译诗练习：米沃什 《孤独研究》

孤独研究

作者 / [波兰] 切斯瓦夫·米沃什 翻译 / 王兆阳

沙漠中长途管道的守护者？ 一个人战斗的沙地要塞？ 不管他是谁。黎明时分，他看到沟壑纵横的群山 染成了烬灰，在融化的黑暗之上 浸透了紫罗兰色，变成了流动的胭脂。 直到他们站起来，在橙色的灯光下，膨大。 一天又一天，一年又一年。在他注意到之前 他想，这荣光是为了谁？只为我一人吗？ 然而在我死之后这里还会长存。 在蜥蜴的眼中它是什么？或者当它被一只迁徙的鸟看见？ 如果我是整个人类，他们自身之中没有我吗？ 他知道喊叫是没有用的，因为没有一个人会救他。 伯克利，1975年

STUDY OF LONELINESS

A guardian of long-distance conduits in the desert? The one-man crew of a fortress in the sand? Whoever he was. At dawn he saw furrowed mountains The color of ashes, above the melting darkness, Saturated with violet, breaking into fluid rouge, Till they stood, immense, in the orange light. Day after day. And, before he noticed, year after year. For whom, he thought, that splendor? For me alone? Yet it will be here long after I perish. What is it in the eye of a lizard? Or when seen by a migrant bird? If I am all mankind, are they themselves without me? And he knew there was no use crying out, for none of them would save him. Berkeley, 1975

在天堂会怎样

我知道在天堂会怎样，因为我曾在那里。 在它的河边。听着它的鸟鸣。 在它的季节里：夏天，太阳升起后不久。 我起床，奔向我的一千个工作 和远离尘世的花园，由想象力支配。 我倾其一生都在创作有节奏的咒语 不太清楚在我身上发生了什么。 但努力着，不停地追逐着 一个名字和一个形式。我认为血液的运行 应该在那里继续，我想说的是，成为一名 更高——级别的获胜者。那是紫罗兰的气息。 一株旱金莲花、一只蜜蜂和一只瓢虫的气味 或它们特殊的精气，比这里更浓烈。 必须把我们同样召唤到核心，到一个 超越事物的迷宫中心。因为心灵怎么可能 停止它的狩猎，如果它从无限中 获得了迷惑、贪婪和承诺？ 但是我们，昂贵的死亡，在哪里？ 毁灭同时又拯救我们的时间在哪里？ 这对我来说太难了。永远的安宁 可能没有早晨也没有傍晚， 这种不足表明了它的缺陷。 而这对神学家而言是一个很难破解的问题。

罗马 ,1986年

HOW IT SHOULD BE IN HEAVEN

How it should be in Heaven I know, for I was there. By its river. Listening to its birds. In its season: in summer, shortly after suntise. I would get up and run to my thousand works And the garden was superterrestrial, owned by imagination. I spent my life composing rhythmical spells Not quite aware of what was happening to me. But striving, chasing without cease A name and a form. I think the movement of blood Should continue there to be a triumphant one, Of a higher, I would say, degree. That the smell of gilyflower, That a nasturtium and a bee and a ladybug Or their very essence, stronger than here, Must summon us just the same to a core, to a center Beyond the labyrinth of things. For how could the mind Stop its hunt, if from the Infinite It takes enchantment, avidity, promise? But where is our, dear to us, mortality? Where is time that both destroys and saves us? This is too difficult for me. Peace eternal Could have no mornings and no evenings, Such a deficiency speaks against it. And that‘s too hard a nut for a theologian to crack.

Rome, 1986

给简·莱伯恩斯坦

当然我们有很多共同点。 我们这些在巴洛克城市长大的人 不会去问哪个国王建立了一座教堂 我们每天都经过，哪些公主住在 宫殿里，建筑师、雕塑家的名字是什么。 他们从哪里来，什么时候来，以什么闻名。 我们更喜欢在豪华的门廊前打球， 跑过飘窗和大理石台阶， 后来，对我们来说公园里荫蔽的长椅 比头顶上的一群石膏天使更亲切。 然而，有什么仍然保留了下来：我们都喜欢的曲线 我们高高在上的对称螺旋曲线， 火焰一样 用华美的垂褶丝绸装扮我们的女人 好让她们在骷髅舞会上光彩照人。 伯克利，1985年

FOR JAN LEBENSTEIN

Certainly we have much in common, We who grew up in baroque cities Without asking what king has founded a church We passed every day, what princesses lived In the palace, what were the names of architects, sculptors. Where they came from and when, what made them famous. We preferred to play ball in front of ornate porticoes, To run past bay windows and marble stairs, Later on, benches in shadowy parks were dearer to us Than a throng of gypsum angels overhead. And yet something remained: our liking for tortuous line, Our high spirals of contraries, flame-like, And dressing our women in abundantly draped silks To brighten the dance of skeletons. Berkeley, 1985