Offering
| 祭品
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For J. B.
| 为J. B.而作
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By Jonathan Aaron
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Some evening, after I’ve been dead a few years,
| 我死后多年的一个晚上，
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when the cabs are busy sideswiping each other in the rain,
| 出租车在雨中来来往往，
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just as they’re doing right now (a few things won’t have changed
| 此情景与今日大体相当，
（些许美景尚未变模样）。
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that much), maybe I’ll be the sensation of a cool hand
| 我将给你留下如此感受：
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on your forehead as you drive across what’s left of the Brooklyn Bridge
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into Manhattan and look up, suddenly not yourself, at the tall
| 路面墓碑林立空气浊臭，
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black monuments stacked this way and that in the sulphurous air.
| 感到一只凉手触摸额头，
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Or maybe I’ll be the radio glow’s low-volume sibilance of words
| 突然发现这不是你的手。
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and music you’ve been hearing but not really listening to, or the surmise
| 或我将成为收音机里面，
低低沉沉的音乐与表演，
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starting to come to you as you take a right onto 6th Avenue, a moment
| 靡靡之音时刻浮响耳边，
你却没有真正聆听体验。
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of silence in the storm carrying headlong more or less everybody
| 或暴雨中大街了无人影，
人人被带往堕落与爱情，
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toward the latest spectacles of love and corruption. And yet, and yet—
| 在这万人空巷后的寂静，
我是你刹那间臆想飘零。
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later that night, for one reason or another, maybe you’ll think of me
| 但深夜时分天空黑如墨，
你可能不经意地想起我，
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and spill a few willy-nilly drops from your shot of Bushmills onto the floor
| 几滴布什米尔酒轻洒落，
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in memory of my first steps into eternity.
| 缅怀我已蹒跚步入天国。
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发表于 2010-5-16 00:18:00