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发表于: 星期三 十月 07, 2009 9:09 am    发表主题:

玛丽安•摩尔(Marianne Moore)的生平和诗歌


倪志娟 编译 发布时间：2009-6-25 10:10:31 来源：中国艺术批评 阅读：4266
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　　玛丽安•摩尔（Marianne Moore），1887年11月15号出生于美国密苏里州的柯克伍德城，美国现代派女诗人，1952年获普利策诗歌奖，1972年2月5日去世。主要诗文集有：《诗集》（Poems，1921年）；《观察》（Observations, 1924年）；《诗歌选集》（Selected Poems, 1935年）；《何谓岁月》（What Are Years,1941年）；《然而》（Nevertheless, 1944年）；《诗和评论集》（Poetry and Criticism,1965年）；《诗歌全集》（The Complete Poems,1967年）。翻译著作：拉封丹《寓言诗》（Fables of La Fontaine, 1954年）。
　　
　　玛丽安•摩尔，其人，其诗
　　
　　倪志娟编译

　　（根据艾琳•沃斯韦尔（Elaine Oswald）和罗伯特.L.基尔（Robert L.Gale）的文章编译。）

　　玛丽安•摩尔（1887-1972），出生于美国密苏里州的柯克伍德城。她的父亲约翰•弥尔顿•摩尔是一位建筑工程师和发明家。然而她从没见过她的父亲——在她出生之前，因为自己的一项无烟锅炉设计失败，弥尔顿•摩尔受到严重刺激，神经错乱，住进了马萨诸塞州的精神病院。摩尔和她的哥哥从小跟随母亲玛丽•沃勒住在外公家，他是柯克伍德城长老会中一个博学的牧师，一个和蔼可亲的老人，摩尔和她的哥哥受到了很深的宗教影响。

　　摩尔的母亲总是过分保护她的两个孩子，她跟随他们移居到宾夕法尼亚洲的匹兹堡，其后又移居到卡莱尔。在卡莱尔，摩尔读完高中，1905年，她进入布林莫尔学院。在大学期间，她在学院举办的文学杂志上发表了九首诗，其中包括《水母》一诗；她修读了历史，法律，和政治学等课程，1909年获文学学士学位。摩尔后来偶然提到，她在生物学和生物组织学方面的实验研究使她曾打算去学习医学，她也曾有过做一名画家的理想。最终，这些经历使她开始热爱形态复杂的动物，并终身喜爱精确细致的描述手法。在卡莱尔商业学院学习了秘书课程之后，她在卡莱尔的美国印第安工业学院教授簿记，速记，打字，商业英语和法律等课程，直到1915年。她的教书成就可观，美国最著名的运动员詹姆斯•索普即是她的学生之一。

　　1911年夏天，摩尔和她的母亲前往英格兰、苏格兰和法兰西等地旅行，在旅行途中，她们参观了格拉斯哥、牛津、伦敦和巴黎的艺术博物馆。1915年，摩尔开始专职发表诗歌。其中，在《自我主义者》（Egoist）杂志发表了7首诗（包括《致“进步”的灵魂》一诗，这首诗显示了她早期诗歌中押韵、单音节句等形式特征）。《自我主义者》杂志是杜丽特尔(H.D.) 在伦敦主编的一本双月刊杂志，专门介绍现代意象派诗人，杜丽特尔欣赏他们的诗歌作品中的敏锐和凝练。在《诗刊:诗的杂志》(Poetry:A Magazine of Verse)杂志上摩尔发表了4首诗（包括对大卫的赞美诗《美妙的竖琴》，以及关于罗伯特•布朗宁和乔治•肖伯纳的两首诗），这本杂志主要介绍迅速成名并被大众喜爱的革新派诗人。在《其他人》（Others）杂志上摩尔发表了5首诗（包括关于威廉姆•布莱克和乔治•摩尔的两首诗），阿尔弗雷德•克瑞姆伯格（Alfred Kreymborg）任《其他人》杂志的合作主编。在这些年里，摩尔阅读了一些先锋派诗歌和相关评论，开始发表对诗歌的独立见解和评论文章。

　　1916年，摩尔和她的母亲从卡莱尔移居到新泽西的查塔姆，去帮助她的哥哥照管房子，这时她的哥哥已经是耶鲁大学的毕业生和长老会牧师。1918年，他加入美国海军，成为一名随军牧师，摩尔和她的母亲便移居到了曼哈顿。这段时间，她和克瑞姆伯格、摄影师阿尔弗雷德•斯蒂格利茨（Alfred Stieglitz）、诗人华莱士•史蒂文斯和威廉姆•卡洛斯•威廉姆关系密切，也受到H.D.、艾略特和庞德等诗人的欣赏。在摩尔毫不知情的情况下，H.D.在情人比来赫尔（Bryher）的赞助下，挑选了摩尔的24首诗，出版了标题为《诗集》（1921年）的一本薄薄的诗集。其中的一些诗歌早已发表在《自我主义者》杂志上。

　　从1921年到1925年，摩尔在纽约国立图书馆的哈德森帕克分馆兼职。伦敦出版的《诗集》扩展为53首诗，在美国重新出版，命名为《观察》（1924）。1924年，她赢得了《日晷》（Dial）杂志授予的两千美元诗歌成就奖，这本著名的杂志是富有的斯科菲耶德•泰耶尔（Scofield Thayer）部分赞助并主编的一本月刊，泰耶尔曾于1918年见过摩尔，并定期发表摩尔的诗歌。摩尔的三首诗：《墓地》、《纽约》和《章鱼》为她赢得了这笔奖金。《墓地》（以后改名为《坟墓》）是对“梅尔维尔式的海洋图景”的描述，大海看上去诱人，事实上充满了贪婪和毁灭，它也是摩尔被译成外文的第一首诗。《纽约》一诗批评了纽约这个城市普遍的邪恶（她将其比之为毛皮交易市场），但是她也赞扬它是一个冒险家的乐园。《章鱼》是摩尔最好的长诗之一，这首诗是对华盛顿洲的雷尼尔山所作的一幅高度精确、色彩缤纷的文字图画，摩尔在注解中标明，她和她哥哥曾于1920年与一帮朋友登上过此山。

　　1925年，摩尔成为《日晷》杂志的编辑，一直做到这本杂志于1929年停刊。之后，从未结婚的摩尔通过写作挣得的稿费以及《日晷》杂志赞助者的偶尔支助得以养活自己。1929年，她和母亲迁移到布鲁克林，1947年，她的母亲去世，她在布鲁克林呆到1966年才迁回曼哈顿。在《日晷》杂志任编辑的几年中，摩尔停止了发表作品。1933年，她被授予海伦•海尔•列文森诗歌奖，这个奖使她得到了美国国内的关注，也激励她不断创作新作品。她的下一本书《诗歌选集》（1935），奠定了她作为现代主义重要诗人之一的地位。艾略特为这本选集写了赞美性的序言，他写道：“我们这个时代拥有少量不朽的诗歌作品，正是这部分诗歌作品，其独特的感受性、敏锐的认识和深刻的情感维持着英语语言的生命。而在最近十四年中，我深信摩尔小姐的诗已经成为其中的一分子。”尽管艾略特作了如此高度赞扬，这本书的销量仍少得可怜，1940年，每本书不得不以30美分廉价出售。

　　一些评论家认为，从这时起，摩尔的诗歌创作很少有进步；她自己则认为她在艺术上的发展是跳跃似的。此外，即使她的创作有进步，这种进步也很难追踪，因为她在自己的诗歌再版时，总是不断修改旧作，创作的新诗主题也与旧诗的主题很相似，只是后来创作的诗带有新的或至少重新调整过的洞察力——例如《诗》一诗的第一个版本，无疑是摩尔最著名的作品，首次发表在1919年的《其他人》杂志上，后来这首诗被大幅度修改，并容纳了她广为人知的名言：诗应该在想象的花园中提供真实的蟾蜍。在1967年出版的《诗歌全集》中，它却被缩减为只有４行的一首诗歌。这种反复的修改增删反映了摩尔不同时期的诗歌主张。当她将《诗》一诗缩减为4行时，她崇尚的是简约风格。她说，“压缩性是一种美德。”并在诗中曾引用过德谟克利特的话：“简约，对于一只蜗牛来说，是最优雅的风格”。而风格的价值在于履行一种潜藏的原则，蜗牛正是因自身特点具有了其生活方式和认识原则。这也类似于诗人都有自己独特的、符合于想象力规律的特质。

　　此外，《没有天鹅这般精致》和《跳鼠》两首诗也经常出现在一些诗歌文选中，这两首诗第一次发表在1932年。《没有天鹅这般精致》暗示了一只美丽的瓷天鹅，作为艺术的象征，沉静而优雅，比它骄傲的主人、法兰西的路易十五活得更为长久。《跳鼠》赞美了跳鼠令人羡慕的自然本性，这是非洲大陆上一种能够跳跃的老鼠，如果妨碍它，它将降祸于你。

　　摩尔继续在一些著名的杂志上发表诗歌，例如《凯尼恩评论》、《国家》、《新共和国》等杂志，然后将这些诗结集成书出版——例如，《穿山甲和其他的诗》（1936年），《何谓岁月》（1941年），以及《然而》（1941年），这些书的标题非常出色。《穿山甲》一诗将穿山甲——非亚大陆上一种有鳞的食蚁哺乳动物——和列奥纳多•达芬奇进行比较，诗中指出这两者是相似的艺术家和工程师，此外，她还将穿山甲优雅的、讲究实用的形式与云杉的锥体形态、朝鲜蓟以及威斯敏斯特教堂的雕花铁栏进行对比。摩尔的注释使它的含义变得清晰，她的素材可能来自直接的观察，以及对它们的深刻解读。《何谓岁月》是一首卓越的抒情诗，她在诗中将一只鸟欢乐的歌声与死亡和永恒悖论式地结合在一切。在《然而》中，摩尔描写了樱桃的红色来源于一点稀薄的液体，这是一种奇迹般的结果，同时，她也含蓄赞扬了她自己的生活和创造能力。1945年，她获古根海姆奖，一年以后得到了由美国艺术文学院和国家文艺协会共同授予的1千美元奖金。这一笔奖金使她在经济上稍微宽裕，她便接受了朋友W.H.奥登的建议，开始专心翻译让•德•拉封丹的《寓言诗》。许久以来，她一直欣赏拉封丹的现实主义道德训诫和艺术独创性。这一翻译工作几乎花费了摩尔十年的精力，但是当这本翻译著作第一次提交出版社时却遭到了拒绝，使她的自信受到沉重打击。在进行这项翻译工作期间，她偶尔和住在华盛顿的圣伊丽莎白精神医院的庞德写信交流，她也给他寄一点零花钱。

　　1950年代，摩尔又获得了几项奖励，得到了公众更多的认可，这种认可以后一直没有减弱。她的《诗歌选集》（1951年）于1952年赢得了普利策奖和国家图书奖，1953年赢得了波林根奖；到1952年这本书卖了将近5千册，当她正式接受国家图书奖时，她发表了一个经常被引用的评语：她的作品之所以被称为诗歌，是因为无法对它们作其他归类，她是“一声快乐的咳嗽”。她翻译的《寓言诗》，经过四次辛苦的修改，最终于1954年出版。虽然有一些评论家高度赞扬了她的翻译，但是也有一些人挑剔其中的错误，人们普遍认为这些翻译没有代表她最好的诗歌成就。然而，法国政府对她的翻译相当满意，为此授予她艺术与文学的荣誉勋章。她的一些评论文章，包括对卡明斯以及庞德等人的评论，被结集出版，名为《偏爱》（1955年）。摩尔又出版了诗集《像一道防波堤》（1956年）和《告诉我，告诉我》（1966年）以及散文集《特质和技巧》（1959年），评论集《诗歌与批评》（1965年）等。

　　摩尔在这些年里一边安心写作，一边也以名人的身份出场。她的三角帽和黑斗篷成为她在公共场合的个人标志。她喜欢这种形状的帽子，她说，因为它隐藏了她的头部缺陷，同时，它们也像跳动的蟾蜍。她的肖像特写出现在《生活》、《纽约时报》和《纽约人》等杂志，她还作为纽约市长非官方的女主持人帮助他招待客人。福特汽车公司也曾邀请她为一系列新汽车起名字。1968年，虽然她的健康状况不佳，但是她仍然为洋基队在本年度的棒球季赛投球开局，这是她生命中的一个高潮。她曾说过，应该向那些发明了复杂的棒球缝制法的人致以更多敬意。这一年夏天摩尔仅仅发表了6首诗，她忍受了一系列病痛的打击，有两年时间几乎成为一个半残废的人，于1972年去世于她纽约的家中。

　　摩尔诗歌最显著的特点之一是并置。有时，她细致地观察并描述一种客体，同时将这一客体与其他客体并置，有时，她陈列两种相互对立的事物，使它们彼此之间构成一种张力，从而更好地突出主题。在《然而》一诗中，我们可以清楚地看到这一特点。

　　《然而》从表面上看是一首非常简单的诗。它的形式整齐，意象具体而平常，它的主题是歌颂坚持不懈的努力。但是，当我们深入阅读这首诗时，它就变成了一个充满对立、冲突的体系。在这首诗中，形式的规则与反规则、具象与隐喻之间存在明显张力。

　　这首诗从头到尾，都并列着各种不同的事物。首先，一种精心挑选的果实，草莓，被放置在斗争冲突的语境中，这里仿佛暗示了诗人不得不通过斗争去发现他们最合适的表达形式，读者不得不通过斗争才能采摘摩尔辛辛苦苦放置在叶子中的果实。第4行和第5行诗中，草莓的繁殖方式与刺猬和海星的防御性盔甲并列。当草莓无法作为一样美味可口的食物被吃掉时，它便成功地散布了其大量的种子。

　　接着铺陈出苹果种子。“比苹果种子/——这果实中的/果实——更好的食物”（6-7行）这两句并非在赞扬一种好食品。这里，苹果作为“这果实中的/果实”是在提醒读者，这种果子，是知识树上的果子。在圣经传说中，知识的果实也许能带来力量，但也带来了危险。知识的果实正如榛子中的榛仁，被紧密包裹着，又被无限渴望。

　　然后是橡胶草或者说俄罗斯蒲公英进入诗中，摩尔在诗中使用的是它的外国名字，使其具备了一种神秘性。这种植物仍然是一种微不足道的植物，看上去就像花园和院子里入侵的有害植物，但是它们在二战中被大量培植，用来制作橡胶制品。如果没有这种植物，战争将进行得更艰难。这里，小和大、朴实和奇特之间又构成了张力。

　　接着，是仙人果与带刺的铁丝网、胡萝卜与曼德拉草、公羊角与葡萄藤卷须并置。胡萝卜代表信仰，而曼德拉草，在希伯来人的文化传统中，具有强烈的催情效果，象征着生育繁衍，食用它有助于怀孕。据说它的根从地上拔出时会发出致命的哭叫声。公羊角也是一种力量的象征，既具有攻击性也具有防御性。葡萄藤的卷须通过缠绕来固定其嫩枝。所有这些反复指向结尾的宣言：

　　弱者征服了它的
　　　　　　　　　　　　　　威胁，强者征
服了它自己。那里存在的

　　是坚韧！汁液
　　 流过纤细的脉络
　　使樱桃变红！

　　结尾几行仍然存在着一种并置的张力。樱桃作为一种小水果，被设想为有力的东西。樱桃的形象显然不止于樱桃，樱桃可以象征着嘴唇、性、贞洁与爱等多种事物。在这首诗中，它看上去像一颗小小的心，被一根纤细的血管喂养。

　　这首诗有一种严格的形式，每三行一节，一节有十八个音节，平均每一行有六个音节。这种形式加强了这首诗的音乐性和节奏性。但是摩尔一方面采用了这种形式规则，同时又破坏了这种规则，以增强效果。在这首诗中，摩尔并不是根据句子的自然结束来分行，而是很突兀地结束一行，要么在一个音节中间，要么在连字符号中间，要么在一个观点的中间转行，结果读者在读一节诗或一行诗时经常读不到停顿，只好加快阅读速度，从意象跳跃到意象，从音节跳跃到音节，在这种连贯中回荡着摩尔的诗歌主题。形式上的规则与反规则构成的张力使摩尔终究不是一个拘泥于古典形式的诗人，而具备了鲜明的现代特征。

　　摩尔诗歌的第二个显著特点是使用拼贴画似的大量引语。她从未提出教条主义的道德观，而是经常引用他人的陈述性格言，通过引语以及对他人观点的完整再现，使作品和自我拉开距离，保持自我的神秘性。

　　在诸如《婚姻》、《章鱼》那样的长诗中，摩尔引用了许多来自不同文本、不同风格的引语，这些引语，都是关于同一个主题，但是全部朝向不同的方向：被引用的声音主宰着诗歌的声音，但这种声音又被其他的引语抵消，引语们彼此之间展开了交谈；大量的引语建立了一种戏剧性语境而不是一种抒情格调，引语的原始主题，在新的语境中被重新建构，看上去是总结的引语，事实上是摇摆不定的，反复加强戏剧化的不稳定性和冲突。这种拼贴似的引语反映了摩尔并不确立一个稳定立场，而是不断扩张着诗歌的外延和深度，这也使得读者很难发现一种核心的声音，去读懂这些引语的意义。因而阅读摩尔的诗歌常常是一种耐心与勇气的双重考验。

　　毫无疑问，摩尔是一个充满了魅力的谜，不管是对她那个时代的还是她去世之后的评论界，都是如此。评论家们从未达成一致——她是现代的或者是古典的，是意象派的或者是客观主义的？从她的作品中我们可以看到，她的主题随着她生命的成熟而不断扩展。在早期的作品中，她强调了对秩序和英雄主义的向往，之后她强调了对上帝的仁慈与爱的信仰需求。她在作品中暗示：一个人要生存下去，必须反应敏捷、遵纪守法并小心谨慎。她喜欢带着幻想的意味描绘动物和运动员的特征，把这两者都看成艺术对象和艺术典范。

　　摩尔极其精彩地度过了她平静而激烈、大多时候沉浸于书本的快乐生活，她热烈似火的谈话语速给她的朋友们留下了难以忘怀的印象。她对于自己选定的诗歌形式具有极强的驾驭能力。她高贵的表达方式中融合了敏锐的细节、语言学实验以及新颖的观察视角与晦涩阐释。她激发读者和她一起，去观察熟悉的现实场景，学会重新认识它；她要求读者接受大小事物之间、有生命和无生命的事物之间、观念和客观事物之间的关系；她请求读者重视并实践词语的权力。她对那些抱怨她的诗歌太晦涩的人说，对于用心写出的诗歌，也应该用心去读。她的生活和写作共同表达了勇敢、忠诚、耐心、谦逊、自主和坚定等美德。
　　
　　原文:
　　
　　On Marianne Moore's Life and Career
　　
　　Elaine Oswald and Robert L. Gale
　　
　　She was born Marianne Craig Moore in Kirkwood, Missouri, the daughter of John Milton Moore, a construction engineer and inventor, and Mary Warner. Moore had an older brother, John Warner Moore. She never met her father; before her birth his invention of a smokeless furnace failed, and he had a nervous and mental breakdown and was hospitalized in Massachusetts. Moore's mother became a housekeeper for John Riddle Warner, her father, an, affectionate, well-read Presbyterian pastor in Kirkwood, until his death in 1894. Moore's mother, always overly protective, moved with her children briefly to Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, and then to Carlisle, Pennsylvania, where Moore attended the Metzger Institute (now part of Dickinson College) through high school. In 1905 she entered Bryn Mawr College, in Bryn Mawr, Pennsylvania; published nine poems, including "A Jelly-Fish," in its literary magazines Tipyn O'Bob and the Lantern; and majored in history, law, and politics, graduating with a B.A. in 1909. Much--perhaps too much--has been made of Moore's later casual assertion that laboratory studies in biology and histology caused her to consider studying medicine; at any rate, one result of such work was her love of intricately shaped animals and also a lifelong respect for precision in description. She also expressed a desire to become a painter. After taking secretarial courses at Carlisle Commercial College (1910-1911), she taught bookkeeping, stenography, and typing and commercial English and law at the U.S. Industrial Indian School at Carlisle with admirable success until 1915. One of her students was Jim Thorpe, the famous Native American athlete.
　　
　　In the summer of 1911 Moore and her mother traveled in England, Scotland, and France, and while abroad they visited art museums in Glasgow, Oxford, London, and Paris. In 1915 Moore began to publish poems professionally. Seven poems (including "To the Soul of 'Progress,’" displaying her early habit of rhyming single-syllable lines, sometimes spaced apart) appeared in the Egoist, a London bimonthly edited by Hilda Doolittle (H.D.) and featuring modern imagist poets, whose delicacy and compression she admired. Four (including "That Harp You Play So Well" about David the psalmist, and two about Robert Browning and George Bernard Shaw) appeared in Poetry: A Magazine of Verse (Chicago), which featured innovative writers quickly admired and influential. And five (including two on William Blake and George Moore) were published in Others, a magazine Alfred Kreymborg coedited. During these years Moore was reading much avant-garde poetry and criticism and was beginning to publish subjective reviews and critical essays.

　　In 1916 Moore moved with her mother from Carlisle to Chatham, New Jersey, to help keep house for her brother, by then a Yale University graduate and a Presbyterian minister. When in 1918 he joined the U.S. Navy as a chaplain, Moore and her mother moved to Manhattan. By this time she was friendly with Kreymborg, photographer Alfred Stieglitz, and poets Wallace Stevens and William Carlos Williams and was also esteemed by H.D., T. S. Eliot, and Ezra Pound. H.D., with the help of her patron Bryher (Winifred Ellerman), who was then H.D.'s lover, selected twenty-four of Moore's poems, many of which had appeared in the Egoist, and published them in a small book titled Poems (1921) without her knowledge. From 1921 until 1925 Moore worked part-time in the Hudson Park branch of the New York City library. Her London book was expanded to include fifty-three poems and was published in the United States as Observations (1924). In 1924 she won an award of $2,000 for achievement in poetry given by the Dial, the distinguished monthly pro-modernist magazine edited and partly financed by wealthy Scofield Thayer, whom Moore had met in 1918 and who was regularly publishing her verse. Especially significant in winning the award were three poems. "A Graveyard" (later called "A Grave") is a Melvillean picture of the ocean, seemingly inviting but in reality rapacious and devouring. It was Moore's first poem to be translated into a foreign language and appeared in Anthologie de la nouvelle po閟ie (1928). Her "New York" criticizes the city for general viciousness (synecdochized as a fur-trade center) but also praises it as a center for experience-seekers. And "An Octopus," one of Moore's most splendid long poems, is a scientifically accurate, highly colored word picture, with annotated quotations, of Mount Rainier, in Washington State, which she had climbed in 1920 with a group including her brother.
　　
　　In 1925 Moore took over from Thayer as editor of the Dial, remaining there until 1929, at which time the journal was discontinued. After this, never marrying, Moore supported herself by freelance writing and with occasional help from former Dial backers. In 1929 she and her mother moved to Brooklyn, where Moore remained after her mother's death in 1947 and until her own final move back to Manhattan in 1966. Moore's years at the Dial were part of a hiatus in her publishing life. But in 1933 she was awarded the Helen Haire Levinson Prize from Poetry, which gained her national attention and spurred her to renewed creativity. Her next volume, Selected Poems (1935), which included several of the fifteen poems she had recently published between 1932 and 1935 in periodicals and anthologies (including "Camillia Sabina" in Active Anthology, ed. Ezra Pound [1932]), confirmed her position as a leading modernist poet. T S. Eliot provided a laudatory introduction for the collection, writing in part: "My conviction ... for the last fourteen years ... [is] that Miss Moore's poems form part of the small body of durable poetry written in our time, of that small body of writings, among what passes for poetry, in which an original sensibility and alert intelligence and deep feeling have been engaged in maintaining the life of the English language." Despite Eliot's well-founded praise, the book sold poorly, and in 1940 nearly 500 copies were remaindered at thirty cents apiece.
　　
　　Some critics feel that from about this time in her career Moore made little progress; she herself described her artistic development as jerky. In addition, such evolution as there was seems hard to track because of her habit of revising old poems for republication, composing new poems--for example, "To Victor Hugo of My Crow Pluto" (1961) and "To a Giraffe" (1963)--on subjects similar to those of old efforts, and creating later poems with fresh or at least newly modulated insights--for example, "Rescue with Yul Brynner" (New Yorker, 20 May 1961), praising the actor's relief work for refugee children, and "Baseball and Writing" (New Yorker, 6 Dec. 1961), celebrating her beloved Yankees but mainly comparing two painful arts. It is also true that the first version of "Poetry," undoubtedly her best-known work, first appeared in Others in 1919. Considerably revised, it contains her arresting dictum that poetry should offer true-to-life toads in gardens of the imagination. Furthermore, "No Swan So Fine" and "The Jerboa," both often anthologized, were first published in 1932. "No Swan So Fine" suggests that a beautiful china swan, symbol of art, has serenely outlasted Louis XV of France, its cocky whilom owner. "The Jerboa" celebrates the enviable naturalness of the jerboa, an African jumping rat, interfering with which will curse you.
　　
　　Moore continued to place poem after poem in reputable periodicals such as the Kenyon Review, the Nation, the New Republic, and the Partisan Review and then collect them, and others, in book form--for example, in The Pangolin and Other Verse (1936), What Are Years? (1941), and Nevertheless (1944). The title pieces of these books are excellent. "The Pangolin" stunningly equates the pangolin, a scaly African and Asian ant-eating mammal, with Leonardo da Vinci, both being alike artists and engineers, and goes on to compare the pangolin's graceful, functional form to that of the spruce cone, the artichoke, and Westminster Abbey ironwork. Moore's annotations make it clear that while her sources may include direct observation they are mainly esoteric reading. "What Are Years?"--a stellar lyric--ends by paradoxically equating a bird's joyful song with both mortality and eternity. In "Nevertheless" Moore implicitly praises her own life and creativity when she images the red of the cherry as the miraculous result of a bit of thread-thin sap. In 1945 she was awarded a Guggenheim fellowship for creative writing and a year later a $1,000 joint grant from the American Academy of Arts and Letters and the National Institute of Arts and Letters. With leisure thus provided, she followed her friend W H. Auden's suggestion and began meticulously translating the Fables choisies, mises en vers of Jean de La Fontaine, whose realistic moral messages and ingenious craftsmanship she had long admired. The project took too much of Moore's creative energy for almost a decade and cost her considerable self-confidence when the first publishing firm to which she submitted the work rejected it. While laboring over this work, she occasionally conferred with Pound, then confined to Saint Elizabeths Hospital in Washington, D.C. During this time she also wrote Pound and sent him a little spending money.
　　
　　The 1950s brought Moore several more awards and growing public recognition, which thereafter never abated. Her Collected Poems (1951) won the Pulitzer Prize and the National Book Award in 1952 and the Bollingen Prize in 1953; it sold almost 5,000 copies by 1952. When she formally accepted the National Book Award, she made the often-quoted remark that her work is called poetry for lack of any other category to put it in and added that she was "a happy hack." Her Fables of La Fontaine, after going through four painstaking drafts, finally appeared in 1954. Although many reviewers praised her translations, some found fault in them, and the prevailing opinion is that they do not represent her best poetic accomplishment. The French government, however, was sufficiently impressed by her Fables to award her the Croix de Chevalier des Arts et Lettres. Her critical essays on writers and artists such as Louise Bogan, Jean Cocteau, E. E. Cummings, Pound, and Anna Pavlova, among many others, are collected in Predilections (1955). Moore saw Pavlova in November 1921 and wrote H. D. and Bryher (10 Nov. 1921) a long description as minutely detailed as a five-minute color film. In "Anna Pavlova" (Dance Index, Mar. 1944) Moore reveals her awareness of the interrelationship of various art forms when she defines Pavlova's performance as "flawless" because "she affectionately informed her technique with poetry." Moore gathered more poems in Like a Bulwark (1956), O to Be a Dragon (1959), and Tell Me, Tell Me (1966) and more prose pieces in Idiosyncrasy and Technique (1959) and Poetry and Criticism (1965).
　　
　　While Moore was steadily writing during these years, she also emerged as somewhat of a celebrity. Her tricorn hat and black cape became her personal insignia at public events. She liked the shape of such hats, she said, because they concealed the defects of her head, which, she added, resembled that of a hop toad. She was featured in Life magazine, the New York Times, and the New Yorker and acted as an unofficial hostess for the mayor of New York. She was even asked by Ford Motor Company officials to suggest names for a new series of cars. She gamely offered at least nineteen, the worst being "Magigravue," "Pastelogram," and "Turcotingo," and the best perhaps including "Chaparral," "Mongoose Civique," and "Silver Sword." Declining all of her suggestions, Ford chose the name "Edsel." A climax of a sort came for Moore when, though in poor health, she tossed out the baseball to open the 1968 season at Yankee Stadium. She once said she would give much to have invented the admirably intricate stitch pattern of baseballs. Publishing only six poems after the summer of 1968, Moore suffered a series of strokes, was a semi-invalid for nearly two years, and died in her New York City home.
　　
　　Moore has proved to be an engaging puzzle, not only to critics of her time but to later ones as well. It is seen that her themes broadened to a degree as she matured. In early works she emphasized a need for discipline and heroic behavior. Later she stressed the need for spiritual grace and love. To survive, she hinted, one must be alert, disciplined, and careful. Gradually she moved from scrutinizing one object to comparing several objects. She delighted in whimsically describing characteristics of animals and athletes, seeing both organisms as subjects and exemplars of art. Never dogmatic in propounding her morality, she often distanced herself and remained furtive by attributing declarative dicta to others and by commenting on quotations and even photographs expressing the point of view of others. For these reasons, critics have not yet reached a consensus--is she modern or anachronistic, imagistic or objectivistic? Regardless, Moore tremendously relished her quietly intense, largely bookish, often convivial life, made memorable to a host of friends by her rapid-fire talk. She was superb at her chosen craft. Her expression is notable for deftness and sharpness of detail, linguistic experimentation, and integration of fresh observation and obscure reading. She teases the reader into looking at reality with keener vision, as though, like her, seemingly for the very first time; challenges the reader to accept the relationship of big and little, animate and inanimate, ideal and object; and invites the reader to note, and practice, the power of words. To those who complained that her poetry often seemed obscure, she once replied that something that was work to write ought to be work to read. Her life displayed and her writings expressed the virtues of courage, loyalty, patience, modesty, spontaneity, and steadfastness.
　　
　　Most of Moore's manuscripts, letters, notebooks, and diaries are in the Rosenbach Foundation in Philadelphia, Pa. Other repositories are the Humanities Research Center of the University of Texas, the Beinecke Rare Book and Manuscript Library at Yale University, and the Newberry Library in Chicago, Ill. Collections of her writings are A Marianne Moore Reader (1961), The Complete Poems of Marianne Moore (1967; rev. ed., 1981), and The Complete Prose of Marianne Moore, ed. Patricia C. Willis (1986); although neither of the last two books is "complete," both are generously representative. Craig Stevens Abbott, Marianne Moore: A Descriptive Bibliography (1977), and his Marianne Moore: A Reference Guide (1987), list, respectively, primary and secondary material. Margaret Holley, The Poetry of Marianne Moore: A Study in Voice and Value (1987), includes a chronology of Moore's published poems, pp. 195-202. The Selected Letters of Marianne Moore, ed. Bonnie Costello et al. (1997), reveals much personal information. Charles Molesworth, Marianne Moore: A Literary Life (1990), is an illuminating biography. The following discuss Moore's professional friendships: Celeste Goodridge, Hints and Disguises: Marianne Moore and Her Contemporaries (1989); Joan Feit Diehl, Elizabeth Bishop and Marianne Moore: The Psychodynamics of Creativity (1993); and Robin G. Schulze, The Web of Friendship: Marianne Moore and Wallace Stevens (1995). The following analyze Moore's subjects, themes, and techniques: Donald Hall, Marianne Moore: The Cage and the Animal (1970); Pamela White Hadas, Marianne Moore: Poet of Affection (1977); Taffy Martin, Marianne Moore: Subversive Modernist (1986); John M. Slatin, The Savage's Romance: The Poetry of Marianne Moore (1986); Darlene Williams Erickson, Illusion Is More Precise Than Precision: The Poetry of Marianne Moore (1992); and Linda Leavell, Marianne Moore and the Visual Arts: Prismatic Color (1995). Bernard F. Engel, Marianne Moore, rev. ed. (1989), valuable throughout, is especially admirable in treating Moore's Fables of La Fontaine; Elizabeth Phillips, Marianne Moore (1982), also fine throughout, explicates "An Octopus" especially well. Numerous critical essays on Moore are collected in Charles Tomlinson, ed., Marianne Moore: A Collection of Critical Essays (1969); Harold Bloom, ed., Marianne Moore (1987); and Joseph Parisi, ed., Marianne Moore: The Art of a Modernist (1990). An obituary, beginning on the front page and with two photographs, is in the New York Times, 6 Feb. 1972.
　　


　　玛丽安•摩尔的诗（十七首）
　　
　　他制作这个屏风
　　
　　[美]玛丽安•摩尔/倪志娟译
　　
　　不是用银也不是用珊瑚，
　　而是用沧桑的月桂树。
　　
　　他引来了一片海
　　平展如织毯；
　　
　　这里，种一棵无花果树；那里，放一张面孔；
　　一条龙盘绕在空中——
　　
　　此处，建一座凉亭；
　　彼处，开一朵醒目的西番莲。
　　
　　He Made This Screen
　　
　　not of silver nor of coral,
　　but of weather beaten laurel.
　　
　　Here, he introduced a sea
　　uniform like tapestry;
　　
　　here, a fig-tree; there, a face;
　　there, a dragon circling space --
　　
　　designating here, a bower;
　　there, a pointed passion-flower.
　　
　　
　　没有天鹅这般精致
　　
　　[美]玛丽安•摩尔/倪志娟译
　　
　　 “没有水如同凡尔赛宫
　　干枯的喷泉这般平静。”没有天鹅，
　　如同这只彩瓷天鹅这般精致
　　它侧目而视，带着灰暗的表情
　　船桨似的腿
　　浅棕色的眼睛和代表主人身份的
　　锯齿状金质项圈
　　
　　在路易十五
　　装饰着鸡冠状按钮，
　　大丽花，海胆，以及蜡菊
　　的枝状大烛台上，
　　它端坐于
　　雕刻精美的
　　花瓣中——优雅又高大。而国王已经死去。
　　
　　
　　No Swan So Fine
　　
　　"No water so still as the
　　 dead fountains of Versailles." No swan,
　　with swart blind look askance
　　and gondoliering legs, so fine
　　 as the chintz china one with fawn-
　　brown eyes and toothed gold
　　collar on to show whose bird it was.
　　
　　Lodged in the Louis Fifteenth
　　 candelabrum-tree of cockscomb-
　　tinted buttons, dahlias,
　　sea urchins, and everlastings,
　　 it perches on the branching foam
　　of polished sculptured
　　flowers - at ease and tall. The king is dead.
　　
　　
　　过去是此刻
　　
　　[美]玛丽安•摩尔/倪志娟译
　　
　　如果外在的行动衰竭
　　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。
　　他说——我想我重复了他的原话——
　　 “希伯来人的诗
　　是带有深刻感受的散文。”迷狂
　　提供了情境，而适宜决定了形式。
　　
　　
　　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
　　
　　[美]玛丽安•摩尔/倪志娟译
　　
　　我的父亲常说，
　　“上等人从不做长久地拜访
　　不走进朗费罗的坟墓
　　也不欣赏哈佛的玻璃花。
　　要像猫那样独立——
　　带着它的猎物到隐蔽地
　　老鼠柔软的尾巴挂在它的嘴上，像一条鞋带
　　它们有时享受孤独，
　　被那些令他们愉悦的语言
　　剥夺了自己的语言
　　最深的情感总是在沉默中呈现；
　　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。
　　
　　
　　Silence
　　
　　by Marianne Moore
　　
　　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
　　
　　[美]玛丽安•摩尔/倪志娟译
　　
　　如果不使用
　　解释对你毫无意义。
　　你没有一丁点幽默。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“审美中的
　　客观判断，一种形而上学的不可能性，”你
　　
　　应该很好地完成了
　　它。至于蝴蝶，我几乎不能想象
　　有人留意你，但是，去质疑
　　补充物是否协调是徒劳的，即使它存在。
　　
　　
　　To a Steam Roller
　　
　　by Marianne Moore
　　
　　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.
　　
　　
　　
　　迷迭香
　　
　　[美]玛丽安•摩尔/倪志娟译
　　
　　美，和美之子，和迷迭香——
　　维纳斯和爱，她的儿子，简单地说——
　　据称生于海上，
　　在每个圣诞节，彼此相伴，
　　编织一个欢宴的花篮。
　　并不总是迷迭香——
　　
　　自从逃到埃及，它冷漠地开花。
　　带着标枪似的绿叶，叶背泛着银色，
　　它的花——起初是白色——
　　变成了蓝色。记忆的香草，
　　模仿了圣母玛利亚的蓝色长袍，
　　这并不是传奇
　　
　　对这种既是象征又是香料的花来说。
　　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。
　　
　　
　　Rosemary
　　
　　by Marianne Moore
　　
　　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.
　　
　　
　　一个埃及鱼形瓶
　　　　
　　[美]玛丽安•摩尔/倪志娟译
　　
　　最初，我们有渴
　　与耐心，
　　艺术，如一阵波浪立起
　　供我们欣赏，其精炼的线条；
　　　　
　　并不脆弱，而是
　　强烈的——光谱，这
　　激动人心，灵巧生动的鱼，
　　它光滑的鳞片折射着太阳剑一般的锋芒。
　　
　　
　　An Egyptian Pulled Glass Bottle in the Shape of a Fish
　　
　　Here we have thirst
　　And patience, from the first,
　　 And art, as in a wave held up for us to see
　　 In its essential perpendicularity;
　　
　　Not brittle but
　　Intense－the spectrum, that
　　 Spectacular and nimble animal the fish,
　　 Whose scales turn aside the sun’s sword with their polish.
　　
　　
　　苦行者
　　
　　[美]玛丽安•摩尔/倪志娟译
　　
　　“我们看见过驯鹿
　　吃草，寻找自己的食物；”
　　一位曾到过拉布兰的朋友说：“它们能适应
　　
　　瑞诺*即草原的
　　艰苦，50分钟内
　　能奔跑11 英里；足蹄，在柔软的雪地上，
　　
　　可以扩张，
　　其作用如雪鞋一样。它们是苦行者，
　　无论拉布兰和西伯利亚的
　　
　　空花绣艺术家们
　　用齿状的皮革饰边
　　将它们的挽缰和鞍带装饰得多么漂亮。
　　
　　一只驯鹿看着我们
　　它坚硬的脸一半棕色，一半白色，——阿尔卑斯山的
　　花中皇后。圣诞老人的驯鹿，终于
　　
　　为我们所见，它有棕灰色的
　　毛发，脖子像火绒草
　　——更精确地说，像
　　
　　狮子的脚**。”而
　　枝状烛台似的角装点着
　　一个不毛之地，它们被引进到
　　
　　阿拉斯加，
　　作为一种礼物，避免了
　　爱斯基摩人的灭绝。这场战役
　　
　　由一个沉默的男人打赢，
　　希尔顿•杰克逊，为这个种族带去福音
　　他在驯鹿的脸上宣判了对他们的缓刑。
　　
　　*Reino，拉布兰语，草原的意思
　　** lion’s foot, －leontopodium，拉丁文中的火绒草名。
　　
　　
　　Rigorists
　　
　　“We saw reindeer
　　browsing,”a friend who’d been in Lapland, said:
　　“finding their own food; they are adapted
　　
　　to scant reino Reino
　　or pasture, yet they can run eleven
　　 miles in fifty minutes; the feet spread when
　　
　　the snow is soft,
　　and act as snowshoes. They are rigorists,
　　however handsomely cutwork artists
　　
　　of Lapland and
　　Siberia elaborate the trace
　　or saddle-girth with saw-tooth leather lace.
　　
　　One looked at us
　　With its firm face part brown, part white,－a queen
　　of alpine flowers. Santa Claus’ reindeer, seen
　　
　　at last, had grey-
　　brown fur, with a neck like edelweiss or
　　Lion’s foot,－leontopodium more
　　
　　exactly.”and
　　this candelabrum-headed omament
　　for a place where ornaments are scarce, set
　　
　　to Alaska,
　　was a gift preventing the extinction
　　of the Esquimo. The battle was won
　　
　　 by a quiet man,
　　Sheldon Jackson, evangel to that race
　　Whose reprieve he read in the reindeer’s face.
　　
　　
　　致一只墙壁里的鼠
　　
　　[美]玛丽安•摩尔/倪志娟译
　　
　　你使我想起一些男人
　　曾相遇，又被遗忘
　　或只是重现于
　　一段风趣的插曲
　　他们在其中一闪而过
　　如此敏捷，难以被审视。
　　
　　
　　To an Intra-mural Rat
　　
　　You make me think of many men
　　Once met, to be forgot again
　　Or merely resurrected
　　In a parenthesis of wit
　　That found them hastening through it
　　Too brisk to be inspected.
　　
　　
　　不明智的园艺
　　
　　[美]玛丽安•摩尔/倪志娟译
　　
　　如果黄色意味着不忠，
　　我就是一个叛逆者。
　　我不能因为书上说黄色是不详之兆，
　　白色代表好
　　便敌视一朵黄玫瑰。
　　
　　无论如何，你特有的喜好，
　　个人感受，
　　的确可以藐视
　　生气的耳朵，而不必容忍
　　厚颜无耻。
　　
　　
　　Injudicious Gardening
　　
　　If yellow betokens infidelity,
　　I am an infidel.
　　I could not bear a yellow rose ill will
　　because books said that yellow boded ill,
　　white promised well.
　　
　　However, your particular possession,
　　the sense of privacy,
　　indeed might deprecate
　　offended ears, and need not tolerate
　　effrontery.
　　
　　
　　何谓岁月？
　　
　　[美]玛丽安•摩尔/倪志娟译
　　
　　什么是我们的清白？
　　什么是我们的罪？所有人
　　都袒露着，没有一个能幸免。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，甚至死亡，
　　激励着他人
　　而失败，将
　　
　　激励灵魂自身强大起来？他
　　深刻地认识，并因此快乐，
　　接受必死性
　　被束缚着
　　仍努力提升自己，就像
　　峡谷中的海，想要逃脱
　　却无法得逞，
　　当它放弃挣扎
　　才发现了自己的延续。
　　
　　因此，他强烈地感受，
　　积极行动。如同鸟，
　　歌唱着，越飞越高，坚定地
　　向上。虽然他是俘虏，
　　他有力的歌声
　　表明，满足微不足道
　　快乐才是一件纯粹的事。
　　这是必死性，
　　这是永恒。
　　
　　
　　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.

纸鹦鹉螺
　　
　　[美]玛丽安•摩尔/倪志娟译
　　
　　为了唯利是图的
　　权威人士？
　　为了沉迷于
　　茶会上的声誉与往返之舒适的
　　作家？并不是为这些人
　　纸鹦鹉螺
　　建造了脆弱的玻璃壳。
　　
　　作为她易朽的
　　希望之纪念品，灰白色的
　　外壳，边缘平整的
　　内面
　　大海一般光滑，警惕的
　　创造者
　　日日夜夜守卫着它；她几乎
　　
　　不吃，直到蛋孵化出来。
　　在某种意义上，她是一条
　　章鱼，在八只胳膊的
　　八重覆盖下，
　　玻璃羊角似的摇篮盛装的物品
　　隐藏着，并没有被压碎；
　　如同赫拉克勒斯*，被
　　
　　一只忠实于九头蛇的螃蟹咬住
　　阻挠了他的胜利，
　　密切
　　照看的蛋
　　孵出来，它们自由时也解脱了壳，——
　　它白色的蜂窝上
　　留下了裂纹，和白而细密的
　　
　　爱奥尼亚似皱褶**
　　如同帕特侬神庙中
　　马的鬃毛线条，
　　那些胳膊
　　彼此缠绕，仿佛它们知道
　　爱是唯一的坚强堡垒
　　足以信赖。
　　
　　* 赫拉克勒斯是希腊神话中伟大的英雄，宙斯的私生子。他勇武有力，完成了十二件伟绩。其中第二件事就是杀除九头蛇怪绪德拉。
　　** 在古典希腊，无论贵族平民、无论穷人富人都穿一种宽松的白色长袍，称作Chiton。Chiton分多利安式（Doric Chiton）和爱奥尼亚式（Ionic Chiton），上面有许多皱褶。
　　
　　
　　The Paper Nautilus
　　
　　by Marianne Moore
　　
　　For authorities whose hopes
　　are shaped by mercenaries?
　　Writers entrapped by
　　teatime fame and by
　　commuters' comforts? Not for these
　　the paper nautilus
　　constructs her thin glass shell.
　　
　　Giving her perishable
　　souvenir of hope, a dull
　　white outside and smooth-
　　edged inner surface
　　glossy as the sea, the watchful
　　maker of it guards it
　　day and night; she scarcely
　　
　　eats until the eggs are hatched.
　　Buried eight-fold in her eight
　　arms, for she is in
　　a sense a devil-
　　fish, her glass ram'shorn-cradled freight
　　is hid but is not crushed;
　　as Hercules, bitten
　　
　　by a crab loyal to the hydra,
　　was hindered to succeed,
　　the intensively
　　watched eggs coming from
　　the shell free it when they are freed,--
　　leaving its wasp-nest flaws
　　of white on white, and close-
　　
　　laid Ionic chiton-folds
　　like the lines in the mane of
　　a Parthenon horse,
　　round which the arms had
　　wound themselves as if they knew love
　　is the only fortress
　　strong enough to trust to.
　　
　　
　　然而
　　
　　[美]玛丽安•摩尔/倪志娟译
　　
　　你看见了一颗草莓
　　曾有过一场争斗；是的
　　在碎片堆积的地方，
　　
　　一只刺猬或一只海
　　星，传播了大量
　　种子。比苹果种子
　　
　　——这果实
　　中的果实——更好的食物，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；它们仍然生长
　　在冻结的地里。那儿曾
　　有一株仙人果
　　
　　叶子粘在带刺的铁丝网上，
　　一条根垂着，长在
　　两英尺下的土中；
　　
　　如同曼德拉草中生出的胡萝卜
　　或者，一只公羊角偶尔
　　生了根。胜利不会降临
　　
　　我，除非我走向
　　它；一根葡萄藤
　　缠绕了一次又一次，一共
　　
　　三十次——于是
　　嫩枝被束缚住——
　　无法动弹，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！
　　
　　*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!
　　
　　
　　精神是一个迷人的东西
　　
　　[美]玛丽安•摩尔/倪志娟译
　　
　　是一个有魔力的东西
　　就像纺织娘
　　翅上的釉
　　被太阳照射出
　　无数格子。
　　就像吉塞金演奏斯卡拉蒂*
　　
　　就像无翼鸟锥形的**
　　喙，或者
　　几维鸟毛绒绒的
　　羽毛雨披，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
　　不需要刻意听
　　就可以听见。
　　就像陀螺降落，
　　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。它
　　就像鸽子的
　　脖颈，在太阳下
　　生机勃勃；它是记忆的眼睛，
　　它是诚实的冲突。
　　
　　它扯掉面纱；撕去
　　心灵眼中的
　　诱惑
　　和薄雾——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
　　冲突。
　　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。
　　
　　*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（Apteryx oweni），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.
　　
　　
　　当我购买图画
　　
　　[美]玛丽安•摩尔/倪志娟译
　　
　　或许更接近真理的是，
　　当我看着，想象自己是其所有者，
　　我总是流连于那些能在平常时刻带给我快乐的东西：
　　好奇与讥讽，与情绪的激动
　　不可分辨之物；
　　或者相反——古旧的事物，中世纪的装饰帽盒，
　　上面画有猎犬，它的腰部逐渐缩小，如沙漏的腰，
　　有鹿，鸟和坐着的人们；
　　可能只是一块镶木地板；文学中的文字自传，
　　站立在一张羊皮纸上；
　　一支洋蓟，有六种不同的蓝色*；鹬腿似的象形文字分成三部分；
　　保护亚当墓穴的银栅栏，以及握着亚当手腕的米迦勒。
　　强调品质的智性因素，或者要求一个人从娱乐中抽身出来，这太苛刻了。
　　不必希望消除任何事物；被认可的胜利也不容易被尊敬——
　　它是伟大的因为其他事物是渺小的。
　　结果是：无论它是什么，
　　它必须被“看透事物生命的尖锐眼神所照亮”；
　　它必须承认制造它的精神力量。
　　
　　*洋蓟一种菊科地中海的蓟类植物 （菜蓟属 洋蓟属），有羽状全裂叶和蓝色花朵的盘状花头
　　
　　
　　When I Buy Pictures
　　
　　or what is closer to the truth,
　　when I look at that of which I may regard myself as the imaginary possessor,
　　I fix upon what would give me pleasure in my average moments:
　　the satire upon curiousity in which no more is discernible
　　than the intensity of the mood;
　　or quite the opposite - the old thing, the medieval decorated hatbox,
　　in which there are hounds with waists diminishing like the waist of the hourglass,
　　and deer and birds and seated people;
　　it may be no more than a square of parquestry; the literal biography perhaps,
　　in letters standing well apart upon a parchment-like expanse;
　　an artichoke in six varieties of blue; the snipe-legged hieroglyphic in three parts;
　　the silver fence protecting Adam's grave, or Michael taking Adam by the wrist.
　　Too stern an intellectual emphasis upon this quality or that detracts from one's enjoyment.
　　It must not wish to disarm anything; nor may the approved triumph easily be honored -
　　that which is great because something else is small.
　　It comes to this: of whatever sort it is,
　　it must be "Lit with piercing glances into the life of things";
　　it must acknowledge the spiritual forces which have made it.
　　
　　
　　贪婪和真理有时相互作用
　　
　　[美]玛丽安•摩尔/倪志娟译
　　
　　我不喜欢钻石；
　　翡翠色的“草灯光”要更好；
　　而得体的谦逊，
　　使人眼花缭乱。
　　一些感谢令人难堪，
　　
　　诗人们，不要大惊小怪；
　　大象“弯曲的小号”“的确书写”；
　　我正在读一本老虎之书——
　　我认为你知道这一点——
　　我承担着义务。
　　
　　一个可能被赦免，是的，我知道
　　一个可能为爱而永恒。
　　
　　
　　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.
　　
　　
　　光谱原色时代*
　　
　　[美]玛丽安•摩尔/倪志娟译
　　
　　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，色彩只因它的原始性
　　而美丽的时代；当雾升起，并没有
　　
　　丝毫改变，直角
　　变为斜角，如此清晰可见
　　亦可明白解释：现在
　　不再是如此；不再有明亮清晰的
　　蓝-红-黄的光谱组合显示的彩色条纹：它也是
　　
　　那些因标新立异而不忍卒读的
　　事物之一；复杂不是一种罪，除非
　　它变得晦涩
　　难以明了。此外，
　　复杂，意味着屈从于黑暗，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。要看宗旨是什么！真理
　　不是阿波罗神殿，不是有形之物。如果它愿意，波浪可以穿过它。
　　它知道自己仍会在那里，说，
　　 “波浪过去时我仍将在原地。”
　　
　　*“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）。
　　
　　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
　　
　　[美]玛丽安•摩尔/倪志娟译
　　
　　另一种甲胄动物——鳞甲
　　层层相叠，像圆锥形的云杉一样整齐，一直到桨尾
　　形成了没有间断的
　　同心圆！近似于有头，腿和装备了坚韧沙囊的
　　朝鲜蓟，
　　这微型的晚间艺术工程师，
　　对，是列奥纳多•达芬奇的复制品——
　　令人难忘的勤劳动物，我们很少听说。
　　盔甲仿佛是多余的。但是对他来说，
　　隐藏着的耳脊——
　　或没有突起之处的
　　裸露的耳朵，有类似安全
　　
　　收缩装备的鼻子和闭上后无法穿透的
　　眼缝，都不是多余的；一个真正的食蚁兽，
　　连蟑螂也不吃，忍受着
　　疲惫不堪的孤独，夜晚，在月光下，
　　尤其要借助于月光，穿行于陌生之地，
　　日出前才回来，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，他避开危险
　　一点也不好斗，
　　只发出一阵无害的嘶嘶声；保持着
　　
　　西敏寺的铁蔓藤雕花
　　那种柔弱的优雅，或者
　　把自己滚成一个球
　　能抵抗任何外力的侵犯；尾巴紧紧蜷起，整洁的
　　头作为中心，没有细瘦的脖子，一直盘绕到脚。
　　他有抵抗利刺的鳞甲；岩石中的洞穴
　　从里面用土封闭，因此
　　变得很黑。
　　太阳与月亮与白昼与夜晚与人与野兽
　　每一样事物带着一份光耀
　　人以其所有的卑劣
　　不应对此视而不见；每一样事物都有其奇妙之处！
　　
　　“胆怯者也是可怖的，”这甲胄的
　　食蚁兽遭遇兵蚁，不后退，而是
　　吞噬他所能吞噬的一切，当兵蚁为了报复，
　　蜂拥爬上他的身体，
　　他放平尾部和身体上锋利的
　　叶状鳞片，四肢和身体剧烈地颤抖。密不透风，如同
　　伽格拉斯雕刻的斗牛士铁头上
　　那顶帽子的卷边，它跌落地上，然后
　　溜走
　　毫发无损，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，一件优雅得体的工具，作为支柱或手或扫帚或斧头，顶端
　　如同大象的鼻尖，有特殊的皮肤，
　　对于这个吞食蚂蚁和石头、难以被伤害的甲胄动物来说，
　　并不是无用的，人们一般认为
　　他靠石头，以及蚂蚁为生，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，他们有坦克似的
　　外形和漂浮似的爬行，
　　被逆境优美地塑造而成。
　　
　　去阐释上帝的恩宠需要
　　一支奇特的手。如果现存的一切不是永恒的，
　　那些人为何要用动物形象使教堂尖顶优美，
　　在那些精巧的石柱之间，要雕刻
　　丰美的矮石座来陈列石像——一个又一个修道士——
　　要辛勤地工作，融合
　　多重美德，爱邻人，宽恕，
　　为何石制窗框中
　　十字型窗棂的巧妙运用
　　其至今仍受到
　　赞赏？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，
　　是精确的典范；有时它按照人特有的姿势，
　　用后面的两腿直行。在太阳和月亮下，人们努力工作
　　使生活更美好，却忽视了另一半值得拥有的鲜花，
　　需要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；蜘蛛一般悬挂在
　　溪流边的
　　绝壁上；在战斗中，配备
　　穿山甲似的机械装置；令人沮丧地
　　
　　倾覆。俗气或刻板的
　　赤裸的，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，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，
　　前进的能力，
　　使其他生物呼吸加快，寒毛竖立的动物
　　为数不多，人正是其中之一。
　　有时毫不畏惧，
　　有时胆怯不前，有时步履谨慎，好像
　　每一步都会遭遇障碍。符合
　　如下标准——温血，无鳃，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。”
　　
　　
　　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."