预告 | 新晋诺奖诗人露易丝·格丽克诗歌双语品读会|纯真年代书吧二十周年系列文化活动(4)
“任何读过格丽克诗歌的人都会被她不愿轻易接受共同的信仰原则所打动,在这一点上,她像艾米莉·狄金森。她勇敢地攻击自己的妄想,并且面对生活中的深刻冲突,尤其是试图弄清自己成长过程中的家庭困境。这样看的话,她便是一个智慧的诗人,朴实、毫不妥协。”
2020诺贝尔文学奖得主
美国女诗人露易丝·格丽克
诗歌双语品读会
2020年11月1日(周日)19:00
环节一:朗读嘉宾
环节二:品读嘉宾
柳向阳:诗人、格丽克诗歌中文译者
泉 子:诗人、《诗建设》主编
晏 榕:诗人、诗评家、教授
殷企平:教授、原杭州师范大学外语学院院长
环节三:杭州师范大学敦雅书社纯真年代书吧挂牌仪式
主办单位
纯真年代书吧 杭州师范大学敦雅书社 诗建设 浙江图书馆文澜朗诵团
媒体支持
华语之声 钱报读书会
主持人
朱锦绣:纯真年代书吧女主人
露易丝·格丽克(Louise Glück,1943~),美国当代女诗人,2003-2004年美国桂冠诗人。现居住在麻省剑桥,任教于耶鲁大学。“因为她充满诗意的声音,朴素的美使个体的存在具有普遍性”获得2020年诺贝尔文学奖。至今著有十二本诗集和一本诗随笔集《证据与理论》(1994)。2012年11月出版诗合集《诗1962-2012》。主要诗(文)集包括:《头生子》(Firstborn),1968;《沼泽地上的房子》(The House on Marshland),1975;《下降的形象》(Descending Figure),1980;《阿基里斯的胜利》(The Triumph of Achilles),1985;《阿勒山》(Ararat),1990;《野鸢尾花》(The Wild Iris),1992。
柳向阳,译者。2006年,柳向阳开始翻译格丽克的诗作;2016年格丽克第一本诗集的中文译本出版。将近十五年,译者柳向阳成为一座桥梁——将格丽克诗歌中最幽微精深的情感传达给中国读者。
他认为,与美国其他诗人相比,格丽克最大的特点是对古希腊文化的重视。
露易丝·格丽克
诗歌欣赏
一则故事
A FABLE
中文朗读者:徐薇
英文朗读者:何畅
两个女人
来到那位智慧国王的脚下
提出同一认领要求。
两个女人,
但只有一个婴儿。
国王知道
有一个人在撒谎。
他说的却是
就将这孩子
一劈两半吧;这样
就没有哪个
空手而回。他
拔剑——
那时,两个
女人中,有一个
断然放弃她的那份:
这就是
标记,教训。
假定
你看到你妈妈
在两个女儿之间被撕扯:
你能做什么
来挽救她,除了
甘愿摧残
你自己——她就会知道
谁是那个有义的孩子,
谁是那个不忍心
劈开妈妈的孩子。
A FABLE
Two women with
the same claim
came to the feet of
the wise king. Two women,
but only one baby.
The king knew
someone was lying.
What he said was
Let the child be
cut in half; that way
no one will go
empty-handed. He
drew his sword.
Then, of the two
women, one
renounced her share:
this was
the sign, the lesson.
Suppose
you saw your mother
torn between two daughters:
what could you do
to save her but be
willing to destroy
yourself—she would know
who was the rightful child,
the one who couldn’t bear
to divide the mother.
致秋天
——给基思·奥尔索斯
TO AUTUMN
中文朗读者:董海楠
英文朗读者:周敏
清晨在荆棘中颤动;含苞的雪花莲上
露珠凝聚如娇小的处女,杜鹃灌丛
吐出最初的新叶。又是春天了。
柳树等待它的时机,海岸
粘着薄薄一层淡绿的绒毛,期待着
塑形。只有我
没有参与,因为
早已盛开过。我已不再年轻。这
有什么关系?夏天临近,等到漫长的
腐烂的秋日,我将开始写作
我中期的伟大诗篇。
TO AUTUMN
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.
晨曲
AUBADE
中文朗读者:段铁
英文朗读者:殷企平
世界很大。然后
世界变小。噢
很小,小得能够
装入大脑。
它没有颜色,它全部是
内在的空间:没有什么
进去或出来。但时间
还是渗透了进去,这
就是那悲剧的一面。
那些年,我把时间看得极其重要,
如果我现在记得准确的话。
一个房间,有一把椅子,一扇窗。
一扇小窗,填满了光线做成的图案。
在它的虚空里,世界
总是完整的,而不是
某物的一个碎片,有
自我在那中心。
而在自我的中心,
悲伤,我以为自己无法挺过去。
一个房间,有一张床,一张桌子。光
在裸露的表面上闪烁。
我曾有两个渴望:
渴望安全,渴望感受。似乎
世界正在做出
一个反对白色的决定
因为它鄙视可能性,
想用实在的事物来取代它:
窗格
金黄,在光线照到的地方。
在窗里,紫叶山毛榉的叶子
略带红色。
从停滞中,事实,物体
模糊或缠绕一起:某个地方
时间涌动,时间
正叫喊着要被触摸,要变得
明显可见,
磨光的木头
微光闪闪,纹路清晰——
而那时,我又一次
成为一个孩子,在丰饶面前
却不知道那丰饶由什么做成。
AUBADE
The world was very large. Then
the world was small. O
very small, small enough
to fit in a brain.
It had no color, it was all
interior space: nothing
got in or out. But time
seeped in anyway, that
was the tragic dimension.
I took time very seriously in those years,
if I remember accurately.
A room with a chair, a window.
A small window, filled with the patterns light makes.
In its emptiness the world
was whole always, not
a chip of something, with
the self at the center.
And at the center of the self,
grief I thought I couldn’t survive.
A room with a bed, a table. Flashes
of light on the naked surfaces.
I had two desires: desire
to be safe and desire to feel. As though
the world were making
a decision against white
because it disdained potential
and wanted in its place substance:
panels
of gold where the light struck.
In the window, reddish
leaves of the copper beech tree.
Out of the stasis, facts, objects
blurred or knitted together: somewhere
time stirring, time
crying to be touched, to be
palpable,
the polished wood
shimmering with distinctions—
and then I was once more
a child in the presence of riches
and I didn’t know what the riches were made of.
晴朗的早晨
CLEAR MORNING
中文朗读者:黄海敏、周沐罕
英文朗读者:金佳
我观察你已经够久了,
我可以随心所欲地跟你讲话——
我已经接受了你的偏好,耐心地观察
你喜爱的事物,说话
只通过工具,用
泥土的细节,如你所好,
蓝色铁线莲的
卷须,傍晚时的
亮光——
你永远不会接受
像我这种腔调,漠不关心
你正忙于命名的事物,
你的嘴
惊恐的小圆圈——
而这次我一直
容忍你的弱点,想着
你迟早会自己把它丢在一边,
想着物质不可能永远吸引你的凝视——
铁线莲的栅栏正在门廊的窗上
绘着蓝色的花朵——
我无法继续
将自己局限于图像
因为你认为质疑我的意思
是你的权力:
如今我已准备好
将清晰强加于你。
CLEAR MORNING
I’ve watched you long enough,
I can speak to you any way I like—
I’ve submitted to your preferences, observing patiently
the things you love, speaking
through vehicles only, in
details of earth, as you prefer,
tendrils
of blue clematis, light
of early evening—
you would never accept
a voice like mine, indifferent
to the objects you busily name,
your mouths
small circles of awe—
And all this time
I indulged your limitation, thinking
you would cast it aside yourselves sooner or later,
thinking matter could not absorb your gaze forever—
obstacle of the clematis painting
blue flowers on the porch window—
I cannot go on
restricting myself to images
because you think it is your right
to dispute my meaning:
I am prepared now to force
clarity upon you.
别离
DEPARTURE
中文朗读者:王维琳
英文朗读者:吉灵娟
夜不黑;黑的是这世界。
和我再多呆一会儿。
你的双手在椅背上——
这一幕我将记住。
之前,轻轻拨弄着我的肩膀。
像一个人训练自己怎样躲避内心。
另一个房间里,女仆悄悄地
熄灭了我看书的灯。
那个房间和它的石灰墙壁——
我想知道,它还怎么保护你
一旦你的漂泊开始?我想你的眼睛将寻找出
它的亮光,与月光对抗。
很明显,这么多年之后,你需要距离
来理解它的强烈。
你的双手在椅背上,拨弄着
我的身体和木头,恰以同样的方式。
像一个想再次感受渴望的人,
他珍视渴望甚于一切别的情感。
海边,希腊农夫们的声音,
急于看到日出。
仿佛黎明将把他们从农夫
变成英雄。
而那之前,你正抱着我,因为你就要离开——
这些是你此刻的陈述,
并非需要回答的问题。
我怎么能知道你爱我
除非我看到你为我悲伤?
DEPARTURE
The night isn’t dark; the world is dark.
Stay with me a little longer. Your hands on the back of the chair—
that’s what I’ll remember.
Before that, lightly stroking my shoulders.
Like a man training himself to avoid the heart.
In the other room, the maid discreetly
putting out the light I read by.
That room with its chalk walls—
how will it look to you I wonder
once your exile begins? I think your eyes will seek out
its light as opposed to the moon.
Apparently, after so many years, you need
distance to make plain its intensity. Your hands on the chair, stroking
my body and the wood in exactly the same way.
Like a man who wants to feel longing again,
who prizes longing above all other emotion.
On the beach, voices of the Greek farmers,
impatient for sunrise.
As though dawn will change them
from farmers into heroes.
And before that, you are holding me because you are going away—
these are statements you are making,
not questions needing answers.
How can I know you love me
unless I see you grieve over me?
预兆
OMENS
中文朗读者:管小红
英文朗读者:卜杭宾
我骑马与你相会:梦
像生命之物在我四周聚集
而月亮在我右边
跟着我,燃烧。
我骑马回来:一切都已改变。
我恋爱的灵魂悲伤不已
而月亮在我左边
无望地跟着我。
我们诗人放任自己
沉迷于这些无休止的印象,
在沉默中,虚构着只是事件的预兆,
直到这世界反映了灵魂最深层的需要。
仿亚历山大·普希金
OMENS
I rode to meet you: dreams
like living beings swarmed around me
and the moon on my right side
followed me, burning.
I rode back: everything changed.
My soul in love was sad
and the moon on my left side
trailed me without hope.
To such endless impressions
we poets give ourselves absolutely,
making, in silence, omen of mere event,
until the world reflects the deepest needs of the soul.
after Alexander Pushkin
国王的寓言
PARABLE OF THE KING
中文朗诵者:赵佳树
英文朗诵者:应璎
那位伟大的国王眼望前方
看到的不是命运
而只是黎明闪耀
在无名岛上:作为国王
他思考必行之事——最好
不重新考虑方向,最好
一直向前
在波光粼粼的水上。无论如何,
所谓命运,只是忽略历史
及其伦理困境的
一个策略,审视当下的
一种方式,并由此
做出决定,正如过去(国王
作为年轻王子的形象)和辉煌的未来
(年轻女奴的形象)
之间的必要联系。无论
前方是什么,为什么必须
如此眩目?有谁能已经知道
那不是通常的太阳
而是火焰,正升起在一个
即将灭绝的世界之上?
PARABLE OF THE KING
The great king looking ahead
saw not fate but simply
dawn glittering over
the unknown island: as a king
he thought in the imperative—best
not to reconsider direction, best
to keep going forward
over the radiant water. Anyway,
what is fate but a strategy for ignoring
history, with its moral
dilemmas, a way of regarding
the present, where decisions
are made, as the necessary
link between the past (images of the king
as a young prince) and the glorious future (images
of slave girls). Whatever
it was ahead, why did it have to be
so blinding? Who could have known
that wasn’t the usual sun
but flames rising over a world
about to become extinct?
冬天结束
END OF WINTER
中文朗诵者:诸海燕
英文朗诵者:田颖
寂静世界之上,一只鸟的鸣叫
唤醒了黑枝条间的荒凉。
你想要出生,我让你出生。
什么时候我的悲伤妨碍了
你的快乐?
急急向前
进入黑暗和光亮,同时
急于感知
仿佛你是某种新事物,想要
表达你自己
所有的光彩,所有的活泼
从来不想
这将让你付出什么,
从来不设想我的嗓音
恰恰不是你的一部分——
你不会在另一个世界听到它,
再不会清晰地,
再不会是鸟鸣或人的叫喊,
不是清晰的声音,只是
持续的回声
用全部的声音表示着再见,再见——
那条连续的线
把我们缚在一起。
END OF WINTER
Over the still world, a bird calls
waking solitary among black boughs.
You wanted to be born; I let you be born.
When has my grief ever gotten
in the way of your pleasure?
Plunging ahead
into the dark and light at the same time
eager for sensation
as though you were some new thing, wanting
to express yourselves
all brilliance, all vivacity
never thinking
this would cost you anything,
never imagining the sound of my voice
as anything but part of you—
you won’t hear it in the other world,
not clearly again,
not in birdcall or human cry,
not the clear sound, only
persistent echoing
in all sound that means goodbye, goodbye—
the one continuous line
that binds us to each other.
十月
OCTOBER
中文朗诵者:晏榕
英文朗诵者:Richard
3.
雪已落下。我回忆起
一扇敞开的窗子里传出的音乐。
快来啊,世界喊道。
这不是说
它就讲了这样的句子
而是我以这种方式体察到了美。
太阳初升。一层水汽
在每样有生命的事物上。一洼洼冷光
在沟槽处积聚成形。
我站立
在那门口,
如今看起来多么荒谬。
别人在艺术中发现的,
我在自然中发现。别人
在人类之爱中发现的,我在自然中发现。
非常简单。但那儿没有声音。
冬天结束。解冻的泥土里,
几簇绿色才露出来。
快来啊,世界喊道。那时我穿着羊毛上衣
站在某个明亮的入口处——
如今我终于能说
很久以前;这给了我相当大的快乐。美
这位诊师,这位导师——
死亡也不能伤害我
像你已经伤害我这么深,
我心爱的生活。
OCTOBER
3.
Snow had fallen. I remember
music from an open window.
Come to me, said the world.
This is not to say
it spoke in exact sentences
but that I perceived beauty in this manner.
Sunrise. A film of moisture
on each living thing. Pools of cold light
formed in the gutters.
I stood
at the doorway,
ridiculous as it now seems.
What others found in art,
I found in nature. What others found
in human love, I found in nature.
Very simple. But there was no voice there.
Winter was over. In the thawed dirt,
bits of green were showing.
Come to me, said the world. I was standing
in my wool coat at a kind of bright portal—
I can finally say
long ago; it gives me considerable pleasure. Beauty
the healer, the teacher—
death cannot harm me
more than you have harmed me,
my beloved life.
十字路口
CROSSROADS
中文朗读者:梅子
英文朗读者:梅子
我的身体,我们不能再同行多久了,
我开始对你有了全新的柔情,那么生涩,陌生
犹如我记忆里年轻时的爱情——
那时的爱常常犯傻,傻在爱的目标
而不是爱的选择、爱的浓烈
事先要求的太多,不能允诺的也太多——
我的灵魂一直那么可怖、狂暴:原谅它的野蛮吧。
仿佛我的手便是灵魂,小心地抚摸过你,
不是想要冒犯,而是渴望能最终将表达化为实质:
我不舍的不会是大地,我不舍的将是你。
CROSSROADS
My body, now that we will not be traveling together much longer
I begin to feel a new tenderness toward you, very raw and unfamiliar,
like what I remember of love when I was young—
love that was so often foolish in its objectives
but never in its choices, its intensities.
Too much demanded in advance, too much that could not be promised —
My soul has been so fearful, so violent:
forgive its brutality.
As though it were that soul, my hand moves over you cautiously,
not wishing to give offense
but eager, finally, to achieve expression as substance:
it is not the earth I will miss,
it is you I will miss.
仙乐(译者:殷企平)
CELESTIAL MUSIC
中文朗读者:老滕
英文朗读者:殷企平
我有一个朋友,她仍笃信天堂。
她不傻,可谓世事洞明,却偏爱与上帝交谈。
她认为有人在听,就在天堂。
在尘世,她的能力非同寻常。
纵有千般不顺,她都无所畏惧,处之泰然。
我们发现泥土里有一只毛虫,正奄奄一息,贪婪的蚂蚁在它身上爬行。
我总因灾难动容,总欲反抗暴力,
却又因胆小而飞快地把眼睛闭上。
可我那朋友能正视灾难,不管发生什么,
都能顺其自然。可这次为了我,她出手
抹去那些蚂蚁,把撕裂了的毛虫送过马路
并轻轻放下。
我那朋友说我憎恶现实,是因为对上帝视而不见,
此外再无原因。她说我就像孩子
把头在枕头底下躲藏,
什么也看不见,还告诉自己
是光导致了悲伤——
我那朋友就像母亲。耐心地催促我
醒来,变成像她那样的成人,一个勇敢的人。
在梦中,我那朋友在责备我。我们正走在
同一条路上,只不过眼下已是隆冬;
她告诉我,只要你热爱这个世界,你就能听见仙乐:
抬头看,她说。我抬起头,却一无所见。
只有云朵,白雪,一片白色纷纷落在林间
就像一群新娘飞往高处,婚纱飘曳——
于是我为她担心;我看见她
陷入一张大网,分明是被故意撒向地球的大网。
在现实中,我们坐在路边,观看落日;
寂静不时被鸟鸣刺破。
我们正欲解释这瞬间,
正轻松面对死亡,轻松面对孤独。
我那朋友在泥土上画了一个圈;里面,毛虫没有移动。
她总是在追求什么,求其全,求其美,一幅
生趣盎然的图景,纵然她置身其外。
我们非常安静。在这儿安坐着,不做声,音画
定格于那一瞬间。道路突然变黑,空气
骤冷,四处岩石在闪耀,光彩熠熠--
这,就是我们都爱的静寂。
爱形式,就是爱多种结局。
CELESTIAL MUSIC
I have a friend who still believes in heaven.
Not a stupid person, yet with all she knows, she literally talks to God.
She thinks someone listens in heaven.
On earth she's unusually competent.
Brave too, able to face unpleasantness.
We found a caterpillar dying in the dirt, greedy ants crawling over it.
I'm always moved by disaster, always eager to oppose vitality
But timid also, quick to shut my eyes.
Whereas my friend was able to watch, to let events play out
According to nature. For my sake she intervened
Brushing a few ants off the torn thing, and set it down
Across the road.
My friend says I shut my eyes to God, that nothing else explains
My aversion to reality. She says I'm like the child who
Buries her head in the pillow
So as not to see, the child who tells herself
That light causes sadness-
My friend is like the mother. Patient, urging me
To wake up an adult like herself, a courageous person-
In my dreams, my friend reproaches me. We're walking
On the same road, except it's winter now;
She's telling me that when you love the world you hear celestial music:
Look up, she says. When I look up, nothing.
Only clouds, snow, a white business in the trees
Like brides leaping to a great height-
Then I'm afraid for her; I see her
Caught in a net deliberately cast over the earth-
In reality, we sit by the side of the road, watching the sun set;
From time to time, the silence pierced by a birdcall.
It's this moment we're trying to explain, the fact
That we're at ease with death, with solitude.
My friend draws a circle in the dirt; inside, the caterpillar doesn't move.
She's always trying to make something whole, something beautiful, an image
Capable of life apart from her.
We're very quiet. It's peaceful sitting here, not speaking, The composition
Fixed, the road turning suddenly dark, the air
Going cool, here and there the rocks shining and glittering-
It's this stillness we both love.
The love of form is a love of endings.
品读嘉宾
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