星夜
那并不能遏制我对于——如果我可以说这个词——宗教的极度渴求。于是我在晚上出去画星星。
——文森特• 梵高致弟弟的信
这城镇不存在
除了在一株黑发树滑行而过
的地方,像灼烫天空里一个溺死的女人
这城镇寂静。夜晚沸腾着十一颗星。
哦,星夜,星夜!我就想
这样死去。
夜移动。繁星生机勃勃。
甚至月亮的橙色烙铁也鼓胀起来
像一个神,把孩子挤出眼中。
无人见过的老蛇吞咽星辰。
哦,星夜,星夜!我就想
这样死去。
闯入夜晚奔驰的野兽,
被那巨龙吸吮,从我的
生命剥离,没有旗帜,
没有腹部,
没有哭喊。
The Starry Night
That does not keep me from having a terrible need of—shall I say the word—religion. Then I go out at night to paint the stars.
Vincent Van Gogh in a letter to his brother
The town does not exist
except where one black-haired tree slips
up like a drowned woman into the hot sky.
The town is silent. The night boils with eleven stars.
Oh starry starry night! This is how
I want to die.
It moves. They are all alive.
Even the moon bulges in its orange irons
to push children, like a god, from its eye.
The old unseen serpent swallows up the stars.
Oh starry starry night! This is how
I want to die:
into that rushing beast of the night,
sucked up by that great dragon, to split
from my life with no flag,
no belly,
no cry. |