献给我父亲的挽歌马克·斯特兰德

2009-06-21 23:01:11 来自: gamin(买不起书就惦记着攒钱买定焦)

马克·斯特兰德

沈睿译

1.空空的躯体

手是你的，臂是你的，
但你不在那里。
眼睛是你的，但它们闭着，不能张开。
遥远的太阳在那里。
悬在山岭的白肩膀上的月亮在那里。
冬天苍白的绿光在那里。
你的嘴在那里，
但你不在那里。
当有人说话时，没有应答。
云朵降落
沿水把楼群埋没，
而水静默。
鸥鸟凝视。
年，时，将再也找不到你
它在他人的手表上转动
没有痛苦了，痛苦已离开。
没有秘密了，没什么可要说。
阴影散为灰烬。
身躯是你的，但你不在那里。
触着你的皮肤的空气颤抖着。
黑暗斜钻进你的眼睛。
但你不在那里。

2. 回答

你为什么要旅行？
因为房子太寒冷。
你为什么要旅行？
因为旅行是我在日落与日出之间常做的事。
你穿着什么？
我穿着蓝西服，白衬衫，黄领带和黄袜子。
你穿着什么？
我什么也没穿，痛苦的围巾使我温暖。
你和谁睡觉？
每夜我和一个不同的女人睡觉。
你和谁睡觉？
我一个人睡觉，我总是一个人睡觉。
你为什么向我撒谎？
我老想我在说实话。
你为什么向我撒谎？
因为实话像别的不存在的事物一样撒谎，而我热爱实话。
你为什么要走？
因为对我来说什么都没更多意义。
你为什么要走？
我不知道，我从来都不知道。
我要等你多久？
别等我，我累了，我要躺下。
你累了吗？你想躺下吗？
是啊，我累了，我要躺下。

3.你的死亡
什么也不能使你停下。
最好的日子不能。安静不能。海洋的摇动不能。
你与你的死亡继续前行。
树木不能
你在树下走着，树木不能遮住你。
医生不能
他曾警告过你，这位满头白发的青年医生曾救过一次你的命
你与你的死亡继续前行。
什么都不能使你停下。你的儿子不能。你的女儿不能。
她曾喂你吃的，使你又成为一个孩子。
你的儿子不能，他曾想你会永远活着。
摇动你的衣服翻领的风不能。
把自己赋予你的静止不能。
变得更沉的你的鞋子不能。
不愿看前面的你的眼睛不能。
什么都不能使你停下。
你坐在你的房间中凝视着这座城市
并与你的死亡继续前行。
你继续着，让寒冷走进你的衣服。
你让血渗进你的袜中。
你的脸变白了。
你的声音裂成两半。
你斜靠在你的手杖上。
而什么都不能使你停下。
那给过你忠告的朋友们不能。
你的儿子不能。你的看着你渐渐变小的女儿不能。
你叹息中的疲劳不能。
你得充满了水的肝不能。
盛着你的手臂的疼痛的衣袖不能。
什么都不能使你停下。
你与你的死亡继续前行。
当你与孩子们玩耍时你与你的死亡一起前行。
当你坐下来吃饭，
当你在夜里醒来，泪水涟涟，你的身体在啜泣，
你与你的死亡继续前行。
什么都不能使你停下。
过去不能。
天气明媚的未来不能。
从你窗口望去的风景不能，墓地的风景不能。
这城市不能，这座木质建筑的可怕的城市不能。
失败不能。成功不能。
你什么都不做只与死亡继续前行。
你把表贴进耳朵，你感到你在滑行。
你感到你在滑行。
你躺在床上。
你把双臂叠抱在胸前，你幻想着一个没你的世界，
幻想着树下的空地。
幻想着你房间中的空地，
幻想着由于你离开而空荡的空地。
而你与你的死亡继续前行。

什么都不能使你停下，
你的呼吸不能，你的生命不能。
你需要的生命不能。
你拥有的生命不能。
什么都不能使你停下。

4. 你的影子
你有你的影子。
你所呆的地方已把影子归还给你。
一个孤儿的道路和光秃秃的草地已把影子归还给你。
新闻之家已把影子归还给你。
纽约的大街已把影子归还，蒙特利尔的大街已把影子归还给你。
伯莱姆的那些蝎子要扑咬蚊子的房间已把影子归还给你。
马瑙斯黑乎乎的街道和里约湖潮腻腻的街道已把你的影子归还给你。
你想离开的墨西哥城已把影子归还给你。
冲洗你的手的哈利法克斯市的海港已把你的影子归还。
你有你的影子。
当你旅行时，你行走的白色的波纹把你的影子
赶走，但当你到达时，你的影子已在那里
迎接你。你有你的影子。
你进入的门道把你的影子提升起来，当你走
出时，它又回来。你有你的影子。
甚至当你忘了你的影子之刻，你又发现了它，
你的影子已与你一起。
一次在乡下，一棵树的树荫遮住了你的影子，
没有人认得你。
一次在乡下，你认为你的影子是别的什么人投下的，你的影子说不是。
你的衣服把你的影子裹在里边，当你脱衣时，
影子铺开，像你过去的黑暗。
而你那被忘掉的橡树叶在空中飘落的话语，在
某个无人知晓的地方，你的影子把它们捡了回来。
你的朋友们把你的影子还给你。
你的敌人们把你的影子还给你。他们说它太沉了，
让它盖住你的坟墓吧。
当你死时，你的影子在焚尸炉口睡觉，吃着炉灰，
把炉灰当成面包。
你的影子在废墟中欣喜万分。
你的影子在别人睡觉时注视他们。
你的影子在墓碑中像水晶一样闪耀。
你的影子像空气一样构造着自己。
你的影子想要像雪在水上一样。
它想成为虚无，但这不可能。
你的影子来到我的房子。
它坐在我的肩上。
你的影子是你的，我对它这样说，我说，这影子是你的。
我背负着它太久了，我要把它归还给你。

5. 哀痛
他们哀悼你。
你在午夜时分升起，
露珠在你石头般的双颊上闪烁，
他们哀悼你。
他们领你回到空空荡荡的房间。
他们往里面搬桌椅。
他们坐下教你呼吸。
而你的呼吸燃烧。
它燃毁了松木棺，灰像阳光一样落下。
他们给你一本书让你读。
他们听着，眼睛里充满了泪水。
女人们抚摩你的手指。
他们把你的头发中的金黄梳回来。
他们把你的胡须上的霜剃去。
他们按摩你的双腿。
他们给你穿上了好衣服。
他们揉你的手，让它暖和过来。
他们喂你，他们给你钱。
他们跪下，恳求你别死。
当你在午夜时分升起，他们哀悼你。
他们闭上眼，低呼你的名字，一遍又一遍。
但他们不能把你脉管中已埋藏的光拉回。
他们不能抵及你的梦。
老父亲，没办法。
升起，继续升起吧，永无终止。
他们哀悼你，用他们所用的方式。

6. 新年
这是冬天是新年。
没人认得你。
远离群星，远离光的雨，
你躺在石头的天气下。
没有一根线能把你拽回。
你的朋友们在享乐和无法回忆的
黑夜中打盹。
没人认得你，你是虚无的邻居。
你不看雨正在落下而一个男人走开了。
污浊的风将灰刮过城市。
你不看太阳正拖着月亮像个回声。
你不看受伤的心燃起的火焰，
无知的头颅转变成烟。
你不看累累伤痕的、没光的眼睛。
一切都过去了，这是冬天是新年。
逆来顺受的人正拽着自己走入天国。
没有希望的人正遭受着无处可藏的寒冷。
一切都过去了，没人认得你。
星光在黑暗的水面上摇曳。
大海中有没人曾经见过的石头。
有岸，而人们在等待。
却没人归还。
因为一切都过去了。
因为静寂代替了名字。
因为这是冬天是新年。

2009-06-21 23:05:15 此号作废 (已注销。)

喜欢第二个~

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2009-06-21 23:27:12 gamin (买不起书就惦记着攒钱买定焦)

献给今天相见、五年未见的朋友，为她失去的父亲

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2009-10-17 10:05:45 O'meros (广告位招租)

you went on with your dying!
……

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2009-10-17 10:55:10 龙勋 (你要学会停下来去闻玫瑰花香)

合并一个相关帖子过来：

2009-10-16 21:53:29 流言 (怎样的似水流年)

喜欢

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2009-10-16 22:52:35 马晓莫

喜欢这节奏让人吸不上气了

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2009-10-16 23:11:07 光影 (梦想暂时破灭。)

这个小组很舒服

写的真好

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2009-10-16 23:49:38 萧光子 (..............................)

找到原诗了。
另据某链接，译者是沈睿。

Elegy for My Father
(Robert Strand 1908-1968)

1 THE EMPTY BODY

The hands were yours, the arms were yours,
But you were not there.
The eyes were yours, but they were closed and would not open.
The distant sun was there.
The moon poised on the hillÕs white shoulder was there.
The wind on Bedford Basin was there.
The pale green light of winter was there.
Your mouth was there,
But you were not there.
When somebody spoke, there was no answer.
Clouds came down
And buried the buildings along the water,
And the water was silent.
The gulls stared.
The years, the hours, that would not find you
Turned in the wrists of others.
There was no pain. It had gone.
There were no secrets. There was nothing to say.
The shade scattered its ashes.
The body was yours, but you were not there.
The air shivered against its skin.
The dark leaned into its eyes.
But you were not there.

2 ANSWERS

Why did you travel?
Because the house was cold.
Why did you travel?
Because it is what I have always done between sunset and sunrise.
What did you wear?
I wore a blue suit, a white shirt, yellow tie, and yellow socks.
What did you wear?
I wore nothing. A scarf of pain kept me warm.
Who did you sleep with?
I slept with a different woman each night.
Who did you sleep with?
I slept alone. I have always slept alone.
Why did you lie to me?
I always thought I told the truth.
Why did you lie to me?
Because the truth lies like nothing else and I love the truth.
Why are you going?
Because nothing means much to me anymore.
Why are you going?
I don't know. I have never known.
How long shall I wait for you?
Do not wait for me. I am tired and I want to lie down.
Are you tired and do you want to lie down?
Yes, I am tired and I want to lie down.

3 YOUR DYING

Nothing could stop you.
Not the best day. Not the quiet. Not the ocean rocking.
You went on with your dying.
Not the trees
Under which you walked, not the trees that shaded you.
Not the doctor
Who warned you, the white-haired young doctor who saved you once.
You went on with your dying.
Nothing could stop you. Not your son. Not your daughter
Who fed you and made you into a child again.
Not your son who thought you would live forever.
Not the wind that shook your lapels.
Not the stillness that offered itself to your motion.
Not your shoes that grew heavier.
Not your eyes that refused to look ahead.
Nothing could stop you.
You sat in your room and stared at the city
And went on with your dying.
You went to work and let the cold enter your clothes.
You let blood seep into your socks.
Your face turned white.
Your voice cracked in two.
You leaned on your cane.
But nothing could stop you.
Not your friends who gave you advice.
Not your son. Not your daughter who watched you grow small.
Not fatigue that lived in your sighs.
Not your lungs that would fill with water.
Not your sleeves that carried the pain of your arms.
Nothing could stop you.
You went on with your dying.
When you played with children you went on with your dying.
When you sat down to eat,
When you woke up at night, wet with tears, your body sobbing,
You went on with your dying.
Nothing could stop you.
Not the past.
Not the future with its good weather.
Not the view from your window, the view of the graveyard.
Not the city. Not the terrible city with its wooden buildings.
Not defeat. Not success.
You did nothing but go on with your dying.
You put your watch to your ear.
You felt yourself slipping.
You lay on the bed.
You folded your arms over your chest and you dreamed of the world
without you,
Of the space under the trees,
Of the space in your room,
Of the spaces that would now be empty of you,
And you went on with your dying.
Nothing could stop you.
Not your breathing. Not your life.
Not the life you wanted.
Not the life you had.
Nothing could stop you.

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2009-10-18 21:19:11 claireMJ (兔鼻子老虎眼)

收下～

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2009-10-25 08:02:09 Ikshu

翻得不错，可惜最喜欢的第6节有点弱。

补全原文：

4 YOUR SHADOW

You have your shadow.
The places where you were have given it back.
The hallways and bare lawns of the orphanage have given it back.
The Newsboys Home has given it back.
The streets of New York have given it back and so have the streets of
Montreal.
The rooms in Bel?m where lizards would snap at mosquitos have
given it back.
The dark streets of Manaus and the damp streets of Rio have given it
back.
Mexico City where you wanted to leave it has given it back.
And Halifax where the harbor would wash its hands of you has given
it back.
You have your shadow.
When you traveled the white wake of your going sent your shadow
below, but when you arrived it was there to greet you. You had
your shadow.
The doorways you entered lifted your shadow from you and when you
went out, gave it back. You had your shadow.
Even when you forgot your shadow, you found it again; it had been
with you.
Once in the country the shade of a tree covered your shadow and you
were not known.
Once in the country you thought your shadow had been cast by somebody
else. Your shadow said nothing.
Your clothes carried your shadow inside; when you took them off, it
spread like the dark of your past.
And your words that float like leaves in an air that is lost, in a place
no one knows, gave you back your shadow.
Your friends gave you back your shadow.
Your enemies gave you back your shadow. They said it was heavy and
would cover your grave.
When you died your shadow slept at the mouth of the furnace and ate
ashes for bread.
It rejoiced among ruins.
It watched while others slept.
It shone like crystal among the tombs.
It composed itself like air.
It wanted to be like snow on water.
It wanted to be nothing, but that was not possible.
It came to my house.
It sat on my shoulders.
Your shadow is yours. I told it so. I said it was yours.
I have carried it with me too long. I give it back.

5 MOURNING

They mourn for you.
When you rise at midnight,
And the dew glitters on the stone of your cheeks,
They mourn for you.
They lead you back into the empty house.
They carry the chairs and tables inside.
They sit you down and teach you to breathe.
And your breath burns,
It burns the pine box and the ashes fall like sunlight.
They give you a book and tell you to read.
They listen and their eyes fill with tears.
The women stroke your fingers.
They comb the yellow back into your hair.
They shave the frost from your beard.
They knead your thighs.
They dress you in fine clothes.
They rub your hands to keep them warm.
They feed you. They offer you money.
They get on their knees and beg you not to die.
When you rise at midnight they mourn for you.
They close their eyes and whisper your name over and over.
But they cannot drag the buried light from your veins.
They cannot reach your dreams.
Old man, there is no way.
Rise and keep rising, it does no good.
They mourn for you the way they can.

6 THE NEW YEAR

It is winter and the new year.
Nobody knows you.
Away from the stars, from the rain of light,
You lie under the weather of stones.
There is no thread to lead you back.
Your friends doze in the dark
Of pleasure and cannot remember.
Nobody knows you. You are the neighbor of nothing.
You do not see the rain falling and the man walking away,
The soiled wind blowing its ashes across the city.
You do not see the sun dragging the moon like an echo.
You do not see the bruised heart go up in flames,
The skulls of the innocent turn into smoke.
You do not see the scars of plenty, the eyes without light.
It is over. It is winter and the new year.
The meek are hauling their skins into heaven.
The hopeless are suffering the cold with those who have nothing to
hide.
It is over and nobody knows you.
There is starlight drifting on the black water.
There are stones in the sea no one has seen.
There is a shore and people are waiting.
And nothing comes back.
Because it is over.
Because there is silence instead of a name.
Because it is winter and the new year.

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2009-12-20 13:34:17 冷水泡茶

第三段让我想起系里的一位老教授，有很多很多显微镜和花粉切片，没有学生，每天工作到很晚才回家。因为系里要来新人，他这两个月一直在收拾实验室腾地方，把他的一些显微镜处理掉了。他在决定要留下哪几台的时候这么说的：“我得想想还会用到哪些，不过这好像取决于我能活多久”。

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