玛丽安.摩尔诗歌2
爱在美国
逸秋译
无论它是什么,它是一种激情-
一种良性的痴呆将
吞没美国,在一种方式中喂养
那方式的对立面
人身牛头怪物被喂养。
它是柔情的迈达斯;
来自内心;
没有别的。来自一种能力
去承受被误解-
承担过错,以“高尚
是行动,”识别它自身以
先锋的审慎
没有厚颜无耻或是
蔓生的伟大
发育不全的浮浅。
无论它是什么,让它毫不
做作。
是的,是的,是的,是的。
然而
你看见了一颗草莓,
那里曾有过一场争斗;是的,
在碎片聚集的地方,
一只刺猬或一只海
星,为它传播了大量的
种子。比苹果种子
更好的食物?——这果实中的
果实,被闭锁着,
如同相向弯曲的一对
榛实。霜,杀死了
橡胶草*的
小叶子,却无法
伤害根;它们在冻结的地里
继续存活。那里
曾有过一株仙人果,
它的叶子粘在带刺的铁丝网上,
根扎在
两英尺下的土中;
如同胡萝卜上长出了曼德拉草,
或者,一只公羊角
偶尔生了根。胜利不会
降临于我,除非我
走向它;一根葡萄藤
打了一个又一个结,一共
三十个——于是
嫩枝被束缚住——
无法摇动,忍耐着,不断超越。
弱者战胜了它的
威胁,强者战胜了
它自己。那里存在的
是坚韧!汁液
流过纤细的脉络
使樱桃变红!
注:*橡胶草,青胶蒲公英一种中亚的蒲公英 (橡胶草 蒲公英属),长有能分泌一种橡胶的肉质根。在二战中被用来制造橡胶产品。
Nevertheless
You"ve seen a strawberry
that"s had a struggle; yet
was, where the fragments met,
a hedgehog or a star-
fish for the multitude
of seeds. What better food
than apple-seeds - the fruit
within the fruit - locked in
like counter-curved twin
hazel-nuts? Frost that kills
the little rubber-plant-
leaves of kok-saghyz-stalks, can"t
harm the roots; they still grow
in frozen ground. Once where
there was a prickly-pear-
leaf clinging to barbed wire,
a root shot down to grow
in earth two feet below;
as carrots form mandrakes
or a ram"s horn root some-
times. Victory won"t come
to me unless I go
to it; a grape-tendril
ties a knot in knots till
knotted thirty times, -- so
the bound twig that"s under-
gone and over-gone, can"t stir.
The weak overcomes its
menace, the strong over-
comes itself. What is there
like fortitude! What sap
went through that little thread
to make the cherry red!
迷迭香
美,和美之子,和迷迭香——(实际不过是对迷迭香历史的一个概述。)
简单地说,就是维纳斯和爱,她的儿子——(此句转述圣母,圣子的历史。)
据称诞生于海上,
在每个圣诞节,彼此相伴,
编织一个欢宴的花篮。(写耶稣,也是写迷迭香。)
并不总叫迷迭香——
自从逃到埃及,它冷漠地开花。(写耶稣,也是写迷迭香。)
绿色的叶子如同标枪似的,背面泛着银色,
它的花——起初是白色——
后来变成了蓝色。记忆的香草,
模仿了圣母玛利亚的蓝色长袍,
对于这既是象征又是香料的花来说,
这并非传奇。
从海边的石头,跃到
基督的高度,在他三十三岁时。
它吸食露水,喂养蜜蜂,
“有一种无声的语言”,在现实中
是一种圣诞树。
(倪志娟 译)
注:*迷迭香,它的英文名字(Rosemary)是由两个拉丁文〈ros和marinus〉演变而来的,意指“大海之朝露”。迷迭香原产于地中海沿岸,属于常绿灌木,夏天会开蓝色小花,看起来像小水滴一般,所以被称之为“海中之露”。传说迷迭香的花本是白色,圣母玛莉亚带着圣婴耶稣逃往埃及的途中,曾将她的蓝色罩袍挂在迷迭香树上,从此,迷迭香的花就转为蓝色了。迷迭香因此又被称为“圣母玛利亚的玫瑰”。耶稣在逃离犹太前往埃及途中,将洗好的衣服晾晒在迷迭香上,赋予了它许多药效,成为基督教的神圣供品。
Rosemary
Beauty and Beauty"s son and rosemary –
Venus and Love, her son, to speak plainly -
born of the sea supposedly,
at Christmas each, in company,
braids a garland of festivity.
Not always rosemary -
since the flight to Egypt, blooming indifferently.
With lancelike leaf, green but silver underneath,
its flowers - white originally -
turned blue. The herb of memory,
imitating the blue robe of Mary,
is not too legendary
to flower both as symbol and as pungency.
Springing from stones beside the sea,
the height of Christ when he was thirty-three,
it feeds on dew and to the bee
"hath a dumb language"; is in reality
a kind of Christmas tree.
过去是此刻
如果外在的活力枯竭
而韵律过时了,
我将回到你,
哈巴谷*,正如在圣经班上
老师讲授无韵诗时,
说——我想我重复了他的原话——
“希伯来人的诗
是带有深刻体验的散文。”迷狂提供了
情境,而适宜决定了形式。
(倪志娟 译)
注:*希伯来《圣经》(即《旧约全书》)中的所谓十二小先知书之一。据说是先知哈巴谷所作。
The Past is the Present
If external action is effete
and rhyme is outmoded,
I shall revert to you,
Habakkuk, as when in a Bible class
the teacher was speaking of unrhymed verse.
He said - and I think I repeat his exact words -
"Hebrew poetry is prose
with a sort of heightened consciousness." Ecstasy affords
the occasion and expediency determines the form.
沉默
我的父亲常说,
“上等人从不做长久地拜访,
不欣赏朗费罗的坟墓*
也不做哈佛大学的玻璃花**。
要像猫那样独立——
将它的猎物带到隐蔽地,
老鼠柔软的尾巴挂在它的嘴上,像一根鞋带——
它们有时享受孤独,
能为那些令他们愉悦的话,
丧失自己的语言。
最深的情感总是在沉默中显现;
不是沉默,而是抑制着。”
他也不无诚意地说,“将我的房子当作你的旅馆。”
旅馆不是居所。
(倪志娟 译)
注:
*出于诗人朗费罗的名言:“生命是真实的,生命是诚挚的,坟墓不是他的终点。”摩尔在这里的意思是,拜访不可无休无止。
*哈佛大学有个著名的“玻璃花博物馆”,珍藏了3000多件用玻璃材质制作的植物标本,涵盖847个物种,全部出自欧洲一对玻璃手工艺师父子之手。
沉默
我父亲曾经说:
“优秀的人从不长久逗留,
从不需要被带去参观朗费罗之墓
或哈佛的玻璃花。
像会把猎物隐藏起来的猫——
老鼠的瘫软尾巴,像一根鞋带挂在嘴边
一样自立——
他们有时享受孤独,
当别人说出让他们感到有趣的话时
他们可以保持沉默。
最深沉的情感总是显现在沉默中;
不是以沉默,而是以节制的方式。”
他诚恳地说:“请把我家当作你的客栈吧。”
客栈不是住宅。
(明迪 译)
Silence
My father used to say,
"Superior people never make long visits,
have to be shown Longfellow"s grave
nor the glass flowers at Harvard.
Self reliant like the cat --
that takes its prey to privacy,
the mouse"s limp tail hanging like a shoelace from its mouth –
they sometimes enjoy solitude,
and can be robbed of speech
by speech which has delighted them.
The deepest feeling always shows itself in silence;
not in silence, but restraint."
Nor was he insincere in saying, "Make my house your inn."
Inns are not residences.
致一个蒸汽压路机
如果不被使用,
说明对你毫无意义。
你没有一丁点儿幽默。你将所有的颗粒
压成整块,然后在上面走来走去。
闪闪发光的岩石碎片
被压成平滑的基石。
如果不是因为“审美中的客观
判断,是一种形而上学的不可能”,你
应该很好地完成了
它。至于蝴蝶,我几乎难以想象
有人会留意你,但是,这不起眼的补充物
即使存在着,去质疑它是否合宜,也是徒劳的。
(倪志娟 译)
To a Steam Roller
The illustration
is nothing to you without the application.
You lack half wit. You crush all the particles down
into close conformity, and then walk back and forth on them.
Sparkling chips of rock
are crushed down to the level of the parent block.
Were not "impersonal judment in aesthetic
matters, a metaphysical impossibility," you
might fairly achieve
it. As for butterflies, I can hardly conceive
of one"s attending upon you, but to question
the congruence of the complement is vain, if it exists.
何谓岁月?
何谓我们的清白?
何谓我们的罪?每个人
都必须面对,没有谁可以幸免。而勇气
来自何处:这没有答案的问题,
这坚定的怀疑,
无声的呼喊,聋子似的倾听——
不幸,乃至死亡,
激励了他人,
而失败, 将
激励灵魂自身强大起来?他
深刻地了解,并快乐,
接受必死性,
即使被束缚着,
仍努力提升自己,就像
峡谷中的海,渴求自由,
却无法得逞,
当它屈服时,
才发现了自己的延续性。
因此,他强烈地感受,
积极地行动。如同鸟,
歌唱着,坚定地向上,
越飞越高。虽然他是俘虏,
他有力的歌声
表明,满足微不足道,
快乐才是纯粹之事。
这是必死的命运,
这是永恒。
(倪志娟 译)
What Are Years?
What is our innocence,
what is our guilt? All are
naked, none is safe. And whence
is courage: the unanswered question,
the resolute doubt, -
dumbly calling, deafly listening-that
in misfortune, even death,
encourage others
and in it"s defeat, stirs
the soul to be strong? He
sees deep and is glad, who
accededs to mortality
and in his imprisonment rises
upon himself as
the sea in a chasm, struggling to be
free and unable to be,
in its surrendering
finds its continuing.
So he who strongly feels,
behaves. The very bird,
grown taller as he sings, steels
his form straight up. Though he is captive,
his mighty singing
says, satisfaction is a lowly
thing, how pure a thing is joy.
This is mortality,
this is eternity.
《诗》
我,也不喜欢它:有些事比如此虚度时光
更重要。
然而,以轻蔑的态度去读它,你
终究会发现,
真实在其中拥有一席之地。
能紧握的手,能睁大的
眼睛,必要时
能竖立的头发,这些事之所以重要,不是因为
它们能被夸张地描述,而是
因为
它们有用。当它们变得歧义丛生,
难以理解,
即便人们对我们说起,我们也绝不会
欣赏
我们无法理解的:倒挂着
或正在寻找食物的
蝙蝠,前进的大象,拉滚轴的野马,树下
一只
不知疲倦的狼,铁石心肠的评论家轻轻抽动皮肤,像一匹马
感觉到
跳蚤,棒球迷
统计学家——
歧视商业文书和
学校课本
同样错误;所有这些现象都很重要。不过,
你必须
加以区分:被末流诗人所推崇的,
其实并不是诗。
除非,我们的诗人能
成为“想象的
写实主义者”——克服了
傲慢和琐屑,能接受
审视,“想象的花园里有真实的蟾蜍”,我们
才创造出了
诗。同时,如果你要求
诗歌的素材
既新鲜,
又真实,你就对诗产生了兴趣。
诗歌
我也不喜欢它:有些东西比这种搬弄
更加重要。
然而,当你真能不咬文嚼字地读诗,你会
发现
到头来,诗歌栖居着诚意。
可以握持的双手,允许
瞳孔扩张的眼,竖直站立的头发
如果非此不可,这些都异常重要,不是因为
高调的解释可以至于诗歌之上,而是因为
他们是极其
有用的。当它们变得过于衍生而成为
不知所云,
我们谁都可能被别人这么评论过,我们
不会崇拜那些
我们无法理解的东西:蝙蝠
倒挂生存,或觅食
充饥,大象推撞,野马奔驰,树下
不知疲倦
的狼,固执的评论员像马感觉到跳蚤一样
抽搐
他的皮肤,棒
球迷,统计学家 -
倒不是说我们
有理由歧视所谓的'商业文件和
教科书'; 所有的这些现象都
非常重要。但每个人
都必须
区分:当这些被半生不熟的诗人
拖进诗里,结果
便不是诗歌了,
只有当我们中的诗人可以成为
'想象力
的表达者’ - 高于
傲慢和琐碎,并能提交
验证,'想象的花园里活出了真实的蟾蜍',让
我们拥有
这些吧。而在当下,如果你一方面执意要求,
诗歌的所有素材
都带有它的原始性
而另一方面,
以求真实,你对诗歌便真的感兴趣了。
Poetry
I, too, dislike it: there are things that are important beyond all
this fiddle.
Reading it, however, with a perfect contempt for it, one
discovers in
it after all, a place for the genuine.
Hands that can grasp, eyes
that can dilate, hair that can rise
if it must, these things are important not because a
high-sounding interpretation can be put upon them but because
they are
useful. When they become so derivative as to become
unintelligible,
the same thing may be said for all of us, that we
do not admire what
we cannot understand: the bat
holding on upside down or in quest of something to
eat, elephants pushing, a wild horse taking a roll, a tireless wolf
under
a tree, the immovable critic twitching his skin like a horse that
feels a
flea, the base-
ball fan, the statistician--
nor is it valid
to discriminate against 'business documents and
school-books'; all these phenomena are important. One must
make a distinction
however: when dragged into prominence by half poets, the
result is not poetry,
nor till the poets among us can be
'literalists of
the imagination'--above
insolence and triviality and can present
for inspection, 'imaginary gardens with real toads in them', shall
we have
it. In the meantime, if you demand on the one hand,
the raw material of poetry in
all its rawness and
that which is on the other hand,
genuine, you are interested in poetry.
贪婪和真理有时相互作用
我不喜欢钻石;
翡翠色的“草灯光”更好;
而得体的谦逊,
使人赞叹。
一些致谢令人难堪。
诗人们,不要大惊小怪;
大象“弯曲的小号”“的确书写”;
至于我正在读的一本老虎之书——
我认为你知道这本书——
我承担着义务。
一个,可能被宽恕,是的,我知道,
一个可能因爱而永恒。
(倪志娟 译)
Voracities and Verities Sometimes are Interacting
I don"t like diamonds;
the emerald"s "grass-lamp glow" is better;
and unobtrusiveness is dazzling,
upon occasion.
Some kinds of gratitude are trying.
Poets, don"t make a fuss;
the elephant"s "crooked trumpet" "doth write";
and to a tiger-book I am reading -
I think you know the one -
I am under obligatioin.
One may be pardoned, yes I know
one may, for love undying.
精神是一种迷人的东西
是一种有魔力的东西。
如同纺织娘
翅膀上的釉,
被太阳细分出
无数网格。
如同吉塞金演奏斯卡拉蒂*
如同无翼鸟锥形的**
喙,或者
几维鸟毛绒绒的
羽毛蓑衣,精神
虽然盲目却能感知它的方向,
眼睛盯着路面,一路走来。
它有记忆的耳朵,
不需要刻意去听
就可以听见。
如同陀螺的降落,
一种真正的模棱两可,
因为压倒一切的确定性保持着它的平衡。
它是一种功率强大的魅力。
如同鸽子的
脖颈,在太阳下
生机勃勃;它是记忆的眼睛,
它是诚实的前后矛盾。
它从它的眼中,撕去了面纱;
撕去了诱惑,
和心灵的
薄雾——如果心灵
有一张脸的话;它剖析
沮丧。它是鸽子脖颈上
彩虹色的火焰;是斯卡拉蒂似的
前后矛盾。
清晰提交它的混乱
作为证据;它
不是希律王不可被更改的誓言。
(倪志娟 译)
注:
*沃尔特 吉塞金,法国钢琴家。
* D.斯卡拉蒂,意大利音乐家
**几维鸟新西兰的稀有鸟类。体大如鸡,翼与尾均退化,喙长而微弯,鼻孔位于喙的尖端(此点与众不同)。夜出挖取蠕虫等为食,白天钻入地面的洞穴或树根下隐藏。叫声有如尖哨声,并常发出“kiwi…”声,故名几维。
The Mind is a wonderful Thing
is an enchanted thing
like the glaze on a
katydid-wing
subdivided by sun
till the nettings are legion.
Like Giesking playing Scarltti;
like the apteryx-awl
as a beak, or the
kiwi"s rain-shawl
of haired feathers, the mind
feeling its way as though blind,
walks along with its eyes on the ground.
It has memory"s ear
that can hear without
having to hear.
Like the gyroscope"s fall,
truly equivocal
because trued by regnant certainty,
it is a power of strong enchantment. It
is like the dove-
neck animated by
sun; it is memory"s eye;
it"s conscientious inconsistency.
It tears off the veil; tears
the temptation, the
mist the heart wears,
from its eyes - if the heart
has a face; it takes apart
dejection. It"s fire in the dove-neck"s
iridescence; in the inconsistencies
of Scarlatti.
Unconfusion submits
its confusion to proof; it"s
not a Herod"s oath that cannot change.
光谱原色时代*
不是亚当和夏娃共同生活的时代,而是亚当
独自一人的时代;在没有烟尘,没有
早期文明艺术的
雕琢,色彩只因它的本色
而美丽的时代;那时,雾只是升起,没有
任何修饰,斜线不过是
垂直线的改变,一切如此清晰可见
亦可明白解释:现在
则不再如此;不再有明亮清晰的
蓝-红-黄的光谱组合显示的彩色条纹:它也变成
因标新立异而难以理解的
事物之一;复杂不是一种罪,除非
它变得晦涩,
含混。此外,
复杂,意味着已经屈从于黑暗,却不承认
自己是一种瘟疫,到处弥漫,
仿佛要以阴暗的谬误
迷惑我们:坚持
就是成功的方法,而所有的
真理一定是黑暗的。诡辩总是逞
口舌之利——与最初的伟大真理
相悖。“它的一截身体在爬行,另一截
正准备爬行,剩余部分
蜷曲在洞里冬眠。”**无数短足,断断续续地
前进,发出咯咯声和细微的抖动——我们有这样经典的
多重韵脚。要视宗旨而定!真理
不是阿波罗神殿,不是有形之物。如果它愿意,波浪可以淹没它。
它知道自己一直在那里,所以说,
“波浪过去时我将仍在原地。”
(倪志娟 译)
注:
*“prismatic colour”指光线透过三棱镜(prism)所呈现的七种原色,红、橙、黄、绿、蓝、靛、紫。此处“prismatic colour”是原始的(pristine)象征,代表本真(originality)。
**这一段话引自希腊神话中对龙的精彩描述。引用的这一段原文韵脚繁复,通过这种繁复的语言形式暗示了龙身体构造的复杂:无数韵脚对应着龙的无数短足。摩尔的意思是说,复杂并非不可取,但是要情形而定。
原色年代
不是亚当夏娃年代,而是亚当
单身一人时;没有尘烟,色彩
无损,没有早期艺术文明的
雕琢,仅仅因原创而美,
不经任何修饰,仅仅是
薄雾上升,倾斜是垂直的
一种变化,显而易见,
浅而容易说明:现在好景
不再;霓虹灯不再有
保持其条纹的蓝红黄波段:它也是
许多难以读出的复杂事物
之一;复杂不是犯罪,除非它
到了隐晦的地步,万事不再简单。
而且
故弄玄虚,一直忠实于黑暗,却不
承认自己是瘟疫,
瘟疫到处走动,以令人沮丧的谬误
使人困惑——坚持是成功的衡量标准
而真理必须是黑暗的。诡辩,世故,
仿佛一直——是原始真理的对立面
“部分在爬行,部分
即将爬行,其余的
在洞穴里无精打采。”短腿的,
断断续续的进步,嘀哩咕噜,以及所有细节——我们有经典的
多韵脚。要看为了什么目的!真理不是阿波罗
大理石雕塑,不是有形的物体。如果它乐意,波浪就可能会淹没它。
当它开口时,它就还在:
“波浪过去之后我还会在原处。”
(明迪 译)
In the Days of Prismatic Colour
not in the days of Adam and Eve, but when Adam
Was alone; when there was no smoke and colour was
fine, not with the refinement
of early civilization art, but because
of its originality; with nothing to modify it but the
mist that went up, obliqueness was a variation
of the perpendicular, plain to see and
to account for: it is no
longer that; nor did the blue-red-yellow band
of incandescence that was colour keep its stripe: it also is one of
those things into which much that is peculiar can be
read; complexity is not a crime, but carry
it to the point of murki-
ness and nothing is plain. Complexity,
moreover, that has been committed to darkness, instead of granting it-
self to be the pestilence that it is, moves all a-
bout as if to bewilder us with the dismal
fallacy that insistence
is the measure of achievement and that all
truth must be dark. Principally throat, sophistication is as it al-
ways has been-at the antipodes from the init-
ial great truths.“Part of it was crawling, part of it
was about to crawl, the rest
was torpid in its lair.”In the short-legged, fit-
ful advance, the gurgling and all the minutiae-we have the classic
multitude of feet. To what purpose! Truth is no Apollo
Belvedere, no formal thing. The wave may go over it if It likes.
Know that it will be there when it says,
“I shall be there when the wave has gone by.”
穿山甲
又一种甲胄动物——鳞甲
层层相叠,像圆锥形的云杉一样整齐,一直到尾部,
形成了不间断的
同心圆!近似于有头和腿并装备了坚韧沙囊的
朝鲜蓟,
这微型的晚间艺术工程师,
正是列奥纳多·达芬奇的复制品——
我们很少听说的、令人难忘的勤劳动物。
盔甲仿佛是多余的。但是对他而言,
隐藏的耳脊——
无遮蔽的、没有
突起的耳朵,有类似安全收缩装备的
鼻子以及闭上后无法穿透的
眼缝,都不是多余的;它是一个真正的食蚁兽,
绝不吃蟑螂,忍受着
疲惫不堪的孤独,夜晚,在月光
(尤其要借助于月光),穿行于陌生之地,
日出前才归来。他的手的外缘
可以承重,保护用于挖掘的
爪子。在树上
攀缘时,他一点也不好斗,
总是回避危险,
只会发出一阵无害的嘶嘶声;他保持着
威斯敏斯特教堂的铁蔓藤雕花栏杆上
那种柔弱的优雅,有时
把自己滚成一个球,
能抵抗任何外力的侵犯;他没有细瘦的脖子,尾巴
可以紧紧蜷起,以整洁的头为中心,一直盘绕到脚。
他有抵抗利刺的鳞甲;岩石中的洞穴
从里面封上土,因此
变得很暗。
太阳与月亮与白昼与夜晚与人与野兽,
每件事物都拥有一种光,
人及其所有的卑劣,
不应对此视而不见;每件事物都有奇妙之处!
“胆怯者也是可怖的,”这甲胄的食蚁兽
遭遇兵蚁时,绝不后退,而是
吞噬他所能吞噬的一切,当兵蚁为了报复,
蜂拥着爬上他的身体,
他放平尾部和身体上锋利的
叶状鳞片,剧烈地颤抖着,四肢和身体变得密不透风,如同
伽格拉斯雕刻的斗牛士头上
那顶帽子的卷边。最后它跌落在地
毫发无损地
溜走了。当然,如果没有受到侵扰,
他也能借助尾巴,小心地
爬下树。穿山甲那巨大的
尾巴,是一件优雅得体的工具,作为支柱或手或扫帚或斧头,
其顶端如同大象的鼻尖,有特殊的皮肤。
对于这难以被伤害的甲胄动物来说,
并不是无用的。人们通常认为,
他靠石头和蚂蚁为生,是一种活生生的
神话传说。穿山甲不具侵略性;在
黄昏与黎明之间,他有坦克似的
外形和漂浮似的爬行,
优雅地适应了逆境。
阐释上帝的恩宠需要
一双奇特的手。如果现存的一切不是永恒的,
人们为何要用动物形象装饰教堂尖顶,使其显得优美,
在那精巧的石柱之间,为何要雕刻
丰美的矮石座来承托石像——一个又一个修道士的石像——
为何要辛勤地工作,融合
多重美德,爱邻人并信奉宽恕,
为何要在石制窗框中巧妙地运用
至今仍受到赞赏的
十字型窗棂?一艘海船
是第一机械。穿山甲,也是如此。
用四条腿,沉默地滑行,
堪称精确的典范;有时它按照人特有的姿势,
用后腿直行。在太阳和月亮下,人们为了活得更好,
努力工作着,却忽视了另一半值得拥有的鲜花。
必须聪明地选择如何运用他的力量;
黄蜂似的造纸者;蚂蚁似的
食物搬运工;悬挂在绝壁上的
蜘蛛似的
结网者;在战斗中,配备
穿山甲似的机械装置;在沮丧中
倾覆。俗气或完全
赤裸裸的人,自我,我们称为人的存在,世界的
书写者,一个黑暗的怪兽,
“厌恶他可憎的同类”,不肯原谅他人的
过错。在动物中,只有人才有幽默感:
幽默消除了一些困扰,节省了时间。他稍具见解,
谦逊,冷漠,又感情用事,
有不屈不饶的毅力,
和前进的能力,
是能使其他生物呼吸加快、寒毛竖立的
为数不多的动物之一。
有时毫不畏惧,
有时胆怯不前,有时步履谨慎,好像
每一步都会遭遇不测。符合
如下标准——温血,无鳃,有四肢和少许毛发——
他
是一种哺乳动物;坐在自己的栖息地,
穿着毛料衣服,厚重的鞋子。被恐惧追逐。他,总是
缩头缩脑,黯然失色,因黑夜来临而受挫,遗憾于
未竟的事业,
对替换黑夜的光明说,
“太阳将再次升起!
新的一天到来;新的新的新的
阳光进入我的心灵,并安抚我的灵魂。”
(倪志娟 译)
The Pangolin
Another armored animal–scale
lapping scale with spruce-cone regularity until they
form the uninterrupted central
tail row! This near artichoke with head and legs and
grit-equipped gizzard,
the night miniature artist engineer is,
yes, Leonardo da Vinci’s replica–
impressive animal and toiler of whom we seldom hear.
Armor seems extra. But for him,
the closing ear-ridge–
or bare ear licking even this small
eminence and similarly safe
contracting nose and eye apertures
impenetrably closable, are not;–a true ant-eater,
not cockroach-eater, who endures
exhausting solitary trips through unfamiliar ground at night,
returning before sunrise; stepping in the moonlight,
on the moonlight peculiarly, that the outside
edges of his hands may bear the weight and save the
claws
for digging. Serpentined about
the tree, he draws
away from danger unpugnaciously,
with no sound but a harmless hiss; keeping
the fragile grace of the Thomas-
of-Leighton Buzzard Westminster Abbey wrought-iron
vine, or
rolls himself into a ball that has
power to defy all effort to unroll it; strongly intailed, neat
head for core, on neck not breaking off, with curled-in feet.
Nevertheless he has sting-proof scales; and nest
of rocks closed with earth from inside, which he can
thus darken.
Sun and moon and day and night and man and beast
each with a splendor
which man in all his vileness cannot
set aside; each with an excellence!
"Fearful yet to be feared," the armored
ant-eater met by the driver-ant does not turn back, but
engulfs what he can, the flattered sword-
edged leafpoints on the tail and artichoke set leg-and
body-plates
quivering violently when it retaliates
and swarms on him. Compact like the furled fringed frill
on the hat-brim of Gargallo’s hollow iron head of a
matador, he will drop and will
then walk away
unhurt, although if unintruded on,
he cautiously works down the tree, helped
by his tail. The giant-pangolin-
tail, graceful tool, as prop or hand or broom or ax, tipped like
an elephant’s trunk with special skin,
is not lost on this ant-and stone-swallowing uninjurable
artichoke which simpletons thought a living fable
whom the stones had nourished, whereas ants had done
so. Pangolins are not aggressive animals; between
dusk and day they have the not unchain-like machine-like
form and frictionless creep of a thing
made graceful by adversities, con-
versities. To explain grace requires
a curious hand. If that which is at all were not forever,
why would those who graced the spires
with animals and gathered there to rest, on cold luxurious
low stone seats–a monk and monk and monk–between the
thus
ingenious roof-supports, have slaved to confuse
grace with a kindly manner, time in which to pay a
debt,
the cure for sins, a graceful use
of what are yet
approved stone mullions branching out across
the perpendiculars? A sailboat
was the first machine. Pangolins, made
for moving quietly also, are models of exactness,
on four legs; on hind feet plantigrade,
with certain postures of a man. Beneath sun and moon,
man slaving
to make his life more sweet, leaves half the flowers worth
having,
needing to choose wisely how to use his strength;
a paper-maker like the wasp; a tractor of foodstuffs,
like the ant; spidering a length
of web from bluffs
above a stream; in fighting, mechanicked
like to pangolin; capsizing in
disheartenment. Bedizened or stark
naked, man, the self, the being we call human, writing-
master to this world, griffons a dark
"Like does not like like that is obnoxious"; and writes error
with four
r’s. Among animals, one has a sense of humor.
Humor saves a few steps, it saves years. Uningnorant,
modest and unemotional, and all emotion,
he has everlasting vigor,
power to grow,
though there are few creatures who can make one
breathe faster and make one erecter.
Not afraid of anything is he,
and then goes cowering forth, tread paced to meet an obstacle
at every step. Consistent with the
formula–warm blood, no gills, two pairs of hands and a few
hairs–that
is a mammal; there he sits in his own habitat,
serge-clad, strong-shod. The prey of fear, he, always
curtailed, extinguished, thwarted by the dusk, work
partly done,
says to the alternating blaze,
"Again the sun!
anew each day; and new and new and new,
that comes into and steadies my soul."
尖塔修理工
丢勒一定发现了
在这样一个小镇生活的理由,在八条搁浅的
鲸鱼身上;在晴天,涌入房间的
新鲜海洋空气中;在雕刻着
鱼鳞似波浪的
水面上。
海鸥三三两两,绕着镇上的钟楼
盘旋,
或者在灯塔附近滑翔,翅膀一动不动——
身体微微颤动,
平稳地升高——或者,只是聚在一起
咪咪叫唤,
海洋那孔雀颈羽似的紫
正在逐渐变淡,变成泛绿的蔚蓝色,如同丢勒
将特里尔的松绿变成孔雀蓝和珍珠鸡似的
灰。你能看见一只二十五磅重的
龙虾;以及正在晾晒的
鱼网。暴风雨喧嚣的锣鼓
吹弯了盐沼地上的
草,弄乱了天上的星星和尖塔上的
星星;看见这么多混乱
是一种荣幸。对立
成就了美。雾
留恋着
海边的花和树,让你的视线
有了回旋之地:喇叭藤,
酒壶花,高大的金鱼草,长满斑点和斜纹的
蛾蝶花;牵牛,葫芦,
或者后门外
与钓鱼绳纠缠的月藤;
狼尾草,菖蒲,蓝莓,紫露,
斑纹草,青苔,太阳花,紫苑和雏菊——
黄色的蟹爪,如衣衫褴褛的海员,佩戴着绿色的花蕾——毒菌,
矮牵牛,蕨;粉色的百合,蓝色的
老虎花;罂粟;黑豌豆。
这里的气候
不适宜榕树,鸡蛋花,或
菠萝蜜;也不适宜
外来的蛇。你看见的,只是蜥蜴和它褪下的皮;
人们依靠猫,而不是眼镜蛇
来捕捉老鼠。这里
生长着
胆怯的小蝾螈,它们黑色的飘带上妆点着
白色小圆点;没有什么
能被野心收买或带走。名叫安伯罗斯的大学生
带着他的外文书和帽子,
坐在山坡上,
欣赏海上的航船
划破白色的巨浪,好像行驶在
深沟中。他喜欢一种
并非源于虚饰的优雅,深知木板叠构而成的
古式糖碗形的
凉亭,和教堂的
尖顶
并不可靠,一个穿红色衣服的男人
悬挂在一根绳子上,像一只吐丝的蜘蛛;
他也许是一篇小说中的人物,但是人行道上的一幅
白底黑字的告示写着:C. J.普勒,
尖塔修理工;一幅
白底红字的告示写着:
危险。教堂的门廊有四根长笛似的
柱子,每一根都嵌在一块独立的基石中,
被水洗得发白,显得更拙朴。那里
为流浪汉,孩子,动物,囚犯
以及通过遗忘
报复了心怀鬼胎的参议员们的
总统,提供了一个合适的避风港。小镇上
有一所学校,一个设在百货店里的
邮局,渔房,鸡场,木制的三桅
大帆船。英雄,学生,
尖塔修理工,每个人都走在回家的
路上。
居住在这样一个小镇,
这样一群朴素的人中,不可能有什么危险,
他们有一个尖塔修理工,在教堂上发送危险信号,
他正在给塔顶的星星镀金,
这星星在尖塔上
代表着希望。
(倪志娟 译)
The Steeple-Jack
Dürer would have seen a reason for living
in a town like this, with eight stranded whales
to look at; with the sweet sea air coming into your house
on a fine day, from water etched
with waves as formal as the scales
on a fish.
One by one in two's and three's, the seagulls keep
flying back and forth over the town clock,
or sailing around the lighthouse without moving their wings --
rising steadily with a slight
quiver of the body -- or flock
mewing where
a sea the purple of the peacock's neck is
paled to greenish azure as Dürer changed
the pine green of the Tyrol to peacock blue and guinea
gray. You can see a twenty-five-
pound lobster; and fish nets arranged
to dry. The
whirlwind fife-and-drum of the storm bends the salt
marsh grass, disturbs stars in the sky and the
star on the steeple; it is a privilege to see so
much confusion. Disguised by what
might seem the opposite, the sea-
side flowers and
trees are favored by the fog so that you have
the tropics first hand: the trumpet-vine,
fox-glove, giant snap-dragon, a salpiglossis that has
spots and stripes; morning-glories, gourds,
or moon-vines trained on fishing-twine
at the back door;
cat-tails, flags, blueberries and spiderwort,
striped grass, lichens, sunflowers, asters, daisies --
yellow and crab-claw ragged sailors with green bracts -- toad-plant,
petunias, ferns; pink lilies, blue
ones, tigers; poppies; black sweet-peas.
The climate
is not right for the banyan, frangipani, or
jack-fruit trees; or for exotic serpent
life. Ring lizard and snake-skin for the foot, if you see fit;
but here they've cats, not cobras, to
keep down the rats. The diffident
little newt
with white pin-dots on black horizontal spaced-
out bands lives here; yet there is nothing that
ambition can buy or take away. The college student
named Ambrose sits on the hillside
with his not-native books and hat
and sees boats
at sea progress white and rigid as if in
a groove. Liking an elegance of which
the sourch is not bravado, he knows by heart the antique
sugar-bowl shaped summer-house of
interlacing slats, and the pitch
of the church
spire, not true, from which a man in scarlet lets
down a rope as a spider spins a thread;
he might be part of a novel, but on the sidewalk a
sign says C. J. Poole, Steeple Jack,
in black and white; and one in red
and white says
Danger. The church portico has four fluted
columns, each a single piece of stone, made
modester by white-wash. Theis would be a fit haven for
waifs, children, animals, prisoners,
and presidents who have repaid
sin-driven
senators by not thinking about them. The
place has a school-house, a post-office in a
store, fish-houses, hen-houses, a three-masted schooner on
the stocks. The hero, the student,
the steeple-jack, each in his way,
is at home.
It could not be dangerous to be living
in a town like this, of simple people,
who have a steeple-jack placing danger signs by the church
while he is gilding the solid-
pointed star, which on a steeple
stands for hope.
挑拣和选择
文学是一种生活状态:即使你害怕,
处境也不可更改;如果你亲近它,
你对它所说的就毫无价值。
晦涩的典故——模仿向上飞行,
什么也成就不了。为什么要遮蔽这个事实呢?
肖伯纳在情感领域是自觉的,
但在其他方面是功利的。詹姆斯
正如人们所说的那样。不是小说家哈代
或诗人哈代,而是一个男人将生活阐释成情感。
戈登·克雷格连同他的“这是我”和“这是我的”,
连同他的三个聪明男人,他的“忧伤的法国绿色植物”和他的中国樱桃,
戈登·克雷格,如此随心所欲,厚颜无耻——这是对他的一种评价。
伯克是一个心理学家——敏锐,像浣熊一样好奇。
无比勤勉;对骗子来说他的名字如此有趣——
非常年轻,非常冒失——,恺撒越过了阿尔卑斯山,
登上了“勤奋”的顶峰!
我们对意义并不迟钝,
但是对虚假意义的亲切感使人迷惑。
嗡嗡的臭虫,不导电的蜡烛。
小狗,跑过草地,啃咬亚麻,说
你有一只獾——记住色诺芬;
最根本的行为是必须使我们有气味。
“保留狂吠的正当权利”,耳朵间的皮肤上
一些深刻的皱纹,是我们要问的全部。
(倪志娟 译)
《福尔马林中的孩子》
一共几个瓶子?
记不得了
最小的一个只装了一个受精卵
最大的一个装了一个近乎成熟的胎儿
印象最深的
两个孩子对面拱手,共用一个胎盘
他们似乎在看着对方微笑
时间在这里空转,
你能听见,轮胎烧焦的轰鸣。
——抒情多么苍白,
上帝不吃这套。
许多年以后
我仍心存疑虑
他们是谁的孩子?
谁又是他们的父母?
被禁固在福尔马林瓶中
肉身不腐的婴儿啊
你微张的嘴
是想呐喊?
还是想要重生?
2021.03.19