[原创]诗歌翻译 Anne Sexton专场

晓雾

YOU, DOCTOR MARTIN——你，马丁医生
YOU, DOCTOR MARTIN by Anne Sexton
You, Doctor Martin, walk
from breakfast to madness. Late August,
I speed through the antiseptic tunnel
where the moving dead still talk
of pushing their bones against the thrust
of cure. And I am queen of this summer hotel
or the laughing bee on a stalk
of death. We stand in broken
lines and wait while they unlock
the door and count us at the frozen gates
of dinner. The shibboleth is spoken
and we move to gravy in our smock
of smiles. We chew in rows, our plates
scratch and whine like chalk
in school. There are no knives
for cutting your throat. I make
moccasins all morning. At first my hands
kept empty, unraveled for the lives
they used to work. Now I learn to take
them back, each angry finger that demands
I mend what another will break
tomorrow. Of course, I love you;
you lean above the plastic sky,
god of our block, prince of all the foxes.
The breaking crowns are new
that Jack wore. Your third eye
moves among us and lights the separate boxes
where we sleep or cry.
What large children we are
here. All over I grow most tall
in the best ward. Your business is people,
you call at the madhouse, an oracular
eye in our nest. Out in the hall
the intercom pages you. You twist in the pull
of the foxy children who fall
like floods of life in frost.
And we are magic talking to itself,
noisy and alone. I am queen of all my sins
forgotten. Am I still lost?
Once I was beautiful. Now I am myself,
counting this row and that row of moccasins
waiting on the silent shelf.
你，马丁医生     著：安妮•塞克斯顿   翻译：晓雾
你，马丁医生，散步
从早餐到疯狂。八月下旬
我快速穿过防腐隧道
那些死去的人在移动，在谈论
他们的骨头对临床治疗的推力
而我是今年夏天酒店的女王
或者死亡茎秆上一只大笑的蜜蜂
晚餐冰冷的大门紧闭
我们站成虚线，等待他们打开门
清点，说一些陈词滥调的话语
然后我们穿着罩衫微笑着移向肉汁
我们坐成排咀嚼，划伤盘子并抱怨
像学校里的粉笔尖叫
在这里，没有刀切割你的喉咙
我做鹿皮鞋整整一个上午。起初
我的手指一直摊开着，揭开了它们
曾经工作的生命。现在，我学会收拢
它们，每一个愤怒的手指
要求我补什么 另一个将在明天被破坏
当然，我爱你;
你依靠在塑料的天空上，
是我们街区的上帝，所有狐狸的王子。
杰克带着破碎的新王冠
你的第三只眼睛在我们中间移动
并点亮孤独的盒子
在我们睡觉或哭泣的地方。
我们是这里的孩子，
我在最好的病房里，长的最高
你的生意是人，
你在疯人院里，意义含混的眼神
在我们住的地方扫视。大厅里
有广播在唤你，那些狐狸孩子们
拥着你跌倒，像生活的冰冷洪水
而我们的魔法自说自话，
嘈杂和孤独。我是一切罪孽的女王
被遗忘了？难道还是我迷失了？
我曾经是美丽的。现在，我是我自己，
计算一排排的鹿皮鞋
等待在沉默的架子上。

晓雾

THESE WOODS ——这片树林
KIND SIR: THESE WOODS  - By Anne Sexton
For a man needs only to be turned around once with his eyes shut in this world to be lost. . . . Not till we are lost . . . do we begin to find ourselves.
                                                                     Thoreau, Walden
Kind Sir: This is an old game
that we played when we were eight and ten.
Sometimes on The Island, in down Maine,
in late August, when the cold fog blew in
off the ocean, the forest between Dingley Dell
and grandfather’s cottage grew white and strange.
It was as if every pine tree were a brown pole
we did not know; as if day had rearranged
into night and bats flew in sun. It was a trick
to turn around once and know you were lost;
knowing the crow’s horn was crying in the dark,
knowing that supper would never come, that the coast’s
cry of doom from that far away bell buoy’s bell
said your nursemaid is gone. O Mademoiselle,
the rowboat rocked over. Then you were dead.
Turn around once, eyes tight, the thought in your head.
Kind Sir: Lost and of your same kind
I have turned around twice with my eyes sealed
and the woods were white and my night mind
saw such strange happenings, untold and unreal.
And opening my eyes, I am afraid of course
to look — this inward look that society scorns —
Still, I search in these woods and find nothing worse
than myself, caught between the grapes and the thorns.
（written in February 1959, from To Bedlam and Part Way back, 1960）
骑士：这片树林     著：安妮•塞克斯顿   翻译：晓雾
         题记：一个人只需要闭上眼睛转身一次就会丢失自己......只有在我们丢失自己后，我们才会发现自己。
                                                                 Thoreau, Walden
骑士：
这是一个古老的游戏，我们儿时玩的游戏。
有时候，在岛上，在缅因州。
八月下旬，当冷雾从海上漂来，
丁利戴尔与祖父村庄之间的森林
白朦朦一片，很诡异。
因为每一个松树都象一个棕色标杆吗？
我们不知道;
仿佛蝙蝠遮住了太阳，白天变成黑夜。
只一个转身，你就迷路了;
乌鸦叫出了黑暗，你知道晚饭永远不会到来，
厄运是从远处浮标海岸的钟声传来，你的保姆走了。
女士：
划艇撞翻了。那么你已经死了。
转身一次，闭上眼睛，现场闪现在你脑中。
骑士：
与你同类的我已经失去，
我再一次转身，闭上眼睛，
此时树林都是白色的人。
在我黑夜中，这一奇异的现象，难以言表。
再睁开双眼时，我感到恐惧，我害怕
自己被社会蔑视。
我寻遍这些树林，发现比这更糟糕的事情，
我卡在葡萄与荆棘之间。

晓雾

Torn Down From Glory Daily——从辉煌的天空坠落
Torn Down From Glory Daily - By Anne Sexton
All day we watched the gulls
striking the top of the sky
and riding the blown roller coaster.
Up there
godding the whole blue world
and shrieking at a snip of land.
Now, like children,
we climb down humps of rock
with a bag of dinner rolls,
left over,
and spread them gently on stone,
leaving six crusts for an early king.
A single watcher comes hawking in,
rides the current round its hunger
and hangs
carved in silk
until it throbs up suddenly,
out, and one inch over water;
to come again
smoothing over the slap tide.
To come bringing its flock, like a city
of wings that fall from the air.
They wait, each like a wooden decoy
or soft like a pigeon or
a sweet snug duck:
until one moves, moves that dart-beak
breaking over. It has the bread.
The world is full of them,
a world of beasts
thrusting for one rock.
Just four scoop out the bread
and go swinging over Gloucester
to the top of the sky.
Oh see how
they cushion their fishy bellies
with a brother's crumb.
从辉煌的日报扯下（从辉煌的天空坠落）  著：安妮•塞克斯顿   翻译：晓雾
整整一天，我们眼看着海鸥
引人注目的天空上
像骑过山车。
在那里
神邸的整个蓝色世界
尖叫在峡谷深处。
现在，像孩子一样，
我们爬上凸出的岩石
一包晚餐卷，遗留下来的，
传播他们轻轻地在石头上，
留下6结壳早日王。
一个单独的观察者来摆卖的，
乘坐小艇，挂起刻丝
直到它突然跳起来，
跳出水面一英寸以上;
再一次滑翔拍打潮水，
驱赶羊群一样，就像一个城市
的翅膀，掉下来的空气。
等待，每一个人都像一个木制的诱饵
柔软的鸽子或甜蜜温暖的鸭子：
直到有移动，移动的飞镖打破了嘴。
还有面包。
这个世界充满了他们，
野兽的世界
在一个石头上。
短短四年舀出面包
去格洛斯特的天空晃荡。
哦，怎么看
为了减轻他们肚子的荤腥
与哥哥的面包屑。

晓雾

Music Swims Back to Me——音乐飘回我身边
Music Swims Back to Me  By Anne Sexton
Wait Mister. Which way is home?   
They turned the light out
and the dark is moving in the corner.   
There are no sign posts in this room,   
four ladies, over eighty,
in diapers every one of them.
La la la, Oh music swims back to me   
and I can feel the tune they played   
the night they left me
in this private institution on a hill.
Imagine it. A radio playing
and everyone here was crazy.
I liked it and danced in a circle.   
Music pours over the sense   
and in a funny way
music sees more than I.
I mean it remembers better;
remembers the first night here.
It was the strangled cold of November;   
even the stars were strapped in the sky   
and that moon too bright
forking through the bars to stick me   
with a singing in the head.
I have forgotten all the rest.
They lock me in this chair at eight a.m.   
and there are no signs to tell the way,   
just the radio beating to itself   
and the song that remembers   
more than I. Oh, la la la,   
this music swims back to me.   
The night I came I danced a circle   
and was not afraid.
Mister?
音乐飘回我身边    著：安妮•塞克斯顿   翻译：晓雾
等等先生。这是家吗？
是谁关掉了灯
正在黑暗角落里。
这房间没有路标，
四位女士们，超过八十，
她们穿着花格衣裳。
啦啦啦，哦，音乐飘回我身边
我能感觉到她们演奏的曲调
留给我的夜
在这个小山上的私人机构。
想象一下吧。 无线电播放
这里每个人都是疯子。
我喜欢，我跳了一圈舞。
音乐倒在这个意义上
一个有趣的方式
音乐所看到的比我多
我的意思是，它更容易记忆；
记得第一天晚上在这里。
这是寒冷的十一月；
星星都被绑在天空上
月亮太亮
从窗户栏杆照过来
音乐仿佛就在我耳边。
我已经忘记了所有。
上午八点，他们把我锁在椅子上
并没有迹象告诉我，
只是无线电自己在跳动
这首歌，记得
比我多。哦，啦啦啦，
音乐飘回我身边。
晚上我来到，我跳了一圈
并不害怕。
先生？

晓雾

The Bells——钟声
The Bells By Anne Sexton
Today the circus poster
is scabbing off the concrete wall
and the children have forgotten
if they knew at all.
Father, do you remember?
Only the sound remains,
the distant thump of the good elephants,
the voice of the ancient lions
and how the bells
trembled for the flying man.
I, laughing,
lifted to your high shoulder
or small at the rough legs of strangers,
was not afraid.
You held my hand
and were instant to explain
the three rings of danger.
Oh see the naughty clown
and the wild parade
while love love
love grew rings around me.
this was the sound where it began;
our breath pounding up to see
the flying man breast out
across the boarded sky
and climb the air.
I remember the color of music
and how forever
all the trembling bells of you
were mine.
钟声     著：安妮•塞克斯顿   翻译：晓雾
今天马戏团的海报
在混凝土墙上损坏了
孩子们忘记了
如果他们知道这一切。
爸爸，你还记得吗？
只有声音仍然存在，
大象扑通的好遥远，
象古代狮子的声音
这是怎样的钟声
颤抖的飞人。
我笑着说，
请抬起你的肩膀
在小粗腿的陌生人间，
并不害怕。
你握着我的手
并立刻解释
三环的危险。
噢，看那个顽皮的小丑
和野生游行
而爱
爱在我周围环绕。
这是声音开始的地方；
我们的呼吸触及到了
飞翔人的乳房
整个人悬浮在半空中
我记得音乐永远的颜色
你所有颤抖的钟声
是我的。

晓雾

Elizabeth Gone——伊丽莎白走了
Elizabeth Gone By Anne Sexton
1.
You lay in the nest of your real death,
Beyond the print of my nervous fingers
Where they touched your moving head;
Your old skin puckering, your lungs' breath
Grown baby short as you looked up last
At my face swinging over the human bed,
And somewhere you cried, let me go let me go.
You lay in the crate of your last death,
But were not you, not finally you.
They have stuffed her cheeks, I said;
This clay hand, this mask of Elizabeth
Are not true. From within the satin
And the suede of this inhuman bed,
Something cried, let me go let me go.
2.
They gave me your ash and bony shells,
Rattling like gourds in the cardboard urn,
Rattling like stones that their oven had blest.
I waited you in the cathedral of spells
And I waited you in the country of the living,
Still with the urn crooned to my breast,
When something cried, let me go let me go.
So I threw out your last bony shells
And heard me scream for the look of you,
Your apple face, the simple creche
Of your arms, the August smells
Of your skin. Then I sorted your clothes
And the loves you had left, Elizabeth,
Elizabeth, until you were gone.
伊丽莎白走了   著：安妮•塞克斯顿   翻译：晓雾
1
你躺在真实的死亡之巢，
远离我紧张的手指
在那里他们触摸你的头；
你衰老的皮肤起皱，肺部的呼吸
象婴儿般短促，你最后一次抬起头
看我的脸摆在人类的床上，
你在哪里叫喊，让我走，让我走。
你躺进最后死亡的箱子，
但不是你，不是最后的你。
他们已经填塞你的脸颊，我说；
这种粘土手，这伊丽莎白的面具
是不是真的。在缎面内
这无情的麂皮绒床，
是谁在叫喊，让我走，让我走。
2
他们给我你的骨灰和骨壳，
霍霍作响在纸板盒葫芦，
像石头碰撞，他们的烤炉已经布莱斯特。
我在魔法的大教堂等你，
在生命的国度等你，
骨灰盒对着我的乳房低语，
是什么在叫喊，让我走，让我走。
我扔掉你的骨壳，
听到我的尖叫像你的样子，
你的苹果脸，简单的托儿所
你的手臂，八月的气味
你的皮肤。然后我整理你的衣物
你留下的爱，伊丽莎白，
伊丽莎白，直到你离去。