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标题: 译普拉斯《榆树》 [打印本页]

作者: 落阡 时间: 2016-9-19 12:09
标题: 译普拉斯《榆树》
榆树
普拉斯
致露丝·芬莱特

我了解底部，她说，我用巨根得知：
那是你惧怕的东西。
我不怕它：我去过那里。

那是你从我身上听到的海，
是它的失望？
或寂静无声，是你的狂乱？

爱是一片阴影。
你怎样躺在它身后哭喊
听：它蹄声不息：走远，像一匹马。

我将彻夜这般奔驰，鲁莽冲动，
直到你的头化为石头，枕头变为一小片草，
回响，回响。

我该给你含毒的声音么？
此刻落雨，宏大的寂静。
这是它的成果：锡白，像砒霜。

我遭受过落日的暴行。
直到根部都被烧焦
我的红花丝燃烧屹立，满手线络。

此刻我裂成碎片如棍棒飞舞。
如此狂暴的风
不能容忍旁观：我必须尖叫。

月亮，同样冷酷：她会残忍地
拖曳我，使我贫瘠。
她的光刺伤我，可能我已捕获她。

我随她去。我让她
削弱平坦，像在基本手术之后。
你的噩梦怎样占有并赐予我。

我住在呼声的边缘。
每夜它飘荡而出
看，带着它的银钩，找可以爱的东西。

我被睡在我体内的
黑暗骇住；
整夜感到它软羽的转动，它的憎恨。

云飘过又消散。
这些是爱的面孔，苍白而不可追？
我的心是否就这样摇曳？

我不了解其他事。
这是什么，这面庞
在枝条的扼杀中低语？——

它蛇般酸涩的低语。
惊呆意志。这是孤绝，迟缓的瑕疵
杀戮，杀戮，杀戮。

Elm
For Ruth Fainlight

I know the bottom, she says. I know it with my great tap root:
It is what you fear.
I do not fear it: I have been there.

Is it the sea you hear in me,
Its dissatisfactions?
Or the voice of nothing, that was your madness?

Love is a shadow.
How you lie and cry after it
Listen: these are its hooves: it has gone off, like a horse.

All night I shall gallop thus, impetuously,
Till your head is a stone, your pillow a little turf,
Echoing, echoing.

Or shall I bring you the sound of poisons?
This is rain now, this big hush.
And this is the fruit of it: tin-white, like arsenic.

I have suffered the atrocity of sunsets.
Scorched to the root
My red filaments burn and stand, a hand of wires.

Now I break up in pieces that fly about like clubs.
A wind of such violence
Will tolerate no bystanding: I must shriek.

The moon, also, is merciless: she would drag me
Cruelly, being barren.
Her radiance scathes me. Or perhaps I have caught her.

I let her go. I let her go
Diminished and flat, as after radical surgery.
How your bad dreams possess and endow me.

I am inhabited by a cry.
Nightly it flaps out
Looking, with its hooks, for something to love.

I am terrified by this dark thing
That sleeps in me;
All day I feel its soft, feathery turnings, its malignity.

Clouds pass and disperse.
Are those the faces of love, those pale irretrievables?
Is it for such I agitate my heart?

I am incapable of more knowledge.
What is this, this face
So murderous in its strangle of branches? –

Its snaky acids hiss.
It petrifies the will. These are the isolate, slow faults
That kill, that kill, that kill.

作者: 王法 时间: 2016-9-19 19:14
学习辛苦。

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