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重温拙译《科恩之歌》于情人节

◎王雪飞



南川夜话一百十四:重温拙译《科恩之歌》于情人节




先来欣赏柯恩本人演唱自己写的《一千个吻》


A Thousand Kisses DeepLeonard Cohen - The Future / Ten New Songs

 

 

2018年9月,我曾发过《译完”柯恩之歌‘的日子》。本以为出版发行是板上钉钉的事,因为合同早就订立,我完全可以高枕无忧了。讵料,过掉三个元旦和三个情人节,《柯恩之歌》依旧被束之高阁。自忖良久,殊不知眼下乃是“百年未遇之大变局”,夫复何言?惟将作者哈里•拉斯基的卷首语移到此地,聊以备忘而已。

 

 

摘自作者哈里•拉斯基:

看来心情不赖。那节拍一下子吸引了我,音乐就这么响起了。现在咱们就来分享这段题为《柯恩之歌》的生平吧。 

2000年4月16日,我以为自己永远忘不了莱昂纳德最近打来的电话。

那确实是我在冬季很不如意的事情。我想,虽然我已为本身的康复而逃到了佛罗里达,但我的灵魂却不曾能够躲开自己的肉体。死亡的意识每天都令我倒吸冷气,因为面对满眼的斑斓色彩和盈耳的单调海浪,我在精神上倍感窒息。我曾安然无恙地与一直给我鼎力相助的妻子同乘加拿大航班,共享了小家的温暖。

可如今来到了多伦多,我面临着加拿大冬天不断的惩罚(尽管该城理所当然地任性)。恶意的严冬放任着最后一阵冰霜雨雪。如果说四月是最最严酷的月份,那我则感受着它迟迟不退的袭扰。

就在那么严酷的日子里,我接到了那个电话--在我的加拿大广播公司办公室录音电话机里存有莱昂纳德温馨的声音,那间办公室里掺杂着对诸如田纳西•威廉姆斯等诗人和特雷莎•斯特拉塔斯等歌手的记忆。我身为美术巨作的收藏者,满屋子堆着作者们的成果。他们奉献给咱们大家的作品令我自叹不如。它们在我的脑海翻滚,就像是马克•夏加尔(Marc Chagall )画作中那些色彩鲜艳的人物形象,有虚幻,有现实,也有化外之境。山外又有山。此刻我赞美它们,就像是在我的影片中所做的一样,面对天神沉思冥想。神若是伟大的造物主,那末,这些男女作者则在今天乃至每天通过自己的油画与激情以及歌词与乐曲将其作品的个人点滴感受给了我们。我敬重他们。

“哈里,我是莱昂纳德。我只是想让你知道,看了你写我的影片,突然想起当时不曾充分感谢你通过影片来馈赠那份厚礼。给我打电话吧。”

于是,他留下了他自己的号码。

其实并没有要他道谢。《莱昂纳德•柯恩之歌》曾是我人生中的创作乐趣,那是将他与我的诗与情相互掺和的一种尝试。我并不经常观看,因为他的嗓音连续数日甚至数周挥之不去地魅惑着我。

如果说这个电话有什么令人吃惊(我其实很少会吃惊)之处,那就是该影片早在二十年前就已经完成,而且他和我则于八月下旬一个午后在多伦多观看的。二十年峥嵘岁月啊!

我设法接通他,于是便留下了我家的号码。接着又打来一个电话。这次他说:“哈里,我把你家号码的几个数字给弄忘了。再打一遍吧。我的听觉大不如前了。”

我想我开始变得对CBC有些神经过敏。

曾几何时这家大网络公司为我和其他人提供着称心如意的工作,已然遭到中层管理人员的绑架,他们显得少有品味。更加糟糕的是,由于官僚思想作怪,类似我和莱昂纳德所拍摄的那些电影都被埋没了,基本无法以公众热望的特质来分享。冷冰冰的思想正在扼杀着它们。因此,电话就变得越发地重要了。我的回应说得又缓慢又响亮,而且满含深情。

他再次来电,对我太太说话,而她向来都是羞于面对他的。我们终于在一周以后联系上了。瞧,我对莱昂纳德的感觉就是,他已然成了个神秘人物。他是最好的诗人,或者说像是我们大家都敢于成为的那种诗人。就像追踪济慈或者雪莱那样,我们热捧他,就爱看到诸如此类的报道:“莱昂纳德在田纳西。莱昂纳德上了山,就在加州的鲍尔迪山。最近,莱昂纳德来在了印度。莱昂纳德乃是一般的性感象征。莱昂纳德属于僧侣和精神资源。”

有时我想,莱昂纳德就像加里•格兰特,他在成年时期说过:“没错,我们大家都愿意效法加里•格兰特,但愿我是他就好啦。”我连年想起他,在蒙特利尔的时候给他打电话,一有可能就跟他交谈,但是从未觉得有不断接触他的必要。就像我家烟囱附近那些住在洞穴中的麻雀一样。听到它们早晨鸣叫的时候我喜欢,看见它们出来露面的时候我快乐。但我从来没法而且也不想捉到任何一只。

可它们是“我的麻雀”。而我则是它们的朋友,我也是莱昂纳德的朋友。然而,他当然需要自由。他已经时常在写作中有所涉及,并且还歌颂了自由。

像只小鸟,在电线上像一个醉汉,在午夜唱着回家我用自己的方式,找寻自由

我第一次找见他就是这个样子,都好多年之前了。回忆起来,那是一九六二年。设想一下吧,差不多四十年年啦!咱就从希腊赤日炎炎的海德拉岛说起。我是终生难忘。

 

 

 

斯人仙驾留风骚,洒家四月译键敲。

昨夜交稿松口气,出门纵目彩云飘。

(王雪飞写于译罄之日)

 

 

 

 

He kindly changed the subject with another reading that warm summer day, One of These Days. Memory vivid, painful memory. 他委婉地变换话题,转而在那个温和的夏日朗读起《这些日子中的一天》。逼真的记忆,楚痛的记忆。

 

One of these days we’re going to get outside. 

We’ll take off your shoes and listen to the wind chimes in the garden.

 The dust of vanished jet planes will be a glaze around the street lamps. 

The little star of Karl Marx will light a corner of the vault. 

We’ll lie beside the shed mingling our conversation with the soft round noise of the neighbor’s doves.

 Adam’s father will be feeling better.

 So will Adam’s mother. 

Our rugged life in the back yard is about to begin.

 We’re going to dig a lily pond if we can get outside. 

You can see us in our chairs now, immensely attractive and paralyzed. 

There we are reflected in the windows of the room. 

We’d weep over the story you could tell about us. 

You’d be so pleased to meet people who do not wish to govern you. 

 

这些日子中的一天,我们打算出门走走。

我们将脱掉你的鞋子,听听风在花园里鸣响。

转眼不见了的喷气飞机卷起的灰尘将给路灯蒙上一圈彩釉。

卡尔马克思小星将把苍穹照亮。

我们将在窝棚躺下,让我们的交谈与邻家鸽子轻柔的叫声相融合。

亚当的父亲将会感到更加好受。

亚当的母亲也会如此。

我们在后院的坎坷日子即将开始。

假使可以去到户外,我们就开挖一个荷花池。

现在你能看见我们在椅子里面坐着,因而无比诱人,乃至大惊失色。

房间的窗子映照着我们在那里的身影。

我们将会由于你可能讲述的故事而潸然泪下。

你将乐于会晤不想管束你的人们。

 

 

I suggested that, of course, it was written about this very garden.我表示,那当然是写的这座花园。

He seemed enormously sad, suddenly so sad. 他显然非常伤心,突如其来地痛心疾首。

“Yeah. Yeah, uh, uh, there, the neighbors keep doves up there.

Are they still there now? I haven’t heard them. They had a chicken?” “是呀,是的,呃,呃,邻居们在那边养着鸽子。他们如今还在那里么?我没有他们的音讯呢。他们是不是有一只鸡?”

It was an afternoon of remembrance. I asked if he had another poem. I felt the hurt of his response. 那是个加快往事的下午。我问他是否还有别的诗作。我对他的受伤反应有所感觉。

“Uh, sure.” “呃,当然有啦。”

 

Slowly I married her

Slowly and bitterly married her love

Married her body

in her boredom and joy

Slowly I came to her

Slow and resentfully came to her bed

Came to her table

Harry Rasky

in hunger and habit

came to be fed

缓缓地我娶了她

缓缓地苦苦地娶了她的心

娶了她那处于烦闷和欢乐之中的肉体

缓缓地我朝她走来

愤愤地走近她的床铺

走向她的桌子,在饥饿和习惯的驱使下

接受伺候

Slowly I married her

sanctioned by none

with nobody’s blessings

in nobody’s name

amid general warnings

amid general scorn

Came to her fragrance

my nostrils wide

Came to her greed

with seed for a child

缓缓地我娶了她

没有谁的认可

没有谁的祝福

不以谁的名义

面临众人的警告

面临众人的鄙视

张大着鼻孔贴近她的幽香

带着产仔的种子满足她的渴望

Years in the coming

and years in retreat

Slowly I married her

Slowly I kneeled

And now we are wounded

so deep and so well

that no one can hurt us

except Death itself

在未来的岁月

多年的隐居

缓缓地我娶了她

缓缓地我跪了下来

到如今我们受伤深重

因而谁都不能把咱伤害

只有死神除外

And all through Death’s dream

I move with her lips

The dream is a night

but eternal the kiss

And slowly I come to her

slowly we shed

the clothes of our doubting

and slowly we wed

趁着死神处于睡梦之际

我与她的嘴唇互动

那梦也就一夜

而亲吻却是永恒

缓缓地我走近她

我们缓缓脱去疑虑的外衣

缓缓地我们结为夫妻

 

在前女友玛丽安去世前,得悉消息的柯恩迅速给 Marianne 写了一封邮件:「哦,玛丽安,我们已经到了十分年老,身体快要分崩离析的时候。我很快就会随你而去。我就在你身后。如果你伸出手,就能碰到我。我一直爱你的美丽和智慧,然而此刻我不用再重复这一切,因为你都知道。现在,我祝福你一个愉快的旅途。再见我亲爱的朋友。永远的爱人,我们在道路的尽头见。」

 

柯恩就是柯恩

一颗总在深思的老灵魂

一缕总在爱恋的孤独男声

一个不爱穿牛仔裤的老嬉皮

 

 

顺便看看作者谈及柯恩与前总理特鲁多的厚谊记载--

And now there is the singing voice at the other end of the phone, gravel and honey and passion and fun. “Yom Kippur Ha’zeh…This is Leonard. I’ve called you to wish you a healthy New Year.” Mortality was very much on our minds in the autumn of 2000. Leonard and I had separately become friends of Pierre Trudeau. Somehow we were all connected, by style, aspiration, a definite lust for life and in this time of our lives a dedication to children. Old Testament style patriarchs, we three. The puzzle of how to raise children and keep them free of the glare of public attention after you have achieved a certain fame or notoriety. 此刻,电话那头响起哼唱的声音,低沉沙哑、温和甜美、热情风趣。“赎罪日好(Yom Kippur Ha’zeh)……我是莱昂纳德。我打个电话祝你健康。”二○○○秋天我们心里老是萦绕着死亡的念头。我和莱昂纳德分别成了皮埃尔·特鲁多(Pierre Trudeau)的朋友。我们倒是由于生活风尚、志向和明确的渴求(当时是我们在这个人生阶段对子女的奉献)而完全联系起来。我们这三位带有圣经旧约风格的家长啊。面临的难题是怎样养育子女,在你获得一定知名度之后如何让他们避开公众注视的目光。

For me personally, it had taken the form of what I enjoyed calling “lunch at the summit.” Each year, on the opening day of the Montreal International Film Festival, Trudeau and I would meet for an Asian meal and he would join me for the world premier of my latest film. It was a matter of personal pride that the former and most articulate of our country’s leaders would take the time to share the experience. Sometimes Pierre would bring one of his sons along and I would bring Adam, my son, who was studying medicine in Montreal. We enjoyed the continuity, the link in our beliefs as personified in our children. It gave meaning to our existence, there in flesh and blood. 就我个人而言,我所喜爱的所谓“顶级午餐”(“lunch at the summit”)已经成型,每年的“蒙特利尔国际电影节”开幕日,特鲁多和我就会聚在一起吃顿亚洲餐,他还会前来参加我新拍影片的首度公映。我们国家的前任(而且口才一流的)领导人拨冗前来分享这段难忘经历,实在是我个人倍感荣耀之事。有的时候皮埃尔·特鲁多还会带上他的儿子们,我也带上我的儿子亚当--他在蒙特利尔学医。我们喜爱这种持续关系,咱们的共同信仰体现在了我们的孩子身上。这就给我们的生存赋予了有血有肉的意义。

 

Trudeau was a devout man, his basic belief shattered by the accidental death of his youngest son, an avalanche gone wild. God avenging what? 特鲁多是个虔诚的人,他由于幼子的意外死亡于雪崩而击碎了自己的信念。上帝在报复什么?

I recall at lunch one time trying to comfort him with a poem by Emily Bronte, With Courage to Endure. But who could endure what was unendurable? I told him of the Hebrew custom of mourning

— a year for a parent, a month for a spouse, forever for a child. 我忆起一次在午餐相聚时以艾米莉·勃朗特(Emily Bronte)关于“勇于忍受”(With Courage to Endure)的一首诗安慰他。可是,能忍受难以忍受的事呀?我把希伯莱的悼丧习俗告诉他--父母为期一年、配偶为期一月,孩儿为期永远。

And it was forever for him. I watched the life, the youth, drain from him. Comfort? I really don’t know. 对他来说则是永远的伤痛。我望着生命、青春从他身上流逝。安慰得了么?我真的不知道。

I was not surprised to hear of his death. This man who seemed to personify the best of the country, its youth, its wildness, its raw adventure. He was gone and so much of ourselves with him. The mediocre was left, our challenge diminished without our leader. 我闻知他的死讯并不意外。这是个把活力、狂放、冒险这些国家精华体现出来的人。他走了,我们跟他相稔的一切也就此完结。留下的是平庸之人,没有了自己的领导人,我们享有的鞭策就减弱了。

The poetry of our soul, endangered. 我们心灵的诗歌面临着危险。

The only one of my films Trudeau had asked to keep was The Song of Leonard Cohen. He and his sons had worn it thin, he once told me. 特鲁多嘱咐保留的唯一一部我所拍摄的影片就是《莱昂纳德·柯恩之歌》。他有一次告诉我说,他和儿子们都快把影片磨薄了呢。

So, I was not surprised to learn that the boys had asked Leonard to be an honorary pallbearer. Many would not understand. But Trudeau was always in search of the poetry of the soul. The gentle waves of the canoe were a kind of music he cherished. The northern forests were jagged lyrics, the landscape of his very being. 因此,我毫不意外地获悉,孩子们请求莱昂纳德担任特鲁多的荣誉护柩者。好多人对此没法理解。但是,特鲁多始终都在探索心灵的诗歌。独木舟的柔波是他所珍爱的音乐。北国的森林是参差不齐的抒情曲,是他本身的好景观。

 

I was not astonished when Leonard told me Trudeau, in his dying days, had asked him to read a poem he had written about death, over and over. Although Trudeau was a devout Catholic and carried with him his basic faith, he turned to his Jewish friends for a kind of poetic comfort — to Leonard in his questing songs and poems and to the penetrating sound of Barbara Striesand. Yes,

the song of Leonard Cohen 140

people really do need people! 我并不惊讶,莱昂纳德告诉我说,特鲁多在临终的日子里恳求他一遍遍地朗读他写的一首关于死亡的诗。虽然特鲁多是位虔诚的天主教徒,并且终生坚持他的基本信仰,但却回归到他的犹太朋友那里去寻求一种诗的慰藉--求助于莱昂纳德发问式的歌曲和诗篇,求助于芭芭拉·施特里桑德那穿透心灵的歌声。是呀,凡人需要凡人嘛!

Leonard had, of course, written and rewritten that splendid Hebrew prayer of the Day of Atonement, Who by Fire? A chronicle of who might survive the coming year, and whose name would be contained in the book of life. “Lord give me another year, another season to taste the goodness of the morning, the pleasure of the day, the love of family.” 莱昂纳德当然为赎罪日反反复复地写下了凄美的希伯莱文祈祷歌词《谁傍着火?》明年或许存世者的一本年鉴,生死簿上将载有他的姓名。“主赐给我又一年、又一季,让我品尝早晨的甘美,白天的愉悦、家庭的关爱。”

We talked of these things, the things that linked us, the laughs we enjoyed, the passion for creation. Leonard and I talked of many things. 我谈论起这些事情--把我们联在一起的事情,我们共享的笑声,创作的激情。莱昂纳德与我谈了很多很多。

Leonard told me that each Friday night he lit the Sabbath candles with his children, as I did with my wonderful wife. We held on to each other with thoughts and words and silences. And I heard his song once again…莱昂纳德告诉我说,每个礼拜五的夜晚,他就和孩子们点燃安息日蜡烛,我和我那位非凡爱妻也是这么做的。思想、言语和安静让我与莱昂纳德相守一处。我再次听到了他的歌声……

 

欢迎链接阅读:

上海闲话之九

上海闲话六十一:从小摩 苏尔说起

 

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