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(翻译)John W.Evans诗歌两首  

2010-09-01 18:51:44|  分类: 私人 |  标签: |举报 |字号 订阅

  下载LOFTER 我的照片书  |
 

 

诗二首

牧 歌

 

              22个月

附近的房租在降。

租金到处都在降。能不能

通融一下。

在银行,我恳求出纳员。这家银行

正与街对面的另一家银行商谈合并事项

并以失败告终。我只想在自己的国家拥有一块土地,

在城市的某个地方有个窝。

洗衣店隔壁 酒吧里的鱼

他们知道透明世界的极限吗?

当我妻子死时,我期望,

我们所有人都赞美它的圣名,

使它的权利和荣耀更加确证

尽管如此,我知道生活并没有真正结束,

它将被割裂成两块

自身和外界。现在我爱的女人

已从沦为一无所有的境地中醒悟过来。

当附近的山岗云消雾散

我们徒步穿过她的老街坊

走向城市的最高点。

 

 

 规 模

  

                            19个月

那个春天我追求焦虑的另一面。

我甚至测量出所到之处的精确距离:

你死后的日子,数周里,直到你的生日,

要走多少步才能跨越洲际公园

那里,每隔三星期广告牌就翻动一次

直到奥斯卡节。我多么思念过往的恋情

我多想解释:我思念恋情本身。

那天晚上你哥哥停止数落妻子。

我知道这意味着我必须选择站在哪一边。

我哑然而坐,沉默,朝周遭无奈地笑着

在攀岩场他飞快攀上光滑坚硬的石磴

指尖磨得光滑又麻木。你的外甥

和我,在线注册电子秃鹫游戏

虚拟的家里甚至给每一位家庭成员提供了

独立房间。一周里你兄弟到最后

甚至弓着背在沙发上睡着了。

他说他不想唤醒孩子。

每一次他蹒跚走到药柜边

电视淹没了他的叹息和呻吟。

我坐在房间里细心谛听音乐

我知道我会悲伤。

安眠药把我带进黑暗的世界。

透过玻璃窗可以听见他的卡车引擎死火了4次

在天亮之前,却绕着城市兜圈子。

 

  

    Two Poems

     Eclogue

 

                                Twenty-two Months

Rent in the neighborhood is dropping.
       Rent everywhere is dropping. Can you spare
       a little CHANGE,
       asks the sign where my bank,
       merging with the bank across the street,
       fails. I want to own land in my country.
       I want to make my place in this city certain. 
       The fish in the bar next to the laundromat: 
       do they know the limits of their translucent world?
        When my wife died I thought,
        All within us praise his holy name,
        His power and glory ever more proclaimed
.
        Even then I knew that life didn't really end,
        that it would fissure into two places,
        inside and out. The woman I love now
        distinguishes absence from loss.
        When there is no fog on a nearby hill
        we walk through her old neighborhood
        to the city's highest point.


 

      Scale

                                   Nineteen Months

That spring I pursued the other side of anxiety.
        I measured exact distances wherever I went: 
       days since your death, weeks until your birthday,
        how many steps it took to cross the interstate park
        where every three weeks the billboard changed
        until Oscar season. How I missed being in love.
        How I wanted to explain: I miss being in love.
        The night your brother stopped talking to his wife 
        I knew it meant I'd have to choose sides.
        I sat dumb and silent, smiling weakly at everything.
        At the climbing gym he got faster up the hard-candy steps,
        his fingertips smooth and dull. Your nephew
        and I registered online an animatronic vulture
        whose virtual home contained separate rooms
        for each family member. The week he finally
        blew out his back your brother slept on the sofa.
        He said he didn't want to wake the kids.
        Each time he hobbled to the medicine cabinet
        the television drowned out his sighs and moans.
        I sat in my room listening carefully to music
        I knew would make me weep.
        Sleeping pills erased the dark room.
        Through the window his truck engine turned over four times 
        before it began its morning loop around the city.

 

  

 

 

 

 

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