.
The ever-hooded, tragic-gestured sea
Was merely a place by which she walked to sing.
Whose spirit is this? we said, because we knew
It was the spirit that we sought and knew
That we should ask this often as she sang.
If it was only the dark voice of the sea
That rose, or even colored by many waves;
If it was only the outer voice of sky
And cloud, of the sunken coral water-walled,
However clear, it would have been deep air,
The heaving speech of air, a summer sound
Repeated in a summer without end
And sound alone. But it was more than that,
More even than her voice, and ours, among
The meaningless plungings of water and the wind,
Theatrical distances, bronze shadows heaped
On high horizons, mountainous atmospheres
Of sky and sea.
It was her voice that made
The sky acutest at its vanishing.
She measured to the hour its solitude.
She was the single artificer of the world
In which she sang. And when she sang, the sea,
Whatever self it had, became the self
That was her song, for she was the maker. Then we,
As we beheld her striding there alone,
Knew that there was never a world for her
Except the one she sang and, singing, made.
Ramon Fernandez, tell me, if you know,
Why, when the singing ended and we turned
Toward the town, tell why the glassy lights,
The lights in the fishing boats at anchor there,
As the night descended, tilting in the air,
Mastered the night and portioned out the sea,
Fixing emblazoned zones and fiery poles,
Arranging, deepening, enchanting night.
Oh! Blessed rage for order, pale Ramon,
The maker's rage to order words of sea
Words of the fragrant portals, dimly-starred,
And of ourselves and our origins,
In ghostlier demarcations, keener sounds.
“西尾岛有感于秩序”
她超越海的精灵而歌唱。
海水不曾形成想法或述说的声音，
仿佛一具整全的尸体，挥舞着
空洞的衣袖；但它模拟的涌动
却发出不绝的呼叫，时时喊一声，
不似我们，然而我们明了，
与人无关，属于那真确的汪洋。
海不是面具。她也一样不是。
因为她逐字吟唱，但即使
她完整地听到自己的歌声，
歌声与海水却并未交响。
也许在她的吐字里鼓动着
汹涌的海涛和叱咤的风
但我们听见的是她，不是海洋。
因为她编造了她自己唱的歌曲。
而那总是兜着帽子又悲怆作态的海浪
只不过是她徘徊吟唱的地方。
我们问，究竟是什么精灵？因为深知
这就是我们的追寻，深知
她的歌声不息，我们就要不停地追问。
倘若只是海暗沉的声音
响起，就算染上了波涛的颜色；
倘若只是从天空和云层传来
的声音，或来自海底深水围绕的珊瑚，
那么无论多么清晰，也只是深层的空气，
嘶哑的气流，夏日的声音
在夏日里无休止地重复，
孤立的声音。但其实不至于此，
甚至超乎她的，我们的声音，在这
海水与风无意义的运动中，还有
适合看戏的距离，天际高耸的
青铜色投影，和那海天之间
巍峨的气象。
是她的声音让
天空在消逝的刹那最为尖锐。
她赋予了时光孤寂苍茫。
她歌唱所在的世界，她一个人
缔造。她唱起歌来，海，
不管它原有怎样的自我，就变成一个自我，
那就是她的歌，因为她创造她的歌。于是，
看她在那里独自行走，
便知道对于她来说，根本没有别的世界，
除了她唱的那个，她在歌声中缔造的那个。
雷蒙·费南德兹，告诉我，如果你知道，
为什么，什么时候歌声会停，我们转身
往城里走，告诉我为什么眩亮的灯火，
那边停泊的渔船上的灯火，
夜幕降临的时候，在空中摇摆，
主宰黑夜，划分海水，
确立光照的区域和火红的桅杆，
编排，加深，迷魅着黑暗。
哦！天赐的渴求秩序的激情，苍白的雷蒙，
创造者的激情，整饬海的语言，
芬芳但星光黯淡的门庭的语言，
还有关于我们和我们起源的语言，
虽然界域愈发森然，声音却要更加尖锐。_______________________________________________________________________________
Title:
面对滔滔的大海，有所感触和哲思，古今诗人概不能免。在西方，这一传统大约滥觞于古希腊的爱琴海文明。人们普遍相信，大海是生命的来源，一切真知和奥秘的永恒所在。这不，站在美国大陆的天涯海角，眺望着汹涌的西太平洋，我们的诗人Stevens也不禁思潮澎湃。时间是1934年，战争的创伤还隐隐作痛，而风雨欲来的恶兆又让人忐忑不安。难道世道真的要像眼前这翻腾海水一样，永不止歇吗？惊涛骇浪中到底有没有秩序和安宁？
1st stanza:
She sang beyond the genius of the sea.
The water never formed to mind or voice,
Like a body wholly body, fluttering
Its empty sleeves; and yet its mimic motion
Made constant cry, caused constantly a cry,
That was not ours although we understood,
Inhuman, of the veritable ocean.
就在陷入沉思之际，诗人突然瞥见一名女子，沿着海滩踽踽独行，嘴里还不时哼着歌曲。那歌声虽然轻柔，但在海涛的轰鸣中却依然清晰可辨(“The
song and water were not medleyed sound”)。而且听来仿佛美人鱼或海妖的歌吟(enchanting
or bewitching songs)，甚是奇妙! 相较之下，海浪的声音却毫无生气(“inhuman”), 没有想法也不会开口
(“The water never formed to mind or
voice”)，让诗人觉得十分疏离。放眼望去，整一片汪洋俨然一具漂浮的尸体 (“a body wholly body”: holy
body? Hole-y body?)。随浪摆动的衣袖，只是证实了沉沉的空洞和死气(“Like a body”
“empty”)。然而，这半死的海水居然还不肯消歇；不断地在诗人眼前忸怩作态(“mimic motion”),
发出与人无关的声响(“Made constant cry…/Inhuman…”
)。诗人当然明白(“understood”)那声音里的逗引: 海洋总是以 “the veritable
ocean”自诩，并用它的所谓verity拿来做诱饵。可是这位诗人并不上钩。他深知海的鼓噪终究不是人的声音(“That was not
ours”)。就算那声音真的来自 “the genius of the sea”，但还是不及那女子的浅吟低唱：她的歌声响遏海魂(She
sang beyond the genius of the sea.)!
读后感(Stanzas 2,3,4)2nd and 3rd stanzas:
The sea was not a mask. No more was she.
The song and water were not medleyed sound
Even if what she sang was what she heard,
Since what she sang was uttered word by word.
It may be that in all her phrases stirred
The grinding water and the gasping wind;
But it was she and not the sea we heard.
For she was the maker of the song she sang.
The ever-hooded, tragic-gestured sea
Was merely a place by which she walked to sing.
Whose spirit is this? we said, because we knew
It was the spirit that we sought and knew
That we should ask this often as she sang.
If it was only the dark voice of the sea
That rose, or even colored by many waves;
If it was only the outer voice of sky
And cloud, of the sunken coral water-walled,
However clear, it would have been deep air,
The heaving speech of air, a summer sound
Repeated in a summer without end
And sound alone. But it was more than that,
More even than her voice, and ours, among
The meaningless plungings of water and the wind,
Theatrical distances, bronze shadows heaped
On high horizons, mountainous atmospheres
Of sky and sea.
于是，诗人不禁要说：大海，你不是戏子。你不必总是戴着演戏的帽子, 摆出悲剧里伶人的姿态 (“ever-hooded,
tragic-gestured”, 3rd stanza)。纵使你有表演的声势(“plungings of water and the
wind”, 3rd stanza)，这海天之间也具备最堂皇的场地和布景(“Theatrical distances, bronze
shadows heaped/On high horizons, mountainous atmospheres/Of sky and
sea,” 3rd stanza)，但这一切还是没有意义(“meaningless”, 3rd
stanza)。西方的戏剧理论里自古就有“艺术模仿现实”(“mimic
”)的说法。尤其是古希腊的悲剧，一直被认为是最高的艺术形式之一，因为它镜鉴人生，映照真理 (mimic – mirror
reality)。人们笃信，伶人的面具和剧场布景(一个大面具)的背后，藏着至高至深的真理(the Truth, Ultimate
Reality, His Word, or Plato’s “the Form”, etc.).
相应的，根据这源远流长的理性主义传统，mask/nature 就不是遮掩，而是真道向世人较为明白的彰显,
也是所有人(包括诗人)把握真实的唯一通路。
然而，我们的诗人却看透了这付假面。无论那声音是来自云天深海(“the dark voice of the sea”, “the
outer voice of sky/And cloud, of the sunken coral water-walled”),
无论它有多么深沉 (“deep air”), 多么清晰(“However
clear”)，在诗人听来都只是夏日里单调(“repeated”)孤独(“sound alone”)的 “inhuman”
heaving speech of air罢了。所以，诗人一开始就几乎不客气宣称：海不是掩藏真理的面具，请不要在我面前演戏(“The
sea was not a mask.”)
诗人也早就听出，那女子的歌与海的声音并不相融(“The song and water were not medleyed
sound.”) 有时候，海的声音会介入/夹杂在歌声里(“It may be that in all her phrases
stirred/The grinding water and the gasping
wind”)，藉此宣告它有意义的存在。然而这一切都是徒然。相形之下，女子的歌声尽管轻幽，诗人却听得清清楚楚，一字不漏(“[heard]
word by word”)。这是为何呢？原来，诗人在女子的歌声里听到了人类矢志追寻的精神(“It was the spirit
that we sought.”): 她唱的歌由她自己编创(“For she was the maker of the song
she sang.”)，而海却只有模仿的本领(“mimic”)。
4th stanza:
It was her voice that made
The sky acutest at its vanishing.
She measured to the hour its solitude.
She was the single artificer of the world
In which she sang. And when she sang, the sea,
Whatever self it had, became the self
That was her song, for she was the maker. Then we,
As we beheld her striding there alone,
Knew that there never was a world for her
Except the one she sang and, singing, made.
那歌唱的女子能发出属于自己的声音(“her voice”)，是“the maker of the song she
sang.”。然而还不止于此(“it was more than that”)，她那声音背后的精神(“the
spirit”)还有更奇妙的作为：女子在歌声中改天换地(“The sky” “the hour”), 赋予世界各种意义，包括给the
sea 一个自我。更确切地说，但她唱起歌来，她便是这世界唯一的创造者(“She was the single artificer of
the world/In which she sang.) 。歌声以外不存在另外的世界(“there never was a
world for her/Except the one she sang and, singing,
made.)。而海边不过是她歌唱创造的地点罢了(“merely a place by which she walked to
sing.”)
歌唱的女子既然缔造了她的世界，是maker, artificer，她又哪里还需要什么mask呢? Stevens
说，她当然不是面具(“No more was
she.”)，因为她自己就是意义和秩序的创造者！很显然，这善歌的女子就是诗人的化身(singer/poet):
两者都是创造者；都具有同样的spirit, 同样的能力/使命，即6th stanza 里提到的“Blessed rage for
order…/The maker's rage to order words…” 原来，人类矢志追求的精神就是一种 blessed
rage。Rage在英文里为多义词：它既是面对邪恶不公的义愤(indignation), 也是积极入世的承担(violent
action), 更是追求崇高，永不泯灭的激情(passion,enthusiasm)。
那歌唱的女子又仿佛现代的缪斯女神(Muse – musical -
poetic)。她走在除魅(demystified)的海滩，头上也没有古希腊神话中常见的神圣光环，然而对于诗人，她却是现时代最高的女神！她所以是goddess是因为她创造；更确切的说，她藉着歌唱，独自一人在文明的废墟上(除魅的海滩)再造另一个世界(“singing,
made”)。她又像歌德所指的那永恒的女性，引领人类不断地上升(“The eternal female leads us
upward.”)。在那低落凋敝的时代，这么一位现代的女神又怎能不让诗人崇敬膜拜？
On Stanza 55th stanza:
Ramon Fernandez, tell me, if you know,
Why, when the singing ended and we turned
Toward the town, tell why the glassy lights,
The lights in the fishing boats at anchor there,
As the night descended, tilting in the air,
Mastered the night and portioned out the sea,
Fixing emblazoned zones and fiery poles,
Arranging, deepening, enchanting night.
当永恒的女性在海边歌吟的时候，一位男子却掉转了头往城里走。浪漫的诗人Wordsworth很欣赏孤独刈麦女的歌声，以至许久那歌声还在他的心头萦绕。可这位男子却绝无这样的雅兴，他甚至厌恶那女子的歌声。Ramon
Fernandez 何许人也？据说，他是当时一位活跃于欧美的法国文评家。他长期以“反浪漫主义”的姿态自居(引自王敖)，甚至撰文坦承
'I Came Near Being a Fascist.'
然而，30年代法国工人暴动发生以后，他却一夜之间声称自此转向无产阶级的革命阵营。这自然引起知识界的一片挞伐之声。
Fernandez并不讳言他有一种凡事理论化的倾向；因为这种倾向，他总在寻找最为根本狂飙的解决之道('a professional
fondness for theorizing, which tends to make one highly susceptible
to original 'solutions’', from James
Longenbach)。他觉得海边，一位女子的歌声里找不到他要寻觅的，于是他毅然转身，在暮色中向城里走去 –
至少城里有光亮！就连港湾里也有渔火。那渔火在夜幕前闪亮(“glassy
lights”)，映照在海面上，又带来另一番光明的景象。在Fernandez的眼里，这渔火岂不就是暗夜里的明灯？不就是他上下求索的“original
‘solutions’”？根据 M.H. Abrams的说法，除了充当the mirror
的角色之外(见上文)，文艺家里选择做或自命为the
lamp的，也一样大有人在。Fernandez先生大概就是以“智慧灯”来自我期许的吧。尤其是在这无边的黑暗里，一盏灯兴许能拯救些生命与绝望。
然而，一样独立于夜色中，诗人Stevens 在海边看到的却是另一幅狰狞惊心的画面。一等夜色降临,
渔火就不停地在黑夜里摇摆(“tilting in the air”)。它霸道地主宰黑夜(“Mastered the
night”)，肆意割裂海面(“portioned out the
sea”)。它无理地划定(“Fixing”)“光辉的区域”和“炽烈的桅杆”-
这不禁让我们想起几年以后的法西斯帝国。难道“emblazoned zones” 就是所谓雅利安人高贵的文明领地？ 难道“fiery
poles” 就是那纳粹王国的轴心？更有甚者，那glassy
lights非但不驱除眼里心头的黑暗，反倒凭着它的衬托加深夜色(“deepening”)，还对黑暗做诡谲的编排(“Arranging”)，给黑暗增添魅惑的气氛
(“enchanting”)。诗人于是惊呼，这渔火趁着暗夜在行怎样的勾当？这又是怎样黑暗的“智慧明灯”？
Stevens也要将那位Fernandez先生找来拷问：难道这就是你渴望的光明？瞧，你的lamp带来的只有更深的黑暗和混乱！大海，Stop
pretending to be a mask or mirror! 而你，Fernandez先生，这世界不需要你的 tilting
glassy lights! 我们要再听到那停止的歌声，那女子口里创造的歌声！
On Stanza 6 6th stanza:
Oh! Blessed rage for order, pale Ramon,
The maker's rage to order words of the sea,
Words of the fragrant portals, dimly-starred,
And of ourselves and of our origins,
In ghostlier demarcations, keener sounds.
在歌声里，那女子便是造物的女神(“The
maker”)。她创造了她的世界：那里没有自欺虚幻的mirror，也没有自傲狂妄的lamp。那里一切都井然有序(order)，至少,
保有对秩序红热的追求和激情(“Blessed rage for order;”
rage当然是火红的！)，容不下半点苍白的无力和疲惫(“pale
Ramon”)。诗人惊喜地发现，如果说追求秩序的激情是这世界的栋梁支柱，那么建筑的材料便是那无数的words，多样的words。它们外来自深海晶天(“of
the sea” “of the fragrant portals”)，内来自人类自身和他的原初(“of ourselves and
of our origins”)。它们既是女子口中的歌，也是文人手下的诗… 当黑暗的领域扩展，黑暗的界限更加森然(“ghostlier
demarcations”), 诗人/歌者的职任是要发出更为尖锐的声音(“keener sounds”).
Order来自words/sounds!
诗人Stevens不想做一面镜子：那里面映照的只有混乱与丑恶，而不是什么世道人心的order.
他也不想自诩为暗夜里的一盏智慧明灯：那灯只会让夜更加黑暗。他要做一个建筑家，用他的words and sounds
另建一个秩序井然的世界。早期浪漫主义者(e.g. Wordsworth), 在自然与心灵之间找到了神秘美妙的融合对应(fusion
of and correspondence between nature and mind),
并用他们的诗笔书写他们的情与思。Stevens也一样有浪漫的情怀，然而此时此地，他发现周遭的世界已经变了，更确切地说，是人心惟危，而歌声已如广陵散绝(“the
singing ended”)。那种美妙的融合他再也体会不到 –
这是何等空虚可笑的浪漫！好在，眼前还有一位陌生的女子在海边独自歌唱；仿佛一位现代的缪思女神，陪伴孤独的他，浇灌他干渴的诗情,
启迪(inspire)他重造一个诗与歌的新秩序(a new order of words)。这岂不是另一种浪漫主义？！
