窗外飘雪，卧读但丁，发现赫伯特、沃尔科特的“吃心”和“天堂”开篇有内在的联系。

Vita Nova by Dante Alighieri, trans. Andrew Frisardi

(Recommended Citation: Alighieri, Dante. Vita Nova. Trans. Andrew Frisardi. Evanston: Northwestern UP, 2012.)

1

In the book of my memory—the part of it before which not much is legible—there is the headingIncipit vita nova.Under this heading I find the words which I intend to copy down in this little book; if not all of them, at least their essential meaning.

Nine times, the heaven of the light had returned to where it was at my birth, almost to the very same point of its orbit, when the glorious lady of my mind first appeared before my eyes—she whom many called Beatrice without even knowing that was her name. She had already been in this life long enough for the heaven of the fixed stars to have moved toward the east a twelfth of a degree since she was born, so that she was at the beginning of her ninth year when she appeared to me, and I saw her when I was almost at the end of my ninth. She appeared, dressed in a very stately color, a subdued and dignified crimson, girdled and adorned in a manner that was fitting for her young age.

At that time, truly, I say, the vital spirit, which dwells in the innermost chamber of the heart, started to tremble so powerfully that its disturbance reached all the way to the slightest of my pulses. And trembling it spoke these words: “Ecce deus fortior me, qui veniens dominabitur michi.”*At that time the animal spirit, which dwells in the high chamber to which all the spirits of sensation carry their perceptions, began to marvel, and speaking especially to the spirits of vision it said: “Apparuit iam beatitudo vestra.”†At that time the natural spirit, which dwells where our food is digested, started to cry, and crying it spoke these words: “Heu miser, quia frequenter impeditus ero deinceps!”‡

From then on, I swear that Love dominated my soul, which was wedded to him so early, and began to rule me with such confidence and power, by means of the force my imagination lent him, there was no choice but for me to do whatever he wanted. Time after time he ordered me to search for where I might glimpse this youthful angel; so that in my boyhood I went searching for her often, and observed that her bearing was so dignified and praiseworthy that it can truly be said of her as Homer wrote: “She did not seem the daughter of a mortal man, but rather of a god.” And even though her image, which was constantly with me, was the means by which Love ruled me, it was so dignified in its power that it never allowed Love to govern me without the faithful counsel of reason, in those matters where such guidance was helpful. Since dwelling on the passions and actions of one so young is like telling a tall tale, I will leave that behind; and passing over many things that could be copied from the same source, I come to words written in my memory under larger paragraphs.

After so many days had passed that it was exactly nine years since the above-named apparition of this most gracious of women, on the last of these days that marvelous lady appeared to me dressed in pure white, between two gracious women, both of whom were older than she. And passing along a street, she turned her eyes in the direction of where I stood gripped by fear, and thanks to her ineffable benevolence and grace, which now is rewarded in eternal life, she greeted me with such power that then and there I seemed to see to the farthest reaches of beatitude.

It was exactly the ninth hour of that day when her intoxicatingly lovely greeting came to me. And since it was the first time her words had reached my ears, I felt such bliss that I withdrew from people as if I were drunk, away to the solitude of my room, and settled down to think about this most graceful of women. And thinking about her, a sweet sleep came over me, in which appeared a tremendous vision.

I seemed to see a fiery cloud in my room, inside which I discerned a figure of a lordly man, frightening to behold. And it was marvelous how utterly full of joy he seemed. And among the words that he spoke, I understood only a few, including: “Ego dominus tuus.”§In his arms I thought I saw a sleeping person, naked but for a crimson silken cloth that seemed to be draped about her, who, when I looked closely, I realized was the lady of the saving gesture, she who earlier that day had deigned to salute me. And in one of his hands it seemed that he held something consumed by flame, and I thought I heard him say these words: “Vide cor tuum.”¶And when he had been there a while, it seemed that he awakened the sleeping lady, and he was doing all he could to get her to eat the thing burning in his hands, which she anxiously ate. Then his happiness turned into the bitterest tears, and as he cried he picked up this woman in his arms, and he seemed to go off toward the sky. At which point I felt more anguish than my light sleep could sustain, and I woke.

And immediately I started to think, realizing that the hour in which this vision appeared to me had been the fourth hour of that night, in other words the first of the last nine hours of night. Thinking over what had happened to me, I decided to relate it to several of the well-known poets of that time, and since I already had some experience in the art of writing verse, I decided to compose a sonnet in which I would greet all of Love’s faithful. And asking them to interpret my vision, I wrote to them about what I had seen in my sleep. And then I started the sonnet “To all besotted souls.”

To all besotted souls, my counterparts, to whom these verses come with a petition to write me what you think of my rendition: greetings in Love, the lord of open hearts. Already nearly over by a third were all those hours lit up by stars till morning, when Love appeared before me without warning. I shudder thinking what his presence stirred. It seemed that he was overjoyed in keeping my heart in hand, his arms a gentle bed for someone draped in silk—my lady sleeping. He woke her. And, respectfully, he fed that burning heart to her, who shook with dread. Then, as he turned to leave, I saw him weeping.

This sonnet is divided into two parts. In the first part I offer my greetings and ask for a response; in the second part I indicate what ought to be responded to. The second part begins with, “Already nearly.”

* “Here is a god stronger than I, who comes to rule me.” † “Your beatitude [or bliss] has now appeared.” ‡ “What misery, since from now on I will often be blocked [in my digestion]!” § “I am your lord.” ¶ “Behold your heart.”

2

Many people responded to this sonnet and gave various interpretations of it. One of the responses came from somebody whom I consider my best friend, who wrote a sonnet beginning, “You saw, it seems to me, the whole of worth.” His discovery that I was the one who had sent the poem was, so to speak, the beginning of our friendship. The correct interpretation of my dream was not understood by anyone at first, but now it is clear to even the most simple-minded.

From the time of this vision, my natural spirit started to be hindered in its functioning, since my soul was completely absorbed in thinking about this most gracious of women. Thus in no time at all I grew so frail and weak that the sight of me weighed on many of my friends. And many spitefully curious sorts of people hunted for ways to find out the very thing about me that I wanted to keep hidden from others. Aware their questions were malicious, I responded to them—through the will of Love, who commanded me in keeping with reason’s counsel—that Love was the one who had ruled me in that way. I said Love since my face showed so many signs of him that disguising it wasn’t possible. And when they asked me, “Over whom are you so wrecked by Love?” I would look at them smiling and tell them nothing.

It happened one day that this most gracious of women was sitting in a place where words about the Queen of Glory were being listened to, and I was positioned in such a way that I saw my beatitude. And in the middle of a direct line between her and me was seated a gracious and very attractive woman who kept looking at me wondering about my gaze, which seemed to rest on her. Many people were aware of her looking, and so much attention was being paid to it that, as I was leaving the place, I heard people saying, “Look at the state he is in over that woman.” And hearing her name I understood they were talking about the woman who had been situated midpoint in the straight line that proceeded from that most gracious lady, Beatrice, and reached its end in my eyes.

Then I felt relieved, confident my secret had not been betrayed that day by my appearance. And immediately I thought of using the gracious woman as a screen for the truth, and I made such a show over it in a short amount of time that most people who talked about me thought they knew my secret.

I concealed myself by means of this woman for a number of years and months. And to make others even greater believers I wrote certain little rhymes for her which I do not intend to write down here if they don’t relate in some way to that most gracious lady, Beatrice. And so I will leave out all of them other than something I will write down that plainly is in praise of her.

I tell you that, during the time when this woman was a screen for this great love of mine, I was taken with a wish to record the name of that most gracious of women and to place it in the company of many women’s names, especially this gracious woman’s. And I gathered together the names of sixty of the most beautiful women of the city where my lady was put by the supreme Lord, and I composed an epistolary poem in the form of aserventese, which I will not write down here. And I wouldn’t even have mentioned it if it were not to say what wondrously took place as I was composing it: the name of my lady would not settle for being in any other position, among the names of these women, but that of the number nine.

The woman with whom I had for quite some time concealed my desire had to leave the above-named city to go to a place that was far away. As a result, rather disconcerted over having lost my lovely defense, I felt utterly miserable—much more so than I would have believed possible. And realizing that, if I didn’t speak about her departure somewhat despondently, people would soon catch on to my cover, I decided to lament it in a sonnet, which I will write down here, since my lady was the direct source for certain words in the sonnet, as is plain to anyone who understands it. And then I wrote this sonnet, which begins,“O all ye passing by.”

O all ye passing by along Love's way, attend a while and see if there be sorrow such as I sustain. Please suffer me and listen now, I pray; imagine patiently if I am inn and key to every pain. Not, surely, by my merit's meager sway: by Love's nobility, Love placed me in a life so sweet and sane, I often heard behind me others say: “How did he earn to be so weightless in his heart—please, God, explain?” Now I have lost impetuous delight that all my tender loving treasure lent, and I am indigent because I’m timid when I talk or write. So that, like those who hide impoverishment for shame of how they seem in others’ sight, outside my mood is light, while in my heart I wither and lament.

This sonnet has two main parts. In the first I mean to call on Love’s faithful, with those words of the prophet Jeremiah: “O is it nothing to you, all ye that pass by? behold, and see if there be any sorrow like unto my sorrow,” and to ask them to be patient enough to hear me out. In the second part I tell where Love placed me, with a sense different from the one at the end of the sonnet, and I tell what I have lost. The second part begins: “Not, surely, by my merit’s.”

爱（三）

乔治• 赫伯特

爱命我来迎侯，我的灵魂却退缩， 自责于微尘和罪。 而敏目的爱，察觉我变得泄气 自我初次进入时， 便接近我，柔声询问 是否我缺少什么。

“一个客人，”我回答，“配得上在这里”； 爱说：“你就应该是他。” “我，不善且不义的？啊我亲爱的， 我不能凝视你。” 爱拉着我的手笑着回答， “谁造了双眼除了我？”

“真理，主啊，可我已玷污了它们；让我的耻辱 去它该去之处。” “你不知道，”爱说，“谁承担罪责？” “我亲爱的，我将伺服于他。” “你必须坐下，”爱说，“并吃我的肉。” 于是我坐下来并吃了。

爱过之后的爱

德里克•沃尔科特

那时候终会来到 带着欣快 你会欢迎那来到你自己门口的 自己，在你自己的镜子里 彼此对着对方的欢迎微笑，

并说，坐在这儿。吃。 你会再次爱那曾是你自己的陌生者。 拿出酒。拿出面包。将你的心归还给 它自己，还给那爱了你一生的

陌生人，你为了另一个而忽视了的 陌生人，他打心眼里知道你。 从书架上取下情书，

照片，绝望的字条， 从镜中剥下你自己的形象。 坐下。享用你的一生。