博尔赫斯:两首英文诗
2011-02-22 21:03阅读：
Two English Poems
两首英文诗
博尔赫斯
张祈 译
献给贝阿特丽斯·比维洛尼·韦伯斯特·德布尔里奇
I
The useless dawn finds me in a deserted street-
无用的黎明在一个荒凉的街角
corner; I have outlived the night.
发现了我；我比夜晚活得更长久。
Nights are proud waves; darkblue topheavy waves
夜晚是傲慢的波浪；深蓝、头重的波浪
laden with all the hues of deep soil, laden with
装载着土壤深处的一切色调，装载着
things unlikely and desirable.
不可能的、称心如意的事物。
Nights have a habit of mysterious gifts and refusals,
夜晚有着神秘的赠予与拒绝的习惯，
of things half given away, half withheld,
它把一半东西分发掉，一半留下，
of joys with a dark hemisphere. Nights act
它带着那个黑暗半球的快乐。夜晚喜欢
that way, I tell you.
那样做，我对你说。
The surge, that night, left me the customary shreds
那巨浪，那个夜晚，留给我习惯的碎片
and odd ends: some hated friends to chat
和奇数的结尾：和几个讨厌的朋友聊天，
with, music for dreams, and the smoking of
适于做梦的音乐，以及痛苦灰烬的
bitter ashes. The things my hungry hear
t
烟雾。那些我饥饿的心
has no use for.
不需要的事。
The big wave brought you.
那片大浪带来了你。
Words, any words, your laughter; and you so lazily
词语，任何词语，你的笑声；你的慵懒
and incessantly beautiful. We talked and you
而不间断的美丽。 我们谈话，而你
have forgotten the words.
已经忘记了言辞。
The shattering dawn finds me in a deserted street
震颤的黎明发现了我，在我的城市的
of my city.
一个荒凉的街角。
Your profile turned away, the sounds that go to
你的侧影转开，那声音去制造
make your name, the lilt of your laughter:
你的名字，你轻快的笑声：
these are the illustrious toys you have left me.
这是你留给我的了不起的玩具。
I turn them over in the dawn, I lose them, I find
我在黎明中把它们打翻，我丢失它们，我找到
them; I tell them to the few stray dogs and
它们；我把这些讲给几只流浪的狗
to the few stray stars of the dawn.
与黎明中几颗迷路的星星。
Your dark rich life ...
你黑暗而富饶的生命……
I must get at you, somehow; I put away those
不知为什么，我必须了解你； 我放好那些
illustrious toys you have left me, I want your
你留给我的了不起的玩具，我渴望
hidden look, your real smile -- that lonely,
你隐蔽的注视，你真实的笑容——你冰冷的镜子
mocking smile your cool mirror knows.
知道的，那种孤独，嘲弄的微笑。
II
What can I hold you with?
我用什么才能留住你？
I offer you lean streets, desperate sunsets, the
我给你倾斜的街道，绝望的落日，
moon of the jagged suburbs.
凸凹不平的市郊的月亮。
I offer you the bitterness of a man who has looked
我给你一个男人的苦涩，他长久、长久地凝望着
long and long at the lonely moon.
那孤独的月亮。
I offer you my ancestors, my dead men, the ghosts
我给你我的祖先，那些死者，那些活着的幽灵
that living men have honoured in bronze:
拥有着青铜般的光荣：
my father's father killed in the frontier of
我祖父被杀死在布宜诺斯艾利斯
Buenos Aires, two bullets through his lungs,
的边境，两颗子弹穿透了他的肺，
bearded and dead, wrapped by his soldiers in
他死时有胡须，他的士兵们用牛皮
the hide of a cow; my mother's grandfather
包裹着他；我母亲的祖父
--just twentyfour-- heading a charge of
——只有二十四岁—— 在秘鲁领导了一次
three hundred men in Peru, now ghosts on
三百人的冲锋，现在那些幽灵
vanished horses.
依然骑在消失的战马上。
I offer you whatever insight my books may hold,
我给你我的书册中可能拥有的任何洞察力，
whatever manliness or humour my life.
还有我生活里的坚毅和幽默。
I offer you the loyalty of a man who has never
我给你一个男人的忠诚，他从来没有如此
been loyal.
忠诚。
I offer you that kernel of myself that I have saved,
我没有理由地给你我保存起来的
somehow --the central heart that deals not
我自己的本质，那没有用词语
in words, traffics not with dreams, and is
交易过，没有被梦境运输过，没有被
untouched by time, by joy, by adversities.
时间、欢乐与不幸触碰过的心脏的中心。
I offer you the memory of a yellow rose seen at
我给你夕阳下一朵黄玫瑰的记忆，
sunset, years before you were born.
在你还未出生的年代。
I offer you explanations of yourself, theories about
我给你关于你自己的解说，你自己的理论，
yourself, authentic and surprising news of
以及关于你自己的可信而惊讶的
yourself.
消息。
I can give you my loneliness, my darkness, the
我能给你我的寂寞，我的黑暗，
hunger of my heart; I am trying to bribe you
我心底的欲望；我在试着用
with uncertainty, with danger, with defeat.
无常、危险和失败把你收买。
- Jorge Luis Borges (1934)
