雙語(yǔ)·《西爾維婭·普拉斯詩(shī)集》 小賦格曲

Little Fugue
小賦格曲

The yew’s black fingers wag;
紫杉黑色的樹(shù)枝搖擺；

Cold clouds go over.
寒冷的云朵飄過(guò)。

So the deaf and dumb
那個(gè)又聾又啞的人

Signal the blind, and are ignored.
示意盲人，卻被忽視了。

I like black statements.
我喜歡憂郁的陳述。

The featureless of that cloud, now!
瞧，那朵云平淡無(wú)奇！

White as an eye all over!
蒼白仿佛一只眼！

The eye of the blind pianist
盲人鋼琴師的那只眼

At my table on the ship.
在船上，我的桌上。

He left for his food.
他摸索著找食物

His fingers had the noses of weasels.
他的手指像鼬鼠的鼻子。

I couldn’t stop looking.
我忍不住瞧著。

He could hear Beethoven:
他可以聽(tīng)見(jiàn)貝多芬：

Black yew, white cloud,
黑色紫杉，白色云朵，

The horrific complications.
可怕的多種并發(fā)癥。

Finger-traps—a tumult of keys.
手指受阻——琴鍵的凌亂聲。

Empty and silly as plates,
如空盤(pán)那般愚蠢，

So the blind smile.
因此盲人微笑了。

I envy the big noises,
我討厭大聲喧嘩，

The yew hedge of the Grosse Fuge.
紫杉樹(shù)籬般的大賦格曲。

Deafness is something else.
耳聾是另一回事。

Such a dark funnel, my father!
如此黑暗的煙囪，我的父親！

I see your voice
我聽(tīng)見(jiàn)你的聲音

Black and leafy, as in my childhood,
憂郁而葉茂，仿佛我的童年。

A yew hedge of orders,
紫杉樹(shù)籬一樣的各種秩序

Gothic and barbarous, pure German.
哥特式、野蠻的，純粹的德國(guó)人。

Dead men cry from it.
已死的男人為此哭泣。

I am guilty of nothing.
我毫無(wú)內(nèi)疚。

The yew my Christ, then.
紫杉樹(shù)，我的耶穌。

Is it not as tortured?
它沒(méi)有受折磨？

And you, during the Great War
而你，在大戰(zhàn)中

In the California delicatessen
在加利福尼亞的熟食店

Lopping the sausages!
在切那些香腸！

They color my sleep,
它們使我的睡眠有趣，

Red, mottled, like cut necks.
紅色，斑駁，仿佛切下的脖子。

There was a silence!
然后一片寂靜！

Great silence of another order.
另一種秩序的無(wú)聲寂靜。

I was seven, I knew nothing.
我那時(shí)七歲，一無(wú)所知。

The world occurred.
人生卻開(kāi)始了。

You had one leg, and a Prussian mind.
你有一條腿，還有普魯士人的頭腦。

Now similar clouds
相似的云朵

Are spreading their vacuous sheets.
正飄散在無(wú)聊的床單上。

Do you say nothing?
你沒(méi)說(shuō)什么？

I am lame in the memory.
我的記憶缺損。

I remember a blue eye,
我記得一只藍(lán)眼，

A briefcase of tangerines.
裝滿柑橘的手提包。

This was a man, then!
就是這個(gè)人！

Death opened, like a black tree, blackly.
死亡呈現(xiàn)，抑郁地，像一棵黑色樹(shù)。

I survive the while,
那刻我幸存了，

Arranging my morning.
正在安排我的早晨。

These are my fingers, this my baby.
這些是我的手指，這是我的嬰兒。

The clouds are a marriage dress, of that pallor.
云朵是結(jié)婚禮服，那種蒼白。

(1962/04/02. pp.187—189. No.158)
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