默温诗选译

1 《在故事中静远》 W.S. 默温

那个男孩走着有一群鹤 跟随着他并呼号着当它们 自他身后的地平线飞来 有时他以为他可以辨认出 所有呼号中的一种嗓音 但他不能听出它们呼号什么 而当他回首他无法将他们中起起 落落的呼号声彼此分别 但是他继续尝试去记得 他们呼号声中某样东西 直至他跌撞蹒跚地回到 他自己和面前的天日 空阔之野与径上的石块 静静躺着而每棵树在自己的叶中 群鹤在天空消失了而在 那一刻他记得他是谁 只是已忘却他的名字

Far Along in the Story W.S. Merwin

The boy walked with a flock of cranes following him calling as they came from the horizon behind him sometimes he thought he could recognize a voice in all that calling but he could not hear what they were calling and when he looked back he could not tell one of them from another in their rising and falling but he went on trying to remember something in their calls until he stumbled and came to himself with the day before him wide open and the stones of the path lying still and each tree in its own leaves the cranes were gone from the sky and at that moment he remembered who he was only he had forgotten his name

2 《致苏东坡的一封信》 【美】W.S.默温 差不多一千年以后 我问着这同样的问题 你曾经问过并始终找寻 自己回返的那些仿佛 什么都没变化除去他们 回声的音调越发深沉 而你知道的是岁月的来临 在你面前已显得陈旧 此刻的我所知道 不比那时候你所 疑问的更多当我坐在夜晚 岑寂的山谷之上想着 你在你的河上而那一 纸水鸟梦中明亮的月光 并且我还听见你 那问题之后的沉默 在今夜这些问题显得多么古老

2015.1.8 苏东坡生辰

A Letter to Su Tung P'o W.S Merwin

Almost a thousand years later I am asking the same questions you did the ones you kept finding yourself returning to as though nothing had changed except the tone of their echo growing deeper and what you knew of the coming of age before you had grown old I do not know any more now than you did then about what you were asking as I sit at night above the hushed valley thinking of you on your river that one bright sheet of moonlight in the dream of the waterbirds and I hear the silence after your questions how old are the questions tonight

3《你离去之时》

W.S.默温 你离去之时风飒飒地抟向北方 油漆工整日劳作但油漆在日暮时掉落 显现黑色的墙壁 时钟返身去敲响那同一刻 在年月中无以立锥的时辰

在晚间裹在灰烬的床里 在一份呼吸中我醒来 这正是死者胡须开始生长的时刻 我想起我在坠落 而我正是这因由 我的词语是我永远不会成为的那件衣衫 像一个独臂男孩卷起的衣袖

When You Go Away When you go away the wind clicks around to the north The painters work all day but at sundown the paint falls Showing the black walls The clock goes back to striking the same hour That has no place in the years

And at night wrapped in the bed of ashes In one breath I wake It is the time when the beards of the dead get their growth I remember that I am falling That I am the reason And that my words are the garment of what I shall never be Like the tucked sleeve of a one-armed boy

4 《十二月的晚上》 W.S.默温 寒冷的斜坡在黑暗中站立 树木的南面摸起来却很干燥

沉重的树枝爬进生着羽毛的月光 我上前注视这些 于夜间变老的白色植物 最苍老的 已先一步前往废墟

而我听到喜鹊为明月一直弄醒 水穿流过其 自己的手指没有穷尽

今夜又一次地 我发现一个形只的祈祷，而它与人类无关。

December Night W.S. Merwin

The cold slope is standing in darkness But the south of the trees is dry to the touch

The heavy limbs climb into the moonlight bearing feathers I came to watch these White plants older at night The oldest Come first to the ruins

And I hear magpies kept awake by the moon The water flows through its Own fingers without end

Tonight once more I find a single prayer and it is not for men

5 《任何时间》 　　 W.S.默温

那日是在多久以前 当最终我注视它 伴着它已带走的时间 仍然在其里面 此刻在透明的光中 跟随嗓音间的飞行 叶片间际的开始 我记起的每件事物 并在它之前在我之前 以光的速度呈现 远处里我就是那个 不断向它探出的人 目睹所有时间变得更快 在它那未被搅起波澜之处 在混沌初开以前 黑暗思索着光明

Any Time 　　 W.S. Merwin

How long ago the day is when at last I look at it with the time it has taken to be there still in it now in the transparent light with the flight in the voices the beginning in the leaves everything I remember and before it before me present at the speed of light in the distance that I am who keep reaching out to it seeing all the time faster where it has never stirred from before there is anything the darkness thinking the light

6 《这是三月》 W.S.默温

这是三月而黑色的尘埃从书本中掉落 很快我就将离开 曾暂住这里的高大灵魂 业已离去 静置林荫道的无色线头低于 旧的行情

当你回望时候往事总在那里 纵使它已然瞬间消失 但当你展望的时候 用你肮脏的指节以及你肩头 那无翼的鸟儿 你能写些什么

涩苦依然在老矿井中泛起 拳头正从鸡蛋里破出 温度计抽离了死尸的嘴巴

在某一特定高度 数只风筝的尾巴顷刻间 为脚步所覆盖

我须去做的任何一切均尚未开始

It Is March W.S. Merwin It is March and black dust falls out of the books Soon I will be gone The tall spirit who lodged here has Left already On the avenues the colorless thread lies under Old prices

When you look back there is always the past Even when it has vanished But when you look forward With your dirty knuckles and the wingless Bird on your shoulder What can you write

The bitterness is still rising in the old mines The fist is coming out of the egg The thermometers out of the mouths of the corpses

At a certain height The tails of the kites for a moment are Covered with footsteps

Whatever I have to do has not yet begun

7 《分离》 W.S.默温

你的缺席已穿过了我 似线头穿越针眼。 每件我所做的事都缝缀它的色彩。

2014.3.24

Sepration W.S.Merwin

Your absence has gone through me Like thread through a needle. Everything I do is stitched with its color.

8 《心愿 》 W.S.默温 我手中的星 星在坠落

规格一致的一切知晓何为无用

但愿我会向必然性鞠躬而 非向她的雇从

Wish W.S.Merwin The star in my Hand is falling

All the uniforms know what's no use

May I bow to Necessity not To her hirelings

9 《冬日黄昏》 【美】W.S.默温

斜阳孤旅无朋地落入幽冷， 没有为留与我们的一切感到责备。 它沉降下去信仰着空无。 当它去时我听到溪水奔流其后。 自那条漫漫长路带来它的笛声。

2015.5.18

Dusk in Winter William Stanley Merwin

The sun sets in the cold without friends, Without reproaches after all it has done for us. It goes down believing in nothing. When it has gone I hear the stream running after it. It has brought its flute it is a long way.

10 《写与我死亡的周年纪念》

【美】W.S.默温 每年在不知不觉中我已度过此日 这时最后的火光将向我挥动 而沉默也将上路 不倦的行客 像一枚无光星球的光束 于是我将不再 发现生活中的自己像在一件陌生的服装 不会对大地 对一个女人的爱 以及男人的无耻感到惊奇 如同在三日雨水后的今天写作 听见鹪鹩歌唱还有降落的终止 并向着莫名的事物欠身

2015.8.17 选自默温1967年诗集《虱子》

For The Anniversary Of My Death

W.S.Merwin Every year without knowing it I have passed the day When the last fires will wave to me And the silence will set out Tireless traveller Like the beam of a lightless star Then I will no longer Find myself in life as in a strange garment Surprised at the earth And the love of one woman And the shamelessness of men As today writing after three days of rain Hearing the wren sing and the falling cease And bowing not knowing to what

11、《致新年》 W. S. 默温

在最终如许的沉静中 你在山谷里出现 你的第一缕阳光抵落 触碰到一些高高的 没有被搅扰的叶梢 仿佛它们没有留意到 也根本不认识你 而后一只鸽子的嗓音 从远处自发地 叫醒早晨的嘘静

所以这就是你的声音 此时此地无论是否 有任何人听到，这就是 跟随我们年华而增添的 识见， 波澜不惊 我们的希望也如己所待 隐秘于我们面前 无法触及，却依旧可能

To the New Year W. S. Merwin

With what stillness at last you appear in the valley your first sunlight reaching down to touch the tips of a few high leaves that do not stir as though they had not noticed and did not know you at all then the voice of a dove calls from far away in itself to the hush of the morning

so this is the sound of you here and now whether or not anyone hears it this is where we have come with our age our knowledge such as it is and our hopes such as they are invisible before us untouched and still possible

12 《距离》 W.S.默温

当你想起距离 你回想 我们是不朽的

你想起它们是从我们发端的 所有的它们都从 我们发端 无一死去，也无一被忘记

而遍及世界都有雌兽 仰面靠躺 想起海洋 The Distances W.S.Merwin

When you think of the distances you recall that we are immortal

you think of them setting out from us all of them setting out from us and none dies and none is forgotten

and all over the world there are dams lying on their backs thinking of the sea

13 《马》（The Horse） 【美】 W.S.默温

在一棵死去的树中 有一魄马的精魂 没有马 曾经在这棵树附近发现 但这棵树诞生 自一匹母马 它翻滚长长的腿 在沙沙作响的草地间 它竖起它的耳朵 抬起并把头向上甩去 而突然间站立不动 静静开始回忆 当它叶片飘落 2015.3.14 选自诗人诗集《罗盘花》（The Compass Flower,1977）

14

《最初的日子》

W·S·默温

当我自一块大陆而来

我看到它在我身后关闭

像一个失落的元素

在日复一日之后

我才相信终要离开它

这里浮现的是我记忆

长长的回光

在这另一个世界蒙纱于

破晓时分它正被

知晓的错觉里

当诸多梦境戛然消隐

遁入阴影仅仅留在

它们地点的是那些熟悉的

曾经熟悉的风景

它的道路空阔向南

屋顶从它们各自的轨道

间依次浮现依照着一份

确定得如同四季

更移的次序

田野翠绿黄褐相间

在田野外还有随年月递进

的群山红色的乳牛在坡上

云朵般的羊群则游在边缘

还有日暮时的房门

一个古老的动词在锁中转动

而那冷石的芬芳当门

再一次退入黑暗的嘘静

既不回答也不遗忘

而一种不变的惊讶

从未被驯顺或者命名

未曾持于手中

未被全然看见

但他依然如是

音讯以前的一个视像

一段梦里飞行的天赋

梦境清晰深厚在那里我瞥见

遥不可及的那些闪亮的日子

那样的熠熠中铸就现在的我

The First Days

W. S. Merwin

As I come from a continent

that I saw closing behind me

like a lost element

day after day before

I believed I was leaving it

here surfacing through the long

backlight of my recollection

is this other world veiled

in its illusion of being known

at the moment of daybreak

when the dreams all at once are gone

into shadow leaving only

in their place the familiar

once-familiar landscape

with its road open to the south

the roofs emerging on the way

from their own orbits according

to an order as certain

as the seasons

the fields emerald and mustard

and beyond them the precession

of hills with red cows on the slopes

and then the edging clouds of sheep

and the house door at evening

one old verb in the lock turning

and the fragrance of cold stone as once more

the door cedes in a dark hush

that neither answers nor forgets

and an unchanged astonishment

that has never been tamed nor named

nor held in the hand

nor ever fully seen

but it is still the same

a vision before news a gift

of flight in a dream

of clear depths where I glimpse

far out of reach the lucent days

from which now I am made