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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。 ♡ 夜 她浇花。她听见水从阳台上滴下。 木板浸湿，腐烂。第二天 当阳台坍塌时，她仍留在空中， 平静，美丽。她怀里抱着 两大盆天竺葵和她的微笑。 （冯默谌 译） Evening She watered the flowers. She listened to the water dripping from the balcony. The planks get soaked and rot. Tomorrow, when the balcony collapses, she will remain up in the air, Calm, beautiful, holding in her arms the two big pot of her geraniums and her smile. ♡ 陶匠 一天，他做完了水罐、花盆和陶锅。还剩些 黏土。他捏了个女人。她的乳房 硕大又结实。他走神，很晚才回家。 他的妻子嘀咕，埋怨。他没理她。第二天 他留下了更多的黏土，第三天更多。 他不想回家。他的妻子离开了他。 他的眼睛燃烧。他裸着半身。他系着一条红腰带。 他整夜都和泥女人睡在一起。黎明时 你能听见他在车间的栅栏后唱歌。 他解开他的腰带。赤裸。完全地赤裸。 围在他身边的是 空水罐，空陶锅，空花盆 和那个美丽的，目盲的，又聋又哑，乳房被咬过的女人。 （冯默谌 译） The Potter On day he finished with the pitchers, the flower pots, the cooking pots. Some clay was left over. He made a woman. Her breasts were big and firm. His mind wandered .He returned home late. His wife grumbled. He didn't answer her. Next day he kept more clay and even more the following day. He wouldn't go back home. His wife left him. His eye burn.He' s half-naked. He wears a red waist-band. He lies all night with clay women. At dawn you can hear him sing behind the fence of the workshop. He took off his red waist-band too. Naked. Completely naked. And all around him the empty pitcher, the empty cooking pots, the empty flower pots and the beautiful, blind, deaf-and-dumb women with the bitten breasts. ♡ 必需品 他笨拙地缝外衣上的纽扣 用一枚粗针，一根粗线。 他自言自语道: 你吃面包了吗？你睡得好吗？ 你能说说话，伸伸手吗？ 你记得往窗外看吗？ 你微笑了吗，当你听到敲门声时？ 死亡总会到来。如果它第二个到来， 那第一个总是自由。 （冯默谌 译） The Essentials He sews the buttons on his coat awkwardly, with a thick needle, with thick thread. He talks to himself: Did you eat your bread? Did you sleep well? Were you able talk, to stretch your arm? Did you remember to look out of the window? Did you smile when you heard knocking on the door? If it's always Death - he comes second. Freedom always comes first. ♡ 也许，有一天 我想带你去看，那些在夜里的玫瑰云。 可你没有去。你说，夜里——又能看到什么呢？ 现在，我没有办法，除了用你的眼去看，他说， 所以我不孤单，你也不。真的， 在我所指的地方上，一片空白。 只有星星在夜里挤作一团，疲惫不堪， 如那些野餐后乘卡车回来的人们， 失望，饥饿，无人歌唱， 他们汗湿的手掌里握着枯萎的野花。 可我仍会去看，并继续展示给你，他说， 因为如果你没看到，就好像我也未曾看见—— 至少我会坚持不再用你的眼去看—— 也许有一天，我们会相遇，从另一个方向。 （冯默谌 译） Maybe, Someday I want to show you these rose clouds in the night. But you can't see.It's night—what can one see? Now, I have no choice but to see with your eyes,he said, so I'm not alone, so you're not alone.And really, there's nothing over there where I pointed. Only the stars crowded together in the night,tired, like those people coming back in a truck from a picnic, disappointed, hungry, nobody singing, with wilted wildflowers in their sweaty palms. But I'm going to insist on seeing and showing you，he said, because if you too don't see, it will be as if I hadn't I'll insist at least on not seeing with your eyes. and maybe someday, from a different direction,we'll meet. ♡ 可疑的睡眠 在上面，在天边，在山的上方一点， 一颗小星星发出它甜蜜的叫声， 声音富有节奏。又不和谐， 如一个卖菜的小贩，高声叫卖着夏天初熟的水果， ——用一种非常执着，近乎凄凉的声音。 你感到愧疚，因为缺乏渴望， 你无法回应。至少没见过， 未曾理解。内疚， 不追究他人的罪责。你一人承担了 所有的责任。然后你才明白 你完全是无辜的。你进入屋子，什么也未看到， 你穿好衣服，穿上鞋子，躺下 然后睡着。 （冯默谌 译） Suspicious Sleep Up there,at the edge of the sky,a little above the mountain, a tiny little star shrieked out its happiness, —in a voice both rhythmic and dissonant like that of the small vegetable dealer who shrieks out the first fruits of summer, —in a voice so persistent,almost to seem desolate. And you felt guilty for lacking the desire, that you could not respond.At least not to have seen, not to have understood.Guilty, not reckoning the guilt of others.Alone by yourself you have Loaded all responsibility on your shoulders.Then you understood your utter innocence.You went into the house not to see any more, and dressed as you were and with your shoes on,you lay down and went to sleep. ♡ 记忆 她大衣的腋窝里还残留着一股温暖的气息。 走廊里，挂在衣架上的大衣，如面被拉上的窗帘。 现在发生的一切都属于另一个时刻。光改变了面孔， 所有的未知。如果有人闯入屋中， 那件空大衣就会慢慢地，痛苦地抬起它的双臂， 并默默地，再次关上门。 （冯默谌 译） Memory A warm smell had remained in the armpits of her overcoat. The overcoat on the hanger in the corridor was like a drawn curtain. Whatever happened now was in another time. The light changed faces, all unknown. And if someone made to enter the house, that empty overcoat would raise its arms slowly, bitterly, to shut the door again, silently. ♡ 致命的胜利 独自在夜里，她悄然起身， 害怕自己的脚步。 她下楼到地下室里，查看那些声音 ──来自老鼠，蜘蛛，时光和她的头脑── 为了最后，她能小憩一会儿。 当她下去，风熄了灯 在她的两颊上，她感到了寂静的发丝吹起。 第二天早晨，他们发现她躺在楼梯下的一堆杂物里。她微笑着。 她什么也未证实。她胜利了。 1955-1956 （冯默谌 译） DEADLY VICTORY Alone at night, she rose noiselessly, fearing her own footsteps. She descended to the cellar to check on those noises —from rats, from a spider, from time, from her brain— so that at last she could get some sleep. As she descended, the wind blew out the lamp and on both her cheeks she felt the upraised hairs of silence. Next morning they found her in a heap under the stairs. She was smiling. She had not confirmed anything. She had conquered. 1955-1956 ♡ 再次 春天又来了——有许多女孩——跨在树肩; 所有的树木都跑向地平线，空气中弥漫着一种尚未消逝的 快乐。突然间，果实变紫，成熟，落下，在一个人凝视的水面 泛起涟漪。他再也看不到他的脸了。他抬起头。 蓝色的空虚。他什么也没看到。存在的一切。 （冯默谌 译） AGAIN Spring again is many―many girls― each astride the shoulders of trees; all the trees run to the horizon, and there is a force of unspent joy in the air. And all at once the fruits purple, ripen, and fall, rippling the water into which a single man gazes. He doesn’t see his face there any longer. Raises his head. Blue emptiness. He doesn’t see anything. Exists. ♡ 听 在巨大的喧闹中, 寂静的裂缝。我们清楚地听到 寂静的深度。时光膨胀。 老人拄杖过桥。 两个骑自行车的人，在山的地平线上。 大鸟出现。 （冯默谌 译） Hearing Amidst great clamor, Fissures of silence.We clearly hear the silent depth.Time expands. Old men with canes cross the bridge. Two cyclists on the hill’s horizon. Large birds appear. 1985 ♡ 病人的日子 整天，都有一股腐烂的，潮湿的地板味—— 在阳光下晒干，蒸发。鸟儿 从屋顶往下看了会儿，然后飞走。 夜里，在邻近的小客栈里，挖墓者坐着， 吃银鱼，喝酒，唱着 一首充满黑洞的歌—— 一阵微风从洞中吹来。 树叶、灯光颤动，他书架上的纸也随之颤动。 （冯默谌 译） The Day of a Sick Man All day, a smell of rotting, wet floor boards they dry and steam in the sun. The birds glance down momentarily from the roof tops and fly away. At night, in the neighbouring tavern ,sit the grave-diggers, they eat whitebait, they drink, they sing a song full of black holes - a breeze starts blowing out from the holes. and the leaves, the lights quiver, the paper lining his shelves quivers too. ♡ 火灾后 黎明时，寂静笼罩在冒烟的废墟中。 与火搏斗了一夜的人们 现在睡着了，疲惫而平静，在他们甜蜜的屈服中， 其他人带有一种模糊的，漫无目的的，胜利的微笑。 只有他醒着。事实上，他不愿入眠， 他不知道自己是胜利者，还是失败者， 也许只是模糊地猜测──也许 唯一的胜利者就是：他想要知道这个结果的决定。 1955─1956 （冯默谌 译） AFTER THE FIRE When it dawned, the silence was heavy amidst the smoking ruins. Those who had wrestled with the fire all night were now sleeping, weary and tranquil within their sweet submission, others with the smile of a vague and aimless triumph. Only he was awake. He was, in fact, avoiding sleep, without knowing if he was the victor or the defeated, guessing only vaguely that perhaps─perhaps the only victory was this: his decision to learn which. 1955─1956 ♡ 未表达的 这座城市灯火通明；在夜空下， 两盏明亮的红灯莫名其妙地在高处闪烁; 窗，桥，街道，出租车，公共汽车。 “我也有一辆自行车——”他说；“我做梦。”他说。 房间里的女人移动目光；她没说一个字; 她的衣服右侧未缝;如果她站着， 就能看到她的肩膀弯了。至于别的， “我不想谈——”他说;你保留它们，如碎水杯般； 你把它们拿下，当垃圾收集者经过时， 带有一种愧疚的渴望，清晨，美丽的水杯 裹在旧报纸里，总是担忧 你可能会把它们撞在楼梯的栏杆上，因为 它们依然发出一种深沉的声音，穿透——那坚实之声 仿佛与窗玻璃，风和墙壁合谋。 盲人音乐家疲倦地走上楼梯;他把小提琴 放在椅上;他打开它;在它 三个水杯中的两个，晶莹剔透，浑然一体。 （冯默谌 译） The Unexpressed The city all lit up under its evening sky; two bright red lights blink inexplicably high up; the windows, the bridge, the streets, the taxis, the buses. 'I too had a bicycle - he said; - 'I was dreaming' - he said. The woman in the room looked away; she didn't say a word; her dress was unstitched on the right side; if she stood one could see her shoulder was bent. As for the rest, one can' talk about them - he said; you keep them like broken water glasses; you take them down yourself, when the rubbish collector passes, with a guilty eagerness, early in the morning, the beautiful water glasses wrapped in old newspapers, always anxious you might knock them against the rails of the staircase, because they still ring with a deep sound, penetrating - that unbreakable sound as if conspiring with the window panes, with the wind, with the walls. The blind musician then goes up the stair exhausted; he puts down his violin case on the chair; he opens it; in it are two of the three water glasses, glittering, whole. ♡ 交替 太阳才不管你的任何犹豫── 赤裸裸地想要你，赤裸裸地占有你， 直到夜幕降临，为你穿衣。 太阳去后，只剩悔恨。 悔恨之后，太阳又再次升起。 1938.9 雅典 （冯默谌 译） SUCCESSION The sun does not consider any of your hesitations— naked it wants you and naked it takes you, until night comes to dress you. After the sun, there is repentance. After repentance, the sun again. Athens, September, 1938 ♡ 下午 下午满是掉落的灰泥，黑石，干荆棘。 下午有种难以描述的色彩，由半途留下的旧脚印， 院子里埋着的旧罐而成，疲倦和青草在它们的上面。 两个死人，五个死人，十二个——难以计数，数不胜数。 每小时都有人离去。窗口后 站着那些消失的人，还有他们未喝水的水罐。 而那颗坠落在夜色边缘的星， 如一只被割去的耳朵，听不到蟋蟀唧唧， 听不到我们的借口——听不到 我们的歌——独自，独自， 独自，与众隔绝，对一切谴责或辩解漠不关心。 （冯默谌 译） Afternoon The afternoon is all fallen plaster, black stones, dried thorns. The afternoon has a difficult color made of old footsteps left halfway, made of old buried jugs in the yard, and on them tiredness and grass. Two dead men, five dead men, twelve - how many, how many. Each hour has its dead. Behind the windows stand those missing and the pitcher with the water they didn't drink. And that star that fell at the edge of the night is like the cut off ear that doesn't hear the crickets that doesn't hear our excuses - doesn't deign to hear our songs - alone, alone, alone, cut off, indifferent to condemnation or justification. 1946-1947 ♡ 轻率地 在古墙后， 穿过碉堡, 穿过石洞， 死者 用野性的，睁大的眼睛 观察 那个年轻猎人 在一根折了的石柱上撒尿。 所以，如果生者是谎言 那么死亡也是谎言。 （冯默谌 译） Indiscreetly Behind the ancient wall, through the bunkers, through the holes from dislodged stones, the dead with wild, dilated eyes observed the young hunter who pissed On a broken capital of a column. So, then, if life lies death too lies. ♡ 不可避免地 在后街，在另一边，在消防通道， 那儿有破花盆，破水瓶， 那儿有死狗，蠕虫，绿苍蝇， 铁匠那儿小便，屠夫、车工也在—— 孩子们害怕夜晚；无数的星星大叫， 它们从很远的地方叫着，好像每个人都离开了；—— 别再和我讲那些雕像——他说——我无法忍受，我告诉你; 别再致歉;——走进那间巨大的地下室里， 纤瘦的女人用她的长臂从锅炉里掏烟灰， 她们涂她们的眼睛，牙齿，厨房门，玻璃瓶， 或至少让她们无法被认出， 走廊里的镜子，枯瘦的，向她们走来 当她们悄悄地走进或走出、靠着墙， 探照灯在黄色的草地中瞄准了她们。 （冯默谌 译） Inevitable In the back street ,on the other side, where the fire-escapes are, where there are broken flower pots, broken carafes, where there are dead dogs, worms, green flies, where the ironmongers piss, the butchers, the turners - children are scared a night; the stars shout too much, they call from very far off as if everyone were away; - don' talk to me again about the statues - he said; I can't stand it, I tell you; no more excuses; - down in the big cellar, lean women with long arms collect the soot from the boilers, they paint their eyes, their teeth, the kitchen door, the carafe, thinking they become invisible, or at least unrecognizable, while the mirror in the corridor, skeletal, advances upon them when they come in or go out secretly, close to the wall, and the searchlights aim at them in the middle of the yellow grass. ♡ 时光之歌 在酒壶边 在果篓旁 我们忘了歌唱。 在我们分别的夜晚 在夜星的许可下 我们欢唱。 1938—1941 （冯默谌 译） HOUR OF SONG Beside the jug of wine beside the baskets of fruit we forgot to sing. On the evening of our separation under the approbation of the evening star we sang by ourselves. 1938—1941 ♡ 便利 无事可做。他接受。天气美好， 巨大，明亮，岛影。他爬上 五楼。观察一个水杯， 透明精致。他知道， 下头，在尘土飞扬的人行道上，散落着一粒粒 黑色的西瓜籽，在阳光下晒干。 一个女人透过街对面的百叶窗窥伺。 在她身旁放着小移动镜。 她的手，一只是金色的，一只是红色的。 （冯默谌 译） Conveniences There was nothing more to do. He accepts. The day is beautiful, big ,bright, with island of shadows. He goes up to the fifth floor. He observes a water glass, fine and decisive in its transparency. He knows - down, on the dusty sidewalk, are spilled the black water-melon seeds, drying in the sun. A woman is peeping through the shutters across the street. Around her play small mobile mirrors. One of her hand is gold, the other red. ♡ 热 岩石，酷热的中午，巨浪—— 大海冷漠，危险，健壮。在上街， 骡夫们叫喊，他们的车上载满西瓜。 然后，一把刀，柔软的裂缝，风， 红果肉和黑籽。 （冯默谌 译） Heat The rocks, the flaming noon, the big waves - the sea indifferent, dangerous, strong. On the upper street, the muleteers shout, their carts full of water-melons. Then, a knife, the soft slit, the wind, the red flesh and the black seeds. ♡ 理发店 他们在废墟上修了间小屋 用砖块和窗户上的纸板；他们贴了个牌子; 上面写着“理发店”。后来，在星期六，黄昏时， 在面朝大海，半掩着门的微光里， 镜子浅蓝——年轻渔夫和 船夫来刮胡子。然后， 当天色快黑时，他们从另一扇门出去， 安静的，幽暗的，留下虔诚的胡须。 （冯默谌 译） Barbershop They fixed up a small room among the ruins with bricks and cardboard in the windows; they also put up a sign; it read 'Barbershop'. Late,on Saturdays, around dusk, in the dim light from the half open door, facing the sea, the mirror pale blue - the young fishermen and the boatmen come to shave. Then, when it is quite dark ,they go out the other door, Quiet, shadowy, with long reverent beards. ♡ 午夜 一个恢宏的星夜露出它的赤爪， 外地人的脚步窃去你的睡眠， 爬在天花板上，把房间 切成两半的阴影，是什么？ 脚步声，摩托声，扳机声—— 提灯透过玻璃窗， 蟑螂在士兵的鞋子和头盔里。 月亮的怜悯现在有何意义？ 有的人藏在夜的枝干里， 有的人进入棺材，旅行， 有的人拿走收银员的钥匙，交出土地， 而这条忘记了我们的狗，又对着月亮吠叫， 惊醒远处瞭望塔上的哨兵， 第一声爆炸炸毁了桥， 然后门咯吱作响，角落里站着一队士兵， 街灯朝下，当五条路都被刺刀封锁时， 火车的呼啸声传入耳际。 1941.10 雅典 （冯默谌 译） Midnight A great starry night showing its bare claws, foreign footsteps stealing your sleep, what is this shadow climbing on the ceiling cutting the room in half? Footsteps, a motorcycle, the trigger's sound - the lantern through the windowpanes, the cockroaches in the soldiers' shoes and helmets. What's the use of the moon's compassion now? Some have hidden in the trunks of the night, some have entered the coffins and travel, some have taken the cashier's keys and surrendered their earth, and this dog that forgot us barks again at the moon, awakens the sentries at the distant watchtowers, the first explosion blows up the bridge, then the doors creak, at the corner stands the squadron, the street lamps fall face down and the train's whistling is heard when all five roads are closed by the bayonets. Athens, October 1941 ♡ 诗人职业 在走廊里，伞，雨靴，镜子; 在镜中，窗户稍稍安静了点; 在窗户里，街对面的医院大门。在那儿, 一群长长的不耐烦的、熟悉的献血者 第一批献血者已挽起衣袖 当里面的，五位伤员死去时。 （冯默谌 译） The Poet's Profession In the corridor, the umbrellas, the galoshes, the mirror; in the mirror, the window a little quieter; in the window, the gate of the hospital across the street. There, a long queue of impatient, familiar blood-donors - the first ones have already pulled up their sleeves while in the inner rooms the five casualties are dead. ♡ 吹 窗户对面，一片大向日葵。 在泥路上，尘土从经过的马匹身上落下。 她依然站在那里等着。伤心地。 映照在她脸上的光可能 来自对面的向日葵。突然 她扬起双臂，她追赶风， 她抓住骑手的草帽，紧紧地抱在胸前， 她进入屋中，关上了窗。 （冯默谌 译） Blowing Opposite the window, the big sunflowers. On the dirt road, dust from the passing horse. She stands there still waiting. Sad. The light reflecting on her face may be from the sunflowers opposite. And suddenly she flings up her arms ,she chases the wind, she grabs the rider's straw hat, clutches it to her breast, she goes in and shuts the window. ♡ 几乎 他手里拿着些不匹配的东西——一块石头， 一块破瓦片，两根烧过的火柴， 对面墙上生锈的钉子， 从窗外飘进的树叶，给花盆 浇水掉落的水滴，还有稻草 昨天风吹在你头发上的——他带着它们， 他在他的后院里，几乎种了一棵树。 诗歌就在“几乎”中。你看到了吗? （冯默谌 译） Approximately He picks up in his hands things that don't match - a stone, a broken roof-tile, two burned matches, the rusty nail from the wall opposite, the leaf that came in through the window, the drops dropping from the watered flower pots, that bit of straw the wind blew in you hair yesterday - he takes them and he builds, in his backyard, approximately a tree. Poetry is in this 'approximately'. Can you see it? ♡ 受伤还是死亡? 他们从后门偷偷地把担架抬出。我们 透过百叶窗的缝隙往里看。其中一个回去了—— 他一定是忘了什么——也许是他的梳子。在街上， 床单显得更洁白。灯还未开。 我想知道他们是否有时间——他说。 抽烟的那个人把香烟灭了： 我——他说——他们为何要把他藏起?一个女人在他身旁弯着腰， 她的大腿向上露出。从对面， 走来一条大狗，用牙齿咬着面具 和躺在担架上的人的脸一模一样。 突然，五盏强力灯亮了。下头，一动不动， 五个戴新黑帽的告密者。我们 迅速离开百叶窗的板条。房间里到处是 线条和条纹——在无形错误的划线下， 桌子上，放着珠宝盒、钥匙和他的一只鞋。 （冯默谌 译） Wounded or Dead? They took the stretcher out secretly through the back door. We were looking through the slats of the shutters. One of them went back - he must have forgotten something - maybe his comb. In the street the sheet gleamed all the whiter. The lights hadn't been turned on yet. I wonder if they'll have time - he said. The one with the cigarette which had gone out: I - he said - why should they hide him? The woman bent down next to him; her thighs showed all the way up. From the opposite side, the big dog was approaching, holding in its teeth the mask which was identical to the face of the one lying on the stretcher. And suddenly the five strong lamps came on. Underneath, motionless, the five informers wearing new black hats. We moved away quickly from the slats of the shutters. The room was all lit with lines and stripes - underlinings under invisible errors, and on the table, the jewellery case, the keys and one of his shoes. ♡ 水仙的衰落 墙灰掉在四处。 他的袜子和衬衫在椅子上。 床下，同样的影子，永远未知。 他赤身站在镜前。他全神贯注。 “不可能,”他说。“不可能。”他拿了一大片 生菜，从桌子上，放在嘴边，开始 咀嚼，裸体站在镜前，试图 再现或模仿他的本性。 （冯默谌 译） The Decline of Narcissus The plaster had come off the wall here and there. His socks and shirt on the chair. Under the bed, the same shadow, always unknown. He stood naked before the mirror. He concentrated. 'Impossible,’he said. 'Impossible.' He took from the table a big lettuce leaf, brought it to his mouth and started chewing it, standing the naked before the mirror, trying to recapture or to mimic his naturalness. ♡ 放血 他的所作所为都是为了赶走那只大苍蝇 固执地返回同一地点，回到他的庙宇， 回到他的脸颊，他的鼻子。最后他安安静静地站着。苍蝇 也一动不动地站在他的脸颊，吸他的血，越吸越大。 在他的地方，只剩下这只苍蝇，它也被 蜘蛛网缠裹，那里的水滴闪闪发光。 1972.11.1雅典 （冯默谌 译） BLOODLETTING His behavior was all one gesture to drive away the big fly that doggedly kept returning to the same spot, to his temple, to his cheek, to his nose. At last he stood still. The fly also stood still on his cheek, where it sucked his blood and grew larger. In his place only the fly remained, it too wrapped around by the spider’ s cobweb, where droplets of moisture glittered. Athens, November 1, 1972 ♡ 在黑暗中 点灯人带着梯子在黄昏时走过， 他点亮了岛上的灯，仿佛在黑暗中钻洞， 好像在打一口黄色的大水井。在井里 灯，笔直地，摇晃，铜绿的灯架，淹没； 一个十字架在圣佩拉吉亚的钟楼上闪过； 一条狗在马厩后吠叫，另一条在海关； 酒馆的招牌上滴着血；这个男人，坦胸露乳， 拿着一把红色的大刀；这个女人, 未梳头，在碗里打蛋清。 （冯默谌 译） In the Dark The lamplighter went by at sunset with his ladder, he lit the lamps of the island as if drilling holes in the darkness, as if drilling big yellow wells. In the wells the lamps ,upright, swayed, copper-green, drowned; a cross flashed on the belfry of Saint Pelagia; a dog barked behind the stable, another at the Customs; the tavern sign dripped blood; the man, barechested, held a big red knife; the woman, uncombed, beat the eggwhites in a bowl. ♡ 协助 风在窗前说话 像那些将要分别的人。 家具变得如贫穷的女孩，在捡拾 那些掉落的橄榄。在橄榄树下，黄昏 独自漫步，收获了小麦的田地 是种否认。蝉蜕看起来像一个 小小的、倒塌的钟塔，在枯草中。 细雨随即而来──它追赶着麻雀， 月亮慢慢地躺在柏树下 像废弃的犁。农夫 睡在泥土下── 他的妻子独自生活，与狗和瘦牛。 沉默之手冻结了， 当她把黑头巾系在下巴时。 但是他手上留下的痕迹比留在犁木上的更有力， 椅背还留有他宽阔的肩胛骨的温暖。 关于这些微不足道的小事──我不知道── 我想写一首小歌，来表达我对他们的 一无所知──我只知道他们就是他们， 孤独的，非常孤独，他们也不要求 任何调解，在自己和他人间。 1938-1941 （冯默谌 译） ASSISTANCE The wind converses before the windows like those who are about to separate. The furniture becomes like the impoverished girls who gather fallen olives. Beneath the olive trees, the evening walks all alone, and the field with the harvested wheat is a denial. The cicada’s shed husk seems like a small, fallen bell-tower in the dry grass. The drizzle comes later—it pursues the sparrows, slowly the moon lies down beneath the cypresses like the abandoned plow. The ploughman sleeps beneath the soil— his wife alone with the dog and the thin ox. The hands of silence are frozen as she ties her black kerchief beneath her chin. But the trace of his hand stays more strongly than his hand on the wood of the plow and the back of the chair keeps the warmth of his broad shoulder blades. About these insignificant things—I don’t know— I want to write a small song that will show I don’t know anything about any of them—only that they are as they are, alone, completely alone, and neither do they ask for any mediation between themselves and someone else. 1938-1941 ♡ 在一座古庙的废墟中 博物馆的门卫正在羊圈前抽烟。 羊群在大理石废墟中吃草。 再往下，妇女们在河里浣洗。 你能听到铁匠铺里锤子的敲击声。 牧羊人吹着口哨。羊群跑向他，那大理石废墟仿佛也在奔跑。 在夹竹桃后，水稠密的后颈闪着清凉之光。一个女人 把她洗过的衣服摊搭在树木和雕塑上—— 把她丈夫的内衣裤也搭在赫拉的双肩上。 年复一年，重复这陌生的、和平的，无声的亲密。 在海滨，渔夫们头顶装满鱼的鱼篓经过， 好像他们携带着又长又窄的闪光： 金色的、玫瑰色的、和紫色的——就像那支队伍，披着长长的 华丽的女神绣花面纱，在别的日子里 在我们空空的房间中，我们可以剪下来当作窗帘和桌布。 （冯默谌 译） 注：赫拉，古希腊神话众神之王宙斯之妻、婚姻和生育女神。 In the Ruins of an Ancient Temple The museum guard was smoking in front of the sheepfold. The sheep were grazing among the marble ruins. Farther down the women were washing in the river. You could hear the beat of the hammer in the blacksmith’s shop. The shepherd whistled.The sheep ran to him as though the marble ruins were running. The water’s thick nape shone with coolness behind the oleanders. A woman spread her washed clothing on the shrubs and the statues—— she spread her husband’s underpants on Hera’s shoulders. Foreign, peaceful, silent intimacy ——years on years. Down on the shore the fishermen passed by with broadbaskets full of fish on their heads, as though they were carrying long and narrow flashes of light: gold, rose, and violet - the same as that procession bearing the long, richly embroidered veil of the goddess that we cut up the other day to arrange as curtains and table-cloths in our emptied houses. |
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