雙語·《西爾維婭·普拉斯詩集》 爸爸

Daddy
爸爸

You do not do, you do not do
你不要，你不要做

Any more, black shoe
再也不做，黑色的鞋子

In which I have lived like a foot
我像只腳，住在里面

For thirty years, poor and white,
已經(jīng)三十年，貧困又蒼白，

Barely daring to breathe or Achoo.
我不敢呼吸也不敢打噴嚏。

Daddy, I have had to kill you.
爸爸，我早該殺了你，

You died before I had time——
我有時間前你就死了——

Marble-heavy, a bag full of God,
沉重如大理石，裝滿上帝的袋子，

Ghastly statue with one gray toe
可怕的雕像長著一個灰腳趾

Big as a Frisco seal
像舊金山的海豹那樣大

And a head in the freakish Atlantic
而頭倚在畸形的大西洋上

Where it pours bean green over blue
那兒大西洋將豆綠拋向藍色

In the waters off beautiful Nauset.
的水域，美麗的瑙塞特。

I used to pray to recover you.
我過去常祈求你復(fù)活。

Ach, du.
啊，你。

In the German tongue, in the Polish town
說德國話，住波蘭鎮(zhèn)

Scraped flat by the roller
那個被戰(zhàn)爭，戰(zhàn)爭，戰(zhàn)爭的

Of wars, wars, wars.
滾壓機碾平的小鎮(zhèn)。

But the name of the town is common.
而小鎮(zhèn)的名卻也普通。

My Polack friend
我的波蘭朋友

Says there are a dozen or two.
說有一打或兩打之多。

So I never could tell where you
所以我從來無法說清

Put your foot, your root,
你到過何處，根在何處。

I never could talk to you.
我從來無法跟你說話

The tongue stuck in my jaw.
那語言卡在我的下頜。

It stuck in a barb wire snare.
卡在有倒鉤的鋼絲圈里。

Ich, ich, ich, ich,
我，我，我，我，

I could hardly speak.
我?guī)缀鯚o法說話。

I thought every German was you.
我原以為每個德國人是你

And the language obscene
但這語言污穢

An engine, an engine
火車頭，火車頭

Chuffing me off like a Jew.
把我?guī)ё?，像猶太人。

A Jew to Dachau, Auschwitz, Belsen.
去達豪、奧斯維辛、貝爾森的猶太人。

I began to talk like a Jew.
我開始說話，像猶太人。

I think I may well be a Jew.
我想我很可能是猶太人。

The snows of the Tyrol, the clear beer of Vienna
蒂羅爾的雪，維也納的清啤酒

Are not very pure or true.
不太純也不真實。

With my gipsy ancestress and my weird luck
我有吉卜賽女祖先，我的奇特命運

And my Taroc pack and my Taroc pack
我有塔羅克紙牌，我的塔羅克紙牌

I may be a bit of a Jew.
我也許有幾分像猶太人。

I have always been scared of you,
我一直都害怕你，

With your Luftwaffe, your gobbledygoo.
你的德國空軍，你的官腔，

And your neat mustache
還有你整齊的胡子

And your Aryan eye, bright blue.
你的雅利安眼睛，明亮的藍，

Panzer-man, panzer-man, O You——
裝甲兵，裝甲兵，哦你——

Not God but a swastika
不是上帝，而是卐字飾，

So black no sky could squeak through.
漆黑得連夜空也無法比擬。

Every woman adores a Fascist,
每個女人崇拜法西斯分子，

The boot in the face, the brute
野蠻的靴子，踢在人臉上

Brute heart of a brute like you.
野蠻的心長在野獸身上像你。

You stand at the blackboard, daddy,
你就站在黑板旁，爸爸，

In the picture I have of you,
我有你的這張照片，

A cleft in your chin instead of your foot
你的下巴有裂痕，不是腳，

But no less a devil for that, no not
但你依然是魔鬼，不比

Any less the black man who
那黑衣人差勁，那個人

Bit my pretty red heart in two.
將我紅色的心咬成兩半。

I was ten when they buried you.
我十歲時他們埋葬了你。

At twenty I tried to die
二十歲時我嘗試去死

And get back, back, back to you.
想回到，回到，回到你的身邊。

I thought even the bones would do.
我原想變成白骨也情愿。

But they pulled me out of the sack,
但他們把我從袋里拖出，

And they stuck me together with glue.
他們用膠水把我拼粘好。

And then I knew what to do.
那時我才清楚該做什么。

I made a model of you,
我以你為原型做了一個，

A man in black with a Meinkampf look
黑衣男人，帶著《我的奮斗》之神色

And a love of the rack and the screw.
而且酷愛刑架和螺絲釘。

And I said I do, I do.
于是我說，我愿，我愿。

So daddy, I’m finally through.
但爸爸，我最終了結(jié)了。

The black telephone’s off at the root,
黑色的電話線連根斷開，

The voices just can’t worm through.
聲音再也無法緩慢通過。

If I’ve killed one man, I’ve killed two——
若我殺死一個男人，我殺了倆——

The vampire who said he was you
那吸血鬼曾說他就是你

And drank my blood for a year,
他吸我的血也有年頭了，

Seven years, if you want to know.
告訴你吧，已有七年了。

Daddy, you can lie back now.
爸爸，你現(xiàn)在可以安息。

There’s a stake in your fat black heart
木樁插在你肥胖的黑色心臟上，

And the villagers never liked you.
村民們從來不曾喜歡你。

They are dancing and stamping on you.
他們踩在你身上跳著舞，

They always knew it was you.
他們一直清楚這就是你。

Daddy, daddy, you bastard, I’m through.
爸爸，爸爸，你這混蛋，我受夠了。

(1962/10/12. pp.222—224. No. 183)
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