（美）露易丝·格丽克诗集《草场》三首

（MEADOWLANDS，1997）

 

 

别离

 

 

夜不黑；黑的是这世界。

和我再多呆一会儿。

 

你的双手在椅背上——

这一幕我将记住。

之前，轻轻拨弄着我的肩膀。

像一个人训练自己怎样躲避内心。

 

另一个房间里，女仆悄悄地

熄灭了我看书的灯。

 

房间和它的石灰墙壁——

我想知道，它还怎么保护你  

一旦你的漂泊开始？我想你的眼睛将寻找出

它的亮光，与月光对抗。

很明显，这么多年之后，你需要距离

将它的强烈化为平淡。

 

你的双手在椅背上，拨弄着

我的身体和木头，恰以同样的方式。

像一个想再次感受渴望的人，

他视渴望甚于一切别的情感。

 

海边，希腊农夫们的声音，

急于看到日出。

仿佛黎明将改变他们

从农夫变成英雄。

 

而那之前，你正抱着我，因为你就要离开——

这一切只是你的表现，

并非需要回答的疑问。

 

我怎么知道你爱我

除非我看到你为我悲伤？

P. 10-11

 

DEPARTURE

 

The night isn’t dark; the world is dark.
Stay with me a little longer.

 

Your hands on the back of the chair -
that’s what I’ll remember.
Before that, lightly stroking my shoulders.
Like a man training himself to avoid the heart.

 

In the other room, the maid discreetly
putting out the light i read by.

 

The room with its chalk walls-
how will it look to you I wonder
once your exile begins? I think your eyes will seek out
its light as opposed to the moon.
Apparently, after so many years, you need
distance to make plain its intensity.

 

Your hands on the chair, stroking
my body and the wood in exactly the same way.
Like a man who wants to feel longing again,
who prizes longing above all other emotion.

 

On the beach, voices of the Greek farmers,
impatient for sunrise.
As though dawn will change them
from farmers into heroes.

 

And before that, you are holding me because you are going away—
these are statements you are making,

not questions needing answers.

 

How can I know you love me
unless I see you grieve over me?

 

 

 

人质的寓言

 

 

希腊人正坐在海滩上

想着战争结束后干什么。没有一个

想回家，回到

那个贫瘠的小岛；每个人都想多一点儿

特洛伊的东西，多一点儿

边缘之处的生活，感觉每天

都塞满了惊奇。但怎么解释这些

给在家里的人听？对他们来说

投身战争是一个可信的

不在家的藉口，而

探测一个人离开正题的能力

并不是。好吧，这一点

以后再面对；他们

是擅长行动的男人，情愿把洞察力

留给女人和孩子。

在大太阳下反复思索着这些事情，为

前臂上一种新的力量而高兴，那儿

似乎比他们在家时更加金黄，有些人

开始有点儿想家，

想念妻子，想看看

这场战争让她们变老了没有。有些人

感到稍微不安：难道战争

只不过是一场男人版的化妆打扮？

一个游戏，意在逃避

深层的精神问题？唉，

但并非只是战争。世界已经开始

向他们呼唤，一场歌剧将以战争

喧哗的和弦开场，以赛壬们漂浮的咏叹调结束。

此刻，在那海滩上，讨论着各种各样的

回家时间表，没有一个相信

会花上十年才回到伊萨卡；

没有人预见到十年里无法解决的困境——噢，无法回答的

对人心的折磨：怎样才能

把世界的美划分成可以接受的

和不可以接受的爱！在特洛伊的海滩上，

希腊人怎么能知道

他们已经是人质：谁曾经

耽搁了旅程，谁就是

已经被迷惑；他们怎么会知道

在他们为数不多的人中间

有些将永远被追求快乐的梦想扣留，

有些被睡梦，有些被音乐扣留？

P. 14-15

 

PARABLE OF THE HOSTAGES

 

The Greeks are sitting on the beach

wondering what to do when the war ends. No one

wants to go home, back

to that bony island; everyone wants a little more

of what there is in Troy, more

life on the edge, that sense of every day as being

packed with surprises. But how to explain this

to the ones at home to whom

fighting a war is a plausible

excuse for absence, whereas

exploring one’s capacity for diversion

is not. Well, this can be faced

later; these

are men of action, ready to leave

insight to the women and children.

Thinking things over in the hot sun, pleased

by a new strength in their forearms, which seem

more golden than they did at home, some

begin to miss their families a little,

to miss their wives, to want to see

if the war has aged them. And a few grow

slightly uneasy: what if war

is just a male version of dressing up,

a game devised to avoid

profound spiritual questions? Ah,

but it wasn’t only the war. The world had begun

calling them, an opera beginning with the war’s

loud chords and ending with the floating aria of the sirens.

There on the beach, discussing the various

timetables for getting home, no one believed

it could take ten years to get back to Ithaca;

no one foresaw that decade of insoluble dilemmas—oh unanswerable

affliction of the human heart: how to divide

the world’s beauty into acceptable

and unacceptable loves! On the shores of Troy,

how could the Greeks know

they were hostages already: who once

delays the journey is

already enthralled; how could they know

that of their small number

some would be held forever by the dreams of pleasure,

some by sleep, some by music?

 

 

 

下雨的早晨

 

 

你不爱这个世界。

如果你爱这个世界，你就会

在诗中描绘它。

 

约翰爱这个世界。他有

一句名言：不作评判

才能免于被评判。不要

 

根据那个理论——

一个人不可能爱上

拒绝了解的东西

来争论这一点：拒绝

 

言语，并非

抑制感知。

 

看约翰，置身外面世界，

甚至在今天这样的糟糕日子

还在奔跑。你
保持干燥，像那只猫可悲的

猎捕死鸟的偏好：完全

 

符合你乏味的精神主题，

秋天，丧失，黑暗，等等。

 

关于痛苦，闭着眼睛

我们都会写。你应该向别人

多展示你自己；向他们表露你

对红肉的隐秘激情。

P. 16

 

RAIN MORNING

 

You don’t love the world.
If you love the world you’d have
images in your poems.

 

John loves the world. He has
a motto: judge not
lest ye be judged. Don’t

argue this point

on the theory it isn’t possible
to love what one refuses
to know: to refuse

speech is not
to suppress perception. 

 

Look at John, out in the world,
running even on a miserable day
like today. Your
staying drying is like the cat’s pathetic
preference for hunting dead birds: completely

consistent with your tame spiritual themes,
autumn, loss, darkness, etc.

 

We can all write about suffering
with our eyes closed. You should show people
more of yourself; show them your clandestine
passion for red meat.