AN INTERNATIONAL POETRY JOURNAL IN ENGLISH & CHINESE

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Spring 2016Issue 11

Jean Valentine was born in Chicago, earned her B.A. from Radcliffe College, and has lived most of her life in New York City. Her first collection, Dream Barker, won the 1965 Yale Younger Poets Prize. Her 13th book of poetry is Shirt in Heaven, published by Copper Canyon Press in 2015. Door in the Mountain: New and Collected Poems 1965 – 2003 won the 2004 National Book Award for Poetry.

Among her many other honors are the 2009 Wallace Stevens Award from the Academy of American Poets, as well as fellowships from the National Endowment for the Arts, The Bunting Institute, the Rockefeller Foundation, and the Guggenheim Foundation. She served two terms as State Poet of New York, and was recognized in 2014 by the American Academy of Arts and Letters for exceptional accomplishment in literature.

Jean Valentine has taught at Sarah Lawrence College, the Graduate Writing Program of New York University, Columbia University, and the 92nd Street Y in Manhattan.

美國詩人吉恩·瓦倫汀出生於芝加哥,畢業於拉德克利夫學院,在紐約生活多年。她的第一本詩集《夢的叫賣者》曾獲1965年耶魯青年詩人獎。第13本詩集《天堂襯衫》在2015年由Copper Canyon出版社出版。詩集《山中之門:1965—2003與新詩選》獲2004年國家圖書獎。

此外,她還榮獲2009年美國詩人學院華萊士·史蒂文斯獎和美國國家藝術基金會、班亭研究中心、洛克菲勒基金會、古根海姆基金會的獎勵。她是紐約州兩屆桂冠詩人。2014年,美國藝術暨文學學會為她頒發了卓越文學成就獎。

吉恩·瓦倫汀曾在沙拉勞倫斯學院、紐約大學研究生寫作班、哥倫比亞大學、曼哈頓92nd Street Y藝術中心任教。

MANDELSTAM

1934—35. The time of his arrest and imprisonment in Moscow,
and his exile, with his wife Nadezhda Jakolevna Khazina, to
Voronezh.

My mother’s house
Russia

Calm are the wolf’s bronze udders,
calm the light around her
fur, out-starred with frost

I am 43
Moscow we will not live

Russia
Iron shoe
its little
incurved length and width

Russia    old
root cellar    old mouth of
blood under-the-earth
pulling us down into herself
no room to lie down

    and your poor hand
    over and over
    draws my brain
    back to your breast’s small
    campfire

Voronezh we won’t live
    not even my hand
    to hold to your hand, useless.
    snuffing the fishing light, shoving off.

 

曼德爾施塔姆

1934至1935年,他在莫斯科被捕,囚禁,
後來與妻子娜傑日達·雅可夫列夫娜·哈津娜
一起流放到沃羅涅日。

我母親的房屋
俄羅斯

多麼鎮靜母狼青銅的乳房
她皮毛四周的
光,綴滿霜星

我四十三歲
莫斯科我們活不下去

俄羅斯
鐵鞋
它那撐不開的
弧形的長和寬

俄羅斯    古老的
菜窖    古老的
地底下的血嘴
把我們拖向她的深處
沒有躺下的餘地

    你可憐的手
    一次又一次
    牽引我的頭腦
    回到你乳房那小小的
    營火

沃羅涅日我們活不下去
    哪怕我伸手
    去握你的手,沒有用。

翻譯 © 史春波

SNOW LANDSCAPE, IN A GLASS GLOBE

In memory of Elizabeth Bishop

A thumb’s-length landscape: Snow, on a hill
in China. I turn the glass ball over in my hand,
and watch the snow
blow around the Chinese woman,
calm at her work,
carrying her heavy yoke
uphill, towards the distant house.
Looking out through the thick glass ball
she would see the lines of my hand,
unearthly winter trees, unmoving, behind the snow…

No more elders.
The Boston snow grays and softens
the streets where you were…
Trees older than you, alive.

The snow is over and the sky is light.
Pale, pale blue distance…
Is there an east? A west? A river?
There, can we live right?

I look back in through the glass. You,
in China, I can talk to you.
The snow has settled; but it’s cold
there, where you are.

What are you carrying?
For the sake of what? through such hard wind
and light.
                        —And you look out to me,
and you say, “Only the same as everyone; your breath,
your words, move with mine,
under and over this glass; we who were born
and lived on the living earth.”

 

雪景,在玻璃球裏

紀念伊麗莎白·畢曉普

一片拇指大小的風景:雪,覆在山坡上
在中國。我把手裏的玻璃球倒過來,
看雪
吹拂在一位中國婦人的四周,
她靜靜地工作,
拖著沉重的軛
上山,走向遠處的房屋。
從厚厚的玻璃球裏向外看
她會看見我手指的線條,
不合時宜的冬天的樹,一動不動,隔著雪……

不再有長者。
波士頓的雪使你曾在的街道
暗淡,柔和……
比你更老的樹,還活著。

雪停了,重現天光。
朦朧的,朦朧的藍色遠方……
那裏是否有一個東方?一個西方?一條河?
在那裏,我們是否能正確地生活?

我再一次朝玻璃裏看。你,
在中國,我可以與你對話。
雪已落定;但是很冷
在那裏,你所在之地。

你背負著什麼?
為了什麼緣故?穿行在如此艱難的風
和光之中。
                        ——你把目光投向外面的我,
你說,「我們所背負的沒有區別,你的呼吸,
你說的話,與我的同樣生動,
在這玻璃之下,玻璃之外;我們這些人出生
在活著的大地上生活。」

翻譯 © 史春波

MOON MAN

‘Here too we dare to hope.’
—Romano Guardini

Swimming down to us
light years
not always a straight line
that was his joke, his night
fears, his pilgrim’s climb.

About half way
throwing his silver
suit away he
sees the green earth
click for the first time:

the lightest girl
the heaviest ocean
coming to themselves
and to his hand.

He sets a comradely couple walking
down his white road,
hospitable; hears a shiny
boy and girl, bird and bird
having a time

in his green water.
Clean against it all
one last hour
all alone the moon man’s
open everywhere:

This mass is his salt
his girl
                    his sky
his work
                        his floor.

 

月亮男人

「在這裏我們也敢於希望。」
——羅馬諾·瓜爾蒂尼

向我們游下來
多少光年
變換著路線
那是他的玩笑,他黑夜的
恐懼,朝聖者的攀爬。

半途中
他扔掉他
白銀的外套
看見蒼翠的地球
第一次閃爍:

最輕盈的女孩
最厚重的海
蘇醒過來
迎向他的手掌。

他為一對親密的伴侶
鋪設一條白色的路,
那麼周到;聽見發光的
男孩和女孩,鳥和鳥
暢遊

在他綠色的水域。
潔淨對抗一切
在最後的時辰
全然孤獨,月亮男人
袒露無遺:

這密集是他的鹽
他的女孩
                    他的天空
他的工作
                        他的地板。

翻譯 © 史春波

DO FLIES REMEMBER US

Do flies remember us
We don’t them
we say “fly”

say
“woman”
“man”

you    gone
through my hands
me through your hands

our footprints feeling
over us
thirstily

 

蒼蠅會否記住我們

蒼蠅會否記住我們
我們記不住它們
我們說「蒼蠅」


「女人」
「男人」

你    去了
經過我的手
我經過你的手

我們的腳印
在彼此身上
經受渴

翻譯 © 史春波

GOD OF ROOMS

for Paul Celan

God of rooms, of this room made of taken away
papers and books, of removal, this single
room made of taken-away
empty now, god of empty rooms, god of
one unable to speak, god of turned over boats
in the wind (god of boat and mouth and ear)
listen to someone, be of-you
needful to someone

 

房間的上帝

給保羅·策蘭

房間的上帝,這間被帶走之屋的上帝
這些被移動的紙和書,這間
為帶走而出現的屋
現在空了,空房間之神,不可
言說之神,倒扣之船之神
在風中(船和嘴巴和耳朵之神)
傾聽向某個人,那個因為你
而需要的某個人

翻譯 © 王家新

THE PEN

The sandy road, the bright green two-inch lizard
little light on the road

the pen that writes by itself
the mist that blows by, through itself

the gourd I drink from in my sleep
that also drinks from me

—Who taught me to know instead of not to know?
And this pen    its thought

lying on the thought of the table
a bow lying across the strings

not moving
held

 

佈滿沙石的路,豔綠色兩寸長的蜥蜴
路上的一點光亮

一支自動書寫的筆
一陣迷霧吹過,從迷霧裏

我夢中從之啜飲的葫蘆
也從我啜飲

——是誰教會我思考而非不去思考?
這支筆    它的思想

平躺在書桌的思想上
琴弓躺在弦上

保持
靜止

翻譯 © 史春波

“AS WITH ROSY STEPS THE MORN”

in memory of Lorraine Hunt Lieberson

Everyone
on the other side of the earth
standing upside down, listening,
Everyone on the reverse of the picture
on the other side of the measuring eye

The five notes, slowly, over & over,
and with some light intent,
And the whole air,
no edge, no center,

And the light so thin, so fast—

*

Don’t listen to the words—
they’re only little shapes for what you’re saying,
they’re only cups if you’re thirsty, you aren’t thirsty.

 

「當黎明邁著玫瑰色歩子」

紀念勞蘭·亨特·里伯森

每個人
在地球的另一邊
倒著站立,傾聽,
每個人都在顛倒的圖景裏
在測度之眼的另一側面

五種音調,慢慢地,一次一次,
帶著凝聚的光,
而整個的空氣
沒有邊緣,沒有中心,

那光,如此稀薄,如此迅疾——

*

別去傾聽詞語——
它們只是一些你言說之物的小小形狀,
它們只是杯子如果你口渴。但你並不口渴。

翻譯 © 王家新

THE MISSOURI SPEAKS

for Jonathan Dunn, 1954—1988
Wolf Creek, Montana

Jonathan,
I am the pearl
The pearl at the node of the net of all the worlds

The jewel at the crown of your head
Turquoise

Ivory embryo
Spiral I bide

Sow and reap
Bale and step

Sow bread
Reap bread

Powerless I promise
Fire and bones and flesh

All I give I will sheave.

 

密蘇里河在說話

給喬納森·鄧恩,1954—1988
蒙大拿,狼溪

喬納森,
我是珍珠
是所有世界的漁網上打結的珍珠

是你頭頂王冠上的寶石
綠松石

象牙色的胚胎
我等候的螺旋

播種與收獲
打捆與邁步

播種面包
收獲面包

無力,我承諾
火與骨與肉

我付出的一切我將收割。

翻譯 © 史春波

HOME

I left my clothes
and books
my skin
a snake
—the only one in the country!
Our sign
life    twice

***

Scarab rolling a ball of dung
across the ground
scarab hieroglyph:
to come into being:
scarab rolling with the sun
across the sky
Atlantic

***

No one’s a house
for me anymore
or me for them
Home    not words but
I know it on my lips
it will come    it will melt
like ice on a stove    and I will drink it.

***

You walk across your self
as you walk across a dirt road
crossroads at dusk
and across a field    outsider
a field    and a field
steps go beside you    the sun
crossing a line    sun kind to you    sun you.

***

Under
water
look up at the dots of the sun run
along on the other side of the water line

under the white pine
the stars run along
on the other side of the sky’s line    no lines

***

Snow
falling slow
filling our footprints

writing a word
changing it

night
at the window
two birches, blown together.

***

Snow falling
off the Atlantic

out towards strangeness

you
a breath on a coal

 

我留下了我的衣服
和書
我的皮膚
一條蛇
——鄉間唯一的一條!
我們的符號
生活    兩次

***

蜣螂滾動著糞球
橫穿大地
蜣螂的象形文字:
重生
蜣螂同太陽一起滾動
橫穿天空
大西洋

***

再也沒有人
可充當我的房屋
我也不是他們的
家    並非詞語但
我的嘴唇認識它
它將到來    它將融化
像火爐上的冰    我將飲下它。

***

你從你自己身上走過
彷彿走過一條土路
黃昏的十字路口
穿過一片田野    局外人
一片田野 和一片田野
腳步走在你身旁    太陽
越過一條線    太陽對你仁慈    照你。

***



抬頭看太陽的光點
浮動在水的另一面

從一棵白松下
看星星浮動
在夜空的另一面    沒有分界線

***


落雪
填滿我們的足印

寫下一個詞
替換它


在窗畔
兩棵白樺,在疾風中。

***

雪降落
從大西洋

吹向它外部的奇異


一塊煤上的一口氣

翻譯 © 史春波

OUTSIDE THE FRAME

It is enough, now, anywhere,
with everyone you love there to talk to.

And to listen.
Slowly we can tell each other some things about our lives:
runs, rests, brief resolutions; falls, and lulls;
hard joyful runs, in certainty; dull, sweet
durances, human silences;
                                              look back in at the children,
the regular, neutral flicker of their blood; pale, solemn,
long-legged animal-gods in their sleep,
growing into their lives, in their sleep.

 

框架之外

這已足夠,此刻,無論身在何處,
那裏有你熱愛與之交談的人。

並傾聽。
慢慢我們可以對彼此講述一些自己的事:
奔波,安頓,暫時的化解;失落,與平複;
熱烈而愉快的奔走,那麼確定;枯燥的、甜蜜的
禁錮,人的沉默;
                                    回頭朝孩子的裏面看,
他們血液中規則、淡漠的撲閃;蒼白,莊嚴,
他們,睡夢中的長腿動物之神,
在體內生長,當他們熟睡。

翻譯 © 史春波

“ACTUARIAL FILE”

Orange peels, burned letters, the car lights shining on the grass,
everything goes somewhere—and everything we do—nothing
ever disappears. But changes. The roar of the sun in photographs.
Inching shorelines. Ice lines. The cells of our skin; our meetings,
our solitudes. Our eyes.

A bee careens at the window here; flies out, released: a life
without harm, without shame.    That woman, my friend,
circling against her life, a married life; that man, my friend,
solitary, anarchic, driving away from home; them driving, to each
other—

I know, the hard, half-lost, knowing will; the cold first loneliness
again, outside the commonweal, unmoving;

But to say, I know—is there any touch in it?

    The words in my dream: “actuarial file.” Actuary, I. A registrar or
    notary, who keeps records of the acts of a court…

To be there; to listen; not invade. Another solitude…

I watch her face. The lines of will, kindness, hunger. Silence. She
moves from one thing to another thing in the kitchen, looks out
the window at the other apartment windows…A woman moves
around, across the courtyard, making supper. How many people is
she making supper for? Now the woman waters the plants. What
is she thinking about. Her head, her arm, look peaceful…

Everything that happens, happens once and for all. Is this true?
If so, what then?”

Yes. Your story; all of your hope; what you do, breaks. Changes.
“If so, what then?” Nothing disappears. And you do last;

The words in the open page of her notebook, I’m so cold. My
head hurts.

Come stay here, at my place, a while.—Someday we will be able
to say, I did this thing; I did that other thing; I was that woman.
Someday, we will be able to take it in, that violence, hold it in our
hands … And the ones who come after us, maybe they can
understand us; forgive us; as we do forgive our parents, our
grandparents, moving so distantly through their lives…their
silences…
And the ones we were with    maybe our friendship can change,
can mend…

Come stay here. Things change…

She stays home;

Not to invade    Wait, here, in the quiet

 

「記錄在案」

橘子皮,燒掉的信,照亮草叢的車燈,
全部有目的地——我們所做的一切——全部
不曾消失。但轉變。照片中太陽的咆哮。
挪移的海岸線。結冰線。我們皮膚中的細胞;我們的聚會,
我們的獨處。我們的眼睛。

蜜蜂在窗邊沖撞;飛出去,自由:一個生命
不傷害,不羞愧。         那個女人,我的朋友,
逆著她的生活繞圈,一種婚姻生活;那個男人,我的朋友,
孤僻,不受約束,開車離家出走;他們開著車,駛向
彼此——

我知道,那堅定的,一半缺失的,自覺的意志;那最初寒冷的孤獨
一再地,在公共生活之外,維持原樣;

然而,說出我知道——是否意味著接近?

        我夢中出現的詞:「記錄在案。」錄入員,1.法庭上
        錄入事實,做記錄或公證的人……

在場,傾聽;不侵犯。另一種孤獨……

我觀察她的臉。線條裏透出意志、善意、饑餓。沉默。她
從廚房的一件事物走向另一件,看看窗外
別人家公寓的窗戶……一個女人
走來走去,在天井對面,烹煮晚餐。她在為多少人
做飯?現在她給植物澆水。她在思考著
什麼?她的頭,她的手臂,看上去那麼和諧……

一切發生的事,發生一次便終止。真的嗎?
真的,又如何?」

是的。你的故事;你全部的希望;你完成,你打破。轉變,
「真的,又如何?」一切未曾消失。你將是最後一個;

她筆記本上攤開的一頁寫著,我好冷,我
頭疼。

到這裏來,來我這裏,待一會。——有一天我們終將
說出,這件事是我所為;還有那一件;我就是那個女人。
有一天,我們終將接受這一切,暴力,把它握在我們的
手裏……那在我們之後到來的人,或許會
理解我們;原諒我們;正如我們原諒我們的父母,我們的
祖父母,他們遊離於遠處的生活,他們的
靜默……
還有那些曾經親近的人        但願我們的情誼會改變,
會修補……

到這裏來。事情會改變……

她留在家裏;

不侵犯        期待著,在原地,在安寧中

翻譯 © 史春波

A BIT OF RICE

A bit of rice in a string bag:
the rice spills,
we have to sweep it up…
What will be left here when you die?
Not the rice
not the tea
left somewhere when the monk
knocked over the cup
not
not

 

一些米

一些米裝在束口的袋子裏:
米灑了,
我們要把它掃起來……
你死後,這裏會留下什麼?
沒有米
沒有茶
留在某一地點,當僧侶
打翻茶杯
沒有
沒有

翻譯 © 史春波

ABOUT LOVE

1
No    when you went to her
(oh when she told me so) then I turned to
her    her    her    her: emptiness:

black hollows falling over alone
under the white running water

2
“Light as milk in a child’s cup,
I will hold you, at my lips
I will feed you,” said the soft black pelican
about love, the mother, God the pelican,
the mother, stem of all our tenderness.

3
Ribbon of the
silver path of the milky
light on the water, how
you follow yourself across my mouth,
across my hair;

beads of water,
bright tall necklace of light, how you
thread yourself through me, through
my lips, their silk
stem.

 

關於愛

1
不    當你走向她
(哦她如是告訴我)我只好求助於
她    她    她    她:虛空:

黑洞獨自坍塌
在白色潺湲的水流下

2
「輕如同孩童杯中的牛奶,
我將把你舉在唇邊,
我將餵養你,」溫柔的黑醍醐
談論著愛,母親,醍醐之上帝,
母親,一切溫柔之莖。

3
牛奶之光
銀子般的路
投在水上的絲帶,你怎樣
跟隨你的腳步跨越我的嘴,
跨越我的頭發;

水珠,
明亮而高貴的光之項鏈,你怎樣
用你的線將我穿起,穿起
我的雙唇,它們絲綢的
莖。

翻譯 © 史春波

THE NEEDLE NORTH

I had a boat
lost the food
and the shoes

Hollow wrist
fill it with food
fill it with shoes

Some say we rise like dots into the sky
Walking through the snow
the world begins to whirl

from this immortal coil
to that immortal coil

We whirl now into deadwood
but fire inside
                            dead wood but fire

 

指北針

我曾有一艘船
遺失了食物
和鞋子

枯空的手腕
用食物注滿它
用鞋子注滿它

有人說我們像升向天空的小圓點
在大雪中穿行
世界開始打旋

從一個不朽的皮囊
到另一個不朽的皮囊

現在我們進入死木的漩渦
裏面有火
                    死  木  有  火

翻譯 © 史春波

譯注:「mortal coil」出自莎士比亞《哈姆雷特》,指人類終有一死的軀體,朱生豪譯為「腐朽的皮囊」,詩人在此反其意用之,即「immortal coil」,意為「不朽的皮囊」,「coil」的字面意思是盤卷成一圈的線狀物。

WE GO THROUGH OUR MOTHER’S THINGS

When we started that day
to paint snow for earth
and sky for bread
then we knew it was time to light the last candle.
This ring is yours.    This lamp.

 

我們揀選母親的東西

那一天我們開始
用大地的意念畫雪
用面包的意念畫天空
然後我們接受這個時辰,點燃最後一根蠟燭。
這枚戒指給你。這盞燈。

翻譯 © 史春波