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扬尼斯·里索斯（Yannis Ritsos，1909——1990) 现代希腊诗歌的创始人之一，生于莫涅瓦西亚，早年来到雅典读书，当过文书和演员，三十年代开始作品，1934年出版第一本诗集《拖拉机》。1936年，他为萨洛尼卡烟草工人罢工写成长诗《伊皮达菲奥斯》而一举成名，深得大诗人帕拉马斯的高度评价。二战期间，他投身于抵抗运动，二战结束后，他先后两度被囚禁、著作被禁，直到七十年代初才获释，作品才得以出版。 里索斯一生创作勤奋而多产，迄今已出版了诗歌及其他文学作品近百卷，成为二十世纪希腊最广为阅读的大诗人，不少诗作被谱曲广为传唱，产生了世界性影响。他获得过列宁和平奖(1977)等多种国际文学大奖，并多次成为诺贝尔文学奖候选人。里索斯的诗可以分为两大类：长篇叙事诗和短诗。他的诗作一般多长句，常以严谨、浓郁的白描手法反映现代希腊人的生活，又颇具现代派特征，其最独特之处在于诗中所采用的“戏剧性独白”(他自己曾当过演员），其白描技法蕴藏象征、暗喻、转换和超现实的场景性，折射出希腊以至整个人类的现实生活和精神状态，以及那些超乎于读者想象之外的、然而又确实存在于现实之中的某些人类思维活动和行为，貌似荒诞，实则另有弦外之音。法国超现实主义诗人路易·阿拉贡1971年公开发表《当今最伟大的诗人名叫扬尼斯·里索斯》一文来推崇其作品。 ♡ 小小的对话 天空在屋后荒凉地燃烧。 你为何哭泣？──他扣紧自己的皮带问。 世界是美丽的──她回道── 如此美丽，如此头痛；而这张床 是一头沉默的，正准备偷偷溜走的野兽。 （冯默谌 译） SMALL DIALOGUE The sky burned desolately behind the house. Why are you crying?─he asked, buckling his belt. The world is beautiful─she replied─ so beautiful and such a headache；and the bed is a silent, savage beast preparing to flee. ♡ 胜利者 他犹豫地打开他的黑屋 想要再听听，他的脚步在白天纯白的石路上 会发出什么声响。 所有人都在等他从太阳门走出。 他戴着一副光的金色假牙 努力用心记下几片绿叶 但他觉得自己的嘴看起来更空了 所以他既不说话，也不微笑。 其他人继续听他们的欢呼声。 他们从未注意到他依然保持沉默。 然后他弯下腰，捡起一块石头，去追赶 陪在他身边，最后一条忠实的狗。 人们在阳光下把他扛在肩上。 并高高地举过他们的头顶， 无人看到他在哭泣。 1941.7 雅典 （冯默谌 译） THE CONQUEROR He unlocked his dark room with hesitation to try out once more what sound his footsteps would make on the pure-white stone pavements of day. All were waiting for him to exit from the sun’s door. He put on a golden denture of light and tried to learn a few green leaves by heart but felt his mouth looked even more empty and so he neither spoke nor smiled. The others kept listening to their cheers. They never noticed that he remained silent. Then he stooped down, picked up a stone and chased the last faithful dog that had followed him. Men hoisted him on their shoulders in the sun. And thus, raised high above their heads, no one saw him weeping. Athens, July, 1941 ♡ 听到的和未听到的 一个突然的、意想不到的动作；他的手 抓住伤口，止血， 虽然我们没有听到枪声 也未看见子弹飞过。过了一会儿 他放下手，并微笑着， 但是他又慢慢地把手移到 那个相同的地方；他拿出钱包， 有礼貌地付了钱，出去了。 然后小咖啡杯裂开。 这次至少我们听得清。 （冯默谌 译） Audible and Inaudible An abrupt, unexpected movement; his hand clutched the wound to stop the blood, although we had not heard a shot nor a bullet flying. After a while he lowered his hand and smiled, but again he moved his palm slowly to the same spot; he took out his wallet, he paid the waiter politely and went out. Then the little coffee cup cracked. This at least we heard clearly. The Heard and the Unheard A sudden unexpected motion;the palm of his hand made a fist over his wound to stanch the blood even though we had not heard any gun-shot, nor the whizz of the bullet.A little later, he lowered his hand and he smiled to himself; but again slowly he placed the palm of his hand over the same spot;he took out his wallet, paid the boy politely and departed. And the coffee cup cracked of itself. That at least we heard very clearly. ♡ 适度 词语更像石头。你能建造 安静的房子，并配有白色的家具，白床， 只要有人住在那里，或者至少 有人站着，透过花园的栏杆往里看，此时 玻璃窗被燃成栗色，山上的 晚钟响起，过一会儿 松弛的铃绳便开始拍打墙壁。 1967.11—1968.1 （冯默谌 译） MODERATION Words are much like stones. You can build peaceful houses with white furniture, with white beds, provided only that somebody is found to inhabit them or at least to stand and look through the garden railings at the moment when the windowpanes are in inflamed maroon, and up on the hills the evening bells are ringing, and after a while the slack bell rope beats on the wall by itself. November, 1967-January, 1968 ♡ 院子 一座安静的院子，无声无息。病恹恹的树木，悲伤， 在时光中远去。霉味， 蜥蜴，枯井，滑轮。傍晚时， 瘸小子从那儿走出。在另一扇门， 路对面，那个单手男孩站着，远望。 他们都不问候。他们咬紧牙关。他们想要忘记 那天晚上，他俩一起埋葬的那只被杀的鸟，那时 他们中的一个还有腿，另一个手还在。 玫瑰花丛旁的草椅 暖暖的，被太阳照得，无人坐在那儿， 一切都毫无意义，悲伤，静止， 以致不道德行为，在一座很久以前的 城市，天真地嵌入未来。 1971年3—10月 （冯默谌 译） THE YARD A peaceful yard, silent. The sickly trees, sad, far away in time. The smell of mould, the lizard, the dry well, the pulleys. There the lame boy comes out in the evening. At the other door, across the way, the one-handed boy stands, looking afar. They do not greet each other. They clench their teeth. They want to forget the killed bird they had buried together one evening when the one still had his leg and the other hand, and the straw chair near the rosebush was warm with the sun, with nobody sitting there, and everything was pointless, sad, immobile, and therefore immoral, in a city of long ago, naively nailed to the future. March-October, 1971 ♡ 梦游者和他人 他整夜都无法入眠。他跟随 屋顶上梦游者的脚步。每一步 都在无穷地回响，在他的空虚中， 厚重，沉闷。他站在窗边，等待 万一他摔倒了，就抓住他。但如果他也在坠落中被拉下来? 墙上的一只鸟影？一颗星辰？他吗?他的手? 听到砰的一声，在石路上。黎明。 窗户打开。邻居们跑来。梦游者 正从防火梯上跑下 去看那个从窗口上掉下来的人。 （冯默谌 译） The Somnambulist and the Other He couldn't sleep all night. He followed the somnambulist's steps above him on the roof. Each step echoed without end in his own hollowness, thick and muffled. He stood at the window, waiting to catch him if he fell. But if he too was pulled down in his fall? A shadow of a bird on the wall ?A star? He? His hands? The thud was heard on the stone pavement. Dawn. The windows opened. The neighbours ran. The somnambulist was running down the fire escape to look at the one who had fallen from the window. ♡ 存在 高山，更高之云，相遇 在树林和神话中，陡峭的山坡上， 健康全能的理性在那里回响着 不用担忧强调，再往下， 在庄稼盛开的黄云里， 面对面的两排，雕像陷入静默， 完全地裸于死亡之上，乳头直立。 1971年3—10月 （冯默谌 译） PRESENCE Tall mountains, taller clouds, meeting among trees and myths, on precipitous slopes, there where the healthy omnipotent logos echoed without fear of emphasis, while further down, in the yellow clouds of blossoming crops, in two facing rows, the statues had fallen silent, stark naked above death, with nipples erect. March-October, 1971 ♡ 笑 他从公园的长椅上看云。 他扯下外套内衬， 拉开帽带， 裹好被拐来的婴儿 投在井里。他双脚分开站着， 撒尿，微笑，在你之前。 此刻，我是说微笑，说夜景， 月色。婴儿， 不，他没有被拐。无论是井，还是婴儿 都不存在。只有云。 1971.12.19 萨摩斯岛 （冯默谌 译） THE LAUGH He saw the clouds from the park bench. He tore out his coat lining, removed his hat band, wrapped the kidnapped infant and pitched it in the well. Standing with his feet apart, he pissed, smiling before you did. I’m speaking about this smile, about night’s spectacles about the moon’s spectacles. The infant, no, it wasn’t kidnapped. Nor did there exist a well or an infant. Only the clouds. Samos, December 19, 1971 ♡ 中午 下午三点；他们脱衣跳入海中； 冰冷的海水无法阻止他们嬉戏。极目远望，海滩闪烁着， 死寂，遗弃，荒凉。远处的房子紧闭。 世界蒸腾着微光。一辆马车 从街道的尽头，淡出视线。邮局的屋顶上 落着半旗。这次是谁远离了人世？ （冯默谌 译） Noon They undressed and jumped in the sea；three o’clock in the afternoon； the cool water did not at all prevent their touching. The beach gleamed as far as one could see, dead, deserted, barren. The distant houses shut. The world steamed gleaming.A horse cart was moving out of sight at the end of the street. On the roof of the post-office a flag hung at half mast. Who had died? ♡ 责任 在晨光中，一颗星闪烁着，如一个被点亮的钥匙孔 你把眼贴在上面——你往里看——你看到了一切 世界完全被照亮了，在锁着的门后 你需要打开它 （冯默谌 译） Duty One star gleams in the twilight like a lit keyhole you glue your eye on it – you look inside – you see everything The world is fully illuminated behind the locked door You need to open it ♡ 雕像 他在门口转动钥匙 进入房中，躺下。 突然，他想起自己遗忘了什么东西。 天色已晚，他无法返回。 所以，独自在夜里， 他把手放在钥匙上， 远离街道，远离他的门， 整个人，面对自己的命运， 像雕像一样，变成了大理石。 是的，雕像冷冷地笑着。 1953-1954 （冯默谌 译） THE STATUES He turned the key in the door to enter his house, to lie down. Suddenly he remembered that he’d forgotten something. It was late, he couldn’t go back. So, alone in the night, with his hand on the key, away from the street, away from his door, the whole man, facing his fate, turned into marble like the statues. Yes the statues smile indifferently. 1953-1954 ♡ 中午 一匹白马被柏树的蓝影一分为二。 有人提高嗓门大喊（是谁？） 我不知道──他大喊着──我不知道，生活像胃里的一个拳头，富有力量。 一个裸男齿间夹着金刀经过。 在公牛的角后，一场火，如蔷薇丛般，燃烧。 1958年，8—9月 （冯默谌 译） NOON A white horse dissected in two by the blue shadow of a cypress tree. Someone shouted further up. (Who was it?) I don’t know—he was shouting—I don’t know, life is powerful like a fist in the stomach. A naked man with a golden knife between his teeth passed by. Behind the horns of the bulls, a fire, like a rosebush, smoked. August—September, 1958 ♡ 缺乏意志力 像睡着了一样，他笔直地站在花园里，背倚一株树， （在他的内心里，他听到了远方阳光的轰鸣） 此刻，他正要用自己的一根手指去触摸宁静， 他们拿一根长长的橡皮管把他的全身淋湿。 他觉得他应该微笑，或是生气。但他没有。他再次闭上眼。 他们抓住他的腋窝和脚把他抬起。他们重重地把他投到井里。他 听到砰的一声，在水下，从上面落下来一块石头。 1972.10.4 雅典 （冯默谌 译） LACK OF WILL POWER Just as he was falling asleep, standing upright in the garden with his back against a tree, (within himself he could already hear the distant roar of the sunlight) at the moment he was about to touch serenity with one of his fingers, they drenched him through and through with a long rubber hose. He felt he should smile or become angry. But he couldn’t. He closed his eyes again. They picked him up by his armpits and his feet. They flung him into the well.And he heard the thump on the water below, and from above cast down a stone. Athens, October 4, 1972 ♡ 相同之夜 当他打开屋子里的灯，他立马就知道 这是他自己，在他自己的空间里，被隔绝 从夜的无穷和它的长枝中。他站在 镜子前确认自己。但是那些挂在他脖子上 脏线上的钥匙呢？ （冯默谌 译） The Same Night When he switched on the light in his room,he knew at once This was himself,in his own space,cut off from The infinity of the night and from its long branches.He stood Before the mirror to confirm himself.But what about these keys Hung from his neck on a dirty string? ♡ 黑舟 夜里，老人坐在门槛。孤零零地。 他手里拿着一个苹果。其他的人 离开了他们的生活，在星星的庇佑下。 你能和他们说些什么呢？夜就是夜。 我们也不知道接下来会发生什么。月亮 看起来有点调皮。 在海上不停地闪烁。然而， 在这光辉里，我们能清楚地看见 黑色双桨船载着黑色船夫，正慢慢驶近。 1988.5.4 雅典 （冯默谌 译） THE BLACK BOAT The old man sits on the doorsill. Evening. Alone. He holds an apple in his hand. Others left their lives under the auspices of stars. What can you say to them? Night is night. Nor do we know what is to follow. The moon seems a little playful, endlessly shimmering on the sea. Nevertheless, within this radiance can be clearly seen the black double-oared boat with its dark boatman drawing near. Athens, May 4, 1988 ♡ 困惑 商店关闭。面粉洒在路上。 避难所旁堆满沙袋。双手交叉， 他悲伤地坐在花园的门后。一群 燕子飞过，它们的影子掠过 他的脸。他弯下腰采花。 他做了一个花环。他会戴上它吗? （冯默谌 译） Perplexity Closed shops. Flour spilt upon the pavement. Sandbags heaped by the shelter. Hands folded, sad, he sits behind the garden's gate.A mob of swallows flies over, their shadows crossing his face. He bends over and gathers flowers. He makes a wreath. Will he put it on? ♡ 一种生活 死板，不妥协贯穿着他的整个人生。 最后，他越来越担忧这番固执， 明白它非一种美德，而是一种姿态， 是对他人，也是对自己的一种惩罚。 然后他躺下，在静默中，慵懒而僵硬， 像一行忏悔的句子。像一副长棺材 躺在两把普通的椅子上， 成为一道狭窄的桥梁，在他恐惧和怀疑之上的。 1956─1957 （冯默谌 译） A LIFE Rigid, uncompromising throughout his entire life. Towards the end he grew to fear this rigidity, seeing it not as a virtue but a pose, a punishing of others and, of course, himself. Then he lay down in silence, slack and rigid like a repentant line. A long coffin lying across two common chairs became a narrow bridge over his fears and suspicions. 1956─1957 ♡ 成就 我们所期待的，就像我们的生活 已经实现。我们的内心没有任何欲望、 回忆或恐惧的迹象。 两具空空的尸骸被抛在夜的岸边。 后来当你穿袜时，我仔细地查看了床。 它是一种非常古老的动物，以交媾的姿态变成大理石 用它的四只死脚步于虚空。 （冯默谌 译） Achievement What we had expected like the justification of our lives was achieved.No trace of desire,recall or terror remained in the center of our cells. Two hollow bodies cast on the shore of the night. Later as you were putting on your stockings—I looked closely at the bed. It was a very ancient animal into marble in the stance of coition Treading with his four dead feet into the void. ♡ 晨雨 他看到窗玻璃后的雨色—— 芦苇里光滑的黄，栏杆上的锈迹， 灰蒙蒙阴影中的绿。他把透明的 色彩保留到最后——玻璃 杯和窗玻璃。在浴室的镜中 他看到了三个裸体女孩。她们粉红的手臂, 在蒸汽后跳舞。其中一个弯下腰来 去捡一束花。她的头发遮住了 脸和一个乳房。她站起， 把头发往后甩了甩。五粒银滴 溅在镜子上。她手里没有拿着一束花。 （冯默谌 译） Morning Rain He saw the colours of rain behind the window panes - the smooth yellow in the reeds, the rust on the rail, the shadowed green in the ashen grey. He saved the colour of transparency till last - the glass of the water glass and the window pane. In the bathroom mirror he saw the three naked girls. Their arms, pink, danced behind the steam. One of them bent down to pick up a flower. Her hair covered her face and one breast. She raised herself up again, she shook her hair back. Five silver drops splashed on the mirror. She wasn't holding a flower. · ♡ 愤怒 他闭上眼，对着太阳。他把脚泡在海里。他第一次 注意到他手的表情。一种隐蔽的疲劳 宽如自由。代表们 来来去去，带着礼物和誓言， 有前途的头衔和丰厚的战利品。他心有疑虑地， 看一只螃蟹，摇摇晃晃地爬上一块鹅卵石， 慢慢地，可疑地，然而以一种官方的方式，像是上升的永恒。 他们不知道，他的愤怒只是个借口。 （冯默谌 译） The Wrath He shut his eye to the sun.He dipped his feet in the sea. He noticed the expression of his hands for the first time. A concealed fatigue wide as freedom. Representatives came and went bringing gifts and pledges, promising titles and rich spoils. He, unconvinced, looked at a crab staggering up a pebble slowly, suspiciously, and yet in an official way as if ascending eternity. They didn't know his wrath was only an excuse. ♡ 遗留 “我一无所有，什么也不记得”——他说。 一季又一季——淡淡的色彩， 有一股腐烂的水果味，在中午， 令人眼花缭乱的粉饰。一天夜里, 当你点燃一根火柴时，我瞥见了 那小小的阴影，藏在 你耳下的。只有它。余下的 都已被树下的风吹走 连同纸巾和藤叶。 （冯默谌 译） Leftovers I have nothing and I can remember nothing - he said. Season after season - faint colours, a smell of rotting fruit, at midday, and the whitewash dazzling. One night, when you lit a match, I had a glimpse of that tiny shadow that hid under your ear.This only. The rest is blown away already by the wind under the trees together with paper napkins and vine leaves. ♡ 离开 他消失在路的尽头。 月亮爬得很高。 一只鸟在树上啼叫。 一个普通的，简单的故事。 无人倾听。 在两盏路灯间 一块大血斑。 （冯默谌 译） Going Away He vanished at the end of the road. The moon was already high. A bird screeched in the trees. An ordinary, simple story. No one took heed. Between the two street lamps a big blood blotch. ♡ 惊奇 睡觉前，他把手表放到枕下。 然后入睡。风在外面吹着。你 知道这最细微动作的奇妙顺序， 你会明白。一个人，他的手表，风。仅此而已。 1958年，8—9月 萨摩斯岛 （冯默谌 译） WONDER Before going to bed, he placed his watch under his pillow. Then he went to sleep. The wind outside was blowing. You who know the wondrous succession of the slightest movements, you will understand. A man, his watch, the wind. Nothing more. Samos, August—September, 1958 ♡ 第三个人 他们三个人坐在窗边看海。 一个人谈海。一个人听。第三个 不说也不听；他潜在大海深处；他浮起。 在窗玻璃后，他的动作缓慢，清晰 在薄薄的淡蓝中。他正在搜寻一艘沉舟。 他为这个巡查者敲响了丧钟；细小的泡沫 升起，伴随一阵轻柔之声， “他淹死了吗？”一个人问；“他淹死了。”另一个回答。 第三个人从海底无助地望着他们，就像望着 淹死之人。 （冯默谌 译） The Third One The three of them sat before the window looking at the sea. One talked about the sea. The second listened. The third neither spoke nor listened； he was deep in the sea；he floated. Behind the window panes, his movements were slow, clear in the thin pale blue. He was exploring a sunken ship. He rang the dead bell for the watch； fine bubbles rose bursting with a soft sound - suddenly, 'Did he drown?' asked one； the other said: 'He drowned.' The third one looked at them helpless from the bottom of the sea, the way one looks at drowned people. ♡ 颂歌 他远远地站在街道的尽头 像一株光秃秃，落满灰尘的树 像一株被太阳烤焦的树 赞美不会被焚烧的太阳。 1938 - 1941 （冯默谌 译） DOXOLOGY He was standing at the far end of the street like a bare and dusty tree like a tree burned by the sun glorifying the sun that cannot be burned. 1938—1941 ♡ 不公正地 疲倦的面孔，疲倦的手。 一段厌烦的记忆。这 空虚的静默。夜。 孩子们都已长大。他们都已离开。 你不再等待一声回答。此外 你别无要求。不公平地， 这么多年来，你努力 露出一个满意的微笑 在这张纸面具上。闭上你的眼。 1988.1.16 雅典 （冯默谌 译） UNJUSTLY Weary faces, weary hands. A weary memory. And this vacuous silence. Evening. The children have grown. They’ve left. You no longer wait for an answer. And besides you have no requests. Unjustly, for so many years you strove to place an approving smile on this paper mask. Close your eyes. Athens, January 16, 1988 ♡ 城中之夏 在此地，光让我们绝望。无情的月份 不允许你成为两个。你还不够。 单调的叮当声，街道上的汽车拐弯， 在炎热的中午，大理石切割师切着石头。 在墙的上方，可以看到同样古老的纪念柱， 大理石花，大理石丝带， 一尊银行家的半身像， 一张被天使翅膀遮挡的孩子的脸。 在这些专业的雕塑上，雅典的太阳盖有它的印章， 它们的阴影难以置信地伸展── 因此昨天下午，一点也不奇怪 当你从办公室回家时 拎着一个购物袋，装有面包和西红柿 这没什么奇怪：昨天，当太阳落山时 在树林里，你遇见了那个大理石青年 他慢悠悠地走着，微笑着。 你坐在公园池塘边的长椅上，把你的面包投给金鱼， 整夜，你一点也不饿， 即使你没有吃饭。 1939年8月 雅典 （冯默谌 译） SUMMER IN THE CITY In this place the light makes us despair. This pitiless month will not allow you not to become two. You are not enough. The monotonous clang, the street cars turning round corners, the marble cutters hewing stones in the blazing noon. Above the wall can be seen the same old memorial columns, marble flowers, marble ribbons, the bust of a banker, the face of a child shadowed by an angel’s wing. On these professional sculptures the Attic sun stamps its seal, the shadows add their unbelievable extensions— and so it was not strange at all that yesterday afternoon as you were returning home from the office holding a shopping net of bread and tomatoes— it was not strange at all that yesterday as the sun was setting in the copse you met the marble youth strolling languidly as he smiled. You sat on a park bench, by the pond, casting your bread to the goldfish, and all that night, even though you had not eaten, you were not at all hungry. Athens, August, 1939 ♡ 惯性 女人和黑狗呆在卧室。 老男仆提着一盏灯经过走廊。 没有一丝风，窗帘轻移。 我们不再等待他们的归来。他们挂在 衣柜里的衣服变旧。夜里 我们听到邮差在门前停下。 他没按门铃。也未说话。第二天 在花园里，我们发现了他印有金邮戳的烟蒂。 1988.1.6 （冯默谌 译） INERTIA In the bedroom, the woman with the black dog. The old manservant passed by the corridor with a lantern. Without a stir of air, the curtain moved. We no longer waited for their return. Their clothes hanging in the wardrobes grew old. During the night we heard the messenger stop before the door. He didn’t ring the doorbell. He didn’t speak. The next day we found his gold stamped cigarette butts in the garden. Kálamos, January 6, 1988 ♡ 虔诚的专注时刻 他们在沙滩上筛沙，装上马车。 太阳很热，汗水滴落。中午过后， 他们脱衣，骑马，驶向海中， 金色，黑色来自烈日，来自他们的体毛。 一名年轻人大叫了一声，当他的手移向胯部时。其他人 跑向他，把他抱起，放在沙滩上 默默地看着他，茫然不解，直到有人 恭敬地移动他的手 他们围成一圈，在胸前画十字。 马，浑身湿透，金黄，吸气，它们的马嚼指向 遥远的地平线。 （冯默谌 译） Moment of Devout Concentration They were sifting sand on the beach, they loaded the horse carts. The sun was hot, sweat dripped. Past noon they undressed, mounted their horses and rode into the sea, gold and black from the burning sun and from their body hair. A young man uttered a cry as his palm moved to his crotch. The others ran towards him, lifted him up, laid him down on the sand looking at him dumb and uncomprehending, till someone respectfully moved his palm and they all crossed themselves, standing around him in a circle. The horses, soaking, golden, sniffed, their muzzles pointing far out towards the horizon. ♡ 拯救的方式 夜里；大风暴。那个孤独的女人听到 海浪爬上楼梯。她害怕 它们会爬到二楼，把灯熄灭， 把火柴浸湿，爬在床上。然后， 在海中的那盏灯像一个淹死者的头 只有一个黄色的想法。拯救了她。 她听到海浪退了回去。在桌子上, 她看到那盏灯——它的玻璃被盐弄浊了。 （冯默谌 译） Way of Salvation Nights; big storms. The lonely woman hears the waves climbing up the stairs. She's afraid they'll reach the second storey, they'll put the lamp out, they'll soak the matches, they'll make their way to the bed. Then, the lamp in the sea will be like the head of a drowned man with only one yellow thought. This saves her. She hears the waves retreat again. On the table, she sees the lamp - its glass a little clouded by the salt. ♡ 扶椅 这把扶椅曾是死者坐的地方。绿绒 闪闪发亮，在他手臂休息的地方。后来，当他被带走时， 苍蝇来了——一些安静的大苍蝇。它是冬天。 橘子丰收——他们把橘子扔到仓库的篱笆后; 天气阴沉——你不知天何时亮了。有天, 早上，装修工们用刷子敲门。 消瘦的仆人回答。他给了他们死者的领带 一条淡蓝色的，一条黄色的，一条黑色的。他们向他眨眼。 他们离开了。 扶椅搬到了地下室，上面放着老鼠夹。 （冯默谌 译） The Armchair This armchair was where the dead man sat. The green velvet Is shiny where his arm rested. After, when he was taken away, the flies came - some quiet enormous flies. It was winter. Big orange crop - they'd throw orange away behind the fences of storage yards; it was also cloudy -you couldn't tell when it dawned. One day, early in the morning, the decorators knocked on the door with their brushes. The thin servant answered. He gave them the dead man' ties - a pale blue one,a yellow one, a black one. They winked at him. They left. The armchair is in the basement, the mouse trap on it. ♡ 早晨 她打开百叶窗。她把床单挂在窗台。她看到了白昼。 一只鸟直视着她，用眼。“我是孤单的。”她低语道。 “我活着。”她进入房间。镜子也是一扇窗。 如果我从中跳出，我就会落入我的双臂。 （冯默谌 译） Morning She opened the shutters. She hung the sheets over the sill. She saw the day. A bird looked at her straight in the eyes. 'I am alone,’ she whispered. 'I am alive.’ She entered the room. The mirror too is a window. If I jump from it I will fall in my arms. ♡ 简单的含义 我把自己藏在简单事物之后，为了你能找到我， 如果你找不到，你就能找到那些东西， 你会触摸它们，我的手也曾触摸过， 我们的手迹将会混合在一起。 八月的月亮像厨房里的铁壶 （因为我同你的讲述，变得如此） 它点亮了空桌子和寂静正跪在房间—— 寂静总是跪着。 每个字都是一次离去 为了一个会面，被取消了多次 它是一个真实之词，当它坚信相逢时。 （冯默谌 译） The meaning of simplicity I hide myself behind simple objects so you may find me, if you do not find me ,you will find the objects, you will touch those objects my hand has touched the traces of our hands will mingle. The August moon gleams like a tin kitchen kettle (what I am telling you becomes like that), it lights the empty table and silence kneeling in the house silence is always kneeling. Every single word is an exodus for a meeting,canceled many times, it is a true word when it insists on the meeting. ♡ 着重色 山红。海绿。 天黄。地蓝。 在一只鸟和一片叶之间，死亡坐着。 1953—1964 （冯默谌 译） ACCENTED COLORS The mountain is red. The sea is green. The sky is yellow. The earth blue. Between a bird and a leaf sits death. Athens, Dhiminió, Karlóvasi Platanákia, St. Constantine, 1953—1964 ♡ 裸脸 切开柠檬让两股清汁落入杯中； 看那儿，桌子上，刀在鱼的旁边── 鱼是红的，刀是黑的。 他们的牙齿间或袖子上都插有一把刀，靴子和马裤上也插有。 这俩女人疯了，她们想要吃掉男人， 她们留着黑黑的大指甲，把未洗的头发 高高地梳起。如塔般高，五个男孩从那里 一个接一个地跳下。然后她们下楼， 从井里打水，洗身，伸开大腿， 插入松果，插入石头。而我们 点头，用一声“是”，又用一声“是”──我们低头 看一只蚂蚁，一只蝗虫，或看 松树毛毛虫在胜利女神像的翅膀上踱步。 缺乏神圣──有人说──是最后的，最糟糕的认知； 可即便这样的认知，现在依然被称为神圣。 1972.9.30 雅典 (冯默谌 译) NAKED FACE Cut the lemon and let two drops fall into glass； look there, the knives beside the fish on the table─ the fish are red, the knives are black. All with a knife between their teeth or up their sleeves, thrust in their boots or their breeches. The two women have gone crazy, they want to eat the men, they have large black fingernails, they comb their unwashed hair high up. High up like towers, from which the five boys plunge down one by one. Afterward they come down the stairs, draw water from the well, wash themselves, spread out their thighs, thrust in pine cones, thrust in stones. And we nod our heads with a “yes” and a “yes” ─we look down at an ant, a locust, or on the statue of Victory─ Pine tree caterpillars saunter on her wings. The lack of holiness─someone said─is the final, the worst kind of knowledge； it’s exactly such knowledge that now remains to be called holy. Athens, September 30, 1972 ♡ 时刻 一片精疲力竭的海域。灯光渐暗。 破酒吧排成一列，如在市立医院门前 等候的贫穷妇女。 突然间 酒吧被一个少年洁白的笑声照亮，灯光照到 最后几把椅子。而在那之后 浩瀚的大海震耳欲聋，所向披靡，不可分割。 （冯默谌 译） Moment An exhausted maritime district.The lamps are getting drowsy. Miserable beer saloons in a row like poverty-stricken women Who wait in front of the Municipal Hospital. Suddenly The beer saloons were illuminated up to the very last chairs by the pure white laughter of an adolescent.And directly after, The vast expanse of the sea was heard,invincible,undivided. ♡ 必要的感叹 你必须确定大致时间、灯光、颜色； 夜里，当马车载着木桶经过时， 车轮碾碎灰泥， 墙上的缝隙吱响。在窗玻璃后， 你能看到对面的白厨房，冰箱， 赤足的老人。然后，浴室的灯亮了。 他们拉上窗帘。女佣 把一碟苹果拿到阳台。 播放着留声机。你无法选择 在没有任何关系或对比的事物间， 直到听见尖叫声，刀子插入木桌， 刺进一张餐巾纸，餐巾纸上 印着两个完美的唇印。 （冯默谌 译） The Necessary Exclamation You must fix the approximate time ,the light, the colour; at night when the horse-cab passes loaded with barrels, on of its wheels crushes the pieces of plaster; the joints of the wall creak. Behind the window panes you can see opposite the white kitchen, the refrigerator, the bare feet of the old man. Then, the bathroom light goes on. They pull the curtain. The maid takes a bowl of apples out on the balcony. The gramophone is playing. You can't choose between things with no relationship or contrast, until the scream is heard and the knife is pushed into the wooden table stabbing a paper napkin with a perfect imprint of two painted lips. ♡ 溶解 有时，语言如树叶般，几乎是自己生成—— 看不见的根，泥土，阳光，水， 腐烂的叶子也有帮助。 意义很容易地附在叶上，像蜘蛛网， 或像尘埃和坠落的露珠闪烁着摇曳之光。 在树叶下，一个小女孩正在剥她的裸体娃娃； 一滴水滴在她的发丝；她抬起头；什么也没看到; 只有冰莹剔透的水珠在她的身上消失了。 （冯默谌 译） Dissolution Sometime words come almost by themselves, like leaves of trees - the invisible roots, the soil, the sun, the water have helped, old rotten leaves have also helped. Meanings can easily be attached like spider webs on leaves, or dust and drops of dew sparkling with wavering flashes. Under the leaves, a young girl is disembowelling her nude doll; a drop fall on her hair; she lifts her head; she sees nothing; only the cold transparency of the drop is dissolved over her body. ♡ 全景 一行行杏树， 一列列雕像, 积雪覆盖的高山， 坟墓, 猎人的射击，在橄榄林中—— 极致的美，极致的徒劳， 像姐妹一样，相矛盾 所有的生 和死相矛盾。 灵车载着 杏花经过。 雕像透过窗户 往外望。 （冯默谌 译） Panorama Rows of almond trees, rows of statues, high snow covered mountains, graves, hunters' shots in the olive grove - Fine beauty, fine futility, like sisters, contradicting one another, contradicting all the futility life, of death. The hearse pass loaded with almond blossoms. And the statues looked out through the windows. ♡ 另一个假日 一切都好。云在天上。 婴儿在摇篮里。窗户 在洗净的玻璃杯里。树在屋中。 女人的围裙在椅子上。 词在诗中。只有一片 十分亮晶晶的叶子露了出来， 钥匙穿过一串羽毛链。 （冯默谌 译） Another Holiday Everything was fine. The clouds in the sky. The baby in the cradle. The window in the washed water glass. The tree in the room. The woman's apron on the chair. The words in the poem. And only a very shiny leaf stood out, and the key through a feather chain. ♡ 有意识的 不，不——他又说了一次。不，不。 他把衣服翻过来， 他把杯子倒转， 他把水从中倒出，把死亡倒出， 他把鞋子穿在手上， 他把手套戴在脚上。 他们说，你是个骗子。他们生气。 三个女人在阳台上发笑。 他没有回答。他依然一动不动。 一只苍蝇落在他的脸颊。 三个女人在阳台上大笑。 她们年轻。她们发出沙沙声。那就是他想要的。 （冯默谌 译） Conscious No, no - he says again.No, no. He turns his clothes inside out, he turns his glass upside down, he turns the water inside out, he turns death inside out, he wears his shoes on his hands, he wears his gloves on his feet. 'You are a liar,' they tell him. They get angry. The three women laugh on the balcony. He does not answer.He remains motionless. A fly sit on his cheek. The three women laugh on the balcony. They are young. They rustle. That's what he wants. ♡ 敲门 盐，太阳，水一点点地侵蚀房屋。 白天，在曾是窗户和人的地方，现在只剩潮湿的石头 和一尊雕像，脸埋在土里。门，独自地, 在海上航行，僵硬，不习惯，笨拙。有时在黄昏 你看见它们在水上闪闪发光，平躺着，永远地关闭。渔民 不看他们。清晨，他们坐在家里的油灯前， 他们听到鱼从他们身体的裂缝中钻出， 他们听到大海用一千只手（未知的）敲打他们 然后他们回到床上，头发缠着贝壳睡着了。 突然，他们醒了，当他们听到敲门声。 （冯默谌 译） Knocking The salt, the sun, the water eat away the houses little by little. On day ,where the were windows and people, only wet stones remain and a statue, its face in the soil. The doors,alone, sail on the sea ,stiff, unused to it, awkward. Sometimes a sunset you see them shining on the water, flat, shut forever. Fishermen do not look at them. They sit at early dawn in their houses before oil lamps, they hear the fish slip inside their bodies' cracks, they hear the sea knocking at them with a thousand hands (all unknown) and then they go to their beds, they fall asleep with shells tangled in their hair. Suddenly they hear knocking on these doors and they wake up. ♡ 抽象的画家 一天下午，一名画家画了一列火车。 最后一节车厢从纸上脱落下来 并独自地返回车库。 而艺术家恰好坐在那节车厢里。 1959.6 （冯默谌 译） ABSTRACTED PAINTER A painter one afternoon drew a train. The last carriage cut away from the paper and returned to the carbarn all by itself. Precisely in that carriage sat the artist. June, 1959 ♡ 石头 日子来了，又去，不费力气，毫无惊喜。 石头浸润在阳光和记忆中。 一个人把石块当作枕头。 另一个在游泳前把石块放在自己的衣上， 以免它们被风吹走。还有一个把石头当作凳子 或者做记号，在他的田野间，在墓地中，在墙壁上，在森林里。 然后，太阳落山，当你回到家， 你把从沙滩上随意捡拾的鹅卵石放在桌上 它是一尊小雕像——一条奈基或阿耳忒弥斯的小狗， 这是名年轻人，在中午时，脚湿漉漉的，站在沙滩上， 那是位合着浓睫毛的普特洛克勒斯。 （冯默谌 译） 注：阿耳忒弥斯，古希腊神话中的狩猎女神。 普特洛克勒斯，古希腊战士。 Stones Days come, go, without effort, no surprises. The stones soak in the light and memory. One makes a stone a pillow. Another puts a stone on his clothes before swimming to keep them from being blown away by the wind. Another uses a stone as his stool or to mark something in his field, in the cemetery, in the wall, in the woods. Later, after sunset, when you return home, any pebble from the beach you place on your table is a statuette — a small Nike or Artemis’s dog, and this one, on which a young man stood with wet feet at noon, is a Patroklus with shady shut eyelashes. ♡ 在空虚中 水落在石上， 水声 冬天阳光下的， 一只孤独的鸟儿啼叫 在空旷的天空 再次找寻我们， 暗示 (“是”意味着什么?) 落下 从高处 停在公共汽车上 到处都是游客，几个世纪前死去的。 （冯默谌 译） In the Void Water falling on stone, the sound of water in the winter sun, cry of a lonely bird in the hollow sky searching for us again, implying (what 'yes' implying?) falling from high up on parked buses filled with tourist centuries dead. ♡ 嫌疑犯 他锁上门。他怀疑地回头看了看 然后把钥匙塞到兜里。就在此刻，他被捕了。 他被他们拷问了数月。直到有天晚上，他坦白 （而这被视为证据）钥匙和房子 是他自己的。但还是没有人能明白 他为何要把钥匙藏起。因此， 尽管他被判无罪，但他仍然被他们怀疑。 （冯默谌 译） The Suspect He locked the door. He looked suspiciously behind him and shoved the key in his pocket. It was just then he was arrested. They tortured him for months. Until, one evening, he confessed ( which was considered proof ) that the key and the house were his own. But no one understood Why he should try to hid the key. And so, despite his acquittal, he remained to them a suspect. ♡ 感觉的步骤 太阳沉没，粉红，橘黄。大海， 幽暗，蓝绿。远处，有条船—— 一个黑色摇晃的标志。有人 站起来喊：“一条船，一条船。” 咖啡馆里的其他人，离开座椅，察看。 “肯定有条船。”但刚刚那个叫喊的人， 现在仿佛有罪似的，在他们严厉的目光下， 低头窃语道：“我骗了你们。” （冯默谌 译） Gradations of Sensation The sun sank, pink，orange. The sea, dark,azure green. Far out, a boat - a black rocking mark. Someone stood up and shouted: 'A boat, a boat.' The others, at the coffee house, left their chairs, they looked. There was a boat for sure. But the one who had shouted, as if guilty now, under the stern looks of the others, looked down an said in a low voice: 'I lied to you.' ♡ 愧疚 他拿着帽子出去了。她 仍坐在靠台灯的桌子旁。当他的脚步 走远了，她看自己的手，在灯下。“很漂亮”， 她说。然后, 仿佛向某个人证明她自己， 她把面包拿到厨房，关了灯。 外面有来往的车辆和月亮。 （冯默谌 译） Guilt He took his cap and went out. She remained at the table next to the lamp. When his footsteps became distant, she looked at her hand in the light. 'It's beautiful,' she said. And then, as if justifying herself to someone there, she took the bread to the kitchen an turned the light off. Outside passed the carts and the moon. ♡ 回忆 房屋被烧。透过空窗， 天空。山谷深处 葡萄采摘者的声音，遥远的。后来 来了三个年轻人，拿着水罐， 他们用芥末清洗雕像。他们吃 无花果。他们解开腰带， 在干荆棘中挨个坐着， 他们又系上腰带，走了。 （冯默谌 译） Recollection The house was burned. Through the empty windows, the sky. Down in the valley the voices of the grape harvesters, remote. Later came the three young men with pitchers, they washed the statues with must. They ate the figs. They undid their belts, the sat next to one another among the dry thorns, they tied their belts again and left. ♡ 一棵树 这棵树远远地在花园的那边生长， 高大，修长而孤独──也许它的高度 泄露了侵入的秘密。它不开花， 也不结果，只有一道长长的影子将花园一分为二， 这种尺度，不适用于那些弯腰，硕果累累的树木。 每天傍晚，当壮丽的夕阳落山时， 一只奇特的，橘黄色的小鸟就悄悄地栖息在它的叶子里 像是它仅有的果实──一口小金钟 在绿色的，巨大的钟楼里。当这株树被砍倒时 这只小鸟在它的上面飞过，发出微弱的，狂怒的鸣叫， 在空中画圈，在落日的余晖中描绘 这棵树的无穷形状。这口小钟在高空中 无形地敲响，甚至高于原来树的高度。 1963年6月 萨摩斯岛 （冯默谌译） A TREE This tree had taken root in the far side of the garden, tall, slender, solitary—perhaps its height betrayed a secret idea of intrusion. It never produced either fruit or flower, only a long shadow that split the garden in two, and a measurement not applicable to the stooped, laden trees. Every evening, when the glorious sunset was fading, a strange, orange bird roosted silently in its foliage like its only fruit—a small golden bell in a green, enormous belfry. When the tree was cut down, this bird flew above it with small, savage cries, describing circles in the air, describing in the sunset the inexhaustible shape of the tree, and this small bell rang invisibly on high, and even higher than the tree’s original height. Samos, June, 1963 |
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