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译诗:玛丽·奥利弗(Mary Oliver)诗歌13首(二)

2015-01-05 21:06阅读:
玛丽·奥利弗/
乔国永/


译诗:玛丽·奥利弗(Mary <wbr>Oliver)诗歌13首(二)

    
玛丽·奥利弗(Mary Oliver, 1935- )1935910
日生于美国俄亥俄州。她的诗歌多次获奖,其中包括国家图书奖和普利策诗歌奖(1984年)。主要诗集有:《夜晚的旅行者》(The Night Traveler1978),《美国原貌》(American Primitive1983),《灯光的屋宇》(House of Light1990),《新诗选》(New and Selected Poems1992),《白松:诗和散文诗》(White Pine: Poems and Prose Poems1994)等。
  奥利弗被冠以“自然诗人”的美誉,她的诗歌以书写自然著称。在将近25年的时光中,她像隐士一样生活,很少将作品示人。“她专注于自然中明亮的时刻,欣赏那种简单深刻的美和事物外表下隐藏的神秘与惊奇。”     

The Buddha's Last Instruction

'Make of yourself a light'
said the Buddha,
before he died.
I think of this every morning
as the east begins
to tear off its many clouds
of darkness, to send up the first
signal-a white fan
streaked with pink and violet,
even green.

An old man, he lay down
between two sala trees,
and he might have said anything,
knowing it was his final hour.
The light burns upward,
it thickens and settles over the fields.
Around him, the villagers gathered
and stretched forward to listen.
Even before the sun itself
hangs, disattached, in the blue air,
I am touched everywhere
by its ocean of yellow waves.
No doubt he thought of everything
that had happened in his difficult life.

And then I feel the sun itself
as it blazes over the hills,
like a million flowers on fire-
clearly I'm not needed,
yet I feel myself turning
into something of inexplicable value.
Slowly, beneath the branches,
he raised his head.
He looked into the faces of that frightened crowd.


佛的遗训
  
死前,
佛说:
“把你自己看作一束光”。
每天早晨,
当东方开始
扯去层层黑云,
发出第一个
信号——如一把布满粉、紫
甚至是绿色条纹的扇子时,
我都会想起这句话。

一位老人躺在
两棵菩提树之间,
他或许已说了些什么,
他知道这是他最后的时刻。
光焰升腾,
逐渐浓厚,密聚在田野之上。
村民们围在他周围
侧耳倾听。
太阳尚未
升悬于蓝色的天空时,
我的全身就已浸没于
它黄色波浪的海洋。
无疑,他想起了
他艰难一生里所发生的一切。

随后,我感觉到太阳
像无数火焰之花
在高山之上熊熊燃烧——
此时,我已无足轻重,
但我觉得自己正在变成
让人费解的珍贵之物。
枝条下,
他缓缓地抬起头,
注视起人群中一张张惊恐的脸。
  


August

When the blackberries hang
swollen in the woods, in the brambles
nobody owns, I spend

all day among the high
branches, reaching
my ripped arms, thinking

of nothing, cramming
the black honey of summer
into my mouth; all day my body

accepts what it is. In the dark
creeks that run by there is
this thick paw of my life darting among

the black bells, the leaves; there is
this happy tongue.


八月
    
当林中的黑莓丰盈地
挂在不属于任何人的
枝头上,我整天

都在高高的
枝桠间,伸长
我划伤的手臂,

什么也不想,只顾把
夏日的黑蜜
塞进嘴中;整天,我的身体

都在顺其自然。在流经的
幽暗的溪流中,有
我生命的利爪,不停地在

黑色的钟状果子和树叶间横行;还有
这快乐的舌头。  
  
  

Happiness

In the afternoon I watched
the she-bear; she was looking
for the secret bin of sweetness -
honey, that the bees store
in the trees soft caves.
Black block of gloom, she climbed down
tree after tree and shuffled on
through the woods. And then
she found it! The honey-house deep
as heartwood, and dipped into it
among the swarming bees - honey and comb
she lipped and tongued and scooped out
in her black nails, until
maybe she grew full, or sleepy, or maybe
a little drunk, and sticky
down the rugs of her arms,
and began to hum and sway.
I saw her let go of the branches,
I saw her lift her honeyed muzzle
into the leaves, and her thick arms,
as though she would fly -
an enormous bee
all sweetness and wings -
down into the meadows, the perfections
of honeysuckle and roses and clover -
to float and sleep in the sheer nets
swaying from flower to flower
day after shining day.


幸福
  
下午,我在观察
这只母熊;她在寻找
隐秘的蜂蜜的甜箱子,
它被蜜蜂储藏在
柔软的树洞中。
像一大块黑影,她一棵树一棵树地
爬上爬下,在林子里
慢吞吞地穿行。终于
她找到了——深藏在树心的
蜂房。爪子伸进去,
在蜂拥的蜜蜂和蜂巢中,
她用嘴拱,用舌头舔,
用黑色的爪子挖,最后
或许是吃饱了,或许是困了,
也可能是有些醉了,觉得黏糊了,
她抽出毛茸茸的胳膊,
开始哼哼着,扭动起来。
我看到她松开树枝,
抬起拱进叶子里粘满蜜蜂的嘴
和粗壮的胳膊,
仿佛要飞起来——
像一只巨大的蜜蜂
拥有甜蜜和翅膀——
飞进草地,飞进
金银花、玫瑰花和三叶草的完美之中——
摇荡、栖息在吊网里,
在花间摇摆着,  
度过一个又一个明媚的日子。
  


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Hello, sun in my

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