edge, holding my little sister.
   Everyone was gone; I was playing
   in the dark street with my other sister,
   whom death had made so lonely.
   Night after night we watched the screened porch
   filling with a gold, magnetic light.
   Why was she never called?
   Often I would let my own name glide past me
   though I craved its protection.
   
   2.The Sick Child
   ---Rijksmuseum
   
   A small child
   is ill, has wakened.
   It is winter, past midnight
   in Antwerp. Above a wooden chest,
   the stars shine.
   And the child
   relaxes in her mother’s arms.
   The mother does not sleep;
   she stares
   fixedly into the bright museum.
   By spring the child will die.
   Then it is wrong, wrong
   to hold her---
   Let her be alone,
   without memory, as the others wake
   terrified, scraping the dark
   paint from their faces.
   
   3.For My Sister
   
   Far away my sister is moving in her crib.
   The dead ones are like that,
   always the last to quiet.
   
   Because, however long they lie in the earth,
   they will not learn to speak
   but remain uncertainly pressing against the wooden bars,
   so small the leaves hold them down.
   
   Now, if she had a voice,
   the cries of hunger would be beginning.
   I should go to her;
   perhaps if I sang very softly,
   her skin so white,
   her head covered with black feathers ...
  
  
  
  
感恩节
   
   (选自 DESCENDING FIGURE (1980) )
   作者:(美)露易丝.格丽克(Louise Glück)
   译者:剑郭琴符
   
   它们又来果园吃草
   知道它们会被拒绝。
   树叶落下,风在干燥的土地上
   把它们堆积成堆,分类
   它所毁灭的一切。
   
   什么不动,雪就覆盖什么。
   它会送出它们;它们的蹄印
   会做出雪记得的图案。
   在空地上,它们徘徊
   像被召唤的猎物,它们的职责
   是不宽恕。它们死得起。
   它们在死亡秩序中占有一席之地。
  
  
  
Thanksgiving
   
   
   They have come again to graze the orchard
   knowing they will be denied.
   The leaves have fallen; on the dry ground
   the wind makes piles of them, sorting
   all it destroys.
   
   What doesn't move, the snow will cover.
   It will give them away; their hooves
   make patterns which the snow remembers.
   In the cleared field, they linger
   as the summoned prey whose part
   is not to forgive. They can afford to die.
   They have their place in the dying order.
  
  
  
  
颂歌
   
   (选自 DESCENDING FIGURE (1980) )
   作者:(美)露易丝.格丽克(Louise Glück)
   译者:剑郭琴符
   
   二 镜子
   
   颂歌
   
   还有其他人,他们的身体
   是预备。
   我已经像那样看过。
   
   就像一连串哭声。
   世界上有那么多痛苦---身体
   无形的悲伤,它的语言
   是饥饿---
   
   大厅里,盒装的玫瑰:
   它们意味着
   
   混乱。然后开始了
   可怕的婚姻慈善,
   夫妻俩
   在金色的灯光下爬上青山
   直到没有山,
   只有一片平坦的平原被天空阻挡。
   
   这是我的手,他说。
   但那是很久以前。
   这是我不会伤害你的手。
  
  










  
II THE MIRROR
   
   Epithalamium
   
   
   
   There were others; their bodies
   were a preparation.
   I have come to see it as that.
   
   As a stream of cries.
   So much pain in the world---the formless
   grief of the body, whose language
   is hunger---
   
   And in the hall, the boxed roses:
   what they mean
   
   is chaos. Then begins
   the terrible charity of marriage,
   husband and wife
   climbing the green hill in gold light
   until there is no hill,
   only a flat plain stopped by the sky.
   
   Here is my hand, he said.
   But that was long ago.
   Here is my hand that will not harm you.
  
  
  
  
启示
   
   (选自 DESCENDING FIGURE (1980) )
   作者:(美)露易丝.格丽克(Louise Glück)
   译者:剑郭琴符
   
   1.
   
   我儿子穿着蓝色的滑雪服蹲在雪地里。
   他周围都是麦茬,褐色的
   退化的灌木。在早晨的空气中
   他们似乎在词语中僵硬。
   并且,在白色稳定的寂静之间。
   一只鹪鹩在窗台下的
   飞机跑道上跳来跳去,钻洞
   觅食,然后展开
   它的短翅膀,影子
   从它们上面落下。
   
   2.
   
   去年冬天他几乎说不出话来。
   我把他的婴儿床移到面向窗户的地方;
   在黑暗的早晨,
   他会站着紧抓栏杆
   直到墙壁出现,
   呼唤光,光,
   那一个音节,在
   要求或承认。
   
   3.
   
   他坐在厨房的窗户边
   端着一杯苹果汁。
   每棵树都在他离开的地方形成,
   没有叶子,困在他的呼吸里。
   它们的边缘是多么清晰,
   没有肢体被运动遮蔽,
   在语言地图上
   当太阳升起寒冷和单一。
  
  
  
Illuminations
   
   
   1.
   
   My son squats in the snow in his blue snowsuit.
   All around him stubble, the brown
   degraded bushes. In the morning air
   they seem to stiffen into words.
   And, between, the white steady silence.
   A wren hops on the airstrip
   under the sill, drills
   for sustenance, then spreads
   its short wings, shadows
   dropping from them.
   
   2.
   
   Last winter he could barely speak.
   I moved his crib to face the window;
   in the dark mornings
   he would stand and grip the bars
   until the walls appeared,
   calling light, light,
   that one syllable, in
   demand or recognition.
   
   3.
   
   He sits at the kitchen window
   with his cup of apple juice.
   Each tree forms where he left it,
   leafless, trapped in his breath.
   How clear their edges are,
   no limb obscured by motion,
   as the sun rises
   cold and single over the map of language.
  
  
  
  
镜子
   
   (选自 DESCENDING FIGURE (1980) )
   作者:(美)露易丝.格丽克(Louise Glück)
   译者:剑郭琴符
   
   看着镜子里的你,我想知道
   如此美像什么
   为什么你不爱
   却割伤了自己,像个盲人
   修面。我想你让我注视
   这样你就可以
   用更大的暴力背叛自己,
   需要让我看你是如何毫不犹豫地
   轻蔑地把肉刮走,
   直到我正确地看到你,
   作为一个流血的人,不是
   我想要的映像。
  
  
  
The Mirror   
   
   
   Watching you in the mirror I wonder
   what it is like to be so beautiful
   and why you do not love
   but cut yourself, shaving
   like a blind man. I think you let me stare
   so you can turn against yourself
   with greater violence,
   needing to show me how you scrape the flesh away
   scornfully and without hesitation
   until I see you correctly,
   as a man bleeding, not
   the reflection I desire.
  
  
  
  
肖像
   
   (选自 DESCENDING FIGURE (1980) )
   作者:(美)露易丝.格丽克(Louise Glück)
   译者:剑郭琴符
   
   一个孩子画一个身体的轮廓。
   她画她能画的,但始终是白色的
   她不能把那儿她知道的东西填进去。
   在不受支持的线条内,她知道
   生命失踪了;她将一个背景
   与另一个背景割裂开来。像个孩子一样,
   她转向母亲。
   
   你拖着心
   抵抗她创造的空虚。
  
  
  
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.
  
  
  
  
探戈
   
   (选自 DESCENDING FIGURE (1980) )
   作者:(美)露易丝.格丽克(Louise Glück)
   译者:剑郭琴符
   
   1.
   
   像这样的晚上
   二十年前:
   
   我们坐在桌子下面,
   成年人的手
   在我们头上打鼓。在外面,
   街上,
   蔓延的本地话
   
   记得
   我们以前怎么跳舞?形影不离,
   在客厅里来来回回,
   再见伙计们,像昆虫
   在镜子上移动:嫉妒
   也是一种舞蹈;伤害的需要
   把你和你的伴侣绑在一起。
   
   2.
   
   你在婴儿床上翻来覆去,
   你的小嘴回旋
   古老的重复。
   我看着你穿过栅栏,
   我们俩
   主动挨饿。在另一个房间
   我们的父母融入一个
   图腾生物:
   
   来吧,她说。到妈妈身边来。
   你站着。你蹒跚着走向
   那无法逃脱的躯体。
   
   3.
   
   一块黑板遮住了太阳。
   然后父亲们来了,
   他们的长车在街上缓缓行驶,
   把孩子们分开。然后
   街道就让给了黑暗。
   
   剩下的是:院子
   吃力的绿色,小花园
   用绿线织补---
   
   树,其影子
   也是蓝色的辐条。
   
   但有些是光的选择。
   它们如何发抖
   当月亮登上它们,残忍而姐妹般地:
   
   我过去常常看着它们,
   整夜沉浸在月亮的中性银子中,
   直到它们最终变得模糊、毁容…
   
   4
   
   被指挥是什么感觉?
   
   我不相信任何人。我的名字
   就像一个陌生人的,
   从信封里读出来。
   
   但没有我本可以用的东西
   从我拿走。
   仅此一次,我承认。
   
   在大厅,为
   记录在案的激情开始
   摆出姿势,年龄
   5岁和7岁:
   
   你是地平线上的金色太阳。
   我是审判者,我的影子
   领先我,没有动摇
   
   而是像一个可以再次使用的模子。
   你的赤脚
   变成了女人的脚,总是
   同时说两件事。
   
   两姐妹中
   一个总是守望者
   一个是舞者。
  
  
  
Tango   
   
   1.
   
   On evenings like this
   twenty years ago:
   
   We sit under the table,
   the adults’ hands
   drum on our heads. Outside,
   the street,
   the contagious vernacular
   
   Remember
   how we used to dance? Inseparable,
   back and forth across the living room,
   Adios Muchachos, like an insect
   moving on a mirror: envy
   is a dance, too; the need to hurt
   binds you to your partner.
   
   2.
   
   You thrashed in the crib,
   your small mouth circling
   the ancient repetitions.
   I watched you through the bars,
   both of us
   actively starving. In the other room
   our parents merged into the one
   totemic creature:
   
   Come, she said. Come to Mother.
   You stood. You tottered toward
   the inescapable body.
   
   3.
   
   A dark board covers the sun.
   Then the fathers come,
   their long cars move slowly down the street,
   parting the children. Then
   the street is given over to darkness.
   
   The rest follows: the labored
   green of the yards, the little gardens
   darned with green thread---
   
   The trees also, whose shadows
   were blue spokes.
   
   But some the light chooses.
   How they tremble
   as the moon mounts them, brutal and sisterly:
   
   I used to watch them,
   all night absorbed in the moon's neutral silver
   until they were finally blurred, disfigured ...
   
   4.
   
   What was it like to be led?
   
   I trusted no one. My name
   was like a stranger’s,
   read from an envelope.
   
   But nothing was taken from me
   that I could have used.
   For once, I admit that.
   
   In the hall, posed
   for the record’s
   passionate onset, ages
   five and seven:
   
   You were the gold sun on the horizon.
   I was the judgment, my shadow
   preceded me, not wavering
   
   but like a mold that would be used again.
   Your bare feet
   became a woman's feet, always
   saying two things at once.
   
   Of two sisters
   one is always the watcher,
   one the dancer.
  
  

 楼主| 发表于 2020-10-21 15:58:47 | 显示全部楼层
本帖最后由 剑郭琴符 于 2020-10-21 16:07 编辑




天鹅

   (选自 DESCENDING FIGURE (1980) )
   作者:(美)露易丝.格丽克(Louise Glück)
   译者:剑郭琴符

   你们俩都很安静,看着水面。
   不是现在,是几年前,
   在你们结婚前。
   海面上的天空变成了
   傍晚时分奇怪苍白的桃红色
   海水从那里退去,承载
   它雕刻的船:你们的身体就是这样。
   但她的脸对你抬起,
   面对着沉闷的波浪,被激情
   简化。然后你举起你的手
   从梦中天鹅的框架之外
   来到去鳞的水上定居。
   大海温和地躺着像水池。在它的边缘
   你面对她,说
   “这些是你的继续。”地平线燃烧着,
   释放出它扣留的光。
   然后我醒了。但几天来
   当我试图想象你离开你妻子
   我看到她在你的礼物前一动不动:
   天鹅总是无威胁地滑过
   太平洋僵硬的蓝色,然后
   像单股波浪升起,纯白而吞噬。



  Swans


   You were both quiet, looking out over the water.
   It was not now; it was years ago,
   before you were married.
   The sky above the sea had turned
   the odd pale peach color of early evening
   from which the sea withdrew, bearing
   its carved boats: your bodies were like that.
   But her face was raised to you,
   against the dull waves, simplified
   by passion. Then you raised your hand
   and from beyond the frame of the dream
   swans came to settle on the scaled water.
   The sea lay mild as a pool. At its edge,
   you faced her, saying
   These are yours to keep. The horizon burned,
   releasing its withheld light.
   And then I woke. But for days
   when I tried to imagine you leaving your wife
   I saw her motionless before your gift:
   always the swans glide unmenacing across
   the rigid blue of the Pacific Ocean, then rise
   in a single wave, pure white and devouring.






夜的碎片

   (选自 DESCENDING FIGURE (1980) )
   作者:(美)露易丝.格丽克(Louise Glück)
   译者:剑郭琴符

   他知道他会受伤的。
   在床上这些警告到达
   因为睡眠威胁他:在伪装的
   照明灯光中,他假装守护着
   他的生命被概括在其中的肉体。
   他张开双臂。在墙上,一个相应的图形
   将他与他无法控制的黑暗联系起来。
   在形式上,野兽起源于
   他的敌人。离开他们
   他就不能睡觉。



Night Piece


   He knows he will be hurt.
   The warnings come to him in bed
   because repose threatens him: in the camouflaging
   light of the nightlight, he pretends to guard
   the flesh in which his life is summarized.
   He spreads his arms. On the wall, a corresponding figure
   links him to the darkness he cannot control.
   In its forms, the beasts originate
   who are his enemies. He cannot sleep
   apart from them.






波特兰,1968年

   (选自 DESCENDING FIGURE (1980) )
   作者:(美)露易丝.格丽克(Louise Glück)
   译者:剑郭琴符

   你站在那里,就像岩石站在
   大海在渴望的
   透明波浪中到达的地方;
   它们被破坏;最终
   一切固定的东西都被破坏。
   大海胜利了,
   像一切虚假的,
   一切流畅的,有女人味的。
   从后面,一个镜头
   为你的身体打开。你为什么
   要转身?证人是谁,
   你为谁受苦,
   为谁站着不动
   都无关紧要。



Portland,1968


   You stand as rocks stand
   to which the sea reaches
   in transparent waves of longing;
   they are marred, finally;
   everything fixed is marred.
   And the sea triumphs,
   like all that is false,
   all that is fluent and womanly.
   From behind, a lens
   opens for your body. Why
   should you turn? It doesn’t matter
   who the witness is,
   for whom you are suffering,
   for whom you are standing still.





瓷碗

   (选自 DESCENDING FIGURE (1980) )
   作者:(美)露易丝.格丽克(Louise Glück)
   译者:剑郭琴符

   它排除了用途:
   在草坪椅上,一个女人
   类似的身体被安排,
   就此而论
   我看不出时间对她做了什么。
   几片树叶落下。一阵风把长草分开
   使一条路无路可走。那只手
   不由自主地抬起,在她脸上移动
   如此彻底迷失---
   草在晃动,
   仿佛那运动是
   一种睡眠的外观。
   珍珠白
   在绿色上。草丛中的
   陶瓷手。



Porcelain Bowl


   It rules out use:
   in a lawn chair, the analogous
   body of a woman is arranged,
   and in this light
   I cannot see what time has done to her.
   A few leaves fall. A wind parts the long grass
   making a path going nowhere. And the hand
   involuntarily lifts; it moves across her face
   so utterly lost---
   The grass sways,
   as though that motion were
   an aspect of repose.
   Pearl white
   on green. Ceramic
   hand in the grass.






献身于饥饿

   (选自 DESCENDING FIGURE (1980) )
   作者:(美)露易丝.格丽克(Louise Glück)
   译者:剑郭琴符

   1.来自郊区

   他们穿过院子
   在后门
   母亲高兴地看到
   他们是多么相似,父亲和女儿——
   我知道一些当时的事情。
   小女孩有目的地
   挥舞着手臂,笑着
   她那赤裸的笑:

   应该保密,那声音。
   这意味着她意识到
   他从不碰她。
   她是个孩子,他可以碰她
   如果他愿意。

   2.祖母

   “我常常站在窗前---
   那时你爷爷
   还是个年轻人---
   等待,在傍晚时分。”

   这就是婚姻。
   我看着那个瘦小的身影
   变成了一个男人
   当他走向她,
   最后的光芒在他头发中环绕。
   我不怀疑
   他们的幸福。他冲进来
   带着年轻人的饥饿,
   如此自豪地告诉她:
   他的吻
   显然是温柔的---
   当然,当然。只不过
   也许本来是
   他的手捂住她的嘴。

   3.性爱

   作为男性,常常
   去女人那里
   然后被带回到
   被刺穿的肉体:

   我推断
   记忆被搅动了。
   而那个女孩
   自愿地
   进入父亲的双臂
   其次,同样
   爱他。她没有说的是
   她需要表达什么。
   人们看到一种眼神,
   不知何故绝望的嘴巴---

   因为这种纽带
   无法证明。

   4.偏差

   它悄悄地开始于
   某些女性儿童:
   死亡的恐惧,把献身于饥饿
   作为其表现形式,
   因为女人的身体
   是坟墓,它可以接受
   任何东西。我记得
   晚上躺在床上
   抚摸着柔软的、离题的乳房,
   抚摸,十五岁,
   管闲事的肉体
   我愿意牺牲
   直到四肢免于
   开花和诡计:我感觉到
   我现在的感受,调整这些话——
   这也是完美的需要,
   死亡只是其中的副产品。

   5.圣物

   今天在田野里,我看到
   坚硬,活跃的山茱萸的蓓蕾
   想要,正如我们所说,捕捉它们,
   使它们永恒。这就是放弃的
   前提:孩子,
   没有自我可言,
   在否定中达到生命---

   我站在这成就旁,
   其力量揭露出
   根本的身体,就像上帝
   其行为
   在自然世界中没有匹配者。



Dedication to Hunger


   1.From the Suburbs

   They cross the yard
   and at the back door
   the mother sees with pleasure
   how alike they are, father and daughter---
   I know something of that time.
   The little girl purposefully
   swinging her arms, laughing
   her stark laugh:

   It should be kept secret, that sound.
   It means she’s realized
   that he never touches her.
   She is a child; he could touch her
   if he wanted to.

   2.Grandmother

   “Often I would stand at the window---
   your grandfather
   was a young man then---
   waiting, in the early evening.”

   That is what marriage is.
   I watch the tiny figure
   changing to a man
   as he moves toward her,
   the last light rings in his hair.
   I do not question
   their happiness. And he rushes in
   with his young man’s hunger,
   so proud to have taught her that:
   his kiss would have been
   clearly tender---
   Of course, of course. Except
   it might as well have been
   his hand over her mouth.

   3.Eros

   To be male, always
   to go to women
   and be taken back
   into the pierced flesh:

   I suppose
   memory is stirred.
   And the girl child
   who wills herself
   into her father’s arms
   likewise loved him
   second. Nor is she told
   what need to express.
   There is a look one sees,
   the mouth somehow desperate---

   Because the bond
   cannot be proven.

   4.The Deviation

   It begins quietly
   in certain female children:
   the fear of death, taking as its form
   dedication to hunger,
   because a woman’s body
   is a grave; it will accept
   anything. I remember
   lying in bed at night
   touching the soft, digressive breasts,
   touching, at fifteen,
   the interfering flesh
   that I would sacrifice
   until the limbs were free
   of blossom and subterfuge: I felt
   what I feel now, aligning these words---
   it is the same need to perfect,
   of which death is the mere byproduct.

   5.Sacred Objects

   Today in the field I saw
   the hard, active buds of the dogwood
   and wanted, as we say, to capture them,
   to make them eternal. That is the premise
   of renunciation: the child,
   having no self to speak of,
   comes to life in denial---

   I stood apart in that achievement,
   in that power to expose
   the underlying body, like a god
   for whose deed
   there is no parallel in the natural world.






幸福

   (选自 DESCENDING FIGURE (1980) )
   作者:(美)露易丝.格丽克(Louise Glück)
   译者:剑郭琴符

   一男一女躺在一张白色的床上。
   现在是早上。我想
   他们很快就会醒。
   床头柜上是一瓶
   百合花;阳光
   汇聚在它们的喉咙里。
   我看着他转向她
   好像要说出她的名字
   但默默地,深深地在她的嘴里---
   在窗台上,
   有一次,两次,
   一只鸟在叫。
   然后她骚动,她的身体
   充满他的气息。

   我睁开眼睛,你在看着我。
   几乎在这个房间上
   太阳滑过。
   “看看你的脸,”你说,
   靠近我容纳你自己
   做一面镜子。
   你多么平静。燃烧的车轮
   轻轻地掠过我们。



Happiness


   A man and 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.






秋天

   (选自 DESCENDING FIGURE (1980) )
   作者:(美)露易丝.格丽克(Louise Glück)
   译者:剑郭琴符

   三、哀歌

   秋天

   公众的悲伤,树叶
   获得的金子,减少,
   预兆着产量的燃烧:
   这些都完成了。在湖边,
   金属桶里满桶火。
   所以废物被提升
   为美。散落的死者
   联合在一个消费的秩序观中。
   最后,一切都赤裸着。
   在寒冷、易接受的大地上
   树木弯曲。在远处,
   湖面发光,平静,归还
   天堂确定的蓝色。
   这个词
   是“生育”:你给啊给,你把自己抽空
   成一个孩子。你幸存于
   自动丢失。抵抗非人的风景
   这棵树仍然是悲伤的象征;它的形式
   是被强迫的迁就。在坟墓里,
   是那个女人,不是它,弯腰,
   那矛在她旁边毫无用处。













III LAMENTATIONS

   Autumnal//

   Public sorrow, the acquired
   gold of the leaf, the falling off,
   the prefigured burning of the yield:
   which is accomplished. At the lake's edge,
   the metal pails are full vats of fire.
   So waste is elevated
   into beauty. And the scattered dead
   unite in one consuming vision of order.
   In the end, everything is bare.
   Above the cold, receptive earth
   the trees bend. Beyond,
   the lake shines, placid, giving back
   the established blue of heaven.
   The word
   is bear: you give and give, you empty yourself
   into a child. And you survive
   the automatic loss. Against inhuman landscape
   the tree remains a figure for grief; its form
   is forced accommodation. At the grave,
   it is the woman, isn’t it, who bends,
   the spear useless beside her.






晨歌

   (选自 DESCENDING FIGURE (1980) )
   作者:(美)露易丝.格丽克(Louise Glück)
   译者:剑郭琴符


   今天,在海鸥的叫声上方
   我听到你又叫醒了我
   看见那只鸟,在
   城市上空如此奇怪地飞行,
   不想
   停下来,想要
   那大海蓝色的荒芜---

   现在它环绕郊区,
   正午的阳光猛烈地照射着它:

   我感觉到它的饥饿,
   当你的手在我里面,

   一声呼喊
   如此普通、不合调---

   我们的没有
   不同。他们站起
   从不竭的
   身体的需求

   确定回来的希望:
   灰蒙蒙的黎明,我们的衣服
   没有为离开准备好。



Aubade

   Today above the gull’s call
   I heard you waking me again
   to see that bird, flying
   so strangely over the city,
   not wanting
   to stop, wanting
   the blue waste of the sea---

   Now it skirts the suburb,
   the noon light violent against it:

   I feel its hunger
   as your hand inside me,

   a cry
   so common, unmusical---

   Ours were not
   different. They rose
   from the unexhausted
   need of the body

   fixing a wish to return:
   the ashen dawn, our clothes
   not sorted for departure.







阿佛洛狄忒

   (选自 DESCENDING FIGURE (1980) )
   作者:(美)露易丝.格丽克(Louise Glück)
   译者:剑郭琴符

   一个岩石般暴露的女人
   有这样的优势:
   她控制着港口。
   最终,男人出现,
   厌倦了公开。
   所以终止,他们觉得,
   一个故事。一开始,
   渴望。最后,欢乐。
   在中间,沉闷。

   及时地,这位年轻的妻子
   自然地变得强硬。从她一边
   飘荡,在想象中,
   男人回到他所预测的
   女神,而不是苦力。

   在一座小山上,无臂的身影
   迎接着那艘失职的船,
   她的大腿水泥般紧闭,阻止
   岩石上的断层。



Aphrodite


   A woman exposed as rock
   has this advantage:
   she controls the harbor.
   Ultimately, men appear,
   weary of the open.
   So terminates, they feel,
   a story. In the beginning,
   longing. At the end, joy.
   In the middle, tedium.

   In time, the young wife
   naturally hardens. Drifting
   from her side, in imagination,
   the man returns not to a drudge
   but to the goddess he projects.

   On a hill, the armless figure
   welcomes the delinquent boat,
   her thighs cemented shut, barring
   the fault in the rock.






玫瑰色

   (选自 DESCENDING FIGURE (1980) )
   作者:(美)露易丝.格丽克(Louise Glück)
   译者:剑郭琴符

   当你拎着手提箱走进来,门
   开着,于是夜晚就出现
   在你身后的一个黑色的广场上,上面有钉头般的
   小星星,我想告诉你
   你就像那只默认来找你的狗,
   在三条腿上:既然她不再是别人的,
   她追求与交通和寒冷自然
   更持久的关系,好像痛苦地
   伤害自己,于是她无法痊愈。
   她不再被善良欺骗,
   她更喜欢潮湿的街道:死亡所声称的一切
   不会放弃。
   你知道,动物对我来说毫无意义。



Rosy

   When you walked in with your suitcase, leaving
   the door open so the night showed
   in a black square behind you, with its little stars
   like nailheads, I wanted to tell you
   you were like the dog that came to you by default,
   on three legs: now that she is again no one’s,
   she pursues her more durable relationships
   with traffic and cold nature, as though at pains
   to wound herself so that she will not heal.
   She is past being taken in by kindness,
   preferring wet streets: what death claims
   it does not abandon.
   You understand, the animal means nothing to me.






 楼主| 发表于 2020-10-22 16:12:29 | 显示全部楼层
本帖最后由 剑郭琴符 于 2020-10-22 16:15 编辑



哀伤的梦

   (选自 DESCENDING FIGURE (1980) )
   作者:(美)露易丝.格丽克(Louise Glück)
   译者:剑郭琴符

   我睡觉所以你将活着,
   就这么简单。
   梦本身什么都不是。
   它们是你控制的疾病,
   没有别的。

   我在夏日的黄昏冲向你,
   不是在现实世界,而是在你在那里
   等待埋葬的一个地方,
   当风在海湾上空移动,玩弄着它,
   强行通过惊慌的瘦小的山脊---

   然后早晨来临,要求猎物。
   记得?世界服从了。

   昨晚不一样。
   有人把我肏醒了;当我睁开眼睛
   一切都结束了,我籍由知道我生活的
   一切需要都消失了。

   有一瞬间我相信我进入了
   稳定的地球黑暗
   以为它会把我抱住。



The Dream of Mourning


   I sleep so you will be alive,
   it is that simple.
   The dreams themselves are nothing.
   They are the sickness you control,
   nothing more.

   I rush toward you in the summer twilight,
   not in the real world, but in the buried one
   where you are waiting,
   as the wind moves over the bay, toying with it,
   forcing thin ridges of panic---

   And then the morning comes, demanding prey.
   Remember? And the world complies.

   Last night was different.
   Someone fucked me awake; when I opened my eyes
   it was over, all the need gone
   by which I knew my life.
   And for one instant I believed I was entering
   the stable dark of the earth
   and thought it would hold me.





礼物

   (选自 DESCENDING FIGURE (1980) )
   作者:(美)露易丝.格丽克(Louise Glück)
   译者:剑郭琴符

   主啊,你可能认不出我
   在替别人说话。
   我有一个儿子。他
   这么小,那么无知。
   他喜欢站在
   纱门前,叫着
   奥吉,奥吉,进入
   语言,有时
   一只狗会停下来开始
   走动,也许
   是意外地。他能相信
   这不是意外吗?
   在屏幕上
   欢迎每一个野兽
   以爱的名义,你的使者。



The Gift


   Lord, You may not recognize me
   speaking for someone else.
   I have a son. He is
   so little, so ignorant.
   He likes to stand
   at the screen door, calling
   oggie, oggie, entering
   language, and sometimes
   a dog will stop and come up
   the walk, perhaps
   accidentally. May he believe
   this is not an accident?
   At the screen
   welcoming each beast
   in love's name, Your emissary.





世界分崩离析

   (选自 DESCENDING FIGURE (1980) )
   作者:(美)露易丝.格丽克(Louise Glück)
   译者:剑郭琴符

   我望着外面荒芜的雪。
   在白桦树下,一辆手推车。
   它后面的篱笆修好了。野餐桌上,
   堆起的雪,像一个碗里倒装的东西
   风把它吹成圆顶。风,
   带着建造的冲动。在我的手指下,
   白色的方形钥匙,每个印着
   它的单个字符。我相信
   一颗破碎的心释放出
   它审视的对象:树,碗里的蓝李子,
   一个男人伸手握住他妻子的手
   在一张板条桌子上,然后悄悄盖住它,
   仿佛他的意志将它包含在这个手势中。
   我看到它们拆开了,釉面粘土
   开始无休止地分裂,散布
   不相干的粒子,它们持续不断地
   闪烁。我在梦里凝视着
   我们凝视夏夜星星的方式,
   我的手在你胸前,酒
   握有河水的寒意。没有这样的光。
   痛苦,自由的手,几乎什么也改变不了。
   就像冬天的风,它在雪中
   留下固定的形状。已知的,可辨认的---
   除非它们没用。



World Breaking Apart



   I look out over the sterile snow.
   Under the white birch tree, a wheelbarrow.
   The fence behind it mended. On the picnic table,
   mounded snow, like the inverted contents of a bowl
   whose dome the wind shapes. The wind,
   with its impulse to build. And under my fingers,
   the square white keys, each stamped
   with its single character. I believed
   a mind’s shattering released
   the objects of its scrutiny: trees, blue plums in a bowl,
   a man reaching for his wife’s hand
   across a slatted table, and quietly covering it,
   as though his will enclosed it in that gesture.
   I saw them come apart, the glazed clay
   begin dividing endlessly, dispersing
   incoherent particles that went on
   shining forever. I dreamed of watching that
   the way we watched the stars on summer evenings,
   my hand on your chest, the wine
   holding the chill of the river. There is no such light.
   And pain, the free hand, changes almost nothing.
   Like the winter wind, it leaves
   settled forms in the snow. Known, identifiable---
   except there are no uses for them.





返回

   (选自 DESCENDING FIGURE (1980) )
   作者:(美)露易丝.格丽克(Louise Glück)
   译者:剑郭琴符

   最初你离开的时候
   我很害怕;然后
   一个男孩在街上摸我,
   他的眼睛和我的眼睛平齐,
   清澈而悲伤:我
   叫他进来;我用我们的语言
   和他说话,
   但他的手是你的,
   如此温柔地提出它们谋杀的要求---
   那么我打电话给你们中的哪一个
   都无关紧要,
   伤口那么深。



The Return


   At first when you went away
   I was frightened; then
   a boy touched me on the street,
   his eyes were level with mine,
   clear and grieving: I
   called him in; I spoke to him
   in our language,
   but his hands were yours,
   so gently making their murderous claim---
   And then it didn't matter
   which one of you I called,
   the wound was that deep.





哀歌

   (选自 DESCENDING FIGURE (1980) )
   作者:(美)露易丝.格丽克(Louise Glück)
   译者:剑郭琴符

   1.逻各斯

   他们俩都一动不动,
   女人悲伤,男人
   插进她的身体。

   但是上帝在注视。
   他们感到他的金眼睛
   把花投射在风景上。

   谁知道他想要什么?
   他是上帝,一个怪物。
   所以他们等着。世界
   充满他的光辉,
   仿佛他想被理解。

   远处,在他所塑造的空虚中,
   他转向他的天使。

   2.夜曲

   一片森林从地上升起。
   啊,可怜,如此需要
   上帝狂暴的爱---

   同时他们是野兽。

   他们躺在他疏忽大意的
   固定的黄昏里;
   从山上,狼来了,机械地
   被它们人类的温暖,恐慌
   所吸引。

   于是天使们看到
   他如何分开他们:
   男人,女人,女人的身体。
   在翻腾的芦苇上,树叶发出了
   银子的缓慢悲叹。

   3.圣约

   出于恐惧,他们建造了一个住所。
   但是一个孩子在他们之间成长
   当他们睡觉的时候,当他们试图
   养活自己。
   他们把它放在一堆树叶上,
   被丢弃的小尸体
   裹在动物干净的
   皮肤里。在漆黑的天空下
   他们看到了巨大的光的争论。

   有时候它醒了。当它到达它的手
   他们明白他们是母亲和父亲
   没有权力高于他们。

   4.清算

   渐渐地,经过许多年,
   皮毛从他们身上消失
   直到他们站在
   彼此陌生的强光下。
   一切都不像以前。
   他们的手颤抖着,寻找
   密友。

   他们也不能把眼睛
   从白色的肉上移开
   伤口会像纸上的文字
   清晰地显现。

   最后,上帝从毫无意义的
   棕色和绿色中升起,他的巨大阴影
   使他孩子们熟睡的身体变暗,
   然后跃入天堂。

   地球,第一次
   从空中看到,
   一定美极了。



Lamentations


   1.The Logos

   They were both still,
   the woman mournful, the man
   branching into her body.

   But god was watching.
   They felt his gold eye
   projecting flowers on the landscape.

   Who knew what he wanted?
   He was god, and a monster.
   So they waited. And the world
   filled with his radiance,
   as though he wanted to be understood.

   Far away, in the void that he had shaped,
   he turned to his angels.

   2.Nocturne

   A forest rose from the earth.
   O pitiful, so needing
   God’s furious love---

   Together they were beasts.
   They lay in the fixed
   dusk of his negligence;
   from the hills, wolves came, mechanically
   drawn to their human warmth,
   their panic.

   Then the angels saw
   how He divided them:
   the man, the woman, and the woman's body.
   Above the churned reeds, the leaves let go
   a slow moan of silver.

   3.The Covenant

   Out of fear, they built a dwelling place.
   But a child grew between them
   as they slept, as they tried
   to feed themselves.
   They set it on a pile of leaves,
   the small discarded body
   wrapped in the clean skin
   of an animal. Against the black sky
   they saw the massive argument of light.

   Sometimes it woke. As it reached its hands
   they understood they were the mother and father
   there was no authority above them.

   4.The Clearing

   Gradually, over many years,
   the fur disappeared from their bodies
   until they stood in the bright light
   strange to one another.
   Nothing was as before.
   Their hands trembled, seeking
   the familiar.

   Nor could they keep their eyes
   from the white flesh
   on which wounds would show clearly
   like words on a page.

   And from the meaningless browns and greens
   at last God arose, His great shadow
   darkening the sleeping bodies of His children,
   and leapt into heaven.

   How beautiful it must have been,
   the earth, that first time
   seen from the air.





假桔子
   
   (选自 THE TRIUMPH OF ACHILLES (1985) )
   作者:(美)露易丝.格丽克(Louise Glück)
   译者:剑郭琴符
   
   阿喀琉斯的胜利(1985)
   
   致查尔斯.克莱.达尔伯格
   
   潮湿草地上的第一朵花---
   哦,我的身体,你只被给予
   一个任务,为什么
   你不重复它?
   
   “但是,如有些人所说,……他的痛苦只是一种表象,那我为什么是囚徒,为什么我渴望与野兽搏斗?”
   ---伊格纳提乌斯
   
   “乔伊开始分辨善恶了。不管是谁做了这件事,他都决心在大地上过着人类的生活。”
   ---布鲁诺.贝特尔海姆
   
   第一部
   
   假桔子
   
   不是月亮,我告诉你。
   正是这些花
   照亮了院子。
   
   我憎恨它们。
   我憎恨它们,就像我憎恨性,
   男人的嘴
   封着我的嘴,男人
   瘫痪的身体---
   
   总是逃避的哭声,
   低沉的,耻辱的
   结合的前提---
   
   今晚,我在脑海里
   听到了这个问题和追求的答案
   融合在一个声音里
   增长再增长,然后
   分裂成旧的自我,
   疲惫的对立。你看到了吗?
   我们被愚弄了。
   假桔子的香味
   穿过窗户飘流。
   
   我该怎么休息?
   我怎么能满足
   当世界上还有
   那种味道?
   ---
   伊格纳提乌斯(799—877) 曾任君士坦丁堡牧首.
   布鲁诺•贝特尔海姆(Bruno Bettelheim ,1903.08. 28-1990.03.13) 美国心理学家。生于奥地利,并在那里开始其精神分析医生的生涯。对儿童孤独症的心理障碍尤感兴趣,曾在家长期照料一患孤独症的女孩,第二次世界大战期间中断。1943年发表了闻名世界的论文《极端情境中的个人和群体行为》,论述了集中营生活对人的影响。






THE TRIUMPH OF ACHILLES (1985)
   
   TO CHARLES CLAY DAHLBERG
   
   First blossom in the wet grass---
   O my body, you were given
   only the one task, why
   will you not repeat it?
   
   “But if, as some say,…his suffering was only an appearance, then why am I a prisoner, and why do I long to fight with the wild beasts?”
   ---IGNATIUS
   
   “Joey was beginning to know good from evil. And whoever does that is committed to live a human existence on earth. ”
   ---BRUNO BETTELHEIM
   
   I
   
   Mock Orange
   
   It is not the moon, I tell you.
   It is these flowers
   lighting the yard.
   I hate them.
   I hate them as I hate sex,
   the man’s mouth
   sealing my mouth, the man's
   paralyzing body---
   
   and the cry that always escapes,
   the low, humiliating
   premise of union---
   
   In my mind tonight
   I hear the question and pursuing answer
   fused in one sound
   that mounts and mounts and then
   is split into the old selves,
   the tired antagonisms. Do you see?
   We were made fools of.
   And the scent of mock orange
   drifts through the window.
   
   How can I rest?
   How can I be content
   when there is still
   that odor in the world?

 楼主| 发表于 2020-10-22 16:16:02 | 显示全部楼层


  
变形记
   
   (选自 THE TRIUMPH OF ACHILLES (1985) )
   作者:(美)露易丝.格丽克(Louise Glück)
   译者:剑郭琴符
   
   1.夜晚
   
   死亡天使
   在我父亲的床上低飞。
   只有我妈妈看见了。她和我父亲
   独自在房间。
   
   她俯身去摸
   他的手,他的额头。她
   如此习惯于母爱
   现在她抚摸他的身体
   就像抚摸其他孩子的身体,
   先是轻轻地,然后
   习惯于痛苦。
   
   没什么不同。
   甚至肺上的斑点
   也一直在那里。
   
   2.变形记
   
   我父亲忘记了我
   在垂死的兴奋中。
   就像一个不吃东西的孩子,
   他什么都不注意。
   
   我坐在他的床边
   而我们周围活着的人
   就像许多树桩。
   
   有一次,有那么最小的
   一瞬间的碎片,我以为
   他又活在当下了;
   然后他看着我
   就像一个盲人
   直视太阳,因为
   对他能做的一切
   都已经发生了。
   
   接着,他满脸通红
   转身离开了合约。
   
   3.献给我父亲
   
   我要过没有你的生活
   就像我曾经学到的,
   过没有妈妈的生活。
   你以为我不记得?
   我花我整个一生努力回忆。
   
   现在,在这么多孤独之后,
   死亡不会吓倒我,
   不是你的,也不是我的。
   这些话,最后一次,
   对我没有力量。我知道
   强烈的爱总会导致悲伤。
   
   仅此一次,你的身体没有吓倒我。
   不时地,在你脸上我运动我的手
   轻轻地,像抹布。
   现在什么能震惊我?我感觉不到
   无法解释的寒冷。
   在你的脸颊上,我的手温暖
   充满柔情。
Metamorphosis
   
   
   1.Night
   
   The angel of death flies
   low over my father’s bed.
   Only my mother sees. She and my father
   are alone in the room.
   
   She bends over him to touch
   his hand, his forehead. She is
   so used to mothering
   that now she strokes his body
   as she would the other children's,
   first gently, then
   inured to suffering.
   
   Nothing is any different.
   Even the spot on the lung
   was always there.
   
   2.Metamorphosis
   
   My father has forgotten me
   in the excitement of dying.
   Like a child who will not eat,
   he takes no notice of anything.
   
   I sit at the edge of his bed
   while the living circle us
   like so many tree stumps.
   
   Once, for the smallest
   fraction of an instant, I thought
   he was alive in the present again;
   then he looked at me
   as a blind man stares
   straight into the sun, since
   whatever it could do to him
   is done already.
   
   Then his flushed face
   turned away from the contract.
   
   3.For My Father
   
   I’m going to live without you
   as I learned once
   to live without my mother.
   You think I don’t remember that?
   I’ve spent my whole life trying to remember.
   
   Now, after so much solitude,
   death doesn't frighten me,
   not yours, not mine either.
   And those words, the last time,
   have no power over me. I know
   intense love always leads to mourning.
   
   For once, your body doesn't frighten me.
   From time to time, I run my hand over your face
   lightly, like a dustcloth.
   What can shock me now? I feel
   no coldness that can't be explained.
   Against your cheek, my hand is warm
   and full of tenderness.
  
沉思相似性
   
   (选自 THE TRIUMPH OF ACHILLES (1985) )
   作者:(美)露易丝.格丽克(Louise Glück)
   译者:剑郭琴符
   
   我出生在公牛的月份,
   一个沉重的月份,
   或一个低垂的,毁灭性的脑袋,
   或者故意失明的月份。所以我知道,在附有阴影的
   草坪之外,那固执的人,不抬头看的人,
   仍然能感觉到被拒绝的世界。这是
   一个体育场,一个尘埃之井。你看着他
   往下看死亡的面具,你知道什么是
   承诺?如果公牛活在
   一个可控的报复行为中,满足于
   在天空中,像你一样,他总是在移动,
   不是出于自愿,而是穿过黑色的田野
   就像砂砾抓住车轮,像闪亮的货物。
Brooding Likeness
   
   
   I was born in the month of the bull,
   the month of heaviness,
   or of the lowered, the destructive head,
   or of purposeful blindness. So I know, beyond the shadowed
   patch of grass, the stubborn one, the one who doesn't look up,
   still senses the rejected world. It is
   a stadium, a well of dust. And you who watch him
   looking down in the face of death, what do you know
   of commitment? If the bull lives
   one controlled act of revenge, be satisfied
   that in the sky, like you, he is always moving,
   not of his own accord but through the black field
   like grit caught on a wheel, like shining freight.
  
流亡
   
   (选自 THE TRIUMPH OF ACHILLES (1985) )
   作者:(美)露易丝.格丽克(Louise Glück)
   译者:剑郭琴符
   
   他没有假装
   是他们中的一员。他们不需要
   诗人、发言人。他看到
   狗的心脏,寄生虫
   运作的嘴唇---
   他自己偏爱
   在小公寓里倾听
   就像人们在博物馆检查相机,
   通过沉默来表达他的承诺:
   没有其他的流亡。
   剩下的是自负;在这血腥的街道,
   那个我,那冒名顶替者---
   他在那儿,着迷于革命,
   在他自己的城市,
   每天爬木楼梯
   那不是一条路
   但却是必要的重复
   二十年了
   不为他看到的东西
   作诗。他也没有被剥夺
   伟大的成就。在他心目中,
   没有任何强烈抗议,不把他的选择
   等同于他们的监禁
   他也不允许
   礼物被玷污。
Exile
   
   
   He did not pretend
   to be one of them. They did not require
   a poet, a spokesman. He saw
   the dog's heart, the working
   lips of the parasite---
   He himself preferred
   to listen in the small apartments
   as a man would check his camera at the museum,
   to express his commitment through silence:
   there is no other exile.
   The rest is egotism; in the bloody street,
   the I, the impostor---
   He was there, obsessed with revolution,
   in his own city,
   daily climbing the wooden stairs
   that were not a path
   but necessary repetitions
   and for twenty years
   making no poetry
   of what he saw. nor did he forfeit
   great achievement. In his mind,
   there could be no outcry that did not equate
   his choice with their imprisonment
   and he would not allow
   the gift to be tainted.

 楼主| 发表于 2020-10-23 16:05:05 | 显示全部楼层
  
冬天的早晨
   
   (选自 THE TRIUMPH OF ACHILLES (1985) )
   作者:(美)露易丝.格丽克(Louise Glück)
   译者:剑郭琴符
   
   1.
   
   今天,当我醒来时,我问自己
   为什么基督死了?谁知道
   这个问题的含义?
   
   那是一个冬天的早晨,难以置信的冷。
   于是思想继续,
   从每一个问题引出
   另一个问题,就像树枝上的树枝,
   就像黑色树干上的树枝。
   
   2
   
   在这样的时候
   一个年轻的女人穿过沙漠的定居点
   既不向前看,也不向后看,
   完美镇静地坐在那只疲惫的动物身上
   就像孩子动着,仍然密闭在深深的依恋中---
   丈夫稍微走在前面,年纪较大,不相称;
   逐渐地,骡子蹒跚着,道路在黑暗中
   变得艰难,尽管它们坚持
   在一个像我们这样的世界里,不是由人统治
   而是由一尊天上的雕像统治---
   
   3.
   
   在代表人类的
   人群中,远古时代
   迷失的公民,
   
   被侮辱的尸体
   像罪犯一样被抬在十字架上
   在耶路撒冷,闪闪发光的城市上空
   公开死去
   
   成群结队的
   鸟儿环绕尸体,不偏爱
   这种形式忽略别的
   
   因为男人们都相似,
   被空气击败,
   
   然而在空中
   鸟的身体变成了一面旗帜:
   
   但需要的教训
   是另一个教训。
   
   4
   
   在不可信赖的春季
   他被看见
   在我们中间移动
   
   在绿色的朱迪亚,覆盖着生命的面纱,
   在橄榄树之间,在被春天模糊的
   许多形状中,
   
   停下来吃饭休息,在显著的需要中,
   在一千朵鲜花中,
   有的种着,有的随风飘散,
   
   像所有的人一样,在地球上
   寻求认可,
   于是他对门徒说话
   
   用男人的声音,举起他那完好的手:
   是风在说话吗?
   或者抚摸玛丽的头发,直到她抬起眼睛
   
   不再被伤害
   被他的冷淡,被他对肉体的不必要的
   破坏,而这正是她的满足---
   
   这不是太阳。
   这就是在光的茧中的基督:
   所以他们发誓。还有别的见证人
   虽然他们都是瞎子,
   他们都被爱左右---
   
   5
   
   这里冬天很长。
   路是深灰色的,枫树是灰色的,用苔藓镀银,
   太阳低垂在地平线,
   蓝中带白;日落时,鲜艳的橙红色。
   
   当我闭上眼睛,它就消失了。
   当我睁开眼睛,它又出现了。
   外面,春雨,一阵脉搏,窗户上的一片薄膜。
   
   突然是夏天,所有令人费解的水果和阳光。
  
  
  
Winter Morning
   
   
   1.
   
   Today, when I woke up, I asked myself
   why did Christ die? Who knows
   the meaning of such questions?
   
   It was a winter morning, unbelievably cold.
   So the thoughts went on,
   from each question came
   another question, like a twig from a branch,
   like a branch from a black trunk.
   
   2.
   
   At a time like this
   a young woman traveled through the desert settlements
   looking neither forward nor backward,
   sitting in perfect composure on the tired animal
   as the child stirred, still sealed in its profound attachment---
   The husband walked slightly ahead, older, out of place;
   increasingly, the mule stumbled, the path becoming
   difficult in darkness, though they persisted
   in a world like our world, not ruled
   by man but by a statue in heaven---
   
   3.
   
   Above the crowds representing
   humankind, the lost
   citizens of a remote time,
   
   the insulted body
   raised on a cross like a criminal
   to die publicly
   above Jerusalem, the shimmering city
   
   while in great flocks
   birds circled the body, not partial
   to this form over the others
   
   since men were all alike,
   defeated by the air,
   
   whereas in air
   the body of a bird becomes a banner:
   
   But the lesson that was needed
   was another lesson.
   
   4.
   
   In untrustworthy springtime
   he was seen moving
   among us like one of us
   
   in green Judea, covered with the veil of life,
   among the olive trees, among the many shapes
   blurred by spring,
   
   stopping to eat and rest, in obvious need,
   among the thousand flowers,
   some planted, some distributed by wind,
   
   like all men, seeking
   recognition on earth,
   so that he spoke to the disciples
   
   in a man's voice, lifting his intact hand:
   was it the wind that spoke?
   Or stroked Mary's hair, until she raised her eyes
   
   no longer wounded
   by his coldness, by his needless destruction
   of the flesh which was her fulfillment---
   
   This was not the sun.
   This was Christ in his cocoon of light:
   so they swore. And there were other witnesses
   though they were all blind,
   they were all swayed by love---
   
   5.
   
   Winters are long here.
   The road a dark gray, the maples gray, silvered with lichen,
   and the sun low on the horizon,
   white on blue; at sunset, vivid orange-red.
   
   When I shut my eyes, it vanishes.
   When I open my eyes, it reappears.
   Outside, spring rain, a pulse, a film on the window.
   
   And suddenly it is summer, all puzzling fruit and light.
  
  
  
  
坐着的身影
   
   (选自 THE TRIUMPH OF ACHILLES (1985) )
   作者:(美)露易丝.格丽克(Louise Glück)
   译者:剑郭琴符
   
   仿佛你是个在轮椅中的人,
   你的腿在膝盖处被砍断。
   但我想让你走路。
   我想让我们像情人一样走路,
   在夏日的傍晚手挽着手,
   我如此强烈地相信这种规划
   以至于我不得不说,我不得不强迫你站起来。
   你为什么让我说话?
   我接受了你的沉默,就像我接受你脸上的痛苦,
   作为努力移动的一部分---
   我似乎永远站着,伸出我的手。
   一直以来,你无法治愈自己
   就像我无法接受我所看到的一样。
  
  
  
Seated Figure
   
   
   It was as though you were a man in a wheelchair,
   your legs cut off at the knee.
   But I wanted you to walk.
   I wanted us to walk like lovers,
   arm in arm in the summer evening,
   and believed so powerfully in that projection
   that I had to speak, I had to press you to stand.
   Why did you let me speak?
   I took your silence as I took the anguish in your face,
   as part of the effort to move---
   It seemed I stood forever, holding out my hand.
   And all that time, you could no more heal yourself
   than I could accept what I saw.
  
  
  
  
神话片段
   
   (选自 THE TRIUMPH OF ACHILLES (1985) )
   作者:(美)露易丝.格丽克(Louise Glück)
   译者:剑郭琴符
   
   当严厉的上帝
   带着他的礼物走近我
   我的恐惧使他着魔
   于是他更快地跑过
   湿漉漉的草地,如他所坚持的那样,
   赞美我。我在赞美中
   看见囚禁。抵抗七弦琴,
   在海中我乞求我父亲
   救我。当
   上帝降临,我不在任何地方,
   我永远在一棵树上。读者,
   怜悯阿波罗:在水边,
   我转身离开他,我召唤
   我无形的父亲,当
   我僵硬在上帝的双臂中,
   他包含的爱
   我父亲在水里
   没有任何其他迹象。
  
  
  
Mythic Fragment
   
   
   When the stern god
   approached me with his gift
   my fear enchanted him
   so that he ran more quickly
   through the wet grass, as he insisted,
   to praise me. I saw captivity
   in praise; against the lyre,
   I begged my father in the sea
   to save me. When
   the god arrived, I was nowhere,
   I was in a tree forever. Reader,
   pity Apollo: at the water’s edge,
   I turned from him, I summoned
   my invisible father---as
   I stiffened in the god's arms,
   of his encompassing love
   my father made
   no other sign from the water.
   
  
  
  
  
风信子
   
   (选自 THE TRIUMPH OF ACHILLES (1985) )
   作者:(美)露易丝.格丽克(Louise Glück)
   译者:剑郭琴符
   
   1.
   
   这是花的一种态度,像一根棍子
   站在人行道上;可怜的被杀死的男孩,
   这是向众神
   表示感谢的一种方式吗?白色
   带着彩色的心,高大的花朵
   在你四周摇曳,所有别的男孩,
   在寒冷的春天,就像紫罗兰开放。
   
   2.
   
   古代没有花
   只有男孩的身体,苍白,完美的想象。
   于是众神因渴望而沉入人形。
   在田野里,在柳树丛中,
   阿波罗送朝臣们离开。
   
   3.
   
   从伤口的血里
   一朵花跳出,像百合花,比
   推罗的紫色更灿烂。
   后来神哭了:他生死攸关的悲痛
   淹没了大地。
   
   4.
   
   美死了:那是创造的
   源泉。在树圈外,
   朝臣们可以听到
   鸽子的叫声,传递着
   它的制服,它与生俱来的悲伤---
   他们站着倾听,在沙沙作响的柳树中。
   这是神的哀歌吗?
   他们仔细听着。很短一段时间
   所有的声音都很悲伤。
   
   5
   
   没有别的不朽:
   在寒冷的春天,紫色的紫罗兰开放。
   然而,心是黑色的,
   它的暴力坦率地暴露。
   或者它不是中心的
   心脏,而是别的词语?
   现在有人向它们弯腰,
   意味着收集它们---
   
   6
   
   他们不能永远
   在流放中等待。
   穿过闪闪发光的小树林
   朝臣们奔跑
   喊着他们
   同伴的名字
   越过鸟儿的喧哗,
   越过柳树漫无目的的悲伤。
   他们哭到深夜,
   他们清澈的眼泪
   没有改变世俗的色彩。
  
  
  
Hyacinth
   
   
   1.
   
   Is that an attitude for a flower, to stand
   like a club at the walk; poor slain boy,
   is that a way to show
   gratitude to the gods? White
   with colored hearts, the tall flowers
   sway around you, all the other boys,
   in the cold spring, as the violets open.
   
   2.
   
   There were no flowers in antiquity
   but boys' bodies, pale, perfectly imagined.
   So the gods sank to human shape with longing.
   In the field, in the willow grove,
   Apollo sent the courtiers away.
   
   3.
   
   And from the blood of the wound
   a flower sprang, lilylike, more brilliant
   than the purples of Tyre.
   Then the god wept: his vital grief
   flooded the earth.
   
   4.
   
   Beauty dies: that is the source
   of creation. Outside the ring of trees
   the courtiers could hear
   the dove’s call transmit
   its uniform, its inborn sorrow---
   They stood listening, among the rustling willows.
   Was this the god's lament?
   They listened carefully. And for a short time
   all sound was sad.
   
   5.
   
   There is no other immortality:
   in the cold spring, the purple violets open.
   And yet, the heart is black,
   there is its violence frankly exposed.
   Or is it not the heart
   at the center but some other word?
   And now someone is bending over them,
   meaning to gather them---
   
   6.
   
   They could not wait
   in exile forever.
   Through the glittering grove
   the courtiers ran
   calling the name
   of their companion
   over the birds’ noise,
   over the willows' aimless sadness.
   Well into the night they wept,
   their clear tears
   altering no earthly color.
  
  
  
  
阿喀琉斯的胜利
   
   (选自 THE TRIUMPH OF ACHILLES (1985) )
   作者:(美)露易丝.格丽克(Louise Glück)
   译者:剑郭琴符
   
   在普特洛克勒斯的故事中
   没有人幸存,甚至几乎是一个神的
   阿喀琉斯。
   普特洛克勒斯和他很像,他们
   穿着同样的盔甲。
   
   在这些友谊中,总是
   一个服务于另一个,一个比另一个少:
   等级制度
   总是显而易见的,尽管传说
   不能相信---
   他们的源头是幸存者,
   被遗弃的那一个。
   
   与这次失败相比
   希腊战舰失火算什么?
   
   在他的帐篷里,阿喀琉斯
   用他的整个生命悲伤
   众神看见
   
   他是一个已经死了的人,爱的
   一部分,凡人
   一部分的牺牲品。
  
  
  
The Triumph of Achilles
   
   
   In the story of Patroclus
   no one survives, not even Achilles
   who was nearly a god.
   Patroclus resembled him; they wore
   the same armor.
   
   Always in these friendships
   one serves the other, one is less than the other:
   the hierarchy
   is always apparent, though the legends
   cannot be trusted---
   their source is the survivor,
   the one who has been abandoned.
   
   What were the Greek ships on fire
   compared to this loss?
   
   In his tent, Achilles
   grieved with his whole being
   and the gods saw
   
   he was a man already dead, a victim
   of the part that loved,
   the part that was mortal.
  
  
  
  
篮子
   
   (选自 THE TRIUMPH OF ACHILLES (1985) )
   作者:(美)露易丝.格丽克(Louise Glück)
   译者:剑郭琴符
   
   1.
   
   这是一件好事,
   在市场,
   老妇人试图在莴苣中
   做出决定,
   不偏不倚,掂量头部,
   检查
   外面的叶子,甚至
   闻了闻,想抓住
   一股泥土的
   味道,其一头上,
   有些痕迹留下---不是
   物质,而是
   残渣---所以
   她更喜欢它
   而不是别的,更
   疏远的头,它
   最新鲜:她轻快地
   向小贩的妻子点头,
   让人知道她这偏好,
   是个老妇人,但
   判断力充沛。
   
   2
   
   世界的循环---
   在它的中间,一只狗
   坐在喷泉的边缘。
   孩子们在那里玩耍,
   从村里来来往往,
   停下来迎接他,冲动的
   失去玩耍的兴趣,
   在一个用蓝色陶器碎片
   装饰的小木棍村里;
   他们蹲在狗旁边
   它在炎热的尘土中伸展:
   阳光的箭
   围绕着他跳舞。
   现在,在另一个领域,
   一些重大事件即将结束。
   三三两两,大胆地
   挥舞着他们的球衣,
   运动员们闲逛着,散落
   红蓝、蓝和耀眼紫色
   在平原的地面上,
   在琐碎的表面上。
   
   3.
   
   主啊,给了我
   孤独,我看着
   太阳下落:
   市场上
   摊位空荡荡,剩下的孩子们
   在喷泉边争吵---
   但即使晚上,看不见的时候,
   太阳的火焰
   仍然在加热人行道。
   这就是为什么,地球上
   会有这么多生命出现,
   因为太阳在其外围
   保持稳定的温暖。
   这是否暗示了你的意思:
   游戏重新开始,
   在喷泉的婴儿神
   下面的尘土中;
   没有固定的东西,
   没有死亡的保证---
   
   4
   
   我把我的篮子带到厚颜无耻的市场
   去集会的地方。
   我问你,一个人能
   承受多少美?它比
   丑陋更沉重,即使
   空虚的负担,比起它也什么都不是。
   一箱箱鸡蛋,木瓜,一袋袋黄色的柠檬---
   我不是个强壮的女人。不容易啊
   想要这么多,背着
   这么重的篮子走,不是
   弯弯的芦苇,就是柳树。
  
  
  
Baskets
   
   1.
   
   It is a good thing,
   in the marketplace
   the old woman trying to decide
   among the lettuces,
   impartial, weighing the heads,
   examining
   the outer leaves, even
   sniffing them to catch
   a scent of earth
   of which, on one head,
   some trace remains---not
   the substance but
   the residue---so
   she prefers it to
   the other, more
   estranged heads, it
   being freshest: nodding
   briskly at the vendor’s wife,
   she makes this preference known,
   an old woman, yet
   vigorous in judgment.
   
   2.
   
   The circle of the world---
   in its midst, a dog
   sits at the edge of the fountain.
   The children playing there,
   coming and going from the village,
   pause to greet him, the impulsive
   losing interest in play,
   in the little village of sticks
   adorned with blue fragments of pottery;
   they squat beside the dog
   who stretches in the hot dust:
   arrows of sunlight
   dance around him.
   Now, in the field beyond,
   some great event is ending.
   In twos and threes, boldly
   swinging their shirts,
   the athletes stroll away, scattering
   red and blue, blue and dazzling purple
   over the plain ground,
   over the trivial surface.
   
   3.
   
   Lord, who gave me
   my solitude, I watch
   the sun descending:
   in the marketplace
   the stalls empty, the remaining children
   bicker at the fountain---
   But even at night, when it can't be seen,
   the flame of the sun
   still heats the pavements.
   That's why, on earth,
   so much life's sprung up,
   because the sun maintains
   steady warmth at its periphery.
   Does this suggest your meaning:
   that the game resumes,
   in the dust beneath
   the infant god of the fountain;
   there is nothing fixed,
   there is no assurance of death---
   
   4.
   
   I take my basket to the brazen market,
   to the gathering place.
   I ask you, how much beauty
   can a person bear? It is
   heavier than ugliness, even the burden
   of emptiness is nothing beside it.
   Crates of eggs, papaya, sacks of yellow lemons---
   I am not a strong woman. It isn't easy
   to want so much, to walk
   with such a heavy basket, either
   bent reed, or willow.
  
  
  
  
解放
   
   (选自 THE TRIUMPH OF ACHILLES (1985) )
   作者:(美)露易丝.格丽克(Louise Glück)
   译者:剑郭琴符
   
   我的头脑乌云密布,
   我再也不能打猎。
   我把枪放在兔子的脚印上。
   
   就好像我变成了一个
   无法决定
   是逃跑还是静止的生物
   因此被困在追击者的眼睛里---
   
   我第一次知道
   那些眼睛必须是空白的
   因为不可能
   同时既杀又质疑。
   
   然后快门关上,
   兔子自由了。他飞过
   空旷的森林
   
   那是我作为
   受害者的一部分。
   只有受害者才有命运。
   
   而猎人,相信
   任何挣扎
   都乞求被撕碎:
   
   那部分是瘫痪的。
  
  
  
Liberation
   
   
   My mind is clouded,
   I cannot hunt anymore.
   I lay my gun over the tracks of the rabbit.
   
   It was as though I became that creature
   who could not decide
   whether to flee or be still
   and so was trapped in the pursuer’s eyes---
   
   And for the first time I knew
   those eyes have to be blank
   because it is impossible
   to kill and question at the same time.
   
   Then the shutter snapped,
   the rabbit went free. He flew
   through the empty forest
   
   that part of me
   that was the victim.
   Only victims have a destiny.
   
   And the hunter, who believed
   whatever struggles
   begs to be torn apart:
   
   that part is paralyzed.
   
  
  

 楼主| 发表于 2020-10-24 17:34:37 | 显示全部楼层


拥抱
   
   (选自 THE TRIUMPH OF ACHILLES (1985) )
   作者:(美)露易丝.格丽克(Louise Glück)
   译者:剑郭琴符
   
   第二部
   
   拥抱
   
   她教了他众神。是在教学吗?他继续
   憎恨他们,但在那长长的晚上的痴迷谈话中,
   当他听着时,他们变成了现实。不是他们变了。
   他们从来没有变得像天生的人类。
   在火光下,他看着她的脸。
   但是她不会被感动,她拒绝了
   最初的需要。然后在黑暗中,他会领她回来---
   在树上,当所有的野性都浮出水面
   这座城市显得格外壮观。





II
   
   
   The Embrace//
   
   She taught him the gods. Was it teaching? He went on
   hating them, but in the long evenings of obsessive talk,
   as he listened, they became real. Not that they changed.
   They never came to seem innately human.
   In the firelight, he watched her face.
   But she would not be touched; she had rejected
   the original need. Then in the darkness he would lead her back---
   above the trees, the city rose in a kind of splendor
   as all that is wild comes to the surface.

马拉松
   
   (选自 THE TRIUMPH OF ACHILLES (1985) )
   作者:(美)露易丝.格丽克(Louise Glück)
   译者:剑郭琴符
   
   1.最后的信
   
   哭着,站着不动---然后又走出到了花园。
   在田野里,蒲公英的白头排成一排排的圣徒,
   时而弯腰,时而敬畏地僵硬——
   在边缘,一只野兔:他的眼睛定住,吓坏了。
   安静。成群的铃铛---
   
   不假思索地,我跪在草地上,好像有人想祈祷。
   当我试图再次站起来,我无法动弹,
   我的腿完全僵硬了。悲伤会像那样改变你吗?
   透过桦树,我可以看到池塘。
   太阳在水中划出一个个白色的小洞。
   
   我终于站起来,向下走到池塘边。
   我站在那里,拂去裙子上的草,凝视自己,
   就像一个女孩跟随她的初恋情人
   在浴室的镜子前慢慢地转身,赤裸,寻找着一个标志。
   但是女人的裸体总是一种姿势。
   我没有变形。我永远不会自由。
   
   2.河之歌
   
   一旦我们幸福,我们就没有回忆。
   所有这些重复,两次发生过的没有。
   我们总是平行着一条河散步
   没有前进的感觉
   尽管我们对面的树
   有时是桦树,有时是柏树---
   天空是蓝色的,是蓝色玻璃的矩阵。
   
   而在河里,一切都在流逝---
   几片树叶,一艘涂成红色和白色的童船,
   帆被水弄脏---
   当它们经过,在表面我们可以看到我们自己;
   我们似乎在漂泊
   分离或在一起,因为这条河
   永远连接着我们,尽管前面
   还有其他夫妇,在挑选纪念品。
   
   3.相遇
   
   你来到床边
   坐在那里盯着我。
   然后你吻了我---我觉得
   额头上有热蜡。
   我想让它留下一个印记:
   就是我怎么知道我爱你。
   因为我想被烧,被踩踏,
   以拥有最后的某些东西---
   我在我头顶拉动着长袍;
   红晕覆盖我的脸和肩膀。
   它会奔跑,沿着它的轨迹,火焰的轨迹,
   在额头上,两眼之间,放上一枚冰冷的硬币。
   你躺在我旁边,你的手抚摸着我的脸,
   似乎你也感觉到了它---
   那么,你一定知道,我多么想要你。
   我们永远都知道,你和我。
   证据就是我的身体。
   
   4.障碍之歌
   
   当我的爱人抚摸我,我的身体感觉
   就像冰川在地球上的第一次运动,
   当冰移动时,逐出巨大的卵石,庄严的
   岩石的山丘:于是,在森林里,连根拔起的树木
   变成分离的四肢的海洋---
   而在有城市的地方,这些也溶解了,
   叹息的花园,所有的年轻女孩
   在院子里吃巧克力,慢慢地
   散开彩色的箔纸:然后,城市所在的地方,
   矿石,发掘的奥秘:于是我看到
   冰比岩石更强大,比纯粹的抵抗力更强大---
   那么对我们来说,在它的道路上,时间不会流逝,
   甚至一个小时也不会。
   
   5.夜曲
   
   抬头看看灯笼的光。
   你没看见吗?黑暗的平静
   是天国的恐怖。
   
   我们分开太久,太痛苦的分离。
   你怎能忍受梦想,
   放弃注视?我想你一定在做梦,
   你的脸上充满了温和的期待。
   
   我需要唤醒你,提醒你没有未来。
   这就是我们自由的原因。现在我的一些弱点
   已经被永远治愈,所以我不必
   闭上眼睛,回去,改正---
   
   海滩静止;大海,被它多余的生命净化,
   不透明,岩石般。在土堆,在植物丛,
   海鸟睡在码头。燕鸥,刺客---
   
   你累了,我能看出来。
   我们都累了,演了一出好戏。
   就连我们的手都是冰冷的,就像引火柴。
   我们的衣服在沙滩上散落;够奇怪的是,
   它们从未化为灰烬。
   
   我要告诉你我学到了什么,我现在知道
   梦想家碰到了什么。
   当他们改变时,他们感觉不到。有一天
   他们醒了,他们穿衣服,他们老了。
   
   今晚我不怕
   体会革命。当激情给你那宁静,
   你怎么能想睡觉?
   今晚你和我一样,幸运者中的一个。
   你会得到你想要的。你会得到你的遗忘。
   
   6.开始
   
   我来到一个陌生的城市,没有财产:
   在梦中,那是你的城市,我在寻找你。
   然后我迷路了,在一条排着水果摊的黑暗街道上。
   
   只有一种水果:血橙。
   市场展示它们,漂亮的展示---
   不然它们怎么能竞争?每一种安排都有,在其中心
   一个水果,切开。
   
   然后我在林荫大道上,在灿烂的阳光下。
   我在跑步,跑步很容易,因为我什么都没有。
   在远处,我能看见你的房子;一个女人跪在院子里。
   到处都是玫瑰,在波浪中,它们爬上高高的棚架。
   
   后来开始的是,对你的爱
   变成了对结构的渴望:我能听到
   那个女人以同样的善意呼唤我,知道
   我不会再寻找你---
   
   就这样解决了:我可以在那里度过童年。
   这就意味着永远孤独。
   
   7.第一次告别
   
   现在你可以加入别人,
   身体不让我的身体休息,
   回到这个世界,到大街,到公园
   整齐的深处,就像
   永远不会变黑的大终点站:一个陌生人
   在一百个房间里等着你。返回它们,
   增长和极限:靠近中心的玫瑰,
   你看到她剥一个橘子
   染色的外皮落在她盘子里的花瓣上。这
   就是征服,它的活动模式
   是解剖:强迫光
   照在刀上。你迟早会
   开始梦见我。我不羡慕你的
   那些梦。我能想象我的脸是什么样子,
   像那样燃烧,被欲望折磨---垂下
   你发明的脸---嘴巴如何背叛
   爱人孤独的贪婪
   当它放大然后毁灭:
   我不羡慕你的访问。
   躺在那里的女人们---不怜悯她们,
   她们转向你的方式,她们
   挣扎着让人看得见的方式。她们
   在床上为你准备一个地方,一个白色的挖掘。
   然后是圣餐:你们的身体拼凑在一起,
   搅拌,搅拌,直到热气完全离开它们---
   迟早你会叫我的名字,
   为失去,错误而哭泣
   为承认而哭泣,为对某个
   存在于记忆中的人囚禁的需求而哭泣:没有声音
   传到那个王国。
   
   8.无形边界之歌
   
   昨晚我梦见我们在威尼斯;
   今天,我们在威尼斯。现在,躺在这里,
   我想我的梦想没有界限,
   没有什么我们不分享。
   所以没有什么可以描述。我们可以
   和任何人互换,在欢乐中
   变成沉默的一对。
   
   那么,为什么我们尊崇清晰,
   说话,最后,只有彼此的名字,
   像现在这样,甚至不说完整的词,
   只有元音?
   
   最后,这就是我们所渴望的,
   这样毫无区别地躺在明亮的光线下---
   我们会留下
   精确的记录。
   
   9.马拉松
   
   我不想听到
   他们两个在说话。
   但是我能感火炬的光
   停止颤抖,好像它被
   放在桌子上一样。我不会听到
   一个对另一个说
   怎样最好地唤醒我,
   用什么言辞,什么手势,
   也不想听到对我身体的描述,
   它如何反应,它
   不会做什么。我转过背。
   
   我研究声音,很快就把
   第一个,它更深,更近,
   和替代者的声音区分开了。
   据我所知的一切,这种事
   每天晚上都会发生:有人吵醒我,然后
   第一个教第二个。
   后来发生的事情
   发生在远离世界的地方,在一个
   只有梦才重要的深度
   与任何一个灵魂的联系
   都毫无意义;你扔掉它。
Marathon
   
   1.Last Letter
   
   Weeping, standing still---then going out again into the garden.
   In the field, white heads of dandelions making rows of saints,
   now bending, now stiff with awe---
   and at the edge, a hare: his eyes fixed, terrified.
   Silence. Herds of bells---
   
   Without thinking, I knelt in the grass, like someone meaning to pray.
   When I tried to stand again, I couldn't move,
   my legs were utterly rigid. Does grief change you like that?
   Through the birches, I could see the pond.
   The sun was cutting small white holes in the water.
   
   I got up finally; I walked down to the pond.
   I stood there, brushing the grass from my skirt, watching myself,
   like a girl after her first lover
   turning slowly at the bathroom mirror, naked, looking for a sign.
   But nakedness in women is always a pose.
   I was not transfigured. I would never be free.
   
   2.Song of the River
   
   Once we were happy, we had no memories.
   For all the repetition, nothing happened twice.
   We were always walking parallel to a river
   with no sense of progression
   though the trees across from us
   were sometimes birch, sometimes cypress---
   the sky was blue, a matrix of blue glass.
   
   While, in the river, things were going by---
   a few leaves, a child’s boat painted red and white,
   its sail stained by the water---
   As they passed, on the surface we could see ourselves;
   we seemed to drift
   apart and together, as the river
   linked us forever, though up ahead
   were other couples, choosing souvenirs.
   
   3.The Encounter
   
   You came to the side of the bed
   and sat staring at me.
   Then you kissed me---I felt
   hot wax on my forehead.
   I wanted it to leave a mark:
   that's how I knew I loved you.
   Because I wanted to be burned, stamped,
   to have something in the end---
   I drew the gown over my head;
   a red flush covered my face and shoulders.
   It will run its course, the course of fire,
   setting a cold coin on the forehead, between the eyes.
   You lay beside me; your hand moved over my face
   as though you had felt it also---
   you must have known, then, how I wanted you.
   We will always know that, you and I.
   The proof will be my body.
   
   4.Song of Obstacles
   
   When my lover touches me, what I feel in my body
   is like the first movement of a glacier over the earth,
   as the ice shifts, dislodging great boulders, hills
   of solemn rock: so, in the forests, the uprooted trees
   become a sea of disconnected limbs---
   And, where there are cities, these dissolve too,
   the sighing gardens, all the young girls
   eating chocolates in the courtyard, slowly
   scattering the colored foil: then, where the city was,
   the ore, the unearthed mysteries: so I see
   that ice is more powerful than rock, than mere resistance---
   Then for us, in its path, time doesn't pass,
   not even an hour.
   
   5.Night Song
   
   Look up into the light of the lantern.
   Don't you see? The calm of darkness
   is the horror of Heaven.
   
   We've been apart too long, too painfully separated.
   How can you bear to dream,
   to give up watching? I think you must be dreaming,
   your face is full of mild expectancy.
   
   I need to wake you, to remind you that there isn’t a future.
   That's why we're free. And now some weakness in me
   has been cured forever, so I'm not compelled
   to close my eyes, to go back, to rectify---
   
   The beach is still; the sea, cleansed of its superfluous life,
   opaque, rocklike. In mounds, in vegetal clusters,
   seabirds sleep on the jetty. Terns, assassins---
   
   You're tired; I can see that.
   We're both tired, we have acted a great drama.
   Even our hands are cold, that were like kindling.
   Our clothes are scattered on the sand; strangely enough,
   they never turned to ashes.
   
   I have to tell you what I've learned, that I know now
   what happens to the dreamers.
   They don't feel it when they change. One day
   they wake, they dress, they are old.
   
   Tonight I'm not afraid
   to feel the revolutions. How can you want sleep
   when passion gives you that peace?
   You're like me tonight, one of the lucky ones.
   You'll get what you want. You'll get your oblivion.
   
   6.The Beginning
   
   I had come to a strange city, without belongings:
   in the dream, it was your city, I was looking for you.
   Then I was lost, on a dark street lined with fruit stands.
   
   There was only one fruit: blood oranges.
   The markets made displays of them, beautiful displays---
   how else could they compete? And each arrangement had, at its center
   one fruit, cut open.
   
   Then I was on a boulevard, in brilliant sunlight.
   I was running; it was easy to run, since I had nothing.
   In the distance, I could see your house; a woman knelt in the yard.
   There were roses everywhere; in waves, they climbed the high trellis.
   
   Then what began as love for you
   became a hunger for structure: I could hear
   the woman call to me in common kindness, knowing
   I wouldn’t ask for you anymore---
   
   So it was settled: I could have a childhood there.
   Which came to mean being always alone.
   
   7.First Goodbye
   
   You can join the others now,
   body that wouldn't let my body rest,
   go back to the world, to avenues, the ordered
   depths of the parks, like great terminals
   that never darken: a stranger’s waiting for you
   in a hundred rooms. Go back to them,
   to increment and limitation: near the centered rose,
   you watch her peel an orange
   so the dyed rind falls in petals on her plate. This
   is mastery, whose active
   mode is dissection: the enforced light
   shines on the blade. Sooner or later
   you'll begin to dream of me. I don't envy you
   those dreams. I can imagine how my face looks,
   burning like that, afflicted with desire---lowered
   face of your invention---how the mouth betrays
   the isolated greed of the lover
   as it magnifies and then destroys:
   I don't envy you that visitation.
   And the women lying there---who wouldn't pity them,
   the way they turn to you, the way
   they struggle to be visible. They make
   a place for you in bed, a white excavation.
   Then the sacrament: your bodies pieced together,
   churning, churning, till the heat leaves them entirely---
   Sooner or later you will call my name,
   cry of loss, mistaken
   cry of recognition, of arrested need
   for someone who exists in memory: no voice
   carries to that kingdom.
   
   8.Song of Invisible Boundaries
   
   Last night I dreamed we were in Venice;
   today, we are in Venice. Now, lying here,
   I think there are no boundaries to my dreams,
   nothing we won’t share.
   So there is nothing to describe. We're interchangeable
   with anyone, in joy
   changed to a mute couple.
   
   Then why did we worship clarity,
   to speak, in the end, only each other's names,
   to speak, as now, not even whole words,
   only vowels?
   
   Finally, this is what we craved,
   this lying in the bright light without distinction---
   we who would leave behind
   exact records.
   
   9.Marathon
   
   I was not meant to hear
   the two of them talking.
   But I could feel the light of the torch
   stop trembling, as though it had been
   set on a table. I was not to hear
   the one say to the other
   how best to arouse me,
   with what words, what gestures,
   nor to hear the description of my body,
   how it responded, what
   it would not do. My back was turned.
   I studied the voices, soon distinguishing
   the first, which was deeper, closer,
   from that of the replacement.
   For all I know, this happens
   every night: somebody waking me, then
   the first teaching the second.
   What happens afterward
   occurs far from the world, at a depth
   where only the dream matters
   and the bond with any one soul
   is meaningless; you throw it away.


 楼主| 发表于 2020-10-24 17:36:19 | 显示全部楼层




夏天
   
   (选自 THE TRIUMPH OF ACHILLES (1985) )
   作者:(美)露易丝.格丽克(Louise Glück)
   译者:剑郭琴符
   
   记得我们最初幸福的日子,
   我们多么强壮,在激情中多么惶惑,
   整天躺着,然后整夜在窄床上,
   躺在那里,也在那里吃东西:那是夏天,
   似乎一切都立即
   成熟。如此炽热我们全身赤裸着躺在那里。
   有时风起了;一棵柳树拂过窗户。
   
   但我们在某种程度上迷失了方向,你没感觉到?
   床就像一只救生艇,我感到漂浮
   离本性越来越远,朝着一个什么也找不到的地方。
   先是太阳,然后是月亮,在碎片中,
   穿过柳树发光。
   任何人都能看到的东西。
   
   然后圆圈闭合了。黑夜慢慢变冷,
   柳树垂下的叶子
   变黄,下落。我们每个人都开始
   一种深深的孤独,虽然我们从来没有说过这一点,
   关于悔恨的缺席。
   我们又是艺术家,我的丈夫。
   我们可以继续旅行。
Summer
   
   
   Remember the days of our first happiness,
   how strong we were, how dazed by passion,
   lying all day, then all night in the narrow bed,
   sleeping there, eating there too: it was summer,
   it seemed everything had ripened
   at once. And so hot we lay completely uncovered.
   Sometimes the wind rose; a willow brushed the window.
   
   But we were lost in a way, didn't you feel that?
   The bed was like a raft; I felt us drifting
   far from our natures, toward a place where we'd discover nothing.
   First the sun, then the moon, in fragments,
   shone through the willow.
   Things anyone could see.
   
   Then the circles closed. Slowly the nights grew cool;
   the pendant leaves of the willow
   yellowed and fell. And in each of us began
   a deep isolation, though we never spoke of this,
   of the absence of regret.
   We were artists again, my husband.
   We could resume the journey.


 楼主| 发表于 2020-10-25 17:41:46 | 显示全部楼层


责备

   (选自 THE TRIUMPH OF ACHILLES (1985) )
   作者:(美)露易丝.格丽克(Louise Glück)
   译者:剑郭琴符

   第三部

责备

   你背叛了我,厄洛斯。
   你送给我
   我的真爱。

   在高山上,你制造了
   他清晰的凝视;
   我的心
   没有你的箭那么硬。

   没有梦想的诗人
   是什么?
   我失眠;我感到
   在我之上真实的肉体,
   意味着让我沉默---
   外面,橄榄树顶的
   黑暗中,
   几颗星星。

   我认为这是一种痛苦的侮辱:
   我宁愿走在
   花园盘绕的小路上,
   走在河边
   闪现着水星的
   滴剂。我喜欢躺在
   河边湿漉漉的草地上,
   逃跑,厄洛斯,
   不公开地,和别的男人在一起,
   但小心翼翼,冷淡地---

   我一生
   都崇拜错误的众神。
   当我看着
   另一边的树木,
   我心中的箭
   就像他们中的一个,
   摇曳而颤抖。










III

   The Reproach

   You have betrayed me, Eros.
   You have sent me
   my true love.

   On a high hill you made
   his clear gaze;
   my heart was not
   so hard as your arrow.

   What is a poet
   without dreams?
   I lie awake; I feel
   actual flesh upon me,
   meaning to silence me---
   Outside, in the blackness
   over the olive trees,
   a few stars.

   I think this is a bitter insult:
   that I prefer to walk
   the coiled paths of the garden,
   to walk beside the river
   glittering with drops
   of mercury. I like to lie
   in the wet grass beside the river,
   running away,Eros,
   not openly, with other men,
   but discreetly, coldly---

   All my life
   I have worshiped the wrong gods.
   When I watch the trees
   on the other side,
   the arrow in my heart
   is like one of them,
   swaying and quivering.





世界末日

   (选自 THE TRIUMPH OF ACHILLES (1985) )
   作者:(美)露易丝.格丽克(Louise Glück)
   译者:剑郭琴符

   1.特拉诺瓦

   一个没有联系的地方---
   那里,在另一个国家,有山
   所以下定决心去发现
   遏制的词语,等等,
   这里有水,这座辉煌城市的延伸。
   至于细节:那儿有,从前,
   一片长着草的斜坡,傍晚或下雨前,
   夏洛莱牛会躺着,它们的许多眼睛
   都粘着旅行者,这里
   有粘土。但却令人惊讶地开花:
   房子旁,山茶花、长春花、被压坏的大量迷迭香---
   在他心中,他又是一个恋人
   喊着“现在,现在”,不局限于
   “一次”或“过去的岁月”。在野茴香里他躺在他的背上。
   但事实上他是一个老人。
   六十年前,他牵着他母亲的手。那天是五月,他的生日。
   他们走在果园里,在连绵不断的礼物里,
   摘着苹果花。然后她想让他注视太阳;
   当它沉入拥有的土地时,他们必须站在一起。
   多么短暂,仿佛等待的一生---
   这颗在海湾上空闪耀的红星
   就是他童年时
   追随他来到这里的全部光芒。

   2.贡品

   在那奇怪的平静时期
   他漫步走下石阶,来到宽阔的港湾:
   他被感动;城市的灯光深深地打动了他
   仿佛大地被给于他
   作为一种敬畏之源---他没有改变的愿望。
   他写过,他建造了他的庙宇。
   因此他证明了牺牲的必要性。
   他靠在栏杆上:在黑暗的海湾,他看到城市的摇曳;
   光的细胞漂浮在水上,它们轻轻摇晃着,被白线握住。
   他身后,在台阶上,他听到一男一女
   在激烈地争吵。
   在一首诗中,他可以把它们一起带来
   就像两个破碎的玩具可以重新连接起来---
   然后声音停止了,取而代之的是叹息声、沙沙声,微弱的声音
   对它们他一无所知
   尽管风不断地
   把它们传送到他站着的地方,
   伴随着它们的夏日的所有气味。

   3.世界末日

   很难描述,它降临,就像它仍然
   在不同的时间对每个人所做的那样。
   独特,可怕---在天空中,神秘的光辉
   代替了人性化的太阳。
   因此,受祝福的人跪下,幸运的人什么都不指望,
   而那些热爱世界的人
   却因痛苦而回到
   依恋之前,也就是
   痛苦的憎恨。现在苦涩的人在孤独中
   得到证实:他们注视着冬日的太阳
   嘲弄地把自己降低在赤裸的大地上,
   让什么也活不成---在这光里
   神接近垂死的人。
   不是真正的神,当然。没有神
   能拯救一个人。



The End of the World   

   1.Terra Nova

   A place without associations---
   Where, in the other country, there were mountains
   so the mind was made to discover
   words for containment, and so on,
   here there was water, an extension of the brilliant city.
   As for detail: where there had been, before,
   nurturing slopes of grass on which, at evening or before rain,
   the Charolais would lie, their many eyes
   affixed to the traveler, here
   there was clay. And yet it blossomed astoundingly:
   beside the house, camellia, periwinkle, rosemary in crushing profusion---
   in his heart, he was a lover again,
   calling now, now, not restricted
   to once or in the old days. He lay on his back in the wild fennel.
   But in fact he was an old man.
   Sixty years ago, he took his mother's hand. It was May, his birthday.
   They were walking in the orchard, in the continuous present,
   gathering apple blossoms. Then she wanted him to watch the sun;
   they had to stand together as it sank in the possessive earth.
   How short it seemed, that lifetime of waiting---
   this red star blazing over the bay
   was all the light of his childhood
   that had followed him here.

   2.The Tribute

   In that period of strange calm
   he wandered down stone steps to the wide harbor:
   he was moved; the lights of the city moved him deeply
   and it seemed the earth was being offered to him
   as a source of awe---he had no wish to change.
   He had written, he had built his temple.
   So he justified a need to sacrifice.
   He leaned against the railing: in the dark bay, he saw the city waver;
   cells of light floated on the water, they rocked gently, held by white threads.
   Behind him, on the steps, he heard a man and woman
   arguing with great intensity.
   In a poem, he could bring them together
   like two pieces of a broken toy that could be joined again---
   Then the voices ceased, replaced by sighs, rustlings, the little sounds
   of which he had no knowledge
   though the wind persisted
   in conveying them to where he stood,
   and with them all the odors of summer.

   3.The End of the World

   It is difficult to describe, coming as it still does
   to each person at a different time.
   Unique, terrible---and in the sky, uncanny brilliance
   substituting for the humanizing sun.
   So the blessed kneel, the lucky who expect nothing,
   while those who loved the world
   are returned by suffering
   to what precedes attachment, namely
   hatred of pain. Now the bitter are confirmed
   in loneliness: they watch the winter sun
   mockingly lower itself over the bare earth,
   making nothing live---in this light
   god approaches the dying.
   Not the true god, of course. There is no god
   who will save one man.






   (选自 THE TRIUMPH OF ACHILLES (1985) )
   作者:(美)露易丝.格丽克(Louise Glück)
   译者:剑郭琴符

   我的学生期待地看着我。
   我向他们解释,艺术的生活是一种
   无休止的劳动的生活。他们的表情
   几乎不变;他们需要多一点
   了解无休止的劳动。
   所以我告诉他们西西弗斯的故事,
   他是如何注定要
   把一块石头推上山,他知道
   这种努力不会有任何结果
   但他会无限期地
   重复。我告诉他们
   在这里面有快乐,在艺术家的生活中,
   一个人逃避
   审判,我说话的时候
   我自己偷偷地推着一块石头,
   狡猾地把它推上陡峭的
   山的表面。我为什么要
   对这些孩子撒谎?他们没有听,
   他们没有被欺骗,他们的手指
   轻敲着木制的桌子---
   因此我收回了
   这个神话;我告诉他们它发生在
   地狱里,艺术家撒谎
   是因为他痴迷于成就,
   他察觉山顶
   是他将永远生活的地方,
   一个即将
   被他的负担转换的地方:带着每一次呼吸,
   我站在山的巅峰上。
   我的双手是自由的。岩石
   把高度添加到山上。



The Mountain


   My students look at me expectantly.
   I explain to them that the life of art is a life
   of endless labor. Their expressions
   hardly change; they need to know
   a little more about endless labor.
   So I tell them the story of Sisyphus,
   how he was doomed to push
   a rock up a mountain, knowing nothing
   would come of this effort
   but that he would repeat it
   indefinitely. I tell them
   there is joy in this, in the artist's life,
   that one eludes
   judgment, and as I speak
   I am secretly pushing a rock myself,
   slyly pushing it up the steep
   face of a mountain. Why do I lie
   to these children? They aren’t listening,
   they aren't deceived, their fingers
   tapping at the wooden desks---
   So I retract
   the myth; I tell them it occurs
   in hell, and that the artist lies
   because he is obsessed with attainment,
   that he perceives the summit
   as that place where he will live forever,
   a place about to be
   transformed by his burden: with every breath,
   I am standing at the top of the mountain.
   Both my hands are free. And the rock has added
   height to the mountain.





寓言

   (选自 THE TRIUMPH OF ACHILLES (1985) )
   作者:(美)露易丝.格丽克(Louise Glück)
   译者:剑郭琴符

   那是一个英雄时代。
   所以这个小男孩,这个无名小卒,
   从一个平原到另一个开始他的征途,
   在山坡上冰冷、不明的岩石中
   捡起一块小石头。这是一个愉快的日子。
   在他的脚下,标准的植被,几朵白花
   像星星一样,毛茸茸的叶子,鼠尾草般的绿色:
   山脚下是尸体。

   谁是敌人?是谁分发了
   犹太人紧凑的尸体
   在这空前的寂静中?伪装在泥土中,
   散乱的军队看见野兽,歌利亚,
   高耸在幼稚的牧羊人头顶。
   他们闭上眼睛。地球所有水平面
   变成大海的破碎表面,那次坠落
   如此具有破坏性。在随后的尘土中,大卫
   举起他的手:那么这就是他的,寂静的,
   完整的王国——

   犹太同胞,策划一个英雄的旅程
   就是追溯一座山:从英雄到神,从神到统治者。
   在悬崖,我们不想听到的那一刻---
   石头不见了,现在
   手成了武器。

   在宫殿的屋顶,大卫王凝视着
   穿过闪耀的耶路撒冷
   进入拔示巴的脸,感受到
   他自己放大的欲望。在内心,他什么也感觉不到。
   她就像一盆水里的花。在他的头上,
   云在移动。他想到他已经实现了
   他所能梦想的一切。



A Parable


   It was an epoch of heroes.
   So this young boy, this nobody,
   making his way from one plain to another,
   picks up a small stone among the cold, unspecified
   rocks of the hillside. It is a pleasant day.
   At his feet, normal vegetation, the few white flowers
   like stars, the leaves woolly, sage-green:
   at the bottom of the hill are corpses.

   Who is the enemy? Who has distributed
   the compact bodies of the Jews
   in this unprecedented silence? Disguised in dirt,
   the scattered army sees the beast, Goliath,
   towering above the childish shepherd.
   They shut their eyes. And all the level earth
   becomes the shattered surface of a sea, so disruptive
   is that fall. In the ensuing dust, David
   lifts his hand: then it is his, the hushed,
   completed kingdom---

   Fellow Jews, to plot a hero’s journey
   is to trace a mountain: hero to god, god to ruler.
   At the precipice, the moment we don't want to hear about---
   the stone is gone; now
   the hand is the weapon.

   On the palace roof, King David stares across
   the shining city of Jerusalem
   into the face of Bathsheba and perceives
   his own amplified desire. At heart, he feels nothing.
   She is like a flower in a tub of water. Above his head,
   the clouds move. And it comes to him he has attained
   all he is capable of dreaming.





白昼无夜

   (选自 THE TRIUMPH OF ACHILLES (1985) )
   作者:(美)露易丝.格丽克(Louise Glück)
   译者:剑郭琴符

   神的天使推那孩子的手
   从珠宝,到燃烧的煤。


   1.

   真理的
   形像是火,它登上
   天上的堡垒。

   你从来没有感觉到
   它明显的力量?
   即使一个孩子
   也能享受这种快乐。

   显然,
   就像烈日
   燃烧在地狱。这是地狱,
   白天没有黑夜。

   2

   就像法老的女儿
   带了一只小狮子回家
   过了几个星期
   假装成一只猫。
   你没有逼迫这个女人。
   她说她在匆忙中
   遇到了一个孩子;
   每次她讲述这个故事,
   她的女仆们重复
   她们无休止的叹息的合唱。
   它必须是:
   一个小王子。一只小狮子。

   3.

   后来,几乎没有鼓励,
   一个迹象出现:有一会儿
   这孩子对法老
   就像孙子一样。
   然后他扭动,在法老的膝上
   他去够埃及的王冠---

   4

   于是法老在孩子面前摆了
   两个盘子,一个是红宝石,一个是燃烧的灰烬

   我的心之光,世界
   就摆在你面前:
   火在两旁,火
   没有别的选择---

   5

   就像一个神奇的动作:你看到的一切
   是孩子的动作;对埃及财富
   如此热衷的
   同一只手,却突然
   表现出对一堆煤的偏爱。
   你从没见过真正的天使。
   为了完成这一幕,
   那孩子把自己弄残了---
   一声叫喊声响起,
   几乎就像一个人
   在地狱里,
   在那里除了看
   什么也不能干---

   6

   摩西
   躺在灯心草中:
   他只能看到
   一个方向,
   他的视角
   被篮子弄窄。
   他看到的
   是巨大的光,像
   一只翅膀盘旋。
   神对他说:
   “你可以成为被宠爱的人,
   那个尝到火
   而不能说话的人,
   要不然你现在就死
   让其他人
   留在埃及。告诉他们
   死在埃及更好,
   把你的尸体
   扔在河里更好,比起面对
   一个新的世界。”

   7.

   似乎一个灵魂出现,
   不依赖于天使,
   一个有意识的存在选择
   不进入天堂---
   与此同时,真正的
   太阳在下落。
   当它迫不得已
   触到水面,反射的太阳升起
   从河的深处
   迎接它:
   然后喊声结束。
   或藏在
   救世主的
   结巴中---

   8

   真理的
   背景是黑暗:它横扫
   以色列的沙漠。

   你被光,被幻觉
   迷住了吗?

   这是你通往神的道路,
   他没有名字,他的手
   是看不见的:一个
   月光在黑暗的水上的把戏。



Day Without Night

   The angel of god pushed the child’s hand
   away from the jewels, toward the burning coal.

   1.

   The image
   of truth is fire: it mounts
   the fortress of heaven.

   Have you never felt
   its obvious power?
   Even a child
   is capable of this joy.

   Apparently,
   a like sun
   burns in hell. It is hell,
   day without night.

   2.

   It was as though Pharaoh's daughter
   had brought home a lion cub
   and for a few weeks
   passed it off as a cat.
   You did not press this woman.
   She said she came upon
   a child in the rushes;
   each time she told the story,
   her handmaidens recreated
   their interminable chorus of sighs.
   It had to be:
   A little prince. A little lion cub.

   3.

   And then with almost no encouragement
   a sign came: for awhile
   the child is like
   a grandson to Pharaoh.
   Then he squirms; on Pharaoh’s lap
   he reaches for the crown of Egypt---

   4.

   So Pharaoh set before the child
   two trays, one of rubies, one of burning embers:

   Light of my heart, the world
   is set before you:
   fire on either side, fire
   without alternative---

   5.

   It was like a magic act: all you saw
   was the child move; the same hand that took
   such active interest in
   the wealth of Egypt showed
   this sudden preference for a pile of coal.
   You never saw the actual angel.
   And to complete the act,
   the child maimed himself---
   And a cry arose,
   almost as though a person
   were in hell,
   where there is nothing to do
   but see---

   6.

   Moses
   lay in the rushes:
   he could see
   only in one direction,
   his perspective being
   narrowed by the basket.
   What he saw
   was great light, like
   a wing hovering.
   And god said to him,
   “You can be the favored one,
   the one who tastes fire
   and cannot speak,
   or you can die now
   and let the others
   stay in Egypt: tell them
   it was better to die in Egypt,
   better to litter the river
   with your corpse, than face
   a new world.”

   7.

   It was as though a soul emerged,
   independent of the angel,
   a conscious being choosing
   not to enter paradise---
   at the same time, the true
   sun was setting.
   As it touched the water
   by necessity the mirrored sun rose
   to meet it from
   the depths of the river:
   Then the cry ended.
   Or was hidden
   in the stammering
   of the redeemer---

   8.

   The context
   of truth is darkness: it sweeps
   the deserts of Israel.

   Are you taken in
   by lights, by illusions?

   Here is your path to god,
   who has no name, whose hand
   is invisible: a trick
   of moonlight on the dark water.





榆树

   (选自 THE TRIUMPH OF ACHILLES (1985) )
   作者:(美)露易丝.格丽克(Louise Glück)
   译者:剑郭琴符

   我整天都试图区分
   需要和欲望。现在,在黑暗中,
   我只为我们感到痛苦的悲伤,
   这些建筑工人,和刨木工人,
   因为我一直在稳定地
   看着这些榆树
   看到了造成
   扭曲、静止的树的过程
   是痛苦的,并明白
   它只会形成扭曲的形状。



Elms


   All day I tried to distinguish
   need from desire. Now, in the dark,
   I feel only bitter sadness for us,
   the builders, the planers of wood,
   because I have been looking
   steadily at these elms
   and seen the process that creates
   the writhing, stationary tree
   is torment, and have understood
   it will make no forms but twisted forms.





成人的悲伤
   ---献给E.V.

   (选自 THE TRIUMPH OF ACHILLES (1985) )
   作者:(美)露易丝.格丽克(Louise Glück)
   译者:剑郭琴符

   因为你愚蠢到只爱一个地方,
   现在你无家可归,一个孤儿
   在一个又一个收容所里。
   你没有做好充分的准备。
   在你眼前,有两个人变老了;
   我本可以告诉你两个死亡即将来临。
   从来没有一个父母
   因为孩子的爱而活着。

   现在,当然,太晚了---
   你被困在忠诚的浪漫中。
   你不停地往回走,紧紧抓住
   两个你几乎认不出来的人
   在他们所忍受的一切之后。

   如果你曾经可以拯救自己,
   现在时间已经过去了:你是固执的,可悲的
   盲目改变。现在你什么都没有:
   对你来说,家就是墓地。
   我见过你把脸贴在花岗岩的标记上---
   你是地衣,试图在那里生长。
   但你不会成长,
   你不会让自己
   抹杀任何东西。



Adult Grief
   ---for E. V.


   Because you were foolish enough to love one place,
   now you are homeless, an orphan
   in a succession of shelters.
   You did not prepare yourself sufficiently.
   Before your eyes, two people were becoming old;
   I could have told you two deaths were coming.
   There has never been a parent
   kept alive by a child’s love.

   Now, of course, it’s too late---
   you were trapped in the romance of fidelity.
   You kept going back, clinging
   to two people you hardly recognized
   after what they’d endured.

   If once you could have saved yourself,
   now that time's past: you were obstinate, pathetically
   blind to change. Now you have nothing:
   for you, home is a cemetery.
   I've seen you press your face against the granite markers---
   you are the lichen, trying to grow there.
   But you will not grow,
   you will not let yourself
   obliterate anything.





鹰的影子

   (选自 THE TRIUMPH OF ACHILLES (1985) )
   作者:(美)露易丝.格丽克(Louise Glück)
   译者:剑郭琴符

   在路上拥抱,
   因为某种原因我不再记得
   然后拆散,看到
   前面的形状---它有多近?
   我们仰望着鹰
   和它的猎物盘旋的地方;我看着它们
   转向西山,在泥土中投下
   它们的一个影子,包罗万象的
   捕食者形状---
   然后它们消失了。我思考:
   一个影子。就像我们做的那个,
   你抱着我。



Hawk's Shadow

   Embracing in the road
   for some reason I no longer remember
   and then drawing apart, seeing
   that shape ahead---how close was it?
   We looked up to where the hawk
   hovered with its kill; I watched them
   veering toward West Hill, casting
   their one shadow in the dirt, the all-inclusive
   shape of the predator---
   Then they disappeared. And I thought:
   one shadow. Like the one we made,
   you holding me.








 楼主| 发表于 2020-10-27 14:45:17 | 显示全部楼层


写自日本
   
   (选自 THE TRIUMPH OF ACHILLES (1985) )
   作者:(美)露易丝.格丽克(Louise Glück)
   译者:剑郭琴符
   
   1.
   
   一只猫搅动物质世界。
   突然,阳光注入房间
   好像某处一扇百叶窗被打开。
   在地板上,梯子白色的木条出现。
   
   2
   
   格温在前院哭泣,她三岁。
   西班牙女佣轻抚她的头发---格温
   会说两种语言;她擦干眼睛,
   几片花瓣从蓝花楹树上落下。
   
   现在门打开了:这是杰克,运动员,穿着他的战靴。
   接下来的一个小时里,他先
   跑开了,然后朝向他的家人。
   
   这里是崔克西,在车道上漫步,
   与僵硬的小鸟
   相比,它显得巨大。无聊的小鸟,
   再也不会叽叽喳喳吵架。
   她轻弹它一两下,
   在柚子下,在柠檬树下。
   
   初夏:雾笼罩着群山。
   在每棵树下,一块树荫的小垫布。
   
   3.
   
   起先,我到处都看到你。
   现在只在某些事情中,
   在更长的间隔。
   
   4.
   
   我们走在日本的花园
   在赤裸的樱桃树之间,
   你故意选择的一条路
   在荒凉的十一月
   
   仿佛我自己命令落下
   花瓣,黑色的
   水果小圆块---
   
   在附近,一个男孩驾着他的木船,
   回家,离开,回家,离开。
   然后线断了,船
   被运向瀑布。
   
   “从这一刻起,我再也不会知道
   轻松,”你说,“既然你对我撒谎,
   也不会高兴。”男孩
   用手捂住脸。
   
   有另一个世界,
   既不是空气也不是水,
   而是一个现在
   已进入象征的空虚。
   
   5
   
   那猫
   错过了她的主人。
   她爬上砖墙,
   
   一项技艺
   格温决定
   复制:西班牙女仆
   大声反对。
   眼泪,拖着脚步。在水边,
   男孩终于
   垂下他的双手。
   他有了一个新玩具,一根线
   系着一个丢失的东西---
   
   暮色:戴着她蓝色的阔边帽,
   格温重造了夏季花园。
   
   6.
   
   独自一人,看着月亮升起:
   今晚,一个完整的圆圈,
   就像女人的眼睛掠过富足。
   
   这是它曾有之最。
   在那空白的街道之上,被夜空
   解决的缺陷---
   
   就像我们的心:黑暗
   给我们显示它们的能力。
   我们完整的心---那时,它们似乎让人如此印象深刻。
   
   哭喊,呻吟,我们重大的苦难。
   一只手在后背
   或胸口---
   
   现在隔着墙
   有人在清理桌子,
   包黑面包和白色的陶瓷黄油罐。
   
   我们想什么?
   我们聊什么?
   楼上,一盏灯亮着。
   它一定是
   格温的,它烧毁
   一个故事的广度---
   
   7.
   
   为什么爱你将失去的?
   没有什么别的可以爱。
   
   8.
   
   昨晚在床上你的
   手重重地落在
   我的肩上。我以为
   
   你睡着了。但我们已经
   分开了。也许床单动了,
   赋予你的手以重量,凭借
   
   我的身体的
   潮湿。早上:我
   已写下文字来感谢你。
   
   9.
   
   那只猫睡在人行道上,
   黑色靠着白色的水泥。
   
   勇敢的人有耐心。
   他们是日出的祭司,
   城墙上的狮子,岬。
From the Japanese
   
   
   1.
   
   A cat stirs in the material world.
   And suddenly sunlight pours into the room
   as though somewhere a blind had been opened.
   And on the floor, the white bars of a ladder appear.
   
   2.
   
   Gwen is sobbing in the front yard; she is three.
   The Spanish maid strokes her hair---Gwen
   is bilingual; she dries her eyes,
   a few petals falling from the jacaranda tree.
   
   Now the door opens: here is Jack, the athlete, in his combat boots.
   For the next hour he runs
   first away from, then toward his family.
   
   And here is Trixie, roaming the driveway,
   huge in comparison
   to the rigid bird. Boring bird,
   that will not chirp and fight anymore.
   She flicks it once or twice,
   under the grapefruit, under the lemon tree.
   
   Early summer: fog covers the mountains.
   Under each tree, a doily of shade.
   
   3.
   
   At first, I saw you everywhere.
   Now only in certain things,
   at longer intervals.
   
   4.
   
   We were walking in the Japanese gardens
   among the bare cherry trees,
   a path you chose
   deliberately in desolate November
   
   as though I myself had ordered down
   the petals, the black
   nuggets of the fruit---
   
   Nearby, a boy sailed his wooden boat,
   home and away, home and away.
   Then the thread snapped; the boat
   was carried toward the waterfall.
   
   "From this moment I will never know
   ease,” you said, “since you have lied to me,
   nor joy.” The boy
   covered his face with his hands.
   
   There is another world,
   neither air nor water
   but an emptiness which now
   a symbol has entered.
   
   5.
   
   The cat
   Misses her master.
   She climbs the brick wall,
   
   a feat
   Gwen determines
   to copy: loud
   objections from the Spanish maid.
   Tears, shuffling. At the water's edge,
   the boy finally
   lowered his hands.
   He had a new toy, a thread
   tied to a lost thing---
   
   Twilight: in her blue sombrero,
   Gwen reconstructs the summer garden.
   
   6.
   
   Alone, watching the moon rise:
   tonight, a full circle,
   like a woman's eye passing over abundance.
   
   This is the most it will ever be.
   Above the blank street, the imperfections
   solved by night---
   
   Like our hearts: darkness
   showed us their capacity.
   Our full hearts---at the time, they seemed so impressive.
   
   Cries, moans, our important suffering.
   A hand at the small of the back
   or on the breast---
   
   And now across the wall
   someone is clearing the table,
   wrapping the dark bread and the white ceramic pot of butter.
   
   What did we think?
   What did we talk about?
   Upstairs, a light goes on.
   It must be
   Gwen's, it burns
   the span of a story---
   
   7.
   
   Why love what you will lose?
   There is nothing else to love.
   
   8.
   
   Last night in bed your
   hand fell heavily upon
   my shoulder. I thought
   
   you slept. Yet we are
   parted. Perhaps the sheet moved,
   given your hand's weight by
   
   the dampness of
   my body. Morning: I have
   written to thank you.
   
   9.
   
   The cat sleeps on the sidewalk,
   black against the white cement.
   
   The brave are patient.
   They are the priests of sunrise,
   lions on the ramparts, the promontory.
传说
   
   (选自 THE TRIUMPH OF ACHILLES (1985) )
   作者:(美)露易丝.格丽克(Louise Glück)
   译者:剑郭琴符
   
   我父亲的父亲
   从德鲁瓦(1)来到纽约:
   一个不幸跟着另一个。
   在匈牙利,一个学者,一个有财产的人。
   然后破产:一个移民
   在寒冷的地下室卷雪茄。
   
   他就像埃及的约瑟。
   晚上,他在城里散步;
   港口的浪花
   在他脸上变成了眼泪。
   
   悲伤的泪水为德鲁瓦---四十座房子,
   几头奶牛在肥沃的草地上吃草---
   
   虽然据说伟大的灵魂是
   一颗星,一座灯塔,
   但它更像是一颗钻石:
   在整个世界上,没有什么
   比它更难改变。
   
   不幸的是,你已经不再感到
   这个世界的宏伟
   它,就像一个沉重的重量,塑造
   我祖父的灵魂?
   
   从工厂里,他的梦像悲伤的小鸟
   飞向德鲁瓦,抓紧在它们的鸟喙里
   就像从潮湿的泥土,一个人可以看到
   自己脚印的形状,
   散落的图像,村庄零散的小片;
   就像他打包树叶,在他灵魂内部,
   这个重量把德鲁瓦的碎片压缩进
   法则,值得奴役
   挑战的抽象:
   在这样一个世界,蔑视
   特权,热爱
   理性和正义,总是
   说真话---
   
   这一直是
   我们人民的拯救
   因为说真话产生
   自由的幻觉。
   ----
   (1)Dhlua:据《 The Poetry of Louise Glück: A Thematic Introduction作者:Daniel Morris》, Dhlua是作者虚构的地名,( the imaginary Dhlua)。
Legend
   
   My father's father came
   to New York from Dhlua:
   one misfortune followed another.
   In Hungary, a scholar, a man of property.
   Then failure: an immigrant
   rolling cigars in a cold basement.
   
   He was like Joseph in Egypt.
   At night, he walked the city;
   spray of the harbor
   turned to tears on his face.
   
   Tears of grief for Dhlua---forty houses,
   a few cows grazing the rich meadows---
   
   Though the great soul is said to be
   a star, a beacon,
   what it resembles better is a diamond:
   in the whole world there is nothing
   hard enough to change it.
   
   Unfortunate being, have you ceased to feel
   the grandeur of the world
   that, like a heavy weight, shaped
   the soul of my grandfather?
   
   From the factory, like sad birds his dreams
   flew to Dhlua, grasping in their beaks
   as from moist earth in which a man could see
   the shape of his own footprint,
   scattered images, loose bits of the village;
   and as he packed the leaves, so within his soul
   this weight compressed scraps of Dhlua
   into principles, abstractions
   worthy of the challenge of bondage:
   in such a world, to scorn
   privilege, to love
   reason and justice, always
   to speak the truth---
   
   which has been
   the salvation of our people
   since to speak the truth gives
   the illusion of freedom.
   
早晨
   
   (选自 THE TRIUMPH OF ACHILLES (1985) )
   作者:(美)露易丝.格丽克(Louise Glück)
   译者:剑郭琴符
   
   贤惠的女孩在丈夫的双臂中醒来,
   同一双臂,整个夏天,她都在里面不安地
   动着,在梨树下:
   这令她愉快,像这样醒来,
   当太阳升起,看到婚纱
   放松地搭在椅背上,
   在沉重的衣柜上,一件男式衬衫,叠得整整齐齐;
   被这些还原成
   一千幅图像,成它自己的教堂,秋天的阳光
   流动,透过彩色的窗户,透过
   圣母的塑像,在下面,
   阿米莉亚捧着火红的新娘花---
   至于她母亲的眼泪:荒谬可笑,然而
   母亲们在女儿的婚礼上哭泣,
   每个人都知道,尽管
   一个人不能说为了谁的青春。
   在盛大的宴会上,总是有局外人,欢乐的陌生人,
   关键是他们多么不同,她和她的母亲。
   她从未像现在这样
   远离悲伤。她觉得没必要哭泣,
   但她也不知道
   这个词的含义,青春。
Morning
   
   
   The virtuous girl wakes in the arms of her husband,
   the same arms in which, all summer, she moved
   restlessly, under the pear trees:
   it is pleasant to wake like this,
   with the sun rising, to see the wedding dress
   draped over the back of a chair,
   and on the heavy bureau, a man's shirt, neatly folded;
   to be restored by these
   to a thousand images, to the church itself, the autumn sunlight
   streaming through the colored windows, through
   the figure of the Blessed Virgin, and underneath,
   Amelia holding the fiery bridal flowers---
   As for her mother’s tears: ridiculous, and yet
   mothers weep at their daughters’ weddings,
   everyone knows that, though
   for whose youth one cannot say.
   At the great feast there is always the outsider, the stranger to joy,
   and the point is how different they are, she and her mother.
   Never has she been further from sadness
   than she is now. She feels no call to weep,
   but neither does she know
   the meaning of that word, youth.
   
   (选自 THE TRIUMPH OF ACHILLES (1985) )
   作者:(美)露易丝.格丽克(Louise Glück)
   译者:剑郭琴符
   
   这匹马给了你什么
   我不能给你的?
   
   我看着你独自一人,
   当你骑进奶牛场后面的田野,
   你的手埋在母马的
   黑鬃毛里。
   
   然后我知道你沉默背后保留了什么:
   轻蔑,憎恨我,婚姻。你还是,
   要我触摸你,你大喊
   像新娘的喊叫,但我一看你就知道
   你身体里没有孩子。
   那么还有什么?
   
   没什么,我想。只有
   在我死之前赶紧死。
   
   在梦中,我看着你骑马
   穿过干燥的田野,然后
   下马:你们俩一起走;
   在黑暗中,你们没有影子。
   但我感觉它们向我走来
   因为它们在夜里四处游荡,
   它们是自己的主人。
   
   看看我。你以为我不懂?
   如果在这生命中没有通道
   动物是什么?
Horse

   What does the horse give you
   that I cannot give you?
   
   I watch you when you are alone,
   when you ride into the field behind the dairy,
   your hands buried in the mare’s
   dark mane.
   
   Then I know what lies behind your silence:
   scorn, hatred of me, of marriage. Still,
   you want me to touch you; you cry out
   as brides cry, but when I look at you I see
   there are no children in your body.
   Then what is there?
   
   Nothing, I think. Only haste
   to die before I die.
   
   In a dream, I watched you ride the horse
   over the dry fields and then
   dismount: you two walked together;
   in the dark, you had no shadows.
   But I felt them coming toward me
   since at night they go anywhere,
   they are their own masters.
   
   Look at me. You think I don’t understand?
   What is the animal
   if not passage out of this life?


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