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羅伯特·勃萊（Robert Bly，1926—），美國詩人。生于明尼蘇達(dá)州馬迪森市。美國六、七十年代“新超現(xiàn)實主義”的主要推動者和代表性詩人。五十年代以前，詩風(fēng)深受新批評派影響。從五十年代后期起，開始倡導(dǎo)反學(xué)院派詩風(fēng)。著有詩集《雪地里的寂靜》、《身體周圍的光》、《在耕耘中找到的蘋果》等。
八月陽光
八月，一束束陽光穿過百葉窗傾灑進(jìn)來。 幾筐未回復(fù)的信封 躺在椅上。 肯定有些傻家伙住在這兒。 （馮默諶 譯）
August Sun
Strips of August sun come in through shutters. Baskets of unanswered letters lie on chairs. Some foolish man must live here.
隱士
黑暗穿過黑暗并從中跌落， 從一處暗礁落向 另一處暗礁。 有個人的身體十分完美。 他站在暴風(fēng)雨后， 而草葉在身后的風(fēng)中跳躍。 黑暗聚集在他的腳上。 他是虛無之人。當(dāng)我們看到他時， 我們變得平靜， 并航行著進(jìn)入快樂的死亡隧道中。 （馮默諶 譯）
The Hermit
Darkness is falling through darkness Falling from ledge To ledge. There is a man whose body is perfectly whole. He stands the storm behind him And the grass blades are leaping in the wind. Darkness is gathered in folds About his feet. He is no one. When we see Him we grow calm And sail on into the tunnels of joyful death.
圣誕節(jié)開車送父母回家
穿過風(fēng)雪，當(dāng)我開車送父母回家時 他們的虛弱的身體在山坡邊猶豫。 我向著懸崖大喊 只有雪花回應(yīng)。 他們安靜地談?wù)撝?/span> 搬運(yùn)水，和吃桔子 還有昨晚忘帶了的孫子的照片。 當(dāng)他們打開自己的房門時，他們便消失了。 而當(dāng)橡樹在森林里倒下時， 誰又能聽到綿延數(shù)英里的寂靜？ 他們彼此緊緊地挨坐著， 仿佛是被雪擠壓在一起。 （馮默諶 譯）
Driving my Parents Home at Christmas
As I drive my parents home through the snow their frailty hesitates on the edge of a mountainside. I call over the cliff only snow answers. They talk quietly of hauling water of eating an orange of a grandchild's photograph left behind last night. When they open the door of their house they disappear. And the oak when it falls in the forest who hears it through miles and miles of silence？ They sit so close to each other…as if pressed together by the snow.
衣夾
我想要我的一生都來制作 衣夾。這樣就沒有什么會被傷害， 除了一些松樹，也許在我所擁有的 土地上，我會重新把它們種植。我會看到 在湖邊晾衣線上的我的作品， 十月的一天，往北走， 或許是十二塊衣夾，木料 依舊清新，還有一陣微風(fēng)輕吹著。 （馮默諶 譯）
CLOTHESPINS
I’d like to have spent my life making Clothespins. Nothing would be harmed, Except some pines, probably on land I owned and would replant. I’d see My work on clotheslines near some lake, Up north on a day in October, Perhaps twelve clothespins, the wood Still fresh, and a light wind blowing.
在一列火車上
下了一場小雪。 黑色的鐵軌在黑暗中駛動。 我盯著黏了微塵的車窗， 在蒙大拿州的米蘇拉醒來時，我十分高興。 （馮默諶 譯）
In a Train
There has been a light snow. Dark car tracks move in out of the darkness. I stare at the train window marked with soft dust. I have awakened at Missoula Montana utterly happy.
在多雨的九月
在多雨的九月，樹葉在黑暗下生長， 我把額頭貼向潮濕的，散發(fā)有海草氣息的沙地上。 時間已經(jīng)到來。而我把選擇推遲多年， 或許是整個生命。羊齒草沒有選擇，只能生活； 為此，它遭受著泥土，水和夜的擊打。
我們關(guān)上門。“我對你沒有要求。” 黃昏來了。“我對你的愛也已足夠。” 我們知道離開彼此后仍可獨自生活。 麻鴨離開鴨群后漂泊。 橡樹在孤獨的山坡上伸出它的樹葉。
在我們之前的男女早已做到這點。 我每年都會見你，而你也會如此。 我們是兩顆麥粒，不會被種植。 我們呆在屋子里，關(guān)上門，熄了燈， 我和你一起哭泣，沒有羞愧，也沒有尊嚴(yán)。 （馮默諶 譯）
In Rainy September
In rainy September, when leaves grow down to the dark, I put my forehead down to the damp, seaweed-smelling sand. The time has come. I have put off choosing for years, perhaps whole lives. The fern has no choice but to live; for this crime it receives earth, water, and night.
We close the door. “I have no claim on you.” Dusk comes. “The love I have had with you is enough.” We know we could live apart from one another. The sheldrake floats apart from the flock. The oak tree puts out leaves alone on the lonely hillside.
Men and women before us have accomplished this. I would see you, and you me, once a year. We would be two kernels, and not be planted. We stay in the room, door closed, lights out. I weep with you without shame and without honor.
飲馬
考慮放下所有野心，多么奇妙！ 突然間，我清澈的眼睛看到 白色的雪花， 剛落在馬的鬃毛上。 （馮默諶 譯）
Watering the Horse
How strange to think of giving up all ambition！ Suddenly I see with such clear eyes The white flake of snow That has just fallen on the horse’s mane！
為什么我們還不能死
九月下旬，很多聲音 告訴你，你將會死去。 那片葉子也這樣說。那冰涼。 他們說的都對。
我們許多的靈魂——關(guān)于它 它們又能做什么呢？ 無可奈何。它們早已成為 無形世界的一部分。
即便如此 我們的靈魂依然 渴望回家。“已經(jīng)遲了，”它們說。 “鎖上門，讓我們走吧。”
身體卻不同意。它說， “在那棵樹下，我們埋了 一顆小小的鐵球。 讓我們?nèi)?/span>挖出它。” （馮默諶 譯）
Why We Don't Die
In late September many voices Tell you you will die. That leaf says it. That coolness. All of them are right.
Our many souls - what Can they do about it？ Nothing. They're already Part of the invisible.
Our souls have been Longing to go home Anyway. 'It's late,' they say. 'Lock the door, let's go.'
The body doesn't agree. It says, 'We buried a little iron Ball under that tree. Let's go get it.'
煎魚的老婦 給唐納德·霍爾
你聽說過那個在黑水邊 散步的男孩嗎？我不會說太多。 讓我們等上幾年。它想要有人進(jìn)入。 有時當(dāng)一個人獨自走在一塊池塘邊，一只手 便伸過來，把他拉下去。 沒有什么惡意， 準(zhǔn)確地說。池塘寂寞，或者缺鈣， 骨頭就行。然后發(fā)生了什么？ 它有點像柔和的夜風(fēng)， 慢慢地移動，又像深夜里 廚房中一位嘆息的老婦，移鍋 生火，為貓做些食物。 （馮默諶 譯）
注：唐納德·霍爾(Donald Hall,1928.9.20—2018.6.23)，美國詩人，作者好友。
The Old Woman Frying Perch
Have you heard about the boy who walked by The black water？ I won't say much more. Let's wait a few years. It wanted to be entered. Sometimes a man walks by a pond, and a hand Reaches out and pulls him in. There was no Intention, exactly. The pond was lonely, or needed Calcium, bones would do. What happened then？ It was a little like the night wind, which is soft, And moves slowly, sighing like an old woman In her kitchen late at night, moving pans About, lighting a fire, making some food for the cat. For Donald Hall
有些男人很難完成的句子
有時候，一個男人無法說 他怎么了……一陣風(fēng)吹來， 他的門沒有吱響。雨 滴落，他的頭發(fā)是干的。
有許多事物存于內(nèi)心， 還有許多……有時，羞愧 意味著我們……孩子令人心痛， 他六歲，他的手……
甚至，當(dāng)哈姆雷特經(jīng)過時 國王祈禱著， 并說， “有些事物……” （馮默諶 譯）
IT'S HARD FOR SOME MEN TO FINISH SENTENCES
Sometimes a man can't say What he …… A wind comes And his doors don't rattle. Rain Comes and his hair is dry.
There's a lot to keep inside And a lot to ……Sometimes shame Means we…… Children are cruel, He's six and his hand……
Even Hamlet kept passing The king praying And the king said, 'There was something……
生活和狗之間的相似性
相信我，我從未想要過這種生活—— 它恰好發(fā)生。你知道狗會如何出現(xiàn) 在農(nóng)場，它們搖晃著尾巴，卻無法解釋。
那很不錯，如果你接受生活——你會發(fā)現(xiàn) 自己的臉已變形，要努力適應(yīng) 它。當(dāng)你十歲時，你的面孔
以為生活就像你臥室里的鏡子。 那是一條清澈的河流，被山風(fēng)拂過。 甚至連你的父母也不相信你的變化如此巨大。
冬日的麻雀，如果你曾捉到一只，所有的羽毛， 用力沖出你的手掌，伴隨一陣強(qiáng)烈的喜悅。 后來你在籬笆間看到它們。老師表揚(yáng)你，
可是你再也回不到那個冬天，再也找不到那只麻雀。 你的生活像一條狗。它已餓了一路。 并非因為喜歡你，只是沒有辦法，才走進(jìn)來。 （馮默諶 譯）
The Resemblance Between Your Life and a Dog
I never intended to have this life, believe me - It just happened. You know how dogs turn up At a farm, and they wag but can't explain.
It's good if you can accept your life - you'll notice Your face has become deranged trying to adjust To it. Your face thought your life would look
Like your bedroom mirror when you were ten. That was a clear river touched by mountain wind. Even your parents can't believe how much you've changed.
Sparrows in winter, if you've ever held one, all feathers, Burst out of your hand with a fiery glee. You see them later in hedges. Teachers praise you,
But you can't quite get back to the winter sparrow. Your life is a dog. He's been hungry for miles. Doesn't particularly like you, but gives up, and comes in.
在一只小舟上閱讀
我很高興能在那只小舟上，漂浮 在被靈巧之光 雕刻的橡樹葉下。
有多少次，我笑著 度過黑夜，因為她 走近，留下，或者回來。
船停了，我醒了。 但書頁一直在翻動。我跳 回書中，恰好趕上。
我沒有痛苦，沒有饑餓， 朋友，我還活著，沉睡著， 并一直讀著一本書。 （馮默諶 譯）
READING IN A BOAT
I was glad to be in that boat, floating Under oak leaves that had been Carved by crafty light.
How many times during the night I laughed, because She Came near, and stayed, or returned.
The boat stopped, and I woke. But the pages kept turning. I jumped Back in the book, and caught up.
I was not in pain, not hungry, Friend, I was alive, sleeping, And all that time reading a book.
在豐田車中的臉
假想有一天，你在豐田車中 看到一張臉，然后你愛上了它， 那是她，當(dāng)世界急駛而過 如蒙大拿州街上吹落的灰塵。
然后，你向上進(jìn)入一些深穴， 你無法從一粒沙中和上帝對話。 你的生活已然改變，而你現(xiàn)在 比過去更容易忽略一些事物。
而那些被你忽略的事物會把你埋葬， 你被擊垮，你的父母 再不能幫助你，而豐田車中的那個女人 也成為你看不到的世界的一部分。
此時，這粒砂又重新變回自己， 你站在一條山路上，痛哭著。 （馮默諶 譯）
The face in the Toyota
Suppose you see a face in a Toyota One day, and fall in love with that face, And it is Her, and the world rushes by Like dust blown down a Montana street.
And you fall upward into some deep hole, And you can't tell God from a grain of sand. And your life is changed, except that you now Overlook even more than you did before,
And these ignored things come to bury you, And you are crushed, and your parents Can't help anymore, and the woman in the Toyota Becomes a part of the world that you don't see,
And now the grain of sand becomes sand again, And you stand on some mountain road weeping.
一首詩是些記憶
早上；燈光亮著，房屋依然寂靜。 在我們入睡的整夜，記憶都在流動 涌上大腦的海岸。記憶起落 留下的是對死亡的一種精妙的敞開。
幾乎是一種對死亡的渴切。那渴切 就像峽谷地面上的雨水，只有飛沫。 大腦就像褐色的沙子，它不斷地 延伸，吸收這些雨水。
什么是詩？“哦，它是一些記憶，” 一個女人對我說。“幾千年前， 當(dāng)我站在一座墳?zāi)骨埃粋€女人遞給 我，一塊用紅赭石做成的小骨頭。 “它是一首關(guān)于天堂的詩，我哭了。” （馮默諶 譯）
A POEM IS SOME REMEMBERING
It’s morning; there’s lamplight, and the room is still. All night as we slept, memory flowed Onto the brain shore. Memories rise and fall And leave behind a delicate openness to death.
Almost a longing to die. That longing Is like rain on canyon ground, only droplets. And the brain is like brown sand, it stretches On and on, and it absorbs the rain.
What is a poem？ “Oh it is some remembering,” A woman said to me. “Thousands of years ago, When I stood by a grave, a woman handed Me a small bone made red with ochre. “It was a poem about heaven, and I wept so.”
十一月
有些憤怒包括對整個世界。 你會做什么呢？一名老水果切割員 渴望死亡，想象 復(fù)活節(jié)的釘子。
在他的冰島農(nóng)場，古托姆聽到了 這則消息：他的兩個兒子 死了。他把一些植被 覆在頭上。
有些橡葉懸著，有些也已飄落。 身體說，“死亡是正確的。 這并不是對世界的 侮辱。” （馮默諶 譯）
NOVEMBER
Some aggravations include the whole world. What can you do？ An old pulp-cutter Longs to die, imagines The Easter nails.
On his Icelandic farm, Guttorm hears The news： his two sons Dead. He pulls the covers Up over his head.
Some oak leaves hang, others fall. The body says, “It’s all right To die. It’s not an insult To the world.”
像我們這樣的人 給詹姆斯·賴特
有更多像我們這樣的人。世界各地 都有困惑的人，當(dāng)他們醒來時，他們不記得 他們的狗的名字，那些 喜愛上帝的人，已忘記上帝在哪里
當(dāng)他們?nèi)胨瘯r。這 還好。世界以這種方式清洗自己。 夜里，一個錯誤的電話號浮現(xiàn)在腦海， 你撥過去，電話鈴及時地響了
拯救了屋里的人。小偷 得到錯誤的地址， 二樓那里住著個失眠者， 他很孤獨，因此他們聊天，小偷 返回大學(xué)。甚至在研究生院，
你漫步而行，走錯教室， 聆聽那假教授深情地朗誦 偉大的詩篇 ，于是你找到了你的靈魂， 偉大自有守護(hù)，即使深處死亡，也很安全。 （馮默諶 譯）
People Like Us For James Wright
There are more like us. All over the world There are confused people, who can't remember The name of their dog when they wake up, and people Who love God but can't remember where
He was when they went to sleep. It's All right. The world cleanses itself this way. A wrong number occurs to you in the middle Of the night, you dial it, it rings just in time
To save the house. And the second-story man Gets the wrong address, where the insomniac lives, And he's lonely, and they talk, and the thief Goes back to college. Even in graduate school,
You can wander into the wrong classroom, And hear great poems lovingly spoken By the wrong professor. And you find your soul, And greatness has a defender, and even in death you're safe.
三節(jié)詩
一
哦，在一個清晨，我想我會永遠(yuǎn)活下去！ 我被我那快樂的肉體包裹 就如被裹在綠云中的草一般。
二
我從夢中起床 經(jīng)過城堡和熱炭的長久旅行， 太陽快樂地躺在我的膝上； 我經(jīng)歷了黑夜，并從黑夜中活了下來 就像浸泡在黑水中的一片草葉。
三
白蠟槭樹的猛葉 在風(fēng)里搖晃，呼喚我們消失在 宇宙的荒野 那里，我們將坐在一株植物的腳下 像塵埃永遠(yuǎn)地生活。 （馮默諶 譯）
Poems in Three Parts
1
Oh on an early morning I think I shall live forever！ I am wrapped in my joyful flesh As the grass is wrapped in its clouds of green.
2
Rising from a bed where I dreamt Of long rides past castles and hot coals The sun lies happily on my knees; I have suffered and survived the night Bathed in dark water like any blade of grass.
3
The strong leaves of the box-elder tree Plunging in the wind call us to disappear Into the wilds of the universe Where we shall sit at the foot of a plant And live forever like the dust.
久勞之后
伏案數(shù)周后，我又開始外出散步。 月亮不見，腳下是新翻的泥土，沒有星星；也無一絲光亮！ 假如有一匹馬從開闊的田野上向我奔來， 那我在孤獨中度過的每一天都沒有浪費。 （馮默諶 譯）
After Long Busyness
I start out for a walk at last after weeks at desk. Moon gone, plowing underfoot, no stars; not a trace of light！ Suppose a horse were galloping toward me in this open field？ Every day I did not spend in solitude was wasted.
潛鳥之鳴
從遙遠(yuǎn)的空蕩蕩的湖泊中央， 升起來的潛鳥之鳴。 那是擁有很少東西的人的哭喊。 （馮默諶 譯）
The Loon’s Cry
From far out in the centre of the naked lake The loon’s cry rose. It was the cry of someone who owned very little.
深夜開車去鎮(zhèn)上寄信
一個寒冷的雪夜。大街上空蕩蕩一片。 唯一移動的，只有那些飛旋的雪花。 當(dāng)我打開信箱門時，我感到它鐵皮的寒冷。 我有一個隱秘，我愛這雪夜。 當(dāng)我在周圍開車時，我將會浪費許多時光。 （馮默諶 譯）
Driving to Town Late to Mail a Letter
It is a cold and snowy night. The main street is deserted. The only things moving are swirls of snow. As I lift the mailbox door I feel its cold iron. There is a privacy I love in this snowy night. Driving around I will waste more time.
黃昏
漁夫們 砰的關(guān)上車門，然后 駛離了那片湖泊。 （馮默諶 譯）
Near Dark
The fishermen Slam their car doors, and drive Away from the lake.
冬天的詩
冬天的螞蟻抖動著翅膀 等待貧瘠之冬過去。 我用遲鈍的，笨拙的方式愛你， 幾乎沉默，只有一言兩語。
是什么讓我們隱秘地生活？ 一道傷口，風(fēng)，一個詞語，一個源頭。 有時我們用一種無助的方式等待， 笨拙地，并非全部、也無愈合。
當(dāng)我們掩藏起傷口，我們從一個人 退化成一個有殼的生命。 此刻我們感受到了螞蟻那堅硬的胸膛， 甲殼，以及沉默的舌頭。
這一定是螞蟻的方式 冬天螞蟻的方式，那些被傷害 還想繼續(xù)生活的方式： 呼吸，感受他人，還有等待。 （馮默諶 譯）
Winter Poem
The quivering wings of the winter ant wait for lean winter to end. I love you in slow, dim-witted ways, hardly speaking, one or two words only.
What caused us to live hidden？ A wound, the wind, a word, a parent. Sometimes we wait in a helpless way, awkwardly, not whole and not healed.
When we hid the wound, we fell back from a human to a shelled life. Now we feel the ant's hard chest, the carapace, the silent tongue.
The must be the way of the ant, the winter ant, the way of those who are wounded and want to live： to breathe, to sense another, and to wait.
一個月的幸福
一匹瞎馬在櫻桃樹間站著。 骨片們在冰冷的地面泛光。 心臟躍起 幾乎跳至天空！但是悲痛 和花絲又將我們拉回到黑暗中。 夜圍繞著我們。但 一只爪子 出現(xiàn)在黑暗里 為了照亮路面。我會好起來的。 我追尋著自己熾熱的痕跡穿過夜色。 （馮默諶 譯）
A Month Of Happiness
A blind horse stands among cherry trees. And bones shine from cool earth. The heart leaps Almost up to the sky！ But laments And filaments pull us back into the dark. Night takes us. But A paw Comes out of the dark To light the road. I'll be all right. I follow my own fiery traces through the night.
驚異于夜晚
附近有我們未知的灰塵， 波浪越過山崗在海岸邊拍打， 樹上落滿我們從未見過的鳥， 網(wǎng)被黑色的魚拖拉著。
夜晚降臨，我們抬頭看見，它在那里 它已經(jīng)通過星網(wǎng) 通過草叢的薄紗， 靜靜地走在水邊避難所的上空。
我們認(rèn)為：白天永遠(yuǎn)不會結(jié)束， 我們擁有的頭發(fā)似乎就是為白晝而生。 但最終，夜晚平靜的水面還會上漲， 我們的皮膚也將會看得更遠(yuǎn)，因為它在水下。 （馮默諶 譯）
Surprised by Evening
There is unknown dust that is near us Waves breaking on shores just over the hill Trees full of birds that we have never seen Nets drawn with dark fish.
The evening arrives; we look up and it is there It has come through the nets of the stars Through the tissues of the grass Walking quietly over the asylums of the waters.
The day shall never end we think： We have hair that seemed born for the daylight; But at last the quiet waters of the night will rise And our skin shall see far off as it does under water.
在地中海
一整天我都在狂熱地愛你，就像緊攥著的馬尾。 每當(dāng)我伸手觸碰你，我的愛就會滿溢。 我的手在你衣下的身上移動 一只動物粗糙燃燒的手或腳在葉片上移動。 暴雨退去，明亮的陽光 在離陸地一千英里的海面上滑行。 （馮默諶 譯）
At Mid ocean
All day I loved you in a fever holding on to the tail of the horse. I overflowed whenever I reached out to touch you. My hand moved over your body covered With its dress Burning rough an animal's hand or foot moving over leaves. The rainstorm retires clouds open sunlight sliding over ocean water a thousand miles from land.
殘月
下弦月把它的光撒在我父親的農(nóng)場， 現(xiàn)在它的一半暗著，掛在吞噬它的西天。 大地含著石塊，由它們在黎明前哼唱。 當(dāng)我轉(zhuǎn)身入屋時，我看到自己的影子投在門閂邊。 （馮默諶 譯）
Late Moon
The third-week moon reaches its light over my father’s farm, Half of it dark now, in the west that eats it away. The earth has rocks in it that hum at early dawn. As I turn to go in, I see my shadow reach for the latch.
一個下雪的下午
1
草地被雪半掩著。 在傍晚時，開始降雪， 現(xiàn)在草地上的小屋越來越暗。
2
如果我的手向下碰到地面 我就能抓住一把把黑暗！ 黑暗總是留在那里，我們從未留意過的地方。
3
隨著雪越下越大，玉米桿遠(yuǎn)遠(yuǎn)地消褪 而谷倉也漸漸地向房屋靠近。 谷倉帶去了不斷變大的暴風(fēng)雪中的 所有孤獨。
4
裝滿玉米的谷倉走向我們， 像海洋上一艘被風(fēng)暴吹襲的船那樣向我們駛來 而甲板上所有的水手已失明多年。 （馮默諶 譯）
Snowfall in the Afternoon
1
The grass is half-covered with snow. It was the sort of snowfall that starts in late afternoon And now the little houses of the grass are growing dark.
2
If I reached my hands down near the earth I could take handfuls of darkness! A darkness was always there which we never noticed.
3
As the snow grows heavier the cornstalks fade farther away And the barn moves nearer to the house. The barn moves all alone in the growing storm.
4
The barn is full of corn and moves toward us now Like a hulk blown toward us in a storm at sea; All the sailors on deck have been blind for many years.
乘火車經(jīng)過一片果園
蘋果樹下草長得很高。 樹皮粗糙，而且性感。 草茂密又零亂地生長。
我們無法像塊石頭 一樣承受災(zāi)難—— 它們在開闊的田野里， 赤身搖曳。
一次輕微的擦傷，我們就會死亡！ 這列火車上，我不認(rèn)識任何一個人。 一個男人走過通道。 我想告訴他： “我寬恕你，希望你 也寬恕我。” （馮默諶 譯）
Passing an Orchard by Train
Grass high under apple trees. The bark of the trees rough and sexual the grass growing heavy and uneven.
We cannot bear disaster like the rocks—— swaying nakedly in open fields.
One slight bruise and we die！ I know no one on this train. A man comes walking down the aisle. I want to tell him that I forgive him that I want him to forgive me.
昆蟲之頭
這些金黃色的昆蟲 披著如大帆船的外衣，在阿拉伯海上航行 它們的八角形之頭 也攜帶著來世的沙畫。 （馮默諶 譯）
Insect Heads
These insects golden And Arabic sailing in the husks of galleons Their octagonal heads also Hold sand paintings of the next life.
清點細(xì)小的尸骸
讓我們再來清點一下這些尸骸。
如果我們能讓尸骸縮小至， 如頭骨般大小， 月光下，我們就能讓滿是骷髏的平原變白！
如果我們能把尸骸縮小， 也許，我們就能夠在我們面前的書桌上 獵獲一整年的食物！
如果我們能將使尸骸縮小， 我們就能 給一具尸體戴上一枚戒指，作為永久的紀(jì)念。 （馮默諶 譯）
Counting Small-boned Bodies
Let's count the bodies over again.
If we could only make the bodies smaller The size of skulls We could make a whole plain white with skulls in the moonlight！
If we could only make the bodies smaller Maybe we could get A whole year's kill in front of us on a desk！
If we could only make the bodies smaller We could fit A body into a finger-ring for a keepsake forever.
月亮
寫了一天詩后， 我到松林里賞月。 在樹林深處，我倚靠一棵松樹而坐。 月亮把她的門廊面朝光亮， 而她的房屋深處卻漆黑一片。 （馮默諶 譯）
The Moon After writing poems all day, I go off to see the moon in the pines. Far in the woods I sit down against a pine. The moon has her porches turned to face the light, But the deep part of her house is in the darkness.
我生命里的一個暮春
寂靜盤旋在大地上： 草地如古鳥之翼 從熱氣中輕輕升起 一匹馬專心致志地注視著我。 （馮默諶 譯）
A Late Spring Day In My Life
A silence hovers over earth： The grass lifts lightly in the heat Like the ancient wing of a bird. A horse gazes steadily at me.
情詩
當(dāng)我們戀愛時，我們愛草地， 愛谷倉，愛燈桿， 還有那空蕩了一夜，小小的大街。 （馮默諶 譯）
Love Poem
When we are in love, we love the grass, And the barns, and the light poles, And the small main streets abandoned all night.
握著手
握著你愛人的手， 你會發(fā)現(xiàn)它們是精致的的鳥籠……. 小小的鳥兒在歌唱 在僻靜的大草原 在手的幽谷。 （馮默諶 譯）
Taking the Hands
Taking the hands of someone you love, You see they are delicate cages… Tiny birds are singing In the secluded prairies And in the deep valleys of the hand.
整個潮濕之夜
北歐海盜船駛進(jìn)盈滿的港灣。 在海上，水手們就思念著遠(yuǎn)方的妻子。 整個潮濕之夜，船燈亮著。 潮水落下，水中有微微的長笛聲。 （馮默諶 譯）
The Whole Moisty Night
The Viking ship sailing into the full harbor. The body meets its wife far out at sea. Its lamp remains lit the whole moisty night. Water pours down, faint flute notes in the sound of the water.
交談
整個早上，我獨自一人 坐在楓樹下，閱讀一本放在腿上的書， 你路過——那個我已經(jīng)愛了 十年的人——路過，然后遠(yuǎn)去。
那就是所有。當(dāng)我重回 閱讀之中，我再也無法專心閱讀。 我的欲望，玫瑰般的男子， 伸出它的觸手，翻轉(zhuǎn)書頁。
一定是某些詞有皮毛。 或者用沉默的事物交流思想。 或者，我可能再也不會 感到疲倦，憂傷，和孤獨。
我們知道這是真的：蜜蜂的腳 了解它的花藥和它低矮的灌木叢， 就像城堡中的女人知道 那個在樹林里迷路的騎手。 （馮默諶 譯）
Conversation
I sat beneath maples, reading, A book in my lap, alone all morning. You walked past-whom I have loved For ten years-walked by and were gone.
That was all. When I returned To reading, not all me returned. My sex, or rosy man, reached on its own and touched the book.
It must be some words have fur. Or mute things exchange thought. Or perhaps I am no longer weary, grieving, and alone.
We know it’s true： the bee’s foot knows its anther and its dwarves, as the castle of women knows of the rider lost outside in the trees.
烏龜
雨水漲了湖面，并清洗著蘆葦。 乳草的豆莢慢慢張開，黃色的睡蓮。 隔著濃霧，男女望著遠(yuǎn)處的堤岸。 烏龜的頭浮出水面。 （馮默諶 譯）
The Turtle
Rain lifts the lake level, washing the reeds. Slowly the milkweed pods open, the yellow lily pads. Through the mist man and woman see the far shore. The turtle’s head rises out over the water.
在一座懸崖上
閱讀大師之作， 我聽到一只蚱蜢用他的翅膀 發(fā)出干燥之聲， 并跳躍在風(fēng)中， 兩百英尺高的水面上！ （馮默諶 譯）
On a Cliff
Reading the Master, I heard a grasshopper making dry sounds with his wings, Leaping about in the wind, Two hundred feet above the water！
回歸孤獨
一
那是一個月夜，有風(fēng)。 月亮被推出銀河。 云兒沒有生氣，草兒在跳躍。 是時候歸去了。
二
我們想回去，回到大海， 大海孤獨的走廊， 狂烈之夜的大廳里， 悲傷爆發(fā)， 沉入死亡的大海， 如小熊座飛旋的星辰。
三
回去后，我們將會看到什么？ 朋友變了，房子搬了， 樹木，也許長出了新葉。 （馮默諶 譯）
選自《雪野上的寂靜》（1962年）
Return to Solitude
I
It is a moonlit, windy night. The moon has pushed out the Milky Way. Clouds are hardly alive, and the grass leaping. It is the hour of return.
II
We want to go back, to return to the sea, The sea of solitary corridors, And halls of wild nights, Explosions of grief, Diving into the sea of death, Like the stars of the wheeling Bear.
III
What shall we find when we return？ Friends changed, houses moved, Trees perhaps, with new leaves.
from Silence in the Snowy Fields (1962)
事物之需
你應(yīng)該讓一切事物 擁有它們自己的空間。 這間房屋狹小， 可是這綠色的長靠椅
卻喜歡呆在這兒。 大片沼澤的蘆葦， 擠出泥沼， 發(fā)現(xiàn)世界美好。
你應(yīng)該讓一切事物 遵循他們的本真。 誰又知道，我們中的哪一個 更值得擁有這個世界？ （馮默諶 譯）
What Things Want
You have to let things Occupy their own space. This room is small, But the green settee
Likes to be here. The big marsh reeds, Crowding out the slough, Find the world good.
You have to let things Be as they are. Who knows which of us Deserves the world more？
與靈魂交談
靈魂說：“給我些東西看看。” 于是我給了她一片農(nóng)場。她說， “它太大。因此我又給了她一塊田地。 我們倆坐下來。
“有時我會愛上一片湖泊 或者一顆松果。但我還是愛她 最多。她知道這。” “繼續(xù)寫作，”她說。
“所以我這么做了。每當(dāng)新雪飄落， 我們會再次結(jié)婚。 神圣的死者坐在我們的床上。 這種情形已持續(xù)多年。”
“這塊田地變得越來越小，”她說。 “難道你不知道還有 其他的人可以相愛嗎？” 你會和她說些什么？ （馮默諶 譯）
CONVERSATION WITH THE SOUL
The soul said, “Give me something to look at.” So I gave her a farm. She said, “It’s too large.” So I gave her a field. The two of us sat down.
Sometimes I would fall in love with a lake Or a pine cone. But I liked her Most. She knew it. “Keep writing,” she said.
So I did. Each time the new snow fell, We would be married again. The holy dead sat down by our bed. This went on for years.
“This field is getting too small,” she said. “Don’t you know anyone else To fall in love with？” What would you have said to Her？
思考事情
用你從未用過的方式思考。 如果電話響了，想象它是在傳遞某則消息 比你之前聽過的任何事情都重大， 比葉芝的一百行詩句更遼闊。
想象有人可能把一頭熊帶到你門口， 或許它受傷，精神紊亂；或想象一頭駝鹿 從湖面浮出，它的鹿角上馱著 一個你自己的從未見過的孩子。
當(dāng)有人敲門時，想象他會 給你帶來重大的消息：告訴你，你被原諒了， 或者不必一直工作，或者它 已被決定，如果你躺下，沒有人會死去。 （馮默諶 譯）
Things to Think.
Think in ways you’ve never thought before. If the phone rings, think of it as carrying a message Larger than anything you’ve ever heard, Vaster than a hundred lines of Yeats.
Think that someone may bring a bear to your door, Maybe wounded and deranged; or think that a moose Has risen out of the lake, and he’s carrying on his antlers A child of your own whom you’ve never seen.
When someone knocks on the door, think that he’s about To give you something large： tell you you’re forgiven, Or that it’s not necessary to work all the time, or that it’s Been decided that if you lie down no one will die.
當(dāng)我去世的父親給我打電話
昨天夜里，我夢到父親給我們打電話。 說他困于某處。我們花了 很長時間穿衣，我不知道為什么。 夜里大雪茫茫；還有長長的幽暗之路。
最后，我們到達(dá)了小鎮(zhèn)，貝林漢姆。 他站在那兒，站在寒風(fēng)中的一盞街燈旁， 街上吹著雪花。我注意到 他穿著一雙四十年代初產(chǎn)的
長短不一的鞋子。和工作服。他抽著煙。 為什么我們要花如此長時間才出發(fā)？也許 他曾經(jīng)把我們留在了某處，也許我只是 忘記了冬天他獨自一人在某個小鎮(zhèn)？ （馮默諶 譯）
WHEN MY DEAD FATHER CALLED
Last night I dreamt my father called to us. He was stuck somewhere. It took us A long time to dress, I don’t know why. The night was snowy; there were long black roads.
Finally, we reached the little town, Bellingham. There he stood, by a streetlamp in cold wind, Snow blowing along the sidewalk. I noticed The uneven sort of shoes that men wore
In the early Forties. And overalls. He was smoking. Why did it take us so long to get going？ Perhaps He left us somewhere once, or did I simply Forget he was alone in winter in some town？
三日的秋雨
長達(dá)三日的 十月之雨吹落 樹葉。我們知道 生命不會永存。
碼頭上閃爍著 橡樹葉，小舟中 落有冰涼的樹葉，葉片 在老人的草地上被發(fā)現(xiàn)。
哈代警告 我們。耶穌在他的船上， 站立著，背對我們， 正向對岸劃去。 （馮默諶 譯）
THREE-DAY FALL RAIN
The three-day October rain blows Leaves down. We knew That life wouldn’t last long.
The dock gleams With oak leaves, cold Leaves in the boat, leaves Spotted in the old man grass.
Hardy warned Us. Jesus in his boat, Standing, his back turned, Being rowed to the other shore.
和一位多年未見的圣女交談
多年之后，我走向你。 你說：“如此長的時間后，你還是來了？” 我不可能早來。我貧劣的嘴 帶著無窮的欲念，吞食了渴望的種子 它們早應(yīng)被種植。在窘迫，迷惑 和欺騙中，我睡著了。我夢到沙子。 你的眼里只有憂傷沒有微笑。 我說，“這么多年后，我還是來了。” （馮默諶 譯）
Conversation with a Holy Woman Not Seen for Many Years
After so many years, I come walking to you. You say：“you have come after so long？” I could not come earlier. My shabby mouth, With its cavernous thirst, ate the seeds of longing That should have been planted. Awkward and baffled, Dishonest, I slept. And I dreamt of sand. Your eyes in sorrow do not laugh. I say, “I have come after so many years.”
清晨時的隱士
清晨，隱士醒來，他聽到 冷杉的樹根在地板下攪動。 有人在那兒。埋藏于大地下的力量 帶來了夏天的世界。 當(dāng)一個男人愛上一個女人，他就會滋養(yǎng)她。 舞者把他們的腳步之光撒向草地。 當(dāng)一個女人愛上大地，她就會滋養(yǎng)它。 而大地滋養(yǎng)著我們所看不到的一切。 （馮默諶 譯）
The Hermit at Dawn
Early in the morning the hermit wakes, hearing The roots of the fir tree stir beneath his floor. Someone is there. That strength buried in earth carries up the summer world. When a man loves a woman, he nourishes her. Dancers strew the lawn with the light of their feet. When a woman loves the earth, she nourishes it. And earth nourishes what no one can see.
鰷魚的轉(zhuǎn)身
過去我每天只愛你幾分鐘。 現(xiàn)在，它化成裊裊云煙升起， 蘑菇被樺樹留住， 馬的前蹄，如鰷魚般攪動銀浪 當(dāng)他轉(zhuǎn)身時，連同他的世界。 （馮默諶 譯）
The Minnow Turning
Once I loved you only a few minutes a day. Now it is smoke rising, the mushroom left by The birch, And the horse’s forefoot, the way the minnow stirs silver As he turns, carrying his world with him.
兩條河流
在我們的體內(nèi)，有一條河流生來寒冷 渴望著把自己獻(xiàn)給光的海灣。 另一條河流更像密蘇里河 攜帶著泥土，世俗的歡愉，以及塵世。 （馮默諶 譯）
The Two Rivers
Inside us there is a river born in the good cold That longs to give itself to the Gulf of light. And there is another river more like the Missouri That carries earth, and earth joys, and the earthly.
三月的花蕾
它們躺在河床上，聽著音樂。 它們熏香了枕頭，湖泊，一個女子盈笑。 風(fēng)微微吹動，觸摸著三月的花蕾。 而那些小樹在來回搖曳。 （馮默諶 譯）
The March Buds
They lie on the bed, hearing music. They perfumed pillow, the lake, a woman’s laughter. Wind blows faintly, touches the March buds. The young trees sway back and forth.
和我走吧
我們一起走進(jìn)柳樹林，在樹林間。 瑪瑙貝有紅潤的嘴； 樹木上下?lián)u曳， 海螺返回黑暗的水域。
和我走吧，我們獨自離去， 遠(yuǎn)離建筑和高地。 我喜歡和你一起去， 去往那個沒有君王的山谷。 （馮默諶 譯）
Come with Me
We walk together in willows, among willows. The cowrie shell has its rosy mouth; The tree nods and rises; The conch returns to the dark waters.
Come with me, we will walk alone, away from the buildings and the high places. I love to go with you, And enter the valley where no one is king. |
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