Tableau Vert, 1952 | Ellsworth Kelly
©The Art Institute of Chicago Collection
每一次开始
With Every Beginning
唐珺 译
1
爱，本应当
抓住一块木板
或是建造一艘船
来拯救它的子民。
可它像一个随时准备启程的
旅行家，
像跑步运动员的鞋，
喜欢出发，
把流水、
高山、
歌谣
与诗
甩在后方，
去追寻全新的开始
和悲伤的结局。
2
我们不再为他哭泣
我们任凭他离开，
不会像对待贵客那样
把他送到门口。
我们在窗户后观察他，
他拖着行李箱，
回头瞟我们一眼，
以为我们会奔出来
扑在他脚下
求他留下。
我们任凭他离开，
不吵不闹，
忍住几声叹息，
咬一咬嘴唇，
强压几滴眼泪，
去配合他做个受害者，
好似我们已变得
习惯了
他的遗弃。
3
一次次地，我们向他付出，
忘记了过去的伤痛，
坚信我们
这一次可以将他拯救。
我们给他的伤口镀上色彩，
在上面画鲜花。
我们把看似全新的他重新呈现，
就好像他已焕然一新，
心脏即刻可开始跳动。
我们发誓，
我们说服自己
从未有过这番感受，
欣喜自己找到了
可以紧握的人，
可以依偎的人，
可能再次伤害的人。
4
因为他不会永远身散麝香，
因为他总是无法体态轻盈，
因为他有时会筋疲力尽，
因为他张着嘴睡觉，
因为他的头发变白，
因为他的耳朵塞着棉花，
因为他双眸的光亮黯淡，
他海鸥般的锐眼弱散。
因为爱，变老了，
像我们似的，
它会死去。
5
松垮的皮肤，
爱看得见。
下垂的臀部，
爱看得见。
耷拉的胸脯，
爱看得见。
松弛的肚子
和衰老的皱纹，
爱看得见。
爱看得见
发黑的牙齿，
看得见
疤痕和裂口。
只是它视而不见，
知足于其中的美。
6
看看，看看
所有这些伤
都是我在你的战争里所受。
这道深深的暗疤，
是你对十八岁时的我所为。
我流着血，以为自己
即将死去，
发誓自己绝不会再掀起另一场战争。
每一次，你又找到我，
带着那种微笑，
承诺天堂与永恒。
于是我卸下盔甲回归，
你却用言语
竭尽所能地刺痛我，
就像你想让我真的
死去？
我不知道什么奇迹可以拯救我，
是哪门子奇迹让我落入你的手心？
尽管我牢记着你的教训，
然而，看看，看看这最近的一道伤口，
仍然新鲜，
仍然湿润，
仍在流血……
这一次，能不能对我仁慈一些！
你也看见了，
再没有余地
可以多添一道伤。
如果一定要……
让它漂亮些好吗？
7
对于他，我们期待
所有事情。
我们在他肩膀上
放置所有的负担。
他能不能疗愈头痛？
他能不能修复骨折？
他能不能医治压迫？
对于他，我们期待所有事情。
变换海洋的颜色，
不带羽翼的翱翔，
止住风暴、降雨和火焰。
可是，
爱能够治愈爱吗？
呵，就像他真有能力创造奇迹似的。
8
我早就认出她来，
我看着她不可避免地到来，
伪装成一副副我熟悉的面孔，
她竭尽所能地装扮自己，
重复着那几句熟记于心的词语。
她缓缓地、或是迅速地到来，
甚至忘了穿上自己的鞋。
她散发着我熟悉的味道，
像腋下的体味，
或是怀中抚摸猫咪的味道。
我轻拍她的肩膀，
我安抚她，
我对她温柔以待，
我向她俯首乞怜，
我欺骗她，
我哭泣，
我给她时间，可她却不给我。
尾声。
在她的苦涩里
有下一次开始的
模糊滋味。
Love
1.
Love
should have grabbed a board
to float,
or built an ark
to save its subjects,
but like a traveller always outward bound,
like the shoes of a runner,
it prefers to head on out
leaving behind it
rivers,
mountains
songs and entreaties,
to search out
new beginnings
and sad endings.
2.
We weep no more for him,
we let him leave
without accompanying him to the door
as one would a cherished guest.
We watch from behind the curtains
as he drags his suitcase slowly behind him
until he glances back at us,
hoping we’ll run after him,
fall at his feet,
beg him to stay.
We let him go
without a sound─perhaps
a few stifled sighs
a bitten lip
a few tears
to earn being his victims,
as if we were accustomed
to his abandoning us.
3.
Over and over we make the offer,
forgetting old pain,
believing that this time he can be saved.
We hide his wounds with colours,
decorate them with flowers,
we present him
as if he were nine
and was beginning
to beat at time.
We swear,
and we believe ourselves,
that we have never known
such feelings before,
so happy to have found
one who will accept,
one who will cherish
and perhaps one
who will wound
again.
4.
Because he does not always smell
the rose water,
because often he is not
so light,
because he is sometimes
tired
and sleeps
with his mouth open
Because his head is covered with ashes,
because his ears are covered with cotton,
the pilot of his vision weakens,
and he loses the albatross gaze of his eyes
Because love ages him
and like us
he must die
5.
The skin grown soft,
love sees it.
The buttocks sagging,
love sees it.
The empty breasts,
the slack belly
and the wrinkles of age,
love sees it.
Love sees
the blackened teeth
the scars
the stretch marks
the blemished complexion
but
closes its eyes
satisfied
with its own beauty.
6.
Look, look
at all the wounds I have received
in your wars.
This wound, deep and dark,
I got it at 18,
the first time you injured me.
I bled until I thought I might die,
swore I would never again
get into a fight.
But every time you return,
smiling that smile,
promising paradise and eternity,
back I come again
without helmet or armour
and you lunge at me with your words,
stabbing as hard as you can,
as if, truly,
you wished me dead.
I do not know by what miracle
I survive,
nor by what miracle
I fall back into your arena.
Look, look,
this one is still fresh,
still bleeding.
Be gentle, this time…
You see,
I cannot bear another wound.
At the very least, do it nicely.
7.
From him, we expect
everything.
On his shoulders, we can place any weight.
Can he heal diseases?
Can he repair broken bones?
Can he treat rheumatism?
From him we expect
everything:
change the colour of the sea
halt storms in their tracks
extinguish fires…
But,
can love heal love?
Ah, if so
it would be capable of miracles.
8.
The end─
I know it before it comes,
I watch it arrive
in its inevitable manner
disguised under faces
become familiar,
repeating words
I have begun to know by heart.
It comes slowly,
or hastily as if
it had forgotten
to put on its shoes.
The end─
it’s like stroking the fur
of a cat held in my arms.
I trick, I calm, I pamper, I beseech
to quieten it
but love,
love is not listening.
The end
in its bitterness
has the mysterious taste
of some beginning.
Translated from Arabic by Theo Dorgan
我愿做一个女人
[叙利亚] 马兰·阿勒玛斯丽
唐珺 译
我愿做一个
女人
她鲜明的标志
是双唇间永恒的笑靥，
甜蜜的亲吻
滴下了嘴唇。
我愿做一个
女人，
不被加
不被减
不被乘
不被除
不被抹去。
I Would Like to Be A Woman
I would like to be a woman.
Distinguishing mark:
an eternal smile on the lips,
kisses
deep as honey.
I would like to be a woman
to whom
nothing is added,
from whom
nothing is subtracted
not multiplied
not divided
not erased
not overcome.
Translated from Arabic by Theo Dorgan
选自2017年香港国际诗歌之夜出版物《古老的敌意》，由香港诗歌节基金会发行。
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香港诗歌节基金会
The Hong Kong Poetry Festival Foundation is a cultural organization initiated by Chinese poet Bei Dao and established in 2017 in Hong Kong. Our flagship event is the International Poetry Nights in Hong Kong (IPNHK), held every other year since 2009. IPNHK has become Asia’s most influential international poetry festival and one of the world’s most successful international poetry events. IPNHK is also a member of the Word Alliance, which brings together the world’s leading literature festivals.
官方网站 hkpff.com
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