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《慈悲》

已有 880 次阅读2014-3-7 12:37 |个人分类:造翼者24室诗歌全译

                         《慈悲》

   ——译自造翼者24室诗歌之第1室第2首《Compassion》

http://www.wingmakers.com/poetrychamber1.html

   

      

 

硝烟在天空弥漫战争在进行天使们在察看
天使们一定都被战争给弄糊涂了不知所向

 

交战的双方都在向天使祈祷快来保护他们
然而总有人会受到伤害有人在战争中死亡

 

有人死了有人哭得那么深失去了灵魂安宁
天使都被战争给弄糊涂了不知飞向哪一方

 

谁是无罪的天使们该把他们的怜悯投给谁?
他们对那急迫的呼叫纯真的痛苦一片迷惘


下界的一切呼叫和痛苦本来都对天使透明
但战争却让天使们心智迷乱如在星际迷航

 

昨夜我梦见了两个天使在旷野的上方交谈
他们孩童般纯洁的灵魂像银色烟雾在轻飏


俩天使在争论哪一方是正义的系被迫卷入
哪一方是邪恶的将流血和死亡拖进了战场
 

突然两个天使安静下来仿佛钟摆戛然而止
他们把怜悯抛向那从战场升起的灵魂身上

 

那双方带着战争烙印的灵魂如炊烟般升起
被战火洗礼过的灵魂都牵着了天使的臂膀

 

那些灵魂转过身来看着我我也看着着他们
他们眼里都闪着从上帝身边下来时的光芒


他们都是落自于上帝的碎片今又一起升起
升起后又合于一处像圣炉中的火焰般飞翔


我听见天使说哦原来灵魂并不被战争所毁
人类的纷争灵魂的分裂只是尘世中的假象


我听到天使们亲口说的这个断言如此清楚
就把它写下来尽管看起来像个伪造的印章


由此我知道了天使与人类的慈悲如此巨大
那慈悲之心像宇宙一般不能蠡测无限宽广

 

我想一定有一个缩微的慈悲如今正连着我
犹如一条细丝连接于一张展开的蜘蛛之网


现在当我想到战争就把这根细丝轻轻弹出
把它弹向整个宇宙期冀能粘着某人的脊梁 

 

应将天使和动物也织进慈悲之网的恩泽里
希望细丝粘着他人就像它现在粘着我一样





 

附:英文原诗

http://www.wingmakers.com/poetrychamber1.html

 

         Compassion

 

Angels must be confused by war.
Both sides praying for protection,
yet someone always gets hurt.
Someone dies.
Someone cries so deep
they lose their watery state.

 

Angels must be confused by war.
Who can they help?
Who can they clarify?
Whose mercy do they cast to the merciless?
No modest scream can be heard.
No stainless pain can be felt.
All is clear to angels
except in war.

 

When I awoke to this truth
it was from a dream I had last night.
I saw two angels conversing in a field
of children's spirits rising
like silver smoke.
The angels were fighting among themselves
about which side was right
and which was wrong.
Who started the conflict?

 

Suddenly, the angels stilled themselves
like a stalled pendulum,
and they shed their compassion
to the rising smoke
of souls who bore the watermark of war.
They turned to me with those eyes
from God's library,
and all the pieces fallen
were raised in unison,
coupled like the breath
of flames in a holy furnace.

 

Nothing in war comes to destruction,
but the illusion of separateness.
I heard this spoken so clearly I could only
write it down like a forged signature.
I remember the compassion,
mountainous, proportioned for the universe.
I think a tiny fleck still sticks to me
like gossamer threads
from a spider's web.

 

And now, when I think of war,
I flick these threads to the entire universe,
hoping they stick on others
as they did me.
Knitting angels and animals
to the filamental grace of compassion.
The reticulum of our skyward home.

 

 


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