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标题: Naomi Shihab Nye’s Poems 娜奥米.西哈伯.奈译诗选（初稿） [打印本页]

作者: 陈青山 时间: 2012-2-9 20:57
标题: Naomi Shihab Nye’s Poems 娜奥米.西哈伯.奈译诗选（初稿）
本帖最后由陈青山于 2012-2-9 21:18 编辑

Naomi Shihab Nye’s Poems 娜奥米.西哈伯.奈译诗选（初稿）

1952年5月12日,娜奥米.西哈伯.奈生于圣路易斯市,父亲是阿拉伯人,母亲是美国人。高中年代，她是在巴勒斯坦的马拉马以及度过的，那是耶路撒冷的一个古老城市。而美国得克萨斯州的圣安东尼奥市，那是娜奥米.西哈伯.奈后来从三一大学获得英语与世界宗教学学士学位的地方。

娜奥米.西哈伯.奈，是一位在诗歌上盛产，出版过许多诗集的诗人。如使她获得伊莎贝拉•加德纳诗歌奖《你和你的》以及《19种羚羊》、《中东的诗》、《中东藏选集》、《燃料》、《红色手提箱》和《抱着自动点唱机》。

娜奥米.西哈伯.奈，一直试图着通过她那些洋溢着人道主义精神的，有关中东以及和平的诗歌，表达和倾诉着她作为一个来自于阿拉伯世界的美国人的立场和声音。对于她的作品，诗人威廉.斯塔福德曾说过：“她的诗歌，集超绝的活力以及闪现着温和而又人道的顿悟为一体，她是深入人心，砥砺情怀作品里的一瓶香槟，读她的作品，让人对生活更有盼头。”

观察者

娜奥米.西哈伯.奈陈青山译

我观察其他事物是如何动的，

才会明白自己将怎么动。

一朵云儿悄悄掠过，

和其他云聚拢在一起。

一只幼狮蚁用力地卷曲到那儿，

一匹马漫步向前前喷着鼻息，

一只毛毛虫一寸一寸地爬过厨房的地板。

当我把它移到户外的一片树叶上，

我想象有人也正那样对我，

我是不是会尖叫？

在昼日的心脏，

什么都静止。

没一个人走向哪儿，

也没一个人正在归来。

桌子上的芳草，

有光穿梭而过，

偶尔闪闪晶亮，

但什么也不动。

我也观察这。

Observer

by Naomi Shihab Nye

I watch how other things travel

to get an idea how I might move.

A cloud sweeps by silently,

gathering other clouds.

A doodlebug curls in his effort to get there.

A horse snorts before stepping forward.

A caterpillar inches across the kitchen floor.

When I carry him outside on a leaf,

I imagine someone doing that to me.

Would I scream?

In the heart of the day

nothing moves.

No one is going anywhere

or coming back.

The blue grass on the table

lets light pass through.

Sometimes shines

but nothing moves.

I watch that too.

圣安东尼奥

娜奥米.西哈伯.奈陈青山译

今夜，我踟蹰于你的名儿，

那些元音巧妙的组合，

是我头脑深处的声音。

我到时，你正在酣睡，

我站在你床边

看着床单儿，轻轻翘起

我知道，光线的折射会让你翻过背来。

我觉得它好像是高速公路在我手上滑动一样。

我记得，咖啡店西侧的那些老家伙们

骨牌玩得像魔法一样。

稍后，我明白它像一个女人正回头向后望，

我离不开你哦，

也肯定找不到一个比我爱你更爱的人。、

San Antonio

by Naomi Shihab Nye

Tonight I lingered over your name,

the delicate assembly of vowels

a voice inside my head.

You were sleeping when I arrived.

I stood by your bed

and watched the sheets rise gently.

I knew what slant of light

would make you turn over.

It was then I felt

the highways slide out of my hands.

I remembered the old men

in the west side cafe,

dealing dominoes like magical charms.

It was then I knew,

like a woman looking backward,

I could not leave you,

or find anyone I loved more.

知道

娜奥米.西哈伯.奈陈青山译

鱼儿，知道那些河流

沉默，知道那些高谈阔论

知道在其他人出声前

它会接管地球

那些鸟儿，知道在围墙上熟睡的猫

它们在笼儿瞧着猫

脸颊知道眼泪,哪怕眼泪是那么的短暂

你的灵魂贴近胸膛

你的灵魂知道胸膛

大地知道那些鞋

比知道那些穿着的鞋更多

因为那些穿着的鞋只有地板才知道

那弯卷的旧相片只为携带它的人知道

不为照片里的人知道

我想为那些曳着步子的过客所知道

他们正笑着穿过那些街巷

那些在杂货铺排着队脏兮兮的小孩

知道那个回身向他们微笑的人

我多想像滑轮或者纽扣一样

为别人所知道

而那名声并不是因为做了什么了不起的事

仅仅只是因为不曾忘记自己的职责

Famous

by Naomi Shihab Nye

The river is famous to the fish.

The loud voice is famous to silence,

which knew it would inherit the earth

before anybody said so.

The cat sleeping on the fence is famous to the birds

watching him from the birdhouse.

The tear is famous, briefly, to the cheek.

The idea you carry close to your bosom

is famous to your bosom.

The boot is famous to the earth,

more famous than the dress shoe,

which is famous only to floors.

The bent photograph is famous to the one who carries it

and not at all famous to the one who is pictured.

I want to be famous to shuffling men

who smile while crossing streets,

sticky children in grocery lines,

famous as the one who smiled back.

I want to be famous in the way a pulley is famous,

or a buttonhole,

not because it did anything spectacular,

but because it never forgot what it could do.

血液

娜奥米.西哈伯.奈陈青山译

一个真正的阿拉伯人，知道怎样在自己的掌心中抓住一只苍蝇

父亲说。过去他也一直在证明这点

迅速地装进蜂鸣器

那会，正主儿正握着苍蝇拍紧盯着

春天，我们的手掌像蛇一样地脱皮

真正的阿拉伯人坚信：西瓜会以五十种方式自愈

我改变这些是为了适应那个场景

多少年前，一个女孩敲击着

只为了能看到一个真正的阿拉伯人

我说我们压根儿就没有

从那以后，我父亲才告诉我他是谁

“西哈伯”-“射杀星星”-

一个好名儿，从天空中借来

那时我说：“等我们死了，我们把它还回去？”

父亲说，那是一个真正的阿拉伯人应该说的

今天，那些头条新闻在我的血液上堵塞着

一个巴勒斯坦的小孩在首页里摇摆着玩具卡车

无家可归、一文不值，这样糟糕归宿的悲剧

我挥舞着骨头与种子的旗子

那缝满了蓝布条的盘碗垫

我打电话给我父亲，我们围绕着这新闻聊着

对他而言，要说的太多了

哪怕他拥有着两种语言，也不能说尽

我驱车进入那个国家，寻找绵羊、奶牛

我向上苍恳求

谁叫喊每一个人都得以读书

哪儿，哭泣的心得以安放

此时此刻，一个真正的阿拉伯人应做什么

作者: 陈青山 时间: 2012-2-9 21:04
Blood
by Naomi Shihab Nye

"A true Arab knows how to catch a fly in his hands,"
my father would say. And he'd prove it,
cupping the buzzer instantly

while the host with the swatter stared.
In the spring our palms peeled like snakes.
True Arabs believed watermelon could heal fifty ways.
I changed these to fit the occasion.

Years before, a girl knocked,
wanted to see the Arab.
I said we didn't have one.
After that, my father told me who he was,
"Shihab"—"shooting star"—
a good name, borrowed from the sky.
Once I said, "When we die, we give it back?"
He said that's what a true Arab would say.

Today the headlines clot in my blood.
A little Palestinian dangles a toy truck on the front page.
Homeless fig, this tragedy with a terrible root
is too big for us. What flag can we wave?
I wave the flag of stone and seed,
table mat stitched in blue.

I call my father, we talk around the news.
It is too much for him,
neither of his two languages can reach it.
I drive into the country to find sheep, cows,
to plead with the air:
Who calls anyone civilized?
Where can the crying heart graze?
What does a true Arab do now?

街道
娜奥米.西哈伯.奈陈青山译

当一个男人离开了这个世界
他活过的那些街道
就会缩短一些

这个城市，又多了一扇昏暗的窗户
他枝上的无花果
将为那些鸟儿成熟

如果，我们在许许多多的夜晚轻轻地站立
就会有一大群同伴陪着我们
一起默默地站着
头顶上，高亢的白头翁争抢着它们的树枝
那苍天在缝呢，缝呢，无休无止地缝着
掉在她紫色的裙角
万事万物悠悠，也然然
如果人们也这样想，那该多好

许多人也会这样想。他们睡得深沉
醒得明白。而其他人多生活在两个世界
失去的世界以及回忆的世界
他们入睡两次，一次是为了消逝的人
另一次为了自己。他们梦得深
也梦得重。他们从一个梦中醒来
又继续另一个梦，他们走在局促的街上
呼唤着名字，然后自己回答。

Streets
by Naomi Shihab Nye

A man leaves the world
and the streets he lived on,
grow a little shorter.

One more window dark
in this city, the figs on his branches
will soften for birds.

If we stand quietly enough evenings
there grows a whole company of us
standing quietly together.

overhead loud grackles are claiming their trees
and the sky which sews and sews, tirelessly sewing,
drops her purple hem.
Each thing in its time, in its place,
it would be nice to think the same about people.

Some people do. They sleep completely,
waking refreshed. Others live in two worlds,
the lost and remembered.
They sleep twice, once for the one who is gone,
once for themselves. They dream thickly,
dream double, they wake from a dream
into another one, they walk the short streets
calling out names, and then they answer.

燃料
娜奥米.西哈伯.奈陈青山译

即使在这样的年代，有时我也不得不探究
“接收”这个词。我收到他那饱含深意
和探寻的眼眸

一颗豆苗儿在酥雨中枝繁叶茂
告诉我你想些啥—我在倾听

这个故事摺叠着自己的二十片叶子

过去，我的老师把我搁在高高的凳子上
然后哈哈大笑。她想，同学们的眼睛一定都在比横着我
然而，他们说着其他
我想如果我们知道那是怎么回事我们也一定会哈哈大笑

我的眼睛紧紧地钉住窗外
天空那一抹红

那是我正去的地方

Fuel
by Naomi Shihab Nye

Even at this late, sometimes I have to look up
the word "receive." I received his deep
and interested gaze.

A bean plant flourishes under the rain of sweet words.
Tell what you think—I'm listening.

The story ruffled its twenty leaves.

Once my teacher set me on a high stool
for laughing. She thought the eyes
of my classmates would whittle me to size.
But they said otherwise.

We'd laugh too if we knew how.

I pinned my gaze out the window
on a ripe line of sky.

That's where I was going.

作者: 潘建设 时间: 2012-2-9 21:19
先支持一下，感觉不错，似乎有些细微处还需斟酌。

作者: 韩庆成 时间: 2012-2-10 01:13
欢迎青山先生带来译作！{:soso_e181:}

作者: 大海 时间: 2012-2-10 07:39

韩庆成发表于 2012-2-10 01:13
欢迎青山先生带来译作！

韩老师夜深还在工作，辛苦，保重身体。

作者: 陈青山 时间: 2012-2-10 09:24

潘建设发表于 2012-2-9 21:19
先支持一下，感觉不错，似乎有些细微处还需斟酌。

建设兄好，第一稿翻译肯定有遗漏。多提出来。问候

作者: 陈青山 时间: 2012-2-10 09:25

韩庆成发表于 2012-2-10 01:13
欢迎青山先生带来译作！

韩先生早上好。

作者: 陈青山 时间: 2012-2-10 09:26

大海发表于 2012-2-10 07:39
韩老师夜深还在工作，辛苦，保重身体。

问候。早好。

作者: 韩庆成 时间: 2012-2-10 22:42

大海发表于 2012-2-10 07:39
韩老师夜深还在工作，辛苦，保重身体。

昨晚到3点。多谢大海兄弟关心！

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