我的父亲遵循爱的法则为人处事

E.E.卡明斯/作 韩晶宇/译

我的父亲遵循爱的法则为人处事，

顺应本性，轻财好施①，

每每从夜晚唱歌到天明，

我的父亲沿着情感的高峰为人处事。

这个被遗忘的未知时空静止不动

让他的目光投向熠熠生辉的此时此地；

那种随波逐流的人生（因此，犹豫神情

变得坚定）在他的注视下会摇摆不定。

就像墓穴里违背本性的生活者，

刚刚重获了新生，父亲春日般的触碰

唤醒了麻木的沉睡者把各自的命运创造，

让梦魇的人们回归灵魂的源泉。

而如果有人因一些疑虑而悲泣，

我父亲的抚慰就会使他入眠：

哪怕最小的声音也无疑将不再悲号，

因为他甚至能察觉到山脉的生长。

跨越人海中沮丧的深谷，

我的父亲从悲伤里深味到了喜悦；

他赞颂着前额一般的光明月亮；

他吟咏内心的欲望扬帆起航。

他的歌声是喜悦，这种喜悦这么纯真。

他一颗星星之心能够引导理想，

净化眼前人生并肯定人生的现在，

就像曙光的手腕会欢欣鼓舞。

强烈如仲夏的阳光普照，超越

太阳孕育的头脑可以忍受的范围，

这样坚定地（超越极限，他

这样巨大）矗立着我父亲的梦。

他名符其实的有血有肉；

饥饿者想要让他提供食物；

跛足者愿意慢慢爬坡一英里，

就为了看看他的微笑。

鄙视陈规陋俗和世事无常的浮华，

我的父亲遵循感情的法则为人处事；

他的愤怒跟及时雨一般恰当，

他的同情像谷物一般绿色自然。

一年中九月伸展的手臂给与

敌人和朋友的财富不乏谦恭，

他远超其上的赋予愚者和智者

充实的人生，不可估量。

傲然（凭借十月的火焰

招手）随着土地的意志埋入地下，

彻底赤裸的为了不朽功业，

他那一对肩膀顶着黑暗向前进。

 

他的悲伤像面包一样那么真实；

撒谎者都在他面前自惭形秽；

如果每位朋友都成为他的敌人，

他就一笑置之并自建孤寒②的雪世界。

 

我的父亲远离孤独广交天下，

他的歌声让每棵树都新生片片绿叶

（而且每个孩子都确信春神

在听到我父亲的歌唱时翩翩起舞。）

然后让自私自利的人们屠刀相待，

让血肉之躯变作一堆堆烂泥，

让想象力大搞诡计，让情欲放纵随意，

让自由成为一种买卖交易的毒品，

 

让施予被偷窃取代，仁慈屈服于残酷，

让一颗心生出恐惧，一副头脑产生疑惑，

让一个大同世界陷入混乱纷争，

树立起极端个人的自高自大。

 

即使我们糊涂不清地经历所有，

即使甜蜜之物全都变为苦涩，

狂想成空想，不知生死，

我们继承一切，留传一切。

 

再没有比真更有价值的东西，——

即使人们为了仇恨而呼吸，我也这样说。——

因为我的父亲曾让他的灵魂活起来，

爱是他的整个人生并凌驾一切。

1940年

（ 2009-09-24 猫蝶斋）

注释:

①  轻财好施：《梁书·鄱阳忠烈王恢传》：“ 恢性通恕，轻财好施，凡歷四州，所得俸禄随而散之。” 唐李白《上安州裴长史书》：“曩昔东游维扬，不逾一年，散金三十餘万，有落魄公子，悉皆济之。此则是白之轻财好施也。”《新唐书·朱泚传》：“轻财好施，凡战所得，必分麾下士，以动其心，阴储凶德。”

②    孤寒: 宋杨万里《东园探桃李》诗: “有花无叶也孤寒，有叶无花草一般。”此处指孤立,孤单。

译后语：今年阴历三月二十，病中父亲离乡奔赴昆明，又是一年奔波苦。为纪念他此次出行，婚后不久的我选定了这首卡明斯为车祸中辞世父亲所作的诗歌进行初译。近中秋的今日，几多凌晨苦思，几多伏案挠头,自叹学识尚浅薄之余，还是艰难地啃下这根硬骨头了。至于啃得好不好，心中忐忑不自信，硬着脸皮公之于众，作为向老父中秋节问候的近半年思念，日月可鉴。《我的父亲遵循爱的法则为人处事》这首排遣愁苦的佳作，诚然“穷苦之言易好也。”韩晶宇译之于猫蝶斋。

今日译诗随笔：坚持着每日译诗，养成一种习惯，这是我经常告诫自己鼓舞自我的心里话。我这样说了，也这样做了，只是执行的并没有那么彻底。虽然不好，但是几年下来，终究有了百十首的译诗，值得自己闲暇自娱一阵子。而整整几年来，唯独这首诗是我钟爱的，铭刻内心的，不仅因为我耗时最多，半年多，而且因为我动心思成稿《难难忘》，根由就跟这篇译后语所言紧密相关联。三年以来，我已自号猫蝶斋了。而爸爸身体虽然一直需要治疗，但总体还是稳定着，也让一家人安心。今天傍晚，爸爸和妹妹从广州购进玉货归来，看着太可思西服在身，有点潇洒的爸爸抱着他孙女嬉笑，死也难忘，我再次想起了这首诗。于是，作为对今天所见幸福场面的纪念，我在此再次郑重将《我的父亲遵循爱的法则为人处事》加入本博客的《难难忘》，这本无钱成书的网络书稿中，以示永久。

My Father Moved Through Dooms of Love

Edward Estlin Cummings (1894～1962) 

my father moved through dooms of love
through sames of am through haves of give,
singing each morning out of each night
my father moved through depths of height

this motionless forgetful where
turned at his glance to shining here;
that if(so timid air is firm)
under his eyes would stir and squirm

newly as from unburied which
floats the first who,his april touch
drove sleeping selves to swarm their fates
woke dreamers to their ghostly roots

and should some why completely weep
my father's fingers brought her sleep:
vainly no smallest voice might cry
for he could feel the mountains grow.

Lifting the valleys of the sea
my father moved through griefs of joy;
praising a forehead called the moon
singing desire into begin

joy was his song and joy so pure
a heart of star by him could steer
and pure so now and now so yes
the wrists of twilight would rejoice

keen as midsummer's keen beyond
conceiving mind of sun will stand,
so strictly(over utmost him
so hugely) stood my father's dream

his flesh was flesh his blood was blood:
no hungry man but wished him food;
no cripple wouldn't creep one mile
uphill to only see him smile.

Scorning the Pomp of must and shall
my father moved through dooms of feel;
his anger was as right as rain
his pity was as green as grain

septembering arms of year extend
yes humbly wealth to foe and friend
than he to foolish and to wise
offered immeasurable is

proudly and(by octobering flame
beckoned)as earth will downward climb,
so naked for immortal work
his shoulders marched against the dark

his sorrow was as true as bread:
no liar looked him in the head;
if every friend became his foe
he'd laugh and build a world with snow.

My father moved through theys of we,
singing each new leaf out of each tree
(and every child was sure that spring
danced when she heard my father sing)

then let men kill which cannot share,
let blood and flesh be mud and mire,
scheming imagine,passion willed,
freedom a drug that's bought and sold

giving to steal and cruel kind,
a heart to fear,to doubt a mind,
to differ a disease of same,
conform the pinnacle of am

though dull were all we taste as bright,
bitter all utterly things sweet,
maggoty minus and dumb death
all we inherit,all bequeath

and nothing quite so least as truth
--i say though hate were why men breathe--
because my Father lived his soul
love is the whole and more than all