阳台上读诗,陪米沃什看海

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别再空谈了,你不知道你还能拥抱几天美好。

在豆瓣里读过这首诗的几个版本,最喜欢的还是Super_BomB的翻译,很自然,也贴合原诗的口语感。这一点非常重要。

晚年的米沃什,节奏放缓,看世界和自己却无比通透。从那首着名的“礼物”到这一首,老米的通达让我觉得即便年老也还是值得活下去。

要到什么时刻,才会看淡真相、缺憾、观念和救赎?当你的时间不够了,你才觉得美丽的花、树木、女人和酒,以及大海,才值得占满视野。

唯一能够抵抗死亡沮丧阴影的,只有继续感受美。

与珍妮的谈话

切•米沃什

我们不谈哲学了,撇下它,珍妮。

那么多字,那么多文章,谁能受得了。

我对你说起过我放逐自己的真相。

我不再为生活的缺憾而感到忧虑。

与常人的不幸相比,它并无不同。

三十多年了,我们一直在争论,

就象现在,在热带的天空下的小岛上。

我们躲过一场倾盆大雨,转眼又是阳光明媚,

我渐渐地沉默,目眩于树叶的翠绿。

成排的浪花涌起泡沫,我们潜进去,

游得很远,直到香蕉林和小风车般的棕榈树

在地平线上混成一团。

而我备受指责:我不胜任我的作品,

我对自己的要求不够,

当我本可以向卡尔•雅斯贝斯学习时,

我对时代观念的嘲讽却变得缓和。

我随波逐流,淡看白云来去。

你是对的,珍妮,我不知怎样关心我灵魂的救赎。

一些人被感召,其他人尽其所能应付着。

我听天由命,凡降临于我的都是公正的。

我不会倚老卖老地说自己多么智慧旷达。

无法言喻,我从“当下”里选择我的家,

在世间万物中,它们存在,因此,令我们快乐:

海滩上赤裸的女人们,她们挺拔的古铜色的乳房,

木槿,菟丝花,一朵红百合,贪婪地攫取着

用我的眼睛,嘴唇,舌头,番石榴汁,西塞尔李子汁,

加冰含糖的郎姆酒,兰花依偎着青藤

在一片雨林中,树木挺立在它们的根上。

死亡,你说,我的和你的,越来越近了,

我们历尽艰苦,而这凄凉的尘世仍将继续。

菜园子紫黑色的泥土

还会在这里,不管是否有人注视它。

大海,就象今天,还会深沉地呼吸。

正慢慢变小,我将消失在无垠中,越来越自由。

于瓜德罗普岛

(译者:Super_BomB

Conversation with Jeanne ( 英译本)

——CzeslawMilosz

Let us not talk philosophy, drop it, Jeanne.

So many words, so much paper, who can stand it.

I told you the truth about my distancing myself.

I've stopped worrying about my misshapen life.

It was no better and no worse than the usual humantragedies.

For over thirty years we have been waging ourdispute

As we do now, on the island under the skies of thetropics.

We flee a downpour, in an instant the bright sunagain,

And I grow dumb, dazzled by the emerald essence ofthe leaves.

We submerge in foam at the line of the surf,

We swim far, to where the horizon is a tangle ofbanana bush,

With little windmills of palms.

And I am under accusation: That I am not up to myoeuvre,

That I do not demand enough from myself,

As I could have learned from Karl Jaspers,

That my scorn for the opinions of this age growsslack.

I roll on a wave and look at white clouds.

You are right, Jeanne, I don't know how to careabout the salvationof my soul.

Some arecalled, others manage as well as they can.

I accept it, what has befallen me is just.

I don't pretend to the dignity of a wise old age.

Untranslatable into words, I chose my home in whatis now,

In things of this world, which exist and, for thatreason, delightus:

Nakedness of women on the beach, coppery cones oftheir breasts,

Hibiscus, alamanda, a red lily, devouring

With my eyes, lips, tongue, the guava juice, thejuice of la prunede Cythère,

Rum withice and syrup, lianas-orchids

In a rain forest, where trees stand on the stiltsof their roots.

Death, you say, mine and yours, closer and closer,

We suffered and this poor earth was not enough.

The purple-black earth of vegetable gardens

Will be here, either looked at or not.

The sea, as today, will breathe from its depths.

Growing small, I disappear in the immense, more andmore free.

Guadeloupe





朝南阳台 2015-08-23 08:46:02

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