BARBARA HOWES：光与暗（汉英）
光与暗
女士啊，小心，因为在垂垂老男们的
钻石眼中形出了你的毁因。
爱被折入褶皱的眼皮后面
以照料他们的恐惧以鄙视他们临近的离去。
肉体垂着如同一间长久不用的房子里
的窗帘，湿润程度类乎没有葡萄酒的酒窖；
它们是我们所有人的未来，当我们
枯叶单薄之时，一个塞壬警报器的渐弱
那酸馊的尖叫。它们没有过去
只有被记忆的掳掠破碎
成垃圾堆的壳。不要跟它们
到它们扎在小洞里的营地，不要待
在给他们的路上，一片使人倦倦的地
将把你迎进去；前方那个招手的店主，
死神这店家，只需脱帽举起
便能把老家伙弄倒在尘土里。读读，
可怜的老男人啊，这感官来的教寓吧；合拢
手脚睡在你的床上吧，别再
在你的翻领里戴如此明艳的一朵玫瑰；
世界的魔咒已被放开，到离去的时候了。
Light and Dark
BY BARBARA HOWES
Lady, take care; for in the diamond eyes
Of old old men is figured your undoing;
Love is turned in behind the wrinkled lids
To nurse their fear and scorn at their near going.
Flesh hangs like the curtains in a house
Long unused, damp as cellars without wine;
They are the future of us all, when we
Will be dried-leaf-thin, the sour whine
Of a siren’s diminuendo. They have no past
But egg husks shattered to a rubbish heap
By memory’s looting. Do not follow them
To their camp pitched in a cranny, do not keep
To the road for them, a weary weary yard
Will bring you in; that beckoning host ahead,
Inn-keeper Death, has but to lift his hat
To topple the oldster in the dust. Read,
Poor old man, the sensual moral; sleep
Narrow in your bed, wear no
More so bright a rose in your lapel;
The spell of the world is loosed, it is time to go.
女士啊，小心，因为在垂垂老男们的
钻石眼中形出了你的毁因。
爱被折入褶皱的眼皮后面
以照料他们的恐惧以鄙视他们临近的离去。
肉体垂着如同一间长久不用的房子里
的窗帘，湿润程度类乎没有葡萄酒的酒窖；
它们是我们所有人的未来，当我们
枯叶单薄之时，一个塞壬警报器的渐弱
那酸馊的尖叫。它们没有过去
只有被记忆的掳掠破碎
成垃圾堆的壳。不要跟它们
到它们扎在小洞里的营地，不要待
在给他们的路上，一片使人倦倦的地
将把你迎进去；前方那个招手的店主，
死神这店家，只需脱帽举起
便能把老家伙弄倒在尘土里。读读，
可怜的老男人啊，这感官来的教寓吧；合拢
手脚睡在你的床上吧，别再
在你的翻领里戴如此明艳的一朵玫瑰；
世界的魔咒已被放开，到离去的时候了。
Light and Dark
BY BARBARA HOWES
Lady, take care; for in the diamond eyes
Of old old men is figured your undoing;
Love is turned in behind the wrinkled lids
To nurse their fear and scorn at their near going.
Flesh hangs like the curtains in a house
Long unused, damp as cellars without wine;
They are the future of us all, when we
Will be dried-leaf-thin, the sour whine
Of a siren’s diminuendo. They have no past
But egg husks shattered to a rubbish heap
By memory’s looting. Do not follow them
To their camp pitched in a cranny, do not keep
To the road for them, a weary weary yard
Will bring you in; that beckoning host ahead,
Inn-keeper Death, has but to lift his hat
To topple the oldster in the dust. Read,
Poor old man, the sensual moral; sleep
Narrow in your bed, wear no
More so bright a rose in your lapel;
The spell of the world is loosed, it is time to go.
