王家新 | Wang Jiaxin

 

 

中文

 

桔子

 

 

整个冬天他都在吃着桔子,

有时是在餐桌上吃,有时是在公共汽车上吃,

有时吃着吃着

雪就从书橱的内部下下来了;

有时他不吃,只是慢慢地剥着,

仿佛有什么在那里面居住。

 

整个冬天他就这样吃着桔子,

吃着吃着他就想起了在一部什么小说中

女主人公也曾端上来一盘桔子,

其中一个一直滚落到故事的结尾……

但他已记不清那是谁写的。

他只是默默地吃着桔子。

他窗台上的桔子皮愈积愈厚。

 

他终于想起了小时候的医院床头

摆放着的那几个桔子,

那是母亲不知从什么地方给他弄来的;

弟弟嚷嚷着要吃,妈妈不让,

是他分给了弟弟;

但最后一个他和弟弟都舍不得吃,

一直摆放在床头柜上。

 

(那最后一个桔子,后来又怎样了呢?)

 

整个冬天他就这样吃着桔子,

尤其是在下雪天,或灰濛濛的天气里;

他吃得特别慢,仿佛

他有的是时间,

仿佛,他在吞食着黑暗;

他就这样吃着、剥着桔子,抬起头来,

窗口闪耀雪的光芒。

 

English

 

TANGERINES

 

 

All winter he eats tangerines,

sometimes at the table,

sometimes on a bus.

Sometimes, as he’s eating,

snow falls inside the bookcase.

Sometimes instead of eating,

he simply peels, slowly,

as if something lives within.

 

So he eats tangerines all winter,

and while eating recalls a novel

in which the heroine also brought to the table

a dish of tangerines. One kept rolling

till the end of the story.

But he can’t name the author.

He simply eats the tangerine in silence.

The peels on his windowsill rise higher.

 

At last an image comes, several tangerines,

in childhood, placed near his hospital bed.

His mother had found them somewhere.

Though his little brother begged one, mother refused.

He shared, but neither

would eat the last tangerine,

which stayed on the night stand.

 

Who knows what became of it?

 

So he eats tangerines all winter,

especially on snowy days, gray days.

He eats slowly, as if

there’s plenty of time,

as if he’s devouring darkness.

He eats, peels, and when he lifts his head,

snow glitters at the window.

 

trans. © Diana Shi & George O’Connell

 

more by Wang Jiaxin

转变 | Transformation

孤堡札记 | Notes from the Castle of Solitude

田园诗 | Pastoral

晚年的帕斯 | The Last Days of Octavio Paz

八月十七日,雨 | August 17th, Rain

变暗的镜子 | Darkening Mirror

第一场雪 | First Snow

悼亡友 | Mourning a Friend

哥特兰的黄昏 | Gotland’s Dusk

Spring 2013

黄灿然 | Huang Canran

Linda Pastan | 琳达·帕斯坦

Images © 莫非 | Mo Fei