?！さ隆ぐ驳吕伦髌?/h1>
2022-11-11 06:10:26董繼平
散文詩(shī) 2022年7期
◎董繼平 譯
從軀體深處
他不會(huì)睡覺(jué)，他會(huì)花上很多很多個(gè)時(shí)辰來(lái)聆聽(tīng)，最終在紛亂的聲音中辨別出最細(xì)微的喃喃聲，蜘蛛織網(wǎng)的聲音，乃至光芒穿過(guò)帷幔厚厚的褶皺強(qiáng)行推進(jìn)的更小的聲音。沉寂很晚才會(huì)到來(lái)，最后的腳步的回音沿著街道消失。只有在那時(shí)，來(lái)自他的軀體深處的劇烈心跳才會(huì)如釋重負(fù)地顯現(xiàn)出來(lái)。它始終在那里，但只有在這樣的時(shí)刻才會(huì)從其他聲音中脫穎而出，每次心跳都具有利劍的輪廓。它要持續(xù)到何時(shí)？因?yàn)橛幸粋€(gè)時(shí)刻會(huì)來(lái)臨，他對(duì)此毫不懷疑，那時(shí)，夜晚的沙漠和軀體的沉寂會(huì)形成唯一的實(shí)質(zhì)，跟露水的熱情永遠(yuǎn)密不可分，在早晨攀登最后的臺(tái)階。
FROM THE DEPTHSOF THE BODY
He wouldn’t sleep， he would spend hours and hours listening，finally making out in the tangle of sounds the minutest murmurs， the spider spinning his web or， even less audible， the light forcing its way through the thick folds of the drapes.Silence would arrive late，the echo of the last steps lost down the street.Only then would that pounding coming from the depths of his body show in relief.It had always been there， but only at such moments would it arise clean of other sounds， each beat with the profile of a sword.Till when would it last?For there would come a time， of this he hadn't the slightest doubt， when the desert of the night and the silence of the body would form a single substance， forever inseparable from the ardor of the dew， climbing in the morning the final steps.
在最初和最后的微光之間
我曾經(jīng)只有兩三歲，如今已年滿六旬，光芒一如既往地呼喚，仿佛我誕生于光芒，不能不回去。在最初和最后的微光之間，全身總讓自己滲透了熱量，而那種熱量變成一種愛(ài)撫，存在于我們本質(zhì)中最精致透明、最不可估量的部分之中，對(duì)于那個(gè)部分，我們也未能稱之為光，我們永不會(huì)知道賦予它什么名字。
BETWEEN THE FIRST AND LAST TWILICHT
I was two or three years old， now I am sixty， and the call of the light is the same， as if I had been born from it and could not fail to return.Between the first twilight and the last， the entire body has always let itself be penetrated by that heat that turns to a caress in the most diaphanous and imponderable part of our being， a part to which， were we to fail to call it light as well， we would never r know what name to give.
那張紙
那里的那張紙。即使是如此潔白的雪也不會(huì)很冷。手指以一種愛(ài)撫的方式臨近，試圖軟化、稀釋那么多敵意，但它們卻受到恐懼的影響而迅速撤離。因?yàn)檫@種潔白在燃燒，在沒(méi)人看見(jiàn)的一團(tuán)火焰中默默地發(fā)光發(fā)熱。很長(zhǎng)時(shí)間，唯有眼睛將它找出來(lái)，凝視它。一動(dòng)不動(dòng)，沒(méi)有松懈其烈度。你幾乎聽(tīng)得見(jiàn)你的脈搏在悸動(dòng)。突然，手指伸出來(lái)，跳躍，猶如鷹隼移動(dòng)，它們不再愛(ài)撫，相反，在一場(chǎng)毫不留情的斗爭(zhēng)中撕扯、割裂、追逐獵物，在積雪中留下它們存在的痕跡，時(shí)而得意洋洋，時(shí)而煩惱憂傷，時(shí)而奄奄一息。
THAT SHEET
That sheet of paper there.So white not even snow is quite as cold.Fingers approach in a kind of caress， trying to soften， to dilute， so much hostility， but quickly they withdraw， touched by fear.It is so difficult For this whiteness burns， glowing silently in a fire that no one sees.For a long time， only the eyes seek it out，gaze at it.Motionless， without relaxing their intensity.One can almost hear the throbbing of one’s pulse.Suddenly，the fingers reach out， leap;moving like a falcon， they no longer caress， rather tear， lacerate， pursue their prey in a struggle with no quarter given， leaving behind in the snow traces of their presence， at times triumphant， at times distressed， at times nearly dead.
詩(shī)歌就像這樣
我不知我在哪里醒來(lái)，光芒迷失在那很長(zhǎng)很長(zhǎng)的走廊盡頭，走廊兩邊排列著房間，其中一間是你的，要到達(dá)那里需要很長(zhǎng)很長(zhǎng)時(shí)間，我的腳步是男孩的腳步，但你的目光帶著那么多愛(ài)，那么多愛(ài)等待著，因此你跑上前來(lái)迎接我，害怕空氣會(huì)絆倒我——哦，甚于任何音樂(lè)。
THAT’SWHAT POETRY ISLIKE
I don’t know where I awoke， the light losing itself at the end of the long， long hallway， rooms on both sides， one of them is yours， it takes a long， long time to get there， my steps are those of boy， but your eyes are waiting， with so much love， so much，that you run to meet me， afraid that I will stumble on the air—oh more than any music.
用目光
也許有一天。也許有一天，我們將觸及那個(gè)嗓音，那個(gè)在那時(shí)擺脫了我們肩頭上光芒的重量的嗓音。然后，目光將結(jié)束自己的職責(zé)；目光，最真實(shí)的現(xiàn)實(shí)的快樂(lè)的器具。因?yàn)榭匆?jiàn)始終就是觸摸。在手要采集九月最后閃爍的微光之前，就用目光去一一觸摸每件東西吧?？纯此鼈?cè)鯓訋е匣⒌哪欠N黃褐色怠惰而逝去。
WITH THE EYES
Perhaps one day， Perhaps one day we will reach that voice，free by then of the weight of light upon our shoulders.The eyes will come then to the end of their task;the eyes， happy instruments of the most real reality.For to see was always to touch.To touch， one by one， each thing with the eyes， before the hand would approach to gather the last shimmering of September.Look how it moves away with the tawny indolence of a tiger.
童 年
我出去觀看歐椋鳥(niǎo)，在傍晚的這個(gè)時(shí)辰，那些鳥(niǎo)兒密密麻麻，在樹(shù)木上空不斷盤(pán)旋。當(dāng)夜幕降臨時(shí)，我已回到屋里，我的凝視帶著燃燒的火花將其射穿。光芒就是那我?guī)Щ貋?lái)的一切，因?yàn)槲乙埠ε潞诎怠?/p>
CHILDHOOD
I go out to watch the starlings;they are countless at this hour of the evening， circling repeatedly over the trees.When nightfall， I’m already back inside， my gaze shot through with flaming scintillations.The light is all that I bring back with me， for I， too， fear the dark.
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◎董繼平 譯
從軀體深處
他不會(huì)睡覺(jué)，他會(huì)花上很多很多個(gè)時(shí)辰來(lái)聆聽(tīng)，最終在紛亂的聲音中辨別出最細(xì)微的喃喃聲，蜘蛛織網(wǎng)的聲音，乃至光芒穿過(guò)帷幔厚厚的褶皺強(qiáng)行推進(jìn)的更小的聲音。沉寂很晚才會(huì)到來(lái)，最后的腳步的回音沿著街道消失。只有在那時(shí)，來(lái)自他的軀體深處的劇烈心跳才會(huì)如釋重負(fù)地顯現(xiàn)出來(lái)。它始終在那里，但只有在這樣的時(shí)刻才會(huì)從其他聲音中脫穎而出，每次心跳都具有利劍的輪廓。它要持續(xù)到何時(shí)？因?yàn)橛幸粋€(gè)時(shí)刻會(huì)來(lái)臨，他對(duì)此毫不懷疑，那時(shí)，夜晚的沙漠和軀體的沉寂會(huì)形成唯一的實(shí)質(zhì)，跟露水的熱情永遠(yuǎn)密不可分，在早晨攀登最后的臺(tái)階。
FROM THE DEPTHSOF THE BODY
He wouldn’t sleep， he would spend hours and hours listening，finally making out in the tangle of sounds the minutest murmurs， the spider spinning his web or， even less audible， the light forcing its way through the thick folds of the drapes.Silence would arrive late，the echo of the last steps lost down the street.Only then would that pounding coming from the depths of his body show in relief.It had always been there， but only at such moments would it arise clean of other sounds， each beat with the profile of a sword.Till when would it last?For there would come a time， of this he hadn't the slightest doubt， when the desert of the night and the silence of the body would form a single substance， forever inseparable from the ardor of the dew， climbing in the morning the final steps.
在最初和最后的微光之間
我曾經(jīng)只有兩三歲，如今已年滿六旬，光芒一如既往地呼喚，仿佛我誕生于光芒，不能不回去。在最初和最后的微光之間，全身總讓自己滲透了熱量，而那種熱量變成一種愛(ài)撫，存在于我們本質(zhì)中最精致透明、最不可估量的部分之中，對(duì)于那個(gè)部分，我們也未能稱之為光，我們永不會(huì)知道賦予它什么名字。
BETWEEN THE FIRST AND LAST TWILICHT
I was two or three years old， now I am sixty， and the call of the light is the same， as if I had been born from it and could not fail to return.Between the first twilight and the last， the entire body has always let itself be penetrated by that heat that turns to a caress in the most diaphanous and imponderable part of our being， a part to which， were we to fail to call it light as well， we would never r know what name to give.
那張紙
那里的那張紙。即使是如此潔白的雪也不會(huì)很冷。手指以一種愛(ài)撫的方式臨近，試圖軟化、稀釋那么多敵意，但它們卻受到恐懼的影響而迅速撤離。因?yàn)檫@種潔白在燃燒，在沒(méi)人看見(jiàn)的一團(tuán)火焰中默默地發(fā)光發(fā)熱。很長(zhǎng)時(shí)間，唯有眼睛將它找出來(lái)，凝視它。一動(dòng)不動(dòng)，沒(méi)有松懈其烈度。你幾乎聽(tīng)得見(jiàn)你的脈搏在悸動(dòng)。突然，手指伸出來(lái)，跳躍，猶如鷹隼移動(dòng)，它們不再愛(ài)撫，相反，在一場(chǎng)毫不留情的斗爭(zhēng)中撕扯、割裂、追逐獵物，在積雪中留下它們存在的痕跡，時(shí)而得意洋洋，時(shí)而煩惱憂傷，時(shí)而奄奄一息。
THAT SHEET
That sheet of paper there.So white not even snow is quite as cold.Fingers approach in a kind of caress， trying to soften， to dilute， so much hostility， but quickly they withdraw， touched by fear.It is so difficult For this whiteness burns， glowing silently in a fire that no one sees.For a long time， only the eyes seek it out，gaze at it.Motionless， without relaxing their intensity.One can almost hear the throbbing of one’s pulse.Suddenly，the fingers reach out， leap;moving like a falcon， they no longer caress， rather tear， lacerate， pursue their prey in a struggle with no quarter given， leaving behind in the snow traces of their presence， at times triumphant， at times distressed， at times nearly dead.
詩(shī)歌就像這樣
我不知我在哪里醒來(lái)，光芒迷失在那很長(zhǎng)很長(zhǎng)的走廊盡頭，走廊兩邊排列著房間，其中一間是你的，要到達(dá)那里需要很長(zhǎng)很長(zhǎng)時(shí)間，我的腳步是男孩的腳步，但你的目光帶著那么多愛(ài)，那么多愛(ài)等待著，因此你跑上前來(lái)迎接我，害怕空氣會(huì)絆倒我——哦，甚于任何音樂(lè)。
THAT’SWHAT POETRY ISLIKE
I don’t know where I awoke， the light losing itself at the end of the long， long hallway， rooms on both sides， one of them is yours， it takes a long， long time to get there， my steps are those of boy， but your eyes are waiting， with so much love， so much，that you run to meet me， afraid that I will stumble on the air—oh more than any music.
用目光
也許有一天。也許有一天，我們將觸及那個(gè)嗓音，那個(gè)在那時(shí)擺脫了我們肩頭上光芒的重量的嗓音。然后，目光將結(jié)束自己的職責(zé)；目光，最真實(shí)的現(xiàn)實(shí)的快樂(lè)的器具。因?yàn)榭匆?jiàn)始終就是觸摸。在手要采集九月最后閃爍的微光之前，就用目光去一一觸摸每件東西吧?？纯此鼈?cè)鯓訋е匣⒌哪欠N黃褐色怠惰而逝去。
WITH THE EYES
Perhaps one day， Perhaps one day we will reach that voice，free by then of the weight of light upon our shoulders.The eyes will come then to the end of their task;the eyes， happy instruments of the most real reality.For to see was always to touch.To touch， one by one， each thing with the eyes， before the hand would approach to gather the last shimmering of September.Look how it moves away with the tawny indolence of a tiger.
童 年
我出去觀看歐椋鳥(niǎo)，在傍晚的這個(gè)時(shí)辰，那些鳥(niǎo)兒密密麻麻，在樹(shù)木上空不斷盤(pán)旋。當(dāng)夜幕降臨時(shí)，我已回到屋里，我的凝視帶著燃燒的火花將其射穿。光芒就是那我?guī)Щ貋?lái)的一切，因?yàn)槲乙埠ε潞诎怠?/p>
CHILDHOOD
I go out to watch the starlings;they are countless at this hour of the evening， circling repeatedly over the trees.When nightfall， I’m already back inside， my gaze shot through with flaming scintillations.The light is all that I bring back with me， for I， too， fear the dark.
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