2005-01-02 01:35:34尚未設定
普拉斯215·圖騰Totem
普拉斯詩全編第215首
圖騰
西薇雅•普拉斯
機車在殘害軌道，而銀軌
向遠處延伸。反正它終將被吞沒。
它的逃逸徒勞無益。
夜色降臨時，淹沒的田野其美自現，
黎明的金輝將農夫鍍成肥豬，
在厚厚的外套中鵝行鴨步，
史密斯鄉的幾座白塔就在前方，
腰腿肥碩，滿腦子的血。
切肉刀的閃光不帶一絲仁慈，
屠夫的砍刀低聲發問：“這樣可好？這樣可好？”
大鉢里，野兔流了產，
胎兒的頭位不正，醃在調料中，
剝了毛皮、去了人性。
我們吃了吧，且把它當作柏拉圖的胞衣。
我們吃了它吧，且把它當作基督。
這些是曾經顯要的人物——
有圓圓的眼、有牙齒、有怪異的臉
在一根小棍上，索索有聲喀嚓作響，一條假蛇。
眼鏡蛇膨脹的脖子嚇唬得了我？——
就憑它孤獨的小眼，這群山之目、
這只令蒼穹永恒地穿越其中的眼睛？
這世界熾熱如血且關乎私情，
黎明說這話時滿臉潮紅。
沒有終點站，只有手提箱，
同一個我走出箱子如一件外套抖開，
光禿禿、光閃閃，口袋里揣著願望、
主張和票券、還有短路和折疊鏡。
我是瘋子，蜘蛛揮舞著衆多的手臂高喊。
說實話，真是可怕，
在蒼蠅們的複眼中還會數倍增加。
他們嗡嗡有聲，如心臟先天殘缺的孩童
陷於永無盡頭的網兜，
被繩子繫緊到那一端，那位
死神還拿著多小棍。
1963年1月28日
Totem
The engine is killing the track, the track is silver,
It stretches into the distance. It will be eaten nevertheless.
Its running is useless.
At nightfall there is the beauty of drowned fields,
Dawn gilds the farmers like pigs,
Swaying slightly in their thick suits,
White towers of Smithfield ahead,
Fat haunches and blood on their minds.
There is no mercy in the glitter of cleavers,
The butcher's guillotine that whispers: 'How's this, how's this?'
In the bowl the hare is aborted,
Its baby head out of the way, embalmed in spice,
Flayed of fur and humanity.
Let us eat it like Plato's afterbirth,
Let us eat it like Christ.
These are the people that were important------
Their round eyes, their teeth, their grimaces
On a stick that rattles and clicks, a counterfeit snake.
Shall the hood of the cobra appall me------
The loneliness of its eye, the eye of the mountains
Through which the sky eternally threads itself?
The world is blood-hot and personal
Dawn says, with its blood-flush.
There is no terminus, only suitcases
Out of which the same self unfolds like a suit
Bald and shiny, with pockets of wishes,
Notions and tickets, short circuits and folding mirrors.
I am mad, calls the spider, waving its many arms.
And in truth it is terrible,
Multiplied in the eyes of the flies.
They buzz like blue children
In nets of the infinite,
Roped in at the end by the one
Death with its many sticks.
28 January 1963
圖騰
西薇雅•普拉斯
機車在殘害軌道，而銀軌
向遠處延伸。反正它終將被吞沒。
它的逃逸徒勞無益。
夜色降臨時，淹沒的田野其美自現，
黎明的金輝將農夫鍍成肥豬，
在厚厚的外套中鵝行鴨步，
史密斯鄉的幾座白塔就在前方，
腰腿肥碩，滿腦子的血。
切肉刀的閃光不帶一絲仁慈，
屠夫的砍刀低聲發問：“這樣可好？這樣可好？”
大鉢里，野兔流了產，
胎兒的頭位不正，醃在調料中，
剝了毛皮、去了人性。
我們吃了吧，且把它當作柏拉圖的胞衣。
我們吃了它吧，且把它當作基督。
這些是曾經顯要的人物——
有圓圓的眼、有牙齒、有怪異的臉
在一根小棍上，索索有聲喀嚓作響，一條假蛇。
眼鏡蛇膨脹的脖子嚇唬得了我？——
就憑它孤獨的小眼，這群山之目、
這只令蒼穹永恒地穿越其中的眼睛？
這世界熾熱如血且關乎私情，
黎明說這話時滿臉潮紅。
沒有終點站，只有手提箱，
同一個我走出箱子如一件外套抖開，
光禿禿、光閃閃，口袋里揣著願望、
主張和票券、還有短路和折疊鏡。
我是瘋子，蜘蛛揮舞著衆多的手臂高喊。
說實話，真是可怕，
在蒼蠅們的複眼中還會數倍增加。
他們嗡嗡有聲，如心臟先天殘缺的孩童
陷於永無盡頭的網兜，
被繩子繫緊到那一端，那位
死神還拿著多小棍。
1963年1月28日
Totem
The engine is killing the track, the track is silver,
It stretches into the distance. It will be eaten nevertheless.
Its running is useless.
At nightfall there is the beauty of drowned fields,
Dawn gilds the farmers like pigs,
Swaying slightly in their thick suits,
White towers of Smithfield ahead,
Fat haunches and blood on their minds.
There is no mercy in the glitter of cleavers,
The butcher's guillotine that whispers: 'How's this, how's this?'
In the bowl the hare is aborted,
Its baby head out of the way, embalmed in spice,
Flayed of fur and humanity.
Let us eat it like Plato's afterbirth,
Let us eat it like Christ.
These are the people that were important------
Their round eyes, their teeth, their grimaces
On a stick that rattles and clicks, a counterfeit snake.
Shall the hood of the cobra appall me------
The loneliness of its eye, the eye of the mountains
Through which the sky eternally threads itself?
The world is blood-hot and personal
Dawn says, with its blood-flush.
There is no terminus, only suitcases
Out of which the same self unfolds like a suit
Bald and shiny, with pockets of wishes,
Notions and tickets, short circuits and folding mirrors.
I am mad, calls the spider, waving its many arms.
And in truth it is terrible,
Multiplied in the eyes of the flies.
They buzz like blue children
In nets of the infinite,
Roped in at the end by the one
Death with its many sticks.
28 January 1963