你再不能，再不能
这样，一只黑鞋
我在里面像一只脚生活
三十年，可怜苍白，
不敢呼吸或打嚏。
老爹，我早该杀了你。
还没得到时机你已死去——
重如大理石，满袋神灵
有灰脚趾的幽灵雕像
大如旧金山的海豹。
一颗头颅在奇特的大西洋上
将绿豆抛入碧蓝
在美丽的瑙塞河外海中
我曾祈祷治愈你。
唉，你。*
说德语，住波兰城。
被战争，战争，战争
的压路机碾平。
但这地名太寻常。
我的波兰朋友
说有一两打之多。
所以我不清楚你在何处
立足，扎根，
我从来无法和你说话。
我的舌头卡在颚上。
卡在铁网的陷阱中。
我，我，我，我， *
我难以念出。
我觉得每个德国人都是你，
这语言太污秽。
一架引擎，一架引擎
发落我像犹太人。
犹太人去达豪，奥许维茨，贝尔森。
我开始像犹太人一样讲话。
我想我也可以做犹太人。
提洛尔的雪，维也纳清啤
都不纯粹真实。
我吉普赛先辈和奇特命运，
我的塔罗牌，我的塔罗牌，
我也许有几分像犹太人。
我一直那么怕你，
你的空军，你的军腔。
和你整齐的络腮胡
你亮蓝的雅利安眼睛。
装甲兵，装甲兵，哦你——
不是上帝而是卐字，
漆黑到天空无法穿透。
女人都崇拜法西斯，
长靴踩在脸上，野兽
野蛮的心像你一样。
你站在黑板前，父亲，
在我留有的你的照片里，
裂隙在颔下而非脚上，
但不逊于魔鬼，也不逊于
那黑衣人，他
咬碎我美丽的红心。
我十岁时他们葬下你。
二十岁时我试着自杀
回到，回到，回到你身边。
我甚至渴望你的白骨。
但他们把我拖出袋子，
并用胶水粘合我。
我便知道了该做什么。
我为你塑了一尊像，
一个黑衣人脸像《我的奋斗》。
老虎凳和指夹的爱好者。
我说我招供，我招供。
于是父亲，我终于通过。
黑电话线连根崩断，
声音无法蠕动而过。
如果我杀了一个人，便杀了两个——
那吸血鬼说他就是你
吸我的血长达一年。
确切地说，已有七年。
父亲，你现在可以安息。
你的胖黑心算计精明
同乡从来不喜欢你。
他们踏着你起舞。
他们一直知道这是你。
老爹，老爹，你这混蛋，我已通过。
*注：原文为德语。
Daddy
You do not do, you do not do
Any more, black shoe
In which I have lived like a foot
For thirty years, poor and white,
Barely daring to breathe or Achoo.
Daddy, I have had to kill you.
You died before I had time—
Marble-heavy, a bag full of God,
Ghastly statue with one gray toe
Big as a Frisco seal
And a head in the freakish Atlantic
Where it pours bean green over blue
In the waters off beautiful Nauset.
I used to pray to recover you.
Ach, du.
In the German tongue, in the Polish town
Scraped flat by the roller
Of wars, wars, wars.
But the name of the town is common.
My Polack friend
Says there are a dozen or two.
So I never could tell where you
Put your foot, your root,
I never could talk to you.
The tongue stuck in my jaw.
It stuck in a barb wire snare.
Ich, ich, ich, ich,
I could hardly speak.
I thought every German was you.
And the language obscene
An engine, an engine
Chuffing me off like a Jew.
A Jew to Dachau, Auschwitz, Belsen.
I began to talk like a Jew.
I think I may well be a Jew.
The snows of the Tyrol, the clear beer of Vienna
Are not very pure or true.
With my gipsy ancestress and my weird luck
And my Taroc pack and my Taroc pack
I may be a bit of a Jew.
I have always been scared of you,
With your Luftwaffe, your gobbledygoo.
And your neat mustache
And your Aryan eye, bright blue.
Panzer-man, panzer-man, O You—
Not God but a swastika
So black no sky could squeak through.
Every woman adores a Fascist,
The boot in the face, the brute
Brute heart of a brute like you.
You stand at the blackboard, daddy,
In the picture I have of you,
A cleft in your chin instead of your foot
But no less a devil for that, no not
Any less the black man who
Bit my pretty red heart in two.
I was ten when they buried you.
At twenty I tried to die
And get back, back, back to you.
I thought even the bones would do.
But they pulled me out of the sack,
And they stuck me together with glue.
And then I knew what to do.
I made a model of you,
A man in black with a Meinkampf look
And a love of the rack and the screw.
And I said I do, I do.
So daddy, I’m finally through.
The black telephone’s off at the root,
The voices just can’t worm through.
If I’ve killed one man, I’ve killed two—
The vampire who said he was you
And drank my blood for a year,
Seven years, if you want to know.
Daddy, you can lie back now.
There’s a stake in your fat black heart
And the villagers never liked you.
They are dancing and stamping on you.
They always knew it was you.
Daddy, daddy, you bastard, I’m through. |
发表于 2017-2-11 02:06
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