西尔维娅•普拉斯 | 情书

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情书

[美]普拉斯   张芬龄 译

很难述说你带来的转变。
如果我现在活着，那么过去就等于死亡，
虽然，像石块一样，不受干扰，
习惯于静止。
你不只是踩到了我一吋，不——
也不只是叫我空茫的小眼
再一次向天空抬起，当然，不敢奢望，
去了解蔚蓝，或者星辰。

不是这样的。我睡着，这么说吧：一条
于黑岩中伪装成黑岩的蛇
在寒冬雪白的裂缝中——
像我的芳邻，不喜欢
万千雕凿完美的
面颊，无时不降下来融化
我玄武岩的双颊。他们化做眼泪，
那是天使为单调的大自然哭泣，
但这未能使我信服。眼泪冻结。
每一个僵死的头颅都戴着冰的面具。

我像根弯曲的手指继续睡着。
我首先看到稀薄的空气
紧锁的水滴自露珠升起
明澈如精灵。许多岩块
堆集，面无表情地环聚着。
我不知道这该如何解释。
我发光，剥落，摊开
像流体把自己倾出一般
在鸟足和树茎群中。
我未受愚弄。我立刻就认清了你。

树石闪烁，没有阴影。
我的指长透明如玻璃。
我像三月的嫩芽抽放：
一只手臂和一条腿，手臂，腿。
踏石而上云，我如是攀爬。
现在我彷佛某种神祇
穿空飘浮于换新的灵魂之中
纯洁如片冰。这是天赐。

Love Letter

Not easy to state the change you made.
If I'm alive now, then I was dead,
Though, like a stone, unbothered by it,
Staying put according to habit.
You didn't just tow me an inch, no-
Nor leave me to set my small bald eye
Skyward again, without hope, of course,
Of apprehending blueness, or stars.

That wasn't it. I slept, say: a snake
Masked among black rocks as a black rock
In the white hiatus of winter -
Like my neighbors, taking no pleasure
In the million perfectly- chiseled
Cheeks alighting each moment to melt
My cheeks of basalt. They turned to tears,
Angels weeping over dull natures,

But didn't convince me. Those tears froze.
Each dead head had a visor of ice.
And I slept on like a bent finger.
The first thing I was was sheer air
And the locked drops rising in dew
Limpid as spirits. Many stones lay
Dense and expressionless round about.
I didn't know what to make of it.
I shone, mice - scaled, and unfolded
To pour myself out like a fluid
Among bird feet and the stems of plants.

I wasn't fooled. I knew you at once.
Tree and stone glittered, without shadows.
My finger-length grew lucent as glass.
I started to bud like a March twig:
An arm and a leg, and arm, a leg.
From stone to cloud, so I ascended.
Now I resemble a sort of god
Floating through the air in my soul- shift
Pure as a pane of ice. It's a gift.

-关于作者-

西尔维娅·普拉斯 ( Sylvia Plath),1932—1963，出生于美国麻萨诸塞州的波士顿地区。继艾米莉·狄金森和伊丽莎白·毕肖普之后，美国最重要的女诗人。普拉斯生前只出版过两本著作：诗歌集《巨人及其他诗歌》和自传体长篇小说《钟形罩》。之后的许多诗歌集都由其丈夫休斯整理、编辑而成。