▲ Zilia Sánchez
Antigone (1970)
写给复制人的十二首情歌（节选）
陈克华
1. 来，我来教你爱
来，让我来教你爱──
虽然你可能早已娴熟或根本
缺少这个基因──自从地球
第一百万只熊猫被成功复制
且不再吃素的那天起
我的手表和人造卫星的轨道便同步行走
指引我每天在上班途中
做出不被追踪的连续三个回转──
是的，此刻爱必须极度密藏
且伪装，像在喇嘛的瓮中发现的
绝种银杏的种子，我们埋在露台上
像暗自在公寓里培植大麻
让他在时间里秘密发芽，枝干如肺叶向上膨胀
绿色血脉连通天空和地心──
是的，一如矿物不能觉察植物
你亦无法感知人类的爱
但布满地球的银杏如一句呼应天地的咒语
你也当呼应着爱
发出第一声复制人的语言：
唵。
3. 让我为你解释为什么你没有肚脐
请容我，让我 为你解释
为什么你没有肚脐──
一个如此可爱的凹陷
羞怯 畏寒 而敏感的伤口──我有
而你没有；到底
是谁抹去这道神的戳记 或说是动物的进化标帜
──但从此你无瑕的小腹 于我
是一种平坦而荒芜的奇迹──当我
脸颊紧贴在你起伏如浪的腹肌
当我倾听着你翻滚呻吟的肠道
感觉你缺乏子宫记忆的身体
像一座失去恒星的星系
瘫软，柔顺，涣散
在滑翔天际的肋骨
与美草蔓生的 温暖低缓的耻尻之间
我反复的阅读因为少了一个标点
而充满歧义：
我爱你。
具体 确实
一如我的遗憾：
你不曾存在的肚脐。
4. 我原以为我们都是空的
我原以为我们都是空的
从你金属镌刻般的双瞳望进去
我原期待会有某种神谕般的文字出现
像光年外的银河尽头
立在太空船坟场里的碑文，那般古老而难解──
我原以为那就会是宇宙将再次轮回的秘密
由无法分解的微粒子
而原子 而分子
而细胞 而人 而星河
而宇宙──都会在我们
给予对方一个完美的凝视时
曼陀罗般清晰而完整呈现
──但我看见了你如镜的瞳孔当中
自己的眼睛如锈坏的钥匙孔
那样哀伤地空洞着：
我爱你。因为我看见了
你空掉的灵魂
和我空掉的灵魂
将在下一个倥偬动荡的轮回里
如明镜对立
以及贯穿其间时空的
炯炯灼烧的盟誓。
5. 你真的记不起明天我的样子
你是真的记不起明天我的样子？
那应该是缝在你的DNA上的印记
你应该在第一次看见我时
便立刻记起我是你的昨日
昔在 现在与永在的原作──
但你就以为我是你一份模糊不清的影印
一张字迹淡掉的传真纸
（发讯的号码未能显示）
你将如爱你自己一般地爱我
像幼兽爱上第一次睁眼看见的
──驱使所有你能驱使的，你将走近我
像打量着一道精心设下的陷阱
那般轻微困惑，小心翼翼
又完全矇昧于命运
余悸犹存地偷偷靠近我
像靠近曾经捕捉过你的致命的陷阱──而爱
爱在你耳边呵气
如舌鼓动：
拨开那层层伪装，看见你自己……
6. 其实你我并非唯一
其实你我皆并非唯一。但
我们一直都如此误以为
我们终不至在腋下或鼠蹊或脑后
发现自己的型号或编号──我们
是彼此的唯一但我们自己
却并不是。宇宙像蜂蚁之巢
我们终日碌碌，辨识着生存
与生殖的标记并因此而无上
快乐着──请你不要因此否认
你并非唯一，在穿着制服的群众间
我们背负着遥远的欲望及多余的口粮
工蚁般相遇着工蚁
工蜂般爱恋着工蜂
服膺着劳动与生殖，信仰着秩序和忠诚
──我爱你。我同时听见
全宇宙间无数个
我爱你，沸沸扬扬地彼此复制
淹没了
暗夜里理应悄静寒凉的
复制人复制人的巢窠。
7. 是刺青，还是胎痣
是刺青还是胎痣？我看见
你蜕下衣物之后的裸体平原
山峦与幽谷，湖泊与天空──你说
你好想拥有一片湛蓝的刺青却甚至
无法拥有一道湖青的胎痣你
是如此完美无瑕地裸体着如一片
不含任何阡陌的九月的小麦田
不容许外星人染指不承认
那一夜之间烙下的无数麦田圈
充满高级数学物理定律或天文学意涵的联想
或者神谕或者攸关人类生存的未来警语
或者
仅仅是一把打开与外星文明沟通的钥匙
──但你，只是如此完美地裸体着
不容负载任何肉体以外
任何文明的讯息：
我爱你
且已至深
容不下你我之间 如谜的一切
一片刺青一道胎痣或者一块麦田圈
自我昨夜行过的阡陌隐约浮现……
10. 如何召唤下个世纪的高潮
如何召唤下个世纪的高潮？你是无性生殖技术
的祭司 或羔羊？
但你只是以身试法般地
爱我，像幽浮
巨大如云层的幽浮降落
我被爱抚太久太频繁的衰老体表
掠夺我的全部触觉在我渴望被殖民的身体
撒下如群蝗组成的部队
疾行过暗夜里独醒的我
──从此我是寸草不生的
即使是在我的梦境
我渴求的荒凉 焚烧彻底 焦土入地六呎
的那种寸草不生
是的你必须如是
降临我
如诅咒里的瘟疫 下世纪的幽浮
预言如是盛大：汝
也必将如下个世纪的高潮
盛大降临。
Twelve Love Songs for a Cyborg (Selected)
Chen Ko Hua
1. Come Let Me Teach You How to Love
Come let me teach you how to love─
although you may have been familiar with this idea or
are genetically predisposed to not loving─back on earth
the millionth panda was successfully cloned
and now eats meat─
my watch synchronizes with a satellite
that guides me every day on the way to work
recommending a circuitous route
that allows me to shake off any of my stalkers─
yes, now we must hide our love, disguise it
and find it again like finding the seeds of an extinct ginkgo tree
in the lama’s urn we buried on our terrace
love hidden like the secret weed plant in the apartment─
our love sprouts in secret too, its branches swelling, lunglike
green blood, veins connecting sky and core─
alas, it’s true. Like a mineral that cannot recognize the plant
it calls home, you will never love a human.
Every extant ginkgo tree casts a spell that echoes the world.
You should echo me, love.
Now, speak the first word of the Androids:
Om.
3. I’ll Explain Why You Have No Belly Button
Please allow me to explain
why you have no belly button─
such a lovely pit
shy, intolerant of cold, a sensitive wound─
I have one but you don’t.
Who has erased this stigma, the evolutionary stamp of the mammal?
No matter. Now, your flawless belly is for me
a flat and deserted miracle─when my cheek
lies on your billowing abdominal waves─
when I listen to your groaning intestines
and feel your body without uterine memory
like a galaxy without stars
weak, supple, logarithmic.
Between two ribs gliding through the sky
and the warm, abashed hip where I graze
multiple meanings are created I read you
without punctuation─
I love it
specifically and surely
as I love my own regrets─
your non-existent belly button.
4. Our Insides Are Emptied
Our insides are emptied…
Looking into your metal engraved eyes
I expected a sort of oracle to emerge
ancient and cryptic, like an inscription standing
in the spaceship’s cemetery
far beyond our galaxy endless light-years away
I thought I’d find the secret of the universe’s reincarnation
in your eyes─
evolving from nonbiodegradable particles
atoms, molecules
cells, into humans, galaxies
a whole universe─all would be
represented in the glorious mandala
of our shared gaze
─but every time I look into your reflecting eyes
It’s like looking down a rusty sad
empty keyhole:
and I love you. Because I can see
both your and my emptied souls
being reincarnated in the turbulence of life
our movements the same, mirroring each other
our oaths burning
through time and space
5. Will You Remember How I look Tomorrow
Will you remember how I look tomorrow?
This imperfect question should be sewn into your DNA.
When you first saw me, you immediately
recalled I was your “yesterday”─
the original work which was, which is to come─
then you were convinced I was a vague copy of you
a piece of fax paper with faint handwriting
where the sender’s number could not be displayed─
you will love me as you love yourself
like a cub opening its eyes and
falling in love with the first thing it sees─
you drive all you can drive you approach me
with care looking at me as though I were a well-designed trap
slightly confused, cautious
completely ignorant of my fate
coming close to me even fearing me
as you fear another deadly trap that caught you once─but love
love’s breath tickles your ear
my tongue stirs to
remove a layer from your disguise. Just look at yourself…
6. Actually, You and I Are Not the Only Beings
Actually, you and I are not the only beings
who have had the thought that someday we will find
our models and serial numbers
in armpits, groins, or the back sides of our heads─
well, perhaps we are the only ones here that think so
but we are not alone in the universe
the universe is like a nest of ants
we work all day, recognizing the marks of
survival and reproduction and feeling extraordinarily happy─
please do not deny that you are not the only one─
among the uniform crowds, we are burdened
by our distant desires and extra rations
a worker ant meets a worker ant
a worker bee loves a worker bee
obey the orders of labor and reproduction
believe in rules and loyalty
─I love you. At the same time I heard
countless clamoring “I love you” echo
through the universe, each instance copying the other
drowning the quiet and cold nest of
androids in darkness
7. Mole or Tattoo
Mole or tattoo? I can see
your body, plain after it sheds its clothes
mountains, valleys, lakes, and sky─you say
you want a blue tattoo but
even you could not have an azure mole, you
nude and impeccable like an unfenced slab of
wheatfield in September
uncontaminated by crop circles overnight─
those implications of more advanced mathematics
scientific laws, astronomies
those oracles, warnings to mankind
keys that open gateways to extraterrestrial civilizations
─but all it is is that you are just impeccably naked
a body without anything other messages
related to any civilization:
I love you
too deeply to
accommodate all mystery things
between you and I
a tattoo, a mole, a crop circle
faintly emerges from the fields
I walked through last night
10. How to Summon the Next Century Orgasm
How to summon the next century orgasm?
You are a priest or a lamb
created through asexual reproduction?
But you use your body to break the law
and love me like a UFO
a UFO like a huge cloud landing
on my aging body that has been lovingly stroked
all too frequently and all too long
plundering all my senses and dispatching
a troop of locusts to fuel my sleepless body
that aspires to be colonized someday
─hereafter I am a wasted territory
even in my dream
a desolate, burned, barren, dry land
I long for your advent
like a plague or a UFO in the next century
as the prophecy is a grand one: you
will gloriously descend into
the next century orgasm
translated by Wen-chi Li & Colin Bramwell
此刻荐读
杨牧丨致天使
严力丨永恒的恋曲
编辑 | 排版：文煜
