酷我-北美枫

[金舟]

--金舟 译


露易丝.格吕克

(Louise Gluck)

新当选的美国国会图书馆桂冠诗人露易丝.格吕克1943年生于纽约，在哥伦比亚大学师从丝坦利.库尼茨，后在威廉姆丝学院获得了法律学位，毕业后曾在哥达德学院教书。出版有诗集《七个时代》（TheSevenAges2001），《新生》（VitaNova1999,获得《波士顿图书评论》主办的“宾汉诗歌奖”），《草地》（Meadowlands1996），《野鸢尾》（TheWildIris1992,获普利策诗歌奖和美国诗歌协会“W．C．威廉姆丝诗歌奖”），《阿拉若山》（Ararat1990,获R．C．罗比特国家诗歌奖），《阿喀琉丝的胜利》（TheTriumphofAchilles1985,获美国的全国书评奖）。格吕克还出版过一些评论及散文集。1999年当选为美国诗歌学会理事。2003年8月28日，美国国会图书馆在华盛顿宣布，普利策奖得主、著名女诗人露易丝.格吕克当选为新的美国国会图书馆桂冠诗人。





撤退的风



当我做成你们,我就爱着你们.

现在我怜悯你们.



我给了你们所需的一切:

大地之床,蓝天毛毯—



随着我进一步远离你们

我就更加看清楚你们.

你们的心灵如今应很阔大

它们不该是

多嘴的小东西—



我给了你们每一样礼物,

蔚蓝的春之晨,

时间之多你们都不知该怎样利用—

你们索要更多的礼物,那个为

另外的生物准备的礼物.



不论你们希望什么,

你们将不会在花园中在成长的植物中,

找到你们自己.

你们的生活不象它们那样是循环的:



你们的生活是鸟儿飞翔

在平静中开始和结束—

开始和结束,以类似这

弧形从白桦树

至苹果树.





Retreating Wind



When I made you, I loved you.

Now I pity you.



I gave you all you needed:

bed of earth, blanket of blue air--



As I get further away from you

I see you more clearly.

Your souls should have been immense by now,

not what they are,

small talking things--



I gave you every gift,

blue of the spring morning,

time you didn't know how to use--

you wanted more, the one gift

reserved for another creation.



Whatever you hoped,

you will not find yourselves in the garden,

among the growing plants.

Your lives are not circular like theirs:



your lives are the bird's flight

which begins and ends in stillness--

which begins and ends, in form echoing

this arc from the white birch

to the apple tree.





恐惧埋葬



在那空场地,在早晨,

那具尸体等待着认领.

幽灵坐其旁,在一块小岩石上—

没什么再来给它身形.



想着那尸体的孤独.

夜晚在修剪过的场地上踱步,

它的影子紧紧连接着四周.

如此一个漫长的旅途.



已见村庄那微颤的灯光

不为它停留依旧扫掠在路上.

它们看来还很远,

那些木门,面包和牛奶

象重物放在桌子上.





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.





晨歌



你想知道我如何打发我的时间?

我走在前面的草坪,假装

除草.你应该知道

我从不跪下除草,从不自

花床拉起几簇三叶草;其实

我正在寻找勇气,寻找我的生活

会改变的证据,尽管

需要花很久时间,检查

每一簇以寻找象征性的

叶子,很快夏日将终,叶子

已经转变,总是病树

在先,这将死的化为

亮黄色,而几只暗色的鸟表演

乐声唱晚.你想看我的手吗?

现仍是空空的就象在第一个音符上.

或是那要点没有

标记总是连续不断.





Matins



You want to know how I spend my time?

I walk the front lawn, pretending

to be weeding. You ought to know

I'm never weeding, on my knees, pulling

clumps of clover from the flower beds: in fact

I'm looking for courage, for some evidence

my life will change, though

it takes forever, checking

each clump for the symbolic

leaf, and soon the summer is ending, already

the leaves turning, always the sick trees

going first, the dying turning

brilliant yellow, while a few dark birds perform

their curfew of music. You want to see my hands?

As empty now as at the first note.

Or was the point always

to continue without a sign?





榆木





整天我都在试图区分

需要和欲望。现在，于黑暗中，

对我们，木材的营造和设计者，

我只有感到苦涩悲伤，

因为我一直不变地

注视着这些榆木

和看到扭曲苦痛

的过程，静止的树

是痛苦的，并理解到

它不会做成形除了扭曲之状。





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.







画像





一个孩子画着一幅人体轮廓。

她画她所能画的，但全是空白，

她不能在那填入她知道的东西。

在无支撑的线条内，她知道

生命正在消失；她切换

一个又一个背景。象个孩子

她转向她的母亲。



而你画那颗心

用以抵付她创造的空虚。





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.







奥德修斯的决定





那伟大的人返回到海岛上。

现在他不会死于天堂

也不再听到

橄榄林中天堂的琵琶，

在清澈池水边苍柏之下。时代



现在开始，他再次听见

叙事大海的脉搏，

当黎明拉起后最为强健。

带我们来这里的

会带我们离去；我们的船

在遭难的港口水中摇摆。



现在符咒终止了。

使他回到他的生活，

大海只能向前汹涌澎湃。



(注：奥德修斯是荷马史诗奥德赛中的英雄。)





Odysseus' Decision



The great man turns his back on the island.

Now he will not die in paradise

nor hear again

the lutes of paradise among the olive trees,

by the clear pools under the cypresses. Time



begins now, in which he hears again

that pulse which is the narrative

sea, ar dawn when its pull is stongest.

What has brought us here

will lead us away; our ship

sways in the tined harbor water.



Now the spell is ended.

Giove him back his life,

sea that can only move forward.









一个怪念头





我要告诉你一些事：每天

人都在死。而那仅是开始，

每天，在殡仪馆，出生新寡妇，

新孤儿。他们两手合拢而坐，

试着去决定这新的生命。



然后他们在墓地，其中有人

是第一次。他们惊恐哭泣，

有时不哭。有人走过来

告诉他们下一步做什么，可能

说几句话，有时

将土投入敞开的墓穴里。



而那以后，每个人都回到房里，

里面突然满是来访者。

那寡妇坐在长沙发上，非常庄严，

人们排队走近她，

有时握她的手，有时拥抱她。

她找些话对每个人说

感谢他们，感谢他们的到来。



在她内心，她却想让他们离去。

她想返回墓地，

返回医院的病房里。她知道

这是不可能的。但她唯一的希望，

是让时光倒流。而只是一点点，

不需远溯至结婚和初吻之际。



A Fantasy



I'll tell you something: every day

people are dying. And that's just the beginning.

Every day, in funeral homes, new widows are born,

new orphans. They sit with their hands folded,

trying to decide about this new life.



Then they're in the cemetery, some of them

for the first time. They're frightened of crying,

sometimes of not crying. Someone leans over,

tells them what to do next, which might mean

saying a few words, sometimes

throwing dirt in the open grave.



And after that, everyone goes back to the house,

which is suddenly full of visitors.

The widow sits on the couch, very stately,

so people line up to approach her,

sometimes take her hand, sometimes embrace her.

She finds something to say to everbody,

thanks them, thanks them for coming.



In her heart, she wants them to go away.

She wants to be back in the cemetery,

back in the sickroom, the hospital. She knows

it isn't possible. But it's her only hope,

the wish to move backward. And just a little,

not so far as the marriage, the first kiss.







四月





没人的绝望象我的一般—



在这花园中没有你想那种事，

制造向外标志的地方；显然

那男人铲除整个一片森林，

那女人拖拖沓沓，拒绝换衣服

或洗她的头发。



难道你以为我在乎

如果你跟另一个人交谈？

可我的意思是让你知道

我期望两个更好的生物

被赋予了头脑；不然

你们实际上会互相关照

至少你们会理解

悲伤被分摊

在你俩之间，在你所有的仁慈里面，

对于我去认识你，就如深蓝

标记着野海葱，白色标记着

木紫罗兰。





April



No one's despair is like my despair--



You have no place in this garden

thinking such things, producing

the tiresome outward signs; the man

pointedly weeding an entire forest,

the woman limping, refusing to change clothes

or wash her hair.



Do you suppose I care

if you speak to one another?

But I mean you to know

I expected better of two creatures

who were given minds: if not

that you would actually care for each other

at least that you would understand

grief is distributed

between you, among all your kind, for me

to know you, as deep blue

marks the wild scilla, white

the wood violet.



野鸢尾



在我的痛苦之端

有门一扇。

听我说：你称之为死亡

我记得。

头顶，噪声，松枝变幻。

然后皆无。微弱的太阳

闪烁在干枯的地面。

生存可怕

因知觉

被葬于地下黑暗。

后来结束：令你恐惧，存在

为灵魂而不

能言，突然终结，坚硬的大地

略弯。可我感觉是鸟儿

疾飞在低矮的灌木林间。

是你不记得了

迁移自另一个世界

我告诉你我能够再说一遍：不论什么

从忘却回归都返回

去寻找一个声音：

来自我生命的中心

一个巨大的源泉，在蔚蓝的

海水上幽影深蓝。





The Wild Iris



At the end of my suffering

there was a door.

Hear me out: that which you call death

I remember.

Overhead, noises, branches of the pine shifting.

Then nothing. The weak sun

flickered over the dry surface.

It is terrible to survive

as consciousness

buried in the dark earth.

Then it was over: that which you fear, being

a soul and unable

to speak, ending abruptly, the stiff earth

bending a little. And what I took to be

birds darting in low shrubs.

You who do not remember

passage from the other world

I tell you I could speak again: whatever

returns from oblivion returns

to find a voice:

from the center of my life came

a great fountain, deep blue

shadows on azure sea water.





瑟西的威力



我从未把任何人变成猪。

有人是猪；我使他们

看来象猪。

我讨厌你的世界

让外表乔装内在。你的人不坏；

懒散的生活

养成了他们的习性。作为猪

他们已变得温和

由于我和我的

女士们的呵护。

然后我逆转符咒，向你展示我的

仁慈和威力。我看到

我们在此能够快乐

作为男人和女人

他们的需求很简单。同时

我预见了你的离去

你的人因我的帮助敢於迎战

咆哮凶猛的大海。你想

几滴眼泪就让我倾覆？我的朋友，

每位女魔本质上都是

实用主义者；没有人看本质而不

面对局限。如果我只想占有你

我能扣留你为囚徒。



(注：瑟西为荷马史诗[奥德赛]中的女魔。)





Circe’s Power

I never turned anyone into a pig.

Some people are pigs; I make them

Look like pigs.

I'm sick of your world

That lets the outside disguise the inside. Your men weren't bad men;

Undisciplined life

Did that to them. As pigs,

Under the care of

Me and my ladies, they

Sweetened right up.

Then I reversed the spell, showing you my goodness

As well as my power. I saw

We could be happy here,

As men and women are

When their needs are simple. In the same breath,

I foresaw your departure,

Your men with my help braving

The crying and pounding sea. You think

A few tears upset me? My friend,

Every sorceress is

A pragmatist at heart; nobody sees essence who can't

Face limitation. If I wanted only to hold you

I could hold you prisoner.





瑟西的痛苦



我非常遗憾

爱你的这些年不管

你在与不在，遗憾

那法律，那神召

阻止我持有你，大海

一块玻璃板，太阳漂白的

希腊船美神；如何

我能有魔力假如

我没有意愿

将你改变：虽然

你爱我的身体，

虽然那时你发现

我们所拥有的激情在

一切礼物之上，在那独特瞬间

超越荣誉和希望，超越

忠诚，以那结合的名义

我拒绝你

因你妻子而有的这般情感

会让你同她

度过余年，我拒绝你

再次上床

如果我不能有你。



Circe's Torment

I regret bitterly

The years of loving you in both

Your presence and absence, regret

The law, the vocation

That forbid me to keep you, the sea

A sheet of glass, the sun-bleached

Beauty of the Greek ships: how

Could I have power if

I had no wish

To transform you: as

You loved my body,

As you found there

Passion we held above

All other gifts, in that single moment

Over honor and hope, over

Loyalty, in the name of that bond

I refuse you

Such feeling for your wife

As will let you

Rest with her, I refuse you

Sleep again

If I cannot have you.





坦白



说我没有恐惧—

那不是真的。

我害怕患病，蒙羞。

象任何人一样，我有我的梦想。

但我已经学会将它们藏起，

使自己不致于满足：所有快乐

都引发命运之神生气。

它们是姐妹，野人—

最终它们没有情感

只有妒忌。



Confession

To say I'm without fear--

It wouldn't be true.

I'm afraid of sickness, humiliation.

Like anyone, I have my dreams.

But I've learned to hide them,

To protect myself

From fulfillment: all happiness

Attracts the Fates' anger.

They are sisters, savages--

In the end they have

No emotion but envy.





马



什么马能给你

我不能给你？

我注视你当你孤寂，

当你骑进奶牛场后的田地，

你的手掩藏在那匹母马的

暗色鬃毛里。

于是我知道你沉默背后的含义：

蔑视我，憎恨婚姻。然而，

你还是要我触摸你；当新娘哭泣

你大喊大叫，可当我看你时我

没见有孩子在你的身体里。

那么有什么！

什么也没有，我想。只是匆忙

抢在我死前去死。

在一场梦中，我注视你骑马

越过干涸的田地

然后下马：你们俩一起走；

在黑暗里，你们没有影子。

但我感觉到它们正朝我而来

因为在夜里它们到处去，

它们是主人主宰自己。

看着我。你以为我不明白？

什么是动物

即使没走过这无聊的一生？



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?





早期黑暗



你们如何能说

大地会给我喜悦？每样生出的

东西都是我的负担；我不能成功

是由于你们大家。



而你们会愿意向我口述，

你们乐于告诉我

谁是你们当中最宝贵的，

谁长得最象我。

你们还举出纯生命

为例展示，超然—

你们为之奋斗力争



当你们不能理解自己

你们又怎么能够理解我？

你们的记忆不够

强有力，它不会

返回至足够久远—

不要忘记你们是我的孩子。

你们遭难不是因为你们相互接触

而是因为你们被出生，

因为你们要求了

有别于我的生命。



Early Darkness



How can you say

earth should give me joy? Each thing

born is my burden; I cannot succeed

with all of you.



And you would like to dictate to me,

you would like to tell me

who among you is most valuable,

who most resembles me.

And you hold up as an example

the pure life, the detachment

you struggle to acheive--



How can you understand me

when you cannot understand yourselves?

Your memory is not

powerful enough, it will not

reach back far enough--



Never forget you are my children.

You are not suffering because you touched each other

but because you were born,

because you required life

separate from me.





红罂粟



伟大的是

没有

头脑。情感：

噢，我有那些，它们

统治我。我有

一个君主在天

叫作太阳，为他

开放，示给他

我自己心中的火，火焰

如同他的存现。

若不是一颗心怎能

这般荣耀？啊我的兄弟姐妹们，

你们曾经象我吗，在很久之前，

在你们是人以前？你们

允许自己一度开放，不会再

开放？因为的确

我现在正以你们的

方式说话。我说

是因我花落叶残。





The Red Poppy



The great thing

is not having

a mind. Feelings:

oh, I have those; they

govern me. I have

a lord in heaven

called the sun, and open

for him, showing him

the fire of my own heart, fire

like his presence.

What could such glory be

if not a heart? Oh my brothers and sisters,

were you like me once, long ago,

before you were human? Did you

permit yourselves

to open once, who would never

open again? Because in truth

I am speaking now

the way you do. I speak

because I am shattered.





七个时代



在我的第一个梦里世界出现了

咸的，苦的，禁止的，甜蜜的

在我的第二个梦里我降格了

我曾是人，我不可能仅看一个东西

因我是野兽

我不得不触摸，包容它

我藏在树丛中

我在田野里劳作直到田野光秃—

时间

绝不再来—

干枯的麦束，小箱

无花果和橄榄

我甚至以我可憎恶的人的方式爱过几次

并象每个人我把那成就称作

性爱自由

即使愚蠢荒谬

麦子被聚集存放，最后的

果子被烘干；时间

被贮藏，从未使用过，

难道它也终结了？

在我的第一个梦里世界出现了

甜蜜的，禁止的

但却没有花园，只有

原始要素

我曾是人

我不得不乞求降格

咸的，苦的，要求的，先买权的

而象每一个人，我占取，我被占取

我梦到

我被出卖了

地球在一个梦中被给予了我

在一个梦中我拥有了它。



The Seven Ages



In my first dream the world appeared

the salt, the bitter, the forbidden, the sweet

In my second I descended

I was human, I couldn't just see a thing

beast that I am

I had to touch, to contain it

I hid in the groves,

I worked in the fields until the fields were bare --

time

that will never come again --

the dry wheat bound, caskets

of figs and olives

I even loved a few times in my disgusting human way

and like everyone I called that accomplishment

erotic freedom,

absurd as it seems

The wheat gathered and stored, the last

fruit dried: time

that is hoarded, that is never used,

does it also end?

In my first dream the world appeared

the sweet, the forbidden

but there was no garden, only

raw elements

I was human:

I had to beg to descend

the salt, the bitter, the demanding, the preemptive

And like everyone, I took, I was taken

I dreamed

I was betrayed:

Earth was given to me in a dream

In a dream I possessed it



瑟西的哀情



最终，我自己使

你妻子明白作为

一个神我会，在她自己的房中，在

艾萨斯，有声音

没有身体：她

暂停下她的编织，她的头

转向右，又转向左

尽管肯定没有希望

找出任何发声的

物体：我怀疑

她将返回到她的织布机

带着她目前所知。当

你再看见她时，告诉她

这就是一个神如何告别：

如果我永远在她的脑海中

我就会永远在你的生活中。





Circe's Grief



In the end, I made myself

Known to your wife as

A god would, in her own house, in

Ithaca, a voice

Without a body: she

Paused in her weaving, her head turning

First to the right, then left

Though it was hopeless of course

To trace that sound to any

Objective source: I doubt

She will return to her loom

With what she knows now. When

You see her again, tell her

This is how a god says goodbye:

If I am in her head forever

I am in your life forever.





愿望



记得那次你许了愿吗？



我许好多愿。



那次有关蝴蝶

我对你说了谎。我总想知道

你想要什么。



你认为我想要什么？



我不知道。想要我回来，

想要我们最终以某种方式在一起。



我想要我一直想要的。

我想要另一首诗。





The Wish



Remember that time you made the wish?



I make a lot of wishes.



The time I lied to you

about the butterfly. I always wondered

what you wished for.



What do you think I wished for?



I don't know. That I'd come back,

that we'd somehow be together in the end.



I wished for what I always wish for.

I wished for another poem.





爱情诗



总有些事由痛苦制成。

你的母亲编织着。

她织出有每种深浅的红色围巾。

它们曾为圣诞节准备，让你保暖

当她一次又一次结婚，带着

你。这怎么能够行得通，

可所有那些年她都藏贮着她的寡妇之心

仿佛死者会回返。

难怪你还是你那样，

害怕血，你的女人

就象一堵堵砖墙。



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.





第一记忆



很久以前，我负了伤。我活着

为自己复仇

反对我的父亲，不是

因为过去的他—

而是因为过去的我：从开始起，

在童年，我认为

痛意味着

我未被爱过，

它意味着我爱过。



First Memory



Long ago, I was wounded. I lived

to revenge myself

against my father, not

for what he was—

for what I was: from the beginning of time,

in childhood, I thought

that pain meant

I was not loved.

It meant I loved.





犹豫打电话



活着亲眼看见你将我

抛弃一旁。那仗打的

象我心中的落网之鱼。看到你跳动

在我的浆液里。看到你睡觉。并活着亲见

那一切都往下淹没成

垃圾。完了？

它活在我内。

你活在我内。恶毒的。

爱人，你曾想要我，不是吗。



Hesitate To Call



Lived to see you throwing

Me aside. That fought

Liked netted fish inside me. Saw you throbbing

In my syrups. Saw you sleep. And lived to see

That all that flushed down

The refuse. Done?

It lives in me.

You live in me. Malignant.

Love, you ever want me, don't.





帕罗莎



我的一生挚爱，你

失去了而我

重又年轻。

几年度过。

天空满溢

少女的歌曲；

在前院

苹果树

缀饰着花朵。

我试图让你回来，

这是我写此

的目的。

可你一去永不回返，

就象俄罗斯小说中，说

几句我不记得的话——

这世界是多么富有

充满了那么多东西却不属于我——

我注视花朵散落，

不再是粉红色，

而是衰老，衰老，一片淡黄泛白的

花瓣好似

在明亮的草地上飘浮

轻轻飘拂。

你是何等微不足道，

如此迅速地变作

一副影象，一种香气—

你无所不在，智慧

和悲痛之源。



Parousia



Love of my life, you

Are lost and I am

Young again.



A few years pass.

The air fills

With girlish music;

In the front yard

The apple tree is

Studded with blossoms.



I try to win you back,

That is the point

Of the writing.

But you are gone forever,

As in Russian novels, saying

A few words I don't remember-



How lush the world is,

How full of things that don't belong to me-



I watch the blossoms shatter,

No longer pink,

But old, old, a yellowish white-

The petals seem

To float on the bright grass,

Fluttering slightly.



What a nothing you were,

To be changed so quickly

Into an image, an odor-

You are everywhere, source

Of wisdom and anguish.





敞开的坟墓



我母亲制成了我的必需，

我父亲造就了我的良心。

死亡没什么不过是种赐福而已。

因此会让我

大吃苦头，

去自行躺倒在

一个坟墓的边际。

我对大地说

从今以后，

要善待我的母亲。

以你的寒冷，存贮

我们所有人妒忌的美丽。

我成了一名老妇人。

我欢迎了黑暗

我曾常对此如此恐惧。

死亡没什么不过是种赐福而已。



The Open Grave



My mother made my need,

my father my conscience.

De mortius nil nisi bonum.

Therefore it will cost me

bitterly to lie,

to prostrate myself

at the edge of a grave.

I say to the earth

be kind to my mother,

now and later.

Save, with your coldness,

the beauty we all envied.

I became an old woman.

I welcomed the dark

I used so to fear.

De mortius nil nisi bonum.





阿喀硫斯的胜利



在普特洛克勒斯的故事里

无人存活，甚至阿喀硫斯也未能

他几乎是个神

普特洛克勒斯与他相似；他们

有同样的盔甲

佩戴在身。



在这些友谊中总有

人服务于他人，有人比他人低下：

那阶层

总是显而易见，尽管传奇

不可信—

它们来源于幸存者，

那个一直被抛弃的人。



火烧的希腊船怎可

与这损失相提并论？



在他帐篷里，阿喀硫斯

以他整个同类被哀悼

而众神看到了

他是个已死的人，一个受害者

属於那被爱的部分，

那部分曾是凡人。



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 apparant, 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.







金百合



如我察觉

我现正死去并知道

我不再会讲话，不会

比大地久活，再次被

传唤出它以外，还

不是一朵花，只是一根针叶，原始的泥土

抓着我的肋骨，我呼唤你，

父亲和主人：四周

我的夥伴们正在凋落，心想

你没看见。如何

它们能知道你看见如果

你不拯救我们？

在这夏日黄昏，你是否

足够靠近去听见

你孩子的惊恐？或者

你不是我的父亲，

你使我复活？



The Gold Lily



As I perceive

I am dying now and know

I will not speak again, will not

survive the earth, be summoned

out of it again, not

a flower yet, a spine only, raw dirt

catching my ribs, I call you,

father and master: all around,

my companions are failing, thinking

you do not see. How

can they know you see

unless you save us?

In the summer twilight, are you

close enough to hear

your child's terror? Or

are you not my father,

you who raised me?







银百合



夜晚再度变凉，象早春

的夜，再次安静。讲话

会打扰你吗？我们现在

很孤寂；我们没有理由沉默不语。



你可看见，花园之上圆月升起。

我不想见下一次圆月。



春天，当月亮升起，意味着

时间没有尽头。雪莲

花开又合起，成群的

槭树种子落成苍白的一堆。

白上覆白，月亮升起在桦树之上。

而在弯钩处，那树分离开，

那最初的黄水仙的叶子，月光里

显柔软略绿的银色。



我们共赴尽头现已走的太远不至

对尽头恐惧。这些夜晚，我甚至不再肯定

我知道这尽头的含意。而你，一直

伴随一个人—



在第一声啼哭后，

不喜悦，象恐惧，无声息?



The Silver Lily



The nights have grown cool again, like the nights

Of early spring, and quiet again. Will

Speech disturb you? We're

Alone now; we have no reason for silence.



Can you see, over the garden-the full moon rises.

I won't see the next full moon.



In spring, when the moon rose, it meant

Time was endless. Snowdrops

Opened and closed, the clustered

Seeds of the maples fell in pale drifts.

White over white, the moon rose over the birch tree.

And in the crook, where the tree divides,

Leaves of the first daffodils, in moonlight

Soft greenish-silver.



We have come too far together toward the end now

To fear the end. These nights, I am no longer even certain

I know what the end means. And you, who've been

With a man--



After the first cries,

Doesn't joy, like fear, make no sound?







蝴蝶



看，一只蝴蝶。你许个愿没有？



你不向蝴蝶许愿。



你向。那你许了一个？



是的。



它不算数的。



The Butterfly



Look, a butterfly. Did you make a wish?



You don't wish on butterflies.



You do so. Did you make one?



Yes.



It doesn't count.







幸福



一男和一女躺在一张白色的床上。

这是早晨。我想

他们很快就会醒。

在床头柜上有一花瓶

百合；阳光

汇集于它们的脖颈。

我看他转向她

好象说她的名字

但沉默深藏在她嘴里—

在那窗棂，

一次，两次，

一只鸟叫着。

於是她翻翻身；她的身体

充满了他的气息。



我睁开眼睛；你正注视我。

几乎整个房间

太阳正在滑行。

看你的脸，你说着，

保持你自己靠近我

照作一面镜子

你多么平静。而那燃烧之轮

轻柔地将我们通行。



Happiness



A man and a 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.









雪



十二月下旬；我爸爸和我

前往纽约，去马戏团。

他举着我

在他肩膀上在刺骨的风中：

白纸碎片

吹上铁路线



我爸爸喜欢

象这样站着，举起我

所以他看不见我。

我记得

直视前方

进入我爸爸看见的世界；

我学会

承受它的空虚，

大雪

不落，

在我们周围旋转。



Snow



Late December: my father and I

are going to New York, to the circus.

He holds me

on his shoulders in the bitter wind:

scraps of white paper

blow over the railroad ties.



My father liked

to stand like this, to hold me

so he couldn't see me.

I remember

staring straight ahead

into the world my father saw;

I was learning

to absorb its emptiness,

the heavy snow

not falling, whirling around us.







雪莲



你知道我是什么，我如何活着？你知道

什么是绝望；那么

冬天会对你有意义。



我不期望存生，

大地抑制我。我不期望

再苏醒，去感知

在潮湿的大地里我的身躯

能再次反应，记住

在这么长时间后怎么再开放

在最初的春天

的冷光之中—



害怕，是，但在你们当中再

喊是冒着喜悦的风险



在这新世界的原始风中。



Snowdrops



Do you know what I was, how I lived? You know

what despair is; then

winter should have meaning for you.



I did not expect to survive,

earth suppressing me. I didn't expect

to waken again, to feel

in damp earth my body

able to respond again, remembering

after so long how to open again

in the cold light

of earliest spring--



afraid, yes, but among you again

crying yes risk joy



in the raw wind of the new world.

















诗人的选择

---爱德华·海尔丝克

(写于2003年9月14日)



论及露易丝·格吕克的作品，不能放弃有些最基本的东西。我们的新桂冠诗人已经出版了九本诗集，且每集都自成一个实体。她已用每一集重新解释了她的工作。35年来，我一直读她的作品，她的严肃鼓舞人心，她的每本诗集都是她进程中的一站地：

初生(1968) ，沼泽地上的房子(1975) ，遗传图(1980) ，阿喀琉丝的胜利(1985) ，阿拉若山(1990) ，野鸢尾(1992) ，草地(1997) ，新生(1999) ，七个时代(2001) 。

她还写过一本非常有力且目光敏锐的散文著作：证明与原理：关于诗歌的随笔(1994) ，作为她的审美观和精神境界的指南。



在诗歌方面，格吕克受到她在哥伦比亚大学的老师斯坦利·库尼茨的启蒙。她的诗严肃而美丽。她有一种神喻的声音，一种强烈的想象力和一个宽阔而严厉的视觉。她的短小抒情诗句在纸页上增长。她喜欢艾略特的作品，并从中学到一些非人性(非个性)的东西。她对非对称有自己的品味并写作一种整洁的、不规则的自由诗。象她称为“一个白色空间大师” 的客观主义者乔治奥本一样，她典型地采用中断、犹豫、沉默这种停顿和间隔的战略。“我被吸引到省略、秘而不宣、建议、雄辩、和故意沉默，” 她宣称：“对我来说秘而不宣发挥着巨大的威力。”



格吕克的主题是有关痛苦的，而她却以果敢的诚实来接受它们。一种巨型的隔离物围绕着她写的每个作品。失去是一种给予，比如孤寂和怀念。她经常似憎恨我们有缺陷的身体之欲望，我们悲哀的需求，我们人类的不完美。可她的作品却渴望听众并寻找与他们的连接。





(注：本文作者为美国著名诗人，1950年出生于芝加哥。获宾西法尼亚大学民俗学博士学位。出版过6本诗集，曾获过美国国家图书评论奖和雷文青年诗人奖等。现任美国约翰·西蒙·古根海姆记念基金会主席。曾主持推举比利·科林斯为前任美国桂冠诗人。)







想要另一首诗：露易丝·格吕克的诗与文(节译)

---克里斯汀·阿特金斯

(发表于1997年纽约州作家学会作家在线)



普利策奖获奖诗人露易丝·格吕克提出在语言上拒绝，丢失和隔离的主题是如技术上的精确一般令人迷惑地简单。八本诗集和一本散文著作(证明与原理) 的作者，格吕克荣获过美国国家图书评论奖(阿喀琉丝的胜利)，美国诗人学会奖(新生)，及多项哥根海姆奖等。格吕克的诗以惊人的口语和参差不齐的质量直扣读者心弦。大多诗的中心都是一个隔离于她的家庭的叙述者，或来自于被拒绝爱情的苦痛，或生活不得不给出的失望。正如海伦·温德勒所说的，格吕克的诗通过要我们“填写故事，用我们自己代替假想的人物，创造一个剧本而使说者解决讽喻…” 在大量阅读之后发现，她的诗始终显露着它们原始的苍白凄凉，提供了一个沉沦世界的抒情美神的一瞥。



[……]



在她的诗和文章中，露易丝·格吕克的艺术家的视觉是通过艺术创造变绝望为生存。在某种意义上来说，这个艺术家在为几近不可能达到的而努力奋斗着，并不渴望如此之多地占领。可在格吕克的准则方面，诗人却一贯以最后一个字抵达，於是这诗瓦解了伴随现代世界的悲伤和绝望，鼓励我们，首要的是走进希望：“我想要我一直想要的。我想要另一首诗。”





其它评论：



“没有那个美国诗人如露易丝·格吕克那样能更好地将我们如此深入地带进我们的本性之外。”

---纽约时报书评



“有少数在世诗人的新诗总让人感觉渴望去读，露易丝·格吕克当居榜首。”



---华盛顿邮报

[[我还没有昵称]]

--金舟 译


露易丝.格吕克

(Louise Gluck)

新当选的美国国会图书馆桂冠诗人露易丝.格吕克1943年生于纽约，在哥伦比亚大学师从丝坦利.库尼茨，后在威廉姆丝学院获得了法律学位，毕业后曾在哥达德学院教书。出版有诗集《七个时代》（TheSevenAges2001），《新生》（VitaNova1999,获得《波士顿图书评论》主办的“宾汉诗歌奖”），《草地》（Meadowlands1996），《野鸢尾》（TheWildIris1992,获普利策诗歌奖和美国诗歌协会“W．C．威廉姆丝诗歌奖”），《阿拉若山》（Ararat1990,获R．C．罗比特国家诗歌奖），《阿喀琉丝的胜利》（TheTriumphofAchilles1985,获美国的全国书评奖）。格吕克还出版过一些评论及散文集。1999年当选为美国诗歌学会理事。2003年8月28日，美国国会图书馆在华盛顿宣布，普利策奖得主、著名女诗人露易丝.格吕克当选为新的美国国会图书馆桂冠诗人。





撤退的风



当我做成你们,我就爱着你们.

现在我怜悯你们.



我给了你们所需的一切:

大地之床,蓝天毛毯—



随着我进一步远离你们

我就更加看清楚你们.

你们的心灵如今应很阔大

它们不该是

多嘴的小东西—



我给了你们每一样礼物,

蔚蓝的春之晨,

时间之多你们都不知该怎样利用—

你们索要更多的礼物,那个为

另外的生物准备的礼物.



不论你们希望什么,

你们将不会在花园中在成长的植物中,

找到你们自己.

你们的生活不象它们那样是循环的:



你们的生活是鸟儿飞翔

在平静中开始和结束—

开始和结束,以类似这

弧形从白桦树

至苹果树.





Retreating Wind



When I made you, I loved you.

Now I pity you.



I gave you all you needed:

bed of earth, blanket of blue air--



As I get further away from you

I see you more clearly.

Your souls should have been immense by now,

not what they are,

small talking things--



I gave you every gift,

blue of the spring morning,

time you didn't know how to use--

you wanted more, the one gift

reserved for another creation.



Whatever you hoped,

you will not find yourselves in the garden,

among the growing plants.

Your lives are not circular like theirs:



your lives are the bird's flight

which begins and ends in stillness--

which begins and ends, in form echoing

this arc from the white birch

to the apple tree.





恐惧埋葬



在那空场地,在早晨,

那具尸体等待着认领.

幽灵坐其旁,在一块小岩石上—

没什么再来给它身形.



想着那尸体的孤独.

夜晚在修剪过的场地上踱步,

它的影子紧紧连接着四周.

如此一个漫长的旅途.



已见村庄那微颤的灯光

不为它停留依旧扫掠在路上.

它们看来还很远,

那些木门,面包和牛奶

象重物放在桌子上.





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.





晨歌



你想知道我如何打发我的时间?

我走在前面的草坪,假装

除草.你应该知道

我从不跪下除草,从不自

花床拉起几簇三叶草;其实

我正在寻找勇气,寻找我的生活

会改变的证据,尽管

需要花很久时间,检查

每一簇以寻找象征性的

叶子,很快夏日将终,叶子

已经转变,总是病树

在先,这将死的化为

亮黄色,而几只暗色的鸟表演

乐声唱晚.你想看我的手吗?

现仍是空空的就象在第一个音符上.

或是那要点没有

标记总是连续不断.





Matins



You want to know how I spend my time?

I walk the front lawn, pretending

to be weeding. You ought to know

I'm never weeding, on my knees, pulling

clumps of clover from the flower beds: in fact

I'm looking for courage, for some evidence

my life will change, though

it takes forever, checking

each clump for the symbolic

leaf, and soon the summer is ending, already

the leaves turning, always the sick trees

going first, the dying turning

brilliant yellow, while a few dark birds perform

their curfew of music. You want to see my hands?

As empty now as at the first note.

Or was the point always

to continue without a sign?





榆木





整天我都在试图区分

需要和欲望。现在，于黑暗中，

对我们，木材的营造和设计者，

我只有感到苦涩悲伤，

因为我一直不变地

注视着这些榆木

和看到扭曲苦痛

的过程，静止的树

是痛苦的，并理解到

它不会做成形除了扭曲之状。





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.







画像





一个孩子画着一幅人体轮廓。

她画她所能画的，但全是空白，

她不能在那填入她知道的东西。

在无支撑的线条内，她知道

生命正在消失；她切换

一个又一个背景。象个孩子

她转向她的母亲。



而你画那颗心

用以抵付她创造的空虚。





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.







奥德修斯的决定





那伟大的人返回到海岛上。

现在他不会死于天堂

也不再听到

橄榄林中天堂的琵琶，

在清澈池水边苍柏之下。时代



现在开始，他再次听见

叙事大海的脉搏，

当黎明拉起后最为强健。

带我们来这里的

会带我们离去；我们的船

在遭难的港口水中摇摆。



现在符咒终止了。

使他回到他的生活，

大海只能向前汹涌澎湃。



(注：奥德修斯是荷马史诗奥德赛中的英雄。)





Odysseus' Decision



The great man turns his back on the island.

Now he will not die in paradise

nor hear again

the lutes of paradise among the olive trees,

by the clear pools under the cypresses. Time



begins now, in which he hears again

that pulse which is the narrative

sea, ar dawn when its pull is stongest.

What has brought us here

will lead us away; our ship

sways in the tined harbor water.



Now the spell is ended.

Giove him back his life,

sea that can only move forward.









一个怪念头





我要告诉你一些事：每天

人都在死。而那仅是开始，

每天，在殡仪馆，出生新寡妇，

新孤儿。他们两手合拢而坐，

试着去决定这新的生命。



然后他们在墓地，其中有人

是第一次。他们惊恐哭泣，

有时不哭。有人走过来

告诉他们下一步做什么，可能

说几句话，有时

将土投入敞开的墓穴里。



而那以后，每个人都回到房里，

里面突然满是来访者。

那寡妇坐在长沙发上，非常庄严，

人们排队走近她，

有时握她的手，有时拥抱她。

她找些话对每个人说

感谢他们，感谢他们的到来。



在她内心，她却想让他们离去。

她想返回墓地，

返回医院的病房里。她知道

这是不可能的。但她唯一的希望，

是让时光倒流。而只是一点点，

不需远溯至结婚和初吻之际。



A Fantasy



I'll tell you something: every day

people are dying. And that's just the beginning.

Every day, in funeral homes, new widows are born,

new orphans. They sit with their hands folded,

trying to decide about this new life.



Then they're in the cemetery, some of them

for the first time. They're frightened of crying,

sometimes of not crying. Someone leans over,

tells them what to do next, which might mean

saying a few words, sometimes

throwing dirt in the open grave.



And after that, everyone goes back to the house,

which is suddenly full of visitors.

The widow sits on the couch, very stately,

so people line up to approach her,

sometimes take her hand, sometimes embrace her.

She finds something to say to everbody,

thanks them, thanks them for coming.



In her heart, she wants them to go away.

She wants to be back in the cemetery,

back in the sickroom, the hospital. She knows

it isn't possible. But it's her only hope,

the wish to move backward. And just a little,

not so far as the marriage, the first kiss.







四月





没人的绝望象我的一般—



在这花园中没有你想那种事，

制造向外标志的地方；显然

那男人铲除整个一片森林，

那女人拖拖沓沓，拒绝换衣服

或洗她的头发。



难道你以为我在乎

如果你跟另一个人交谈？

可我的意思是让你知道

我期望两个更好的生物

被赋予了头脑；不然

你们实际上会互相关照

至少你们会理解

悲伤被分摊

在你俩之间，在你所有的仁慈里面，

对于我去认识你，就如深蓝

标记着野海葱，白色标记着

木紫罗兰。





April



No one's despair is like my despair--



You have no place in this garden

thinking such things, producing

the tiresome outward signs; the man

pointedly weeding an entire forest,

the woman limping, refusing to change clothes

or wash her hair.



Do you suppose I care

if you speak to one another?

But I mean you to know

I expected better of two creatures

who were given minds: if not

that you would actually care for each other

at least that you would understand

grief is distributed

between you, among all your kind, for me

to know you, as deep blue

marks the wild scilla, white

the wood violet.



野鸢尾



在我的痛苦之端

有门一扇。

听我说：你称之为死亡

我记得。

头顶，噪声，松枝变幻。

然后皆无。微弱的太阳

闪烁在干枯的地面。

生存可怕

因知觉

被葬于地下黑暗。

后来结束：令你恐惧，存在

为灵魂而不

能言，突然终结，坚硬的大地

略弯。可我感觉是鸟儿

疾飞在低矮的灌木林间。

是你不记得了

迁移自另一个世界

我告诉你我能够再说一遍：不论什么

从忘却回归都返回

去寻找一个声音：

来自我生命的中心

一个巨大的源泉，在蔚蓝的

海水上幽影深蓝。





The Wild Iris



At the end of my suffering

there was a door.

Hear me out: that which you call death

I remember.

Overhead, noises, branches of the pine shifting.

Then nothing. The weak sun

flickered over the dry surface.

It is terrible to survive

as consciousness

buried in the dark earth.

Then it was over: that which you fear, being

a soul and unable

to speak, ending abruptly, the stiff earth

bending a little. And what I took to be

birds darting in low shrubs.

You who do not remember

passage from the other world

I tell you I could speak again: whatever

returns from oblivion returns

to find a voice:

from the center of my life came

a great fountain, deep blue

shadows on azure sea water.





瑟西的威力



我从未把任何人变成猪。

有人是猪；我使他们

看来象猪。

我讨厌你的世界

让外表乔装内在。你的人不坏；

懒散的生活

养成了他们的习性。作为猪

他们已变得温和

由于我和我的

女士们的呵护。

然后我逆转符咒，向你展示我的

仁慈和威力。我看到

我们在此能够快乐

作为男人和女人

他们的需求很简单。同时

我预见了你的离去

你的人因我的帮助敢於迎战

咆哮凶猛的大海。你想

几滴眼泪就让我倾覆？我的朋友，

每位女魔本质上都是

实用主义者；没有人看本质而不

面对局限。如果我只想占有你

我能扣留你为囚徒。



(注：瑟西为荷马史诗[奥德赛]中的女魔。)





Circe’s Power

I never turned anyone into a pig.

Some people are pigs; I make them

Look like pigs.

I'm sick of your world

That lets the outside disguise the inside. Your men weren't bad men;

Undisciplined life

Did that to them. As pigs,

Under the care of

Me and my ladies, they

Sweetened right up.

Then I reversed the spell, showing you my goodness

As well as my power. I saw

We could be happy here,

As men and women are

When their needs are simple. In the same breath,

I foresaw your departure,

Your men with my help braving

The crying and pounding sea. You think

A few tears upset me? My friend,

Every sorceress is

A pragmatist at heart; nobody sees essence who can't

Face limitation. If I wanted only to hold you

I could hold you prisoner.





瑟西的痛苦



我非常遗憾

爱你的这些年不管

你在与不在，遗憾

那法律，那神召

阻止我持有你，大海

一块玻璃板，太阳漂白的

希腊船美神；如何

我能有魔力假如

我没有意愿

将你改变：虽然

你爱我的身体，

虽然那时你发现

我们所拥有的激情在

一切礼物之上，在那独特瞬间

超越荣誉和希望，超越

忠诚，以那结合的名义

我拒绝你

因你妻子而有的这般情感

会让你同她

度过余年，我拒绝你

再次上床

如果我不能有你。



Circe's Torment

I regret bitterly

The years of loving you in both

Your presence and absence, regret

The law, the vocation

That forbid me to keep you, the sea

A sheet of glass, the sun-bleached

Beauty of the Greek ships: how

Could I have power if

I had no wish

To transform you: as

You loved my body,

As you found there

Passion we held above

All other gifts, in that single moment

Over honor and hope, over

Loyalty, in the name of that bond

I refuse you

Such feeling for your wife

As will let you

Rest with her, I refuse you

Sleep again

If I cannot have you.





坦白



说我没有恐惧—

那不是真的。

我害怕患病，蒙羞。

象任何人一样，我有我的梦想。

但我已经学会将它们藏起，

使自己不致于满足：所有快乐

都引发命运之神生气。

它们是姐妹，野人—

最终它们没有情感

只有妒忌。



Confession

To say I'm without fear--

It wouldn't be true.

I'm afraid of sickness, humiliation.

Like anyone, I have my dreams.

But I've learned to hide them,

To protect myself

From fulfillment: all happiness

Attracts the Fates' anger.

They are sisters, savages--

In the end they have

No emotion but envy.





马



什么马能给你

我不能给你？

我注视你当你孤寂，

当你骑进奶牛场后的田地，

你的手掩藏在那匹母马的

暗色鬃毛里。

于是我知道你沉默背后的含义：

蔑视我，憎恨婚姻。然而，

你还是要我触摸你；当新娘哭泣

你大喊大叫，可当我看你时我

没见有孩子在你的身体里。

那么有什么！

什么也没有，我想。只是匆忙

抢在我死前去死。

在一场梦中，我注视你骑马

越过干涸的田地

然后下马：你们俩一起走；

在黑暗里，你们没有影子。

但我感觉到它们正朝我而来

因为在夜里它们到处去，

它们是主人主宰自己。

看着我。你以为我不明白？

什么是动物

即使没走过这无聊的一生？



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?





早期黑暗



你们如何能说

大地会给我喜悦？每样生出的

东西都是我的负担；我不能成功

是由于你们大家。



而你们会愿意向我口述，

你们乐于告诉我

谁是你们当中最宝贵的，

谁长得最象我。

你们还举出纯生命

为例展示，超然—

你们为之奋斗力争



当你们不能理解自己

你们又怎么能够理解我？

你们的记忆不够

强有力，它不会

返回至足够久远—

不要忘记你们是我的孩子。

你们遭难不是因为你们相互接触

而是因为你们被出生，

因为你们要求了

有别于我的生命。



Early Darkness



How can you say

earth should give me joy? Each thing

born is my burden; I cannot succeed

with all of you.



And you would like to dictate to me,

you would like to tell me

who among you is most valuable,

who most resembles me.

And you hold up as an example

the pure life, the detachment

you struggle to acheive--



How can you understand me

when you cannot understand yourselves?

Your memory is not

powerful enough, it will not

reach back far enough--



Never forget you are my children.

You are not suffering because you touched each other

but because you were born,

because you required life

separate from me.





红罂粟



伟大的是

没有

头脑。情感：

噢，我有那些，它们

统治我。我有

一个君主在天

叫作太阳，为他

开放，示给他

我自己心中的火，火焰

如同他的存现。

若不是一颗心怎能

这般荣耀？啊我的兄弟姐妹们，

你们曾经象我吗，在很久之前，

在你们是人以前？你们

允许自己一度开放，不会再

开放？因为的确

我现在正以你们的

方式说话。我说

是因我花落叶残。





The Red Poppy



The great thing

is not having

a mind. Feelings:

oh, I have those; they

govern me. I have

a lord in heaven

called the sun, and open

for him, showing him

the fire of my own heart, fire

like his presence.

What could such glory be

if not a heart? Oh my brothers and sisters,

were you like me once, long ago,

before you were human? Did you

permit yourselves

to open once, who would never

open again? Because in truth

I am speaking now

the way you do. I speak

because I am shattered.





七个时代



在我的第一个梦里世界出现了

咸的，苦的，禁止的，甜蜜的

在我的第二个梦里我降格了

我曾是人，我不可能仅看一个东西

因我是野兽

我不得不触摸，包容它

我藏在树丛中

我在田野里劳作直到田野光秃—

时间

绝不再来—

干枯的麦束，小箱

无花果和橄榄

我甚至以我可憎恶的人的方式爱过几次

并象每个人我把那成就称作

性爱自由

即使愚蠢荒谬

麦子被聚集存放，最后的

果子被烘干；时间

被贮藏，从未使用过，

难道它也终结了？

在我的第一个梦里世界出现了

甜蜜的，禁止的

但却没有花园，只有

原始要素

我曾是人

我不得不乞求降格

咸的，苦的，要求的，先买权的

而象每一个人，我占取，我被占取

我梦到

我被出卖了

地球在一个梦中被给予了我

在一个梦中我拥有了它。



The Seven Ages



In my first dream the world appeared

the salt, the bitter, the forbidden, the sweet

In my second I descended

I was human, I couldn't just see a thing

beast that I am

I had to touch, to contain it

I hid in the groves,

I worked in the fields until the fields were bare --

time

that will never come again --

the dry wheat bound, caskets

of figs and olives

I even loved a few times in my disgusting human way

and like everyone I called that accomplishment

erotic freedom,

absurd as it seems

The wheat gathered and stored, the last

fruit dried: time

that is hoarded, that is never used,

does it also end?

In my first dream the world appeared

the sweet, the forbidden

but there was no garden, only

raw elements

I was human:

I had to beg to descend

the salt, the bitter, the demanding, the preemptive

And like everyone, I took, I was taken

I dreamed

I was betrayed:

Earth was given to me in a dream

In a dream I possessed it



瑟西的哀情



最终，我自己使

你妻子明白作为

一个神我会，在她自己的房中，在

艾萨斯，有声音

没有身体：她

暂停下她的编织，她的头

转向右，又转向左

尽管肯定没有希望

找出任何发声的

物体：我怀疑

她将返回到她的织布机

带着她目前所知。当

你再看见她时，告诉她

这就是一个神如何告别：

如果我永远在她的脑海中

我就会永远在你的生活中。





Circe's Grief



In the end, I made myself

Known to your wife as

A god would, in her own house, in

Ithaca, a voice

Without a body: she

Paused in her weaving, her head turning

First to the right, then left

Though it was hopeless of course

To trace that sound to any

Objective source: I doubt

She will return to her loom

With what she knows now. When

You see her again, tell her

This is how a god says goodbye:

If I am in her head forever

I am in your life forever.





愿望



记得那次你许了愿吗？



我许好多愿。



那次有关蝴蝶

我对你说了谎。我总想知道

你想要什么。



你认为我想要什么？



我不知道。想要我回来，

想要我们最终以某种方式在一起。



我想要我一直想要的。

我想要另一首诗。





The Wish



Remember that time you made the wish?



I make a lot of wishes.



The time I lied to you

about the butterfly. I always wondered

what you wished for.



What do you think I wished for?



I don't know. That I'd come back,

that we'd somehow be together in the end.



I wished for what I always wish for.

I wished for another poem.





爱情诗



总有些事由痛苦制成。

你的母亲编织着。

她织出有每种深浅的红色围巾。

它们曾为圣诞节准备，让你保暖

当她一次又一次结婚，带着

你。这怎么能够行得通，

可所有那些年她都藏贮着她的寡妇之心

仿佛死者会回返。

难怪你还是你那样，

害怕血，你的女人

就象一堵堵砖墙。



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.





第一记忆



很久以前，我负了伤。我活着

为自己复仇

反对我的父亲，不是

因为过去的他—

而是因为过去的我：从开始起，

在童年，我认为

痛意味着

我未被爱过，

它意味着我爱过。



First Memory



Long ago, I was wounded. I lived

to revenge myself

against my father, not

for what he was—

for what I was: from the beginning of time,

in childhood, I thought

that pain meant

I was not loved.

It meant I loved.





犹豫打电话



活着亲眼看见你将我

抛弃一旁。那仗打的

象我心中的落网之鱼。看到你跳动

在我的浆液里。看到你睡觉。并活着亲见

那一切都往下淹没成

垃圾。完了？

它活在我内。

你活在我内。恶毒的。

爱人，你曾想要我，不是吗。



Hesitate To Call



Lived to see you throwing

Me aside. That fought

Liked netted fish inside me. Saw you throbbing

In my syrups. Saw you sleep. And lived to see

That all that flushed down

The refuse. Done?

It lives in me.

You live in me. Malignant.

Love, you ever want me, don't.





帕罗莎



我的一生挚爱，你

失去了而我

重又年轻。

几年度过。

天空满溢

少女的歌曲；

在前院

苹果树

缀饰着花朵。

我试图让你回来，

这是我写此

的目的。

可你一去永不回返，

就象俄罗斯小说中，说

几句我不记得的话——

这世界是多么富有

充满了那么多东西却不属于我——

我注视花朵散落，

不再是粉红色，

而是衰老，衰老，一片淡黄泛白的

花瓣好似

在明亮的草地上飘浮

轻轻飘拂。

你是何等微不足道，

如此迅速地变作

一副影象，一种香气—

你无所不在，智慧

和悲痛之源。



Parousia



Love of my life, you

Are lost and I am

Young again.



A few years pass.

The air fills

With girlish music;

In the front yard

The apple tree is

Studded with blossoms.



I try to win you back,

That is the point

Of the writing.

But you are gone forever,

As in Russian novels, saying

A few words I don't remember-



How lush the world is,

How full of things that don't belong to me-



I watch the blossoms shatter,

No longer pink,

But old, old, a yellowish white-

The petals seem

To float on the bright grass,

Fluttering slightly.



What a nothing you were,

To be changed so quickly

Into an image, an odor-

You are everywhere, source

Of wisdom and anguish.





敞开的坟墓



我母亲制成了我的必需，

我父亲造就了我的良心。

死亡没什么不过是种赐福而已。

因此会让我

大吃苦头，

去自行躺倒在

一个坟墓的边际。

我对大地说

从今以后，

要善待我的母亲。

以你的寒冷，存贮

我们所有人妒忌的美丽。

我成了一名老妇人。

我欢迎了黑暗

我曾常对此如此恐惧。

死亡没什么不过是种赐福而已。



The Open Grave



My mother made my need,

my father my conscience.

De mortius nil nisi bonum.

Therefore it will cost me

bitterly to lie,

to prostrate myself

at the edge of a grave.

I say to the earth

be kind to my mother,

now and later.

Save, with your coldness,

the beauty we all envied.

I became an old woman.

I welcomed the dark

I used so to fear.

De mortius nil nisi bonum.





阿喀硫斯的胜利



在普特洛克勒斯的故事里

无人存活，甚至阿喀硫斯也未能

他几乎是个神

普特洛克勒斯与他相似；他们

有同样的盔甲

佩戴在身。



在这些友谊中总有

人服务于他人，有人比他人低下：

那阶层

总是显而易见，尽管传奇

不可信—

它们来源于幸存者，

那个一直被抛弃的人。



火烧的希腊船怎可

与这损失相提并论？



在他帐篷里，阿喀硫斯

以他整个同类被哀悼

而众神看到了

他是个已死的人，一个受害者

属於那被爱的部分，

那部分曾是凡人。



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 apparant, 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.







金百合



如我察觉

我现正死去并知道

我不再会讲话，不会

比大地久活，再次被

传唤出它以外，还

不是一朵花，只是一根针叶，原始的泥土

抓着我的肋骨，我呼唤你，

父亲和主人：四周

我的夥伴们正在凋落，心想

你没看见。如何

它们能知道你看见如果

你不拯救我们？

在这夏日黄昏，你是否

足够靠近去听见

你孩子的惊恐？或者

你不是我的父亲，

你使我复活？



The Gold Lily



As I perceive

I am dying now and know

I will not speak again, will not

survive the earth, be summoned

out of it again, not

a flower yet, a spine only, raw dirt

catching my ribs, I call you,

father and master: all around,

my companions are failing, thinking

you do not see. How

can they know you see

unless you save us?

In the summer twilight, are you

close enough to hear

your child's terror? Or

are you not my father,

you who raised me?







银百合



夜晚再度变凉，象早春

的夜，再次安静。讲话

会打扰你吗？我们现在

很孤寂；我们没有理由沉默不语。



你可看见，花园之上圆月升起。

我不想见下一次圆月。



春天，当月亮升起，意味着

时间没有尽头。雪莲

花开又合起，成群的

槭树种子落成苍白的一堆。

白上覆白，月亮升起在桦树之上。

而在弯钩处，那树分离开，

那最初的黄水仙的叶子，月光里

显柔软略绿的银色。



我们共赴尽头现已走的太远不至

对尽头恐惧。这些夜晚，我甚至不再肯定

我知道这尽头的含意。而你，一直

伴随一个人—



在第一声啼哭后，

不喜悦，象恐惧，无声息?



The Silver Lily



The nights have grown cool again, like the nights

Of early spring, and quiet again. Will

Speech disturb you? We're

Alone now; we have no reason for silence.



Can you see, over the garden-the full moon rises.

I won't see the next full moon.



In spring, when the moon rose, it meant

Time was endless. Snowdrops

Opened and closed, the clustered

Seeds of the maples fell in pale drifts.

White over white, the moon rose over the birch tree.

And in the crook, where the tree divides,

Leaves of the first daffodils, in moonlight

Soft greenish-silver.



We have come too far together toward the end now

To fear the end. These nights, I am no longer even certain

I know what the end means. And you, who've been

With a man--



After the first cries,

Doesn't joy, like fear, make no sound?







蝴蝶



看，一只蝴蝶。你许个愿没有？



你不向蝴蝶许愿。



你向。那你许了一个？



是的。



它不算数的。



The Butterfly



Look, a butterfly. Did you make a wish?



You don't wish on butterflies.



You do so. Did you make one?



Yes.



It doesn't count.







幸福



一男和一女躺在一张白色的床上。

这是早晨。我想

他们很快就会醒。

在床头柜上有一花瓶

百合；阳光

汇集于它们的脖颈。

我看他转向她

好象说她的名字

但沉默深藏在她嘴里—

在那窗棂，

一次，两次，

一只鸟叫着。

於是她翻翻身；她的身体

充满了他的气息。



我睁开眼睛；你正注视我。

几乎整个房间

太阳正在滑行。

看你的脸，你说着，

保持你自己靠近我

照作一面镜子

你多么平静。而那燃烧之轮

轻柔地将我们通行。



Happiness



A man and a 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.









雪



十二月下旬；我爸爸和我

前往纽约，去马戏团。

他举着我

在他肩膀上在刺骨的风中：

白纸碎片

吹上铁路线



我爸爸喜欢

象这样站着，举起我

所以他看不见我。

我记得

直视前方

进入我爸爸看见的世界；

我学会

承受它的空虚，

大雪

不落，

在我们周围旋转。



Snow



Late December: my father and I

are going to New York, to the circus.

He holds me

on his shoulders in the bitter wind:

scraps of white paper

blow over the railroad ties.



My father liked

to stand like this, to hold me

so he couldn't see me.

I remember

staring straight ahead

into the world my father saw;

I was learning

to absorb its emptiness,

the heavy snow

not falling, whirling around us.







雪莲



你知道我是什么，我如何活着？你知道

什么是绝望；那么

冬天会对你有意义。



我不期望存生，

大地抑制我。我不期望

再苏醒，去感知

在潮湿的大地里我的身躯

能再次反应，记住

在这么长时间后怎么再开放

在最初的春天

的冷光之中—



害怕，是，但在你们当中再

喊是冒着喜悦的风险



在这新世界的原始风中。



Snowdrops



Do you know what I was, how I lived? You know

what despair is; then

winter should have meaning for you.



I did not expect to survive,

earth suppressing me. I didn't expect

to waken again, to feel

in damp earth my body

able to respond again, remembering

after so long how to open again

in the cold light

of earliest spring--



afraid, yes, but among you again

crying yes risk joy



in the raw wind of the new world.

















诗人的选择

---爱德华·海尔丝克

(写于2003年9月14日)



论及露易丝·格吕克的作品，不能放弃有些最基本的东西。我们的新桂冠诗人已经出版了九本诗集，且每集都自成一个实体。她已用每一集重新解释了她的工作。35年来，我一直读她的作品，她的严肃鼓舞人心，她的每本诗集都是她进程中的一站地：

初生(1968) ，沼泽地上的房子(1975) ，遗传图(1980) ，阿喀琉丝的胜利(1985) ，阿拉若山(1990) ，野鸢尾(1992) ，草地(1997) ，新生(1999) ，七个时代(2001) 。

她还写过一本非常有力且目光敏锐的散文著作：证明与原理：关于诗歌的随笔(1994) ，作为她的审美观和精神境界的指南。



在诗歌方面，格吕克受到她在哥伦比亚大学的老师斯坦利·库尼茨的启蒙。她的诗严肃而美丽。她有一种神喻的声音，一种强烈的想象力和一个宽阔而严厉的视觉。她的短小抒情诗句在纸页上增长。她喜欢艾略特的作品，并从中学到一些非人性(非个性)的东西。她对非对称有自己的品味并写作一种整洁的、不规则的自由诗。象她称为“一个白色空间大师” 的客观主义者乔治奥本一样，她典型地采用中断、犹豫、沉默这种停顿和间隔的战略。“我被吸引到省略、秘而不宣、建议、雄辩、和故意沉默，” 她宣称：“对我来说秘而不宣发挥着巨大的威力。”



格吕克的主题是有关痛苦的，而她却以果敢的诚实来接受它们。一种巨型的隔离物围绕着她写的每个作品。失去是一种给予，比如孤寂和怀念。她经常似憎恨我们有缺陷的身体之欲望，我们悲哀的需求，我们人类的不完美。可她的作品却渴望听众并寻找与他们的连接。





(注：本文作者为美国著名诗人，1950年出生于芝加哥。获宾西法尼亚大学民俗学博士学位。出版过6本诗集，曾获过美国国家图书评论奖和雷文青年诗人奖等。现任美国约翰·西蒙·古根海姆记念基金会主席。曾主持推举比利·科林斯为前任美国桂冠诗人。)







想要另一首诗：露易丝·格吕克的诗与文(节译)

---克里斯汀·阿特金斯

(发表于1997年纽约州作家学会作家在线)



普利策奖获奖诗人露易丝·格吕克提出在语言上拒绝，丢失和隔离的主题是如技术上的精确一般令人迷惑地简单。八本诗集和一本散文著作(证明与原理) 的作者，格吕克荣获过美国国家图书评论奖(阿喀琉丝的胜利)，美国诗人学会奖(新生)，及多项哥根海姆奖等。格吕克的诗以惊人的口语和参差不齐的质量直扣读者心弦。大多诗的中心都是一个隔离于她的家庭的叙述者，或来自于被拒绝爱情的苦痛，或生活不得不给出的失望。正如海伦·温德勒所说的，格吕克的诗通过要我们“填写故事，用我们自己代替假想的人物，创造一个剧本而使说者解决讽喻…” 在大量阅读之后发现，她的诗始终显露着它们原始的苍白凄凉，提供了一个沉沦世界的抒情美神的一瞥。



[……]



在她的诗和文章中，露易丝·格吕克的艺术家的视觉是通过艺术创造变绝望为生存。在某种意义上来说，这个艺术家在为几近不可能达到的而努力奋斗着，并不渴望如此之多地占领。可在格吕克的准则方面，诗人却一贯以最后一个字抵达，於是这诗瓦解了伴随现代世界的悲伤和绝望，鼓励我们，首要的是走进希望：“我想要我一直想要的。我想要另一首诗。”





其它评论：



“没有那个美国诗人如露易丝·格吕克那样能更好地将我们如此深入地带进我们的本性之外。”

---纽约时报书评



“有少数在世诗人的新诗总让人感觉渴望去读，露易丝·格吕克当居榜首。”



---华盛顿邮报

[星子]

Thanks for sharing..

I like
The Fear Of Burial (cold as the dead body)

Others I need more time to read...
_________________

[[ANNA]]

Thanks for sharing..

I like
The Fear Of Burial (cold as the dead body)

Others I need more time to read...
_________________