诗集5 《独一无二的舞蹈》
诗歌 译作
【草稿，请勿转载！】
冬夜
今夜我从卫兵那儿
提水回来，看着月亮
在我桶里，我醉心于
那些中国诗人
和他们无瑕的痛苦。
P6
【译按：有朋友认为第二行 off guard 译错了。作为一个词组理解，off guard 意思是unprepared for some surprise or difficulty，这样前两行就成了：
今夜我正在取水
猝不及防，当看到月亮
我不是很确定。因为当时吉尔伯特住的地方非常偏僻，他在一首诗里提到通信都依赖当地驻军，所以我理解成卫兵。】
WINTER IN THE NIGHT FIELDS
I was getting water tonight
off guard when I saw the moon
in my bucket and was tempted
by those Chinese poets
and their immaculate pain.
爱过之后
他凝神于音乐，眼睛闭着。
倾听钢琴像一个人穿行
在林间，思想依随于感觉。
乐队在树林上方，而心在树下，
一级接一级。音乐有时变得急促，
但总是归于平静，像那个人
回忆着，期待着。这是我们自身之一物，
却常常被忽略。莫名地，有一种快乐
在丧失中。在渴望中。痛苦
正这样或那样地离去。永不再来。
永不再次凝聚成形。又一次永不。
缓慢。并非不充分。几乎离去。
寂静中一种蜂鸣之美。
那曾经存在的。曾经拥有的。还有那个人
他知道他的一切都即将结束。
P14
AFTER LOVE
He is watching the music with his eyes closed.
Hearing the piano like a man moving
through the woods thinking by feeling.
The orchestra up in the trees, the heart below,
step by step. The music hurrying sometimes,
but always returning to quiet, like the man
remembering and hoping. It is a thing in us,
mostly unnoticed. There is somehow a pleasure
in the loss. In the yearning. The pain
going this way and that. Never again.
Never bodied again. Again the never.
Slowly. No undergrowth. Almost leaving.
A humming beauty in the silence.
The having been. Having had. And the man
knowing all of him will come to the end.
等待和发现
他上幼儿园时，到玩中音鼓的时候，
大家都想玩。你必须跑过去
才能先到那儿，可他不愿意。
所以他总是拿三角铁。他不记得
他们怎样打中音鼓，但他看得清楚
它们的中国样子。前后是红的，有龙，
周围是金色的饰钉，把鼓皮压得紧紧。
如果你拿三角铁，你不算真正弄音乐。
你大多时候要等着，而铃鼓和中音鼓
持续很长时间。直到有一个信号，要所有
拿三角铁的人按那种方式敲打。通常一次。
然后又是中音鼓，再等着。但他
记得的是三角铁的声音。一种完美的，
微微闪亮的声音，持续了他漫长的一生。
渐渐变弱，片刻后再次到来。迷失，
等待它再次到来。“等待”意味着
没有东西。意味着爱有时渐渐消逝。
有时被带走。意味着他经常沉默地
住在世界的音乐中。等待着
最好的再次到来。在等待中开始
听见寂静。开始喜欢或许太多的寂静。
P15
WAITING AND FINDING
While he was in kindergarten, everybody wanted to play
the tomtoms when it came time for that. You had to
run in order to get there first, and he would not.
So he always had a triangle. He does not remember
how they played the tomtoms, but he sees clearly
their Chinese look. Red with dragons front and back
and gold studs around that held the drumhead tight.
If you had a triangle, you didn’t really make music.
You mostly waited while the tambourines and tomtoms
went on a long time. Until there was a signal for all
triangle people to hit them the right way. Usually once.
Then it was tomtoms and waiting some more. But what
he remembers is the sound of the triangle. A perfect,
shimmering sound that has lasted all his long life.
Fading out and coming again after a while. Getting lost
and the waiting for it to come again. Waiting meaning
without things. Meaning love sometimes dying out,
sometimes being taken away. Meaning that often he lives
silent in the middle of the world’s music. Waiting
for the best to come again. Beginning to hear the silence
as he waits. Beginning to like the silence maybe too much.
饥饿的生活之后
那些水泽仙女们到波塞冬面前
解释说她们如何丝毫不欲
与神结合。除了要发现
是否有所不同，是否有一个
新鲜的世界，她们腰部的另一个维度。
在旧日的匹兹堡，我们梦想有一个城市
那里的女人读法语原文的普鲁斯特，
还好奇我们是否能横江绝海，进入
一种异样的快乐，如果我们付钱
一个应召女郎一千元一晚。或一小时。
难道区别只是类似，或者只是
技巧和器械？我曾担心一场伟大的爱情
可能会将其他一切放逐。
结果已经证明：两人一起
黄昏时在翁布里亚的橄榄林里，
确实，确实，衡量了其后的一切事情。
P21
LIVING HUNGRY AFTER
The water nymphs who came to Poseidon
explained how little they desired to couple
with the gods. Except to find out
whether it was different, whether there was
a fresh world, another dimension in their loins.
In the old Pittsburgh we dreamed of a city
where women read Proust in the original French,
and wondered whether we would cross over
into a different joy if we paid a call girl
a thousand dollars for a night. Or an hour.
Would it be different in kind or only
tricks and apparatus? I worried that a great
love might make everything else an exile.
It turned out that being together
at twilight in the olive groves of Umbria
did, indeed, measure everything after that.
回家
妈妈是佃农的女儿。
爸爸是富有的弗吉尼亚商人家的
败家子。她十二岁前都是光脚。
他十四岁时跟着马戏团跑了。
没有一个上完语法学校。
如今我在学院的盥洗室
使劲回想韦斯巴芗大帝的时间。
P40
正是如此
躺在房子前面
整个下午试着写一首诗。
沉沉入睡。
醒来，繁星满天。
P41
珍惜那些不是的
啊，你们，我这漫长一生爱过的
三个女人，和其他几个一起。
第四个我也许爱过，或者很快
熄灭了爱。如今我徘徊林中
一边歌唱你们。几分后悔，几分
思念，和一分死亡的可悲。
我带着你们身体和心的隐秘
在我心中。可羞的激情
和无羞的亲昵，谜一般的
种种幸福和尘封的童年。
我在冬天空阔的林中大声地
歌唱你们，在夏天安静而欣喜。
二十个女人，如果你计算
大大小小的爱情，短暂的真爱，
和持续的爱。温柔的爱和某些
几乎像是动物和它的猎物。
留下的都活在我心里。你的美
之凋零及其残留。
你像是列国，我的爱在其中
发生。像一只钟在林中
在每一阵风里发出你的音乐。
一种音乐包含了那些你已经忘记的。
它们将随着我的死亡而终结。
P53.
CHERISHING WHAT ISN'T
Ah, you three women whom I have loved in this
long life, along with the few others.
And the four I may have loved, or stopped short
of loving. I wander through these woods
making songs of you. Some of regret, some
of longing, and a terrible one of death.
I carry the privacy of your bodies
and hearts in me. The shameful ardor
and the shameless intimacy, the secret kinds
of happiness and the walled-up childhoods.
I carol loudly of you among trees emptied
of winter and rejoice quietly in summer.
A score of women if you count love both large
and small, real ones that were brief
and those that lasted. Gentle love and some
almost like an animal with its prey.
What is left is what’s alive in me. The failing
of your beauty and its remaining.
You are like countries in which my love
took place. Like a bell in the trees
that makes your music in each wind that moves.
A music composed of what you have forgotten.
That will end with my ending.
(page 53)
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