州界鸟
阿达·利蒙
自白:我不想在这儿住
那些黄花、野葱、毛蟹草也挽留不住
还有齐腰木桶里陈年的棕色玉米水
价值百万的赛马群
和捆扎紧实的干草包
甚至我们居住的老旧的烟草称重站
沉重的金属安全门
框出了砖砌的卧房
我仿佛被困在怪兽打着哈欠的嘴巴里
每个夜晚像空气一样无味
我不愿认为,这里是崭新的未来
但是,亲爱的,我要说:
有你存在的州,我才成为那里的州界鸟,
当这响亮的歌,唱到别人听不清的部分
就是他们疑惑的你已经去到的地方
STATE BIRD
Ada Limon
Confession:I did not want to live here,
not among the goldenrod,wild onions,
or the dropseed,not waist high in the barrel-
aged brown corn water,not with the million-
dollar racehorses,or the tightly wound
round hay bales.Not even in the old tobacco
weigh station we live in,with its heavy metal
safe doors that frame our bricked bedroom
like the mouth of a strange beast yawning
to suck us in,each night,like air.I denied it,
this new land.But,love,I’ll concede this:
whatever state you are,I’ll be that state’s bird,
the loud,obvious blur of song people point to
when they wonder where it is you’ve gone.
——选自《纽约客》2014年6月2日刊
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