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Charles Simic
查尔斯-西米克

Poet, essayist and translator. He teaches American Literature and Creative Writing at the University of New Hampshire. He has published twenty poetry collections, five books of essays, a memoir, and numerous of books of translations. He has received many literary awards for his poems and translations, including the Pulitzer Prize, the Griffin Prize and the MacArthur Fellowship. Voice at 3 A.M., his selected later and new poems, was published by Harcourt in 2003 and a new book of poems My Noiseless Entourage came in the spring of 2005.

美国诗人、随笔作家、译者,在美国新罕布什尔大学教授美国文学和文学创作课程。他已出版二十本诗集、五本杂文集、一本传记及不少译著。他的诗和翻译曾多次获文学奖,包括普利策奖、格里芬奖和麦克阿瑟奖学金。他的新近诗选《清晨三点的声音》2003年由哈科特出版社出版,《我无声的随从》已于2005年春季出版。



译者
Translator


老哈
Mario Li

老哈,原名李小庆,1960年生于中国成都,现定居美国内华达,以读诗、译诗、写诗为人生趣事。

Poet and translator. Under Chinese pen name Laoha, he translates and writes poems both in English and Chinese. He was born in China in 1960 and now lives in Northern Nevada, USA.

Little Night Music

小夜曲

Of neighbors' voices and dishes Being cleared away On long summer evenings With the windows open As we sat on the back stairs, Smoking and sipping beer. The memory of that moment, So sweet at first, The two of us chatting away, Till the stars made us quiet. We drew close And held fast to each other As if in sudden danger. That one time, I didn't recognize Your voice, or dare turn To look at your face As you spoke of us being born With so little apparent cause. I could think of nothing to say. The music over, the night cold.

 

说话声和洗碗声 从隔壁传来 夏日漫长的傍晚, 窗开着, 我们坐在房后的阶梯上, 一边抽烟,一边喝啤酒。 回忆起那时的情景, 开始很甜蜜。 我们俩聊个不停,直到 星星出来才让我们静了下来, 相互靠近, 紧紧抱着对方, 好像遇到突如其来的危险。 就那一次,我没能听出 是你的声音,也没敢转过头 去看你的脸。 你说,我们来世 没有什么意思。 我想不出说什么好。 音乐结束了,夜好凉。

Sunlight

阳光

As if you had a message for me ... Tell me about the grains of dust On my night table? Are any one of them worth your trouble? Your burglaries leave no thumbprint Mine, too, are silent. I do my best imagining at night, And you do yours with the help of shadows. Like actors rehearsing a play, The dark ones withdrew Into remote corners of the room. The rest of us sat in expectation Of your burning oratory. If you did say something, I'm none the wiser. The breakfast finished, The coffee drugs were unenlightening. Like a lion cage at feeding time, The floor at my feet turned red.

 

似乎你想要给我带来什么消息 ...... 是想要告诉我 我床头柜上的灰尘吗? 就这小小的灰尘值得麻烦你吗? 你的偷窃行为没有留下任何指纹, 我的也同样,没有任何声音。 我竭尽全力在夜里展开想象力, 你在影子的帮助下也同样努力。 像排练时的演员一样, 黯淡的几个撤离 到房间遥远的角落里。 我们其余的人坐着期待 你炽热的演说表演。 如果你真说过什么,我根本不懂。 早餐已结束, 咖啡的药效毫无任何的唤醒作用。 就像是喂食时的狮笼一样, 我脚边的地板变得通红。

Country Fair

乡村集市

If you didn't see the six-legged dog, It doesn't matter. We did, and he mostly lay in the corner. As for the extra legs, One got used to them quickly And thought of other things. Like, what a cold, dark night To be out at the fair. Then the keeper threw a stick And the dog went after it On four legs, the other two flapping behind, Which made one girl shriek with laughter. She was drunk and so was the man Who kept kissing her neck. The dog got the stick and looked back at us. And that was the whole show.

 

如果,你没见过长六条腿的狗, 那没关系,我们见过了。 大部分时间它都呆在角落里。 至于多余的腿嘛, 人习惯起来是很快的, 接下来就会去想其它的事情了。 这就像,在一个又冷又黑的晚上, 露天的集市上所发生的那样。 那时,狗的饲养员把一根棍扔出, 那狗爬起来就追, 只用了四只腿,另外的两只在后面乱甩, 引得一个女孩子一边尖叫一边傻笑。 那个女孩子喝醉了,有个醉得同样的男人 一直在吻她的脖子。 狗追到棍后回头望了我们一眼。 这就是表演的全过程。

The Something

某种东西

Here come my night thoughts On crutches, Returning from studying the heavens. What they thought about Stayed the same, Stayed immense and incomprehensible. My mother and father smile at each other Knowingly above the mantel. The cat sleeps on, the dog Growls in his sleep. The stove is cold and so is the bed. Now there are only these crutches To contend with. Go ahead and laugh, while I raise one With difficulty, Swaying on the front porch, While pointing at something In the gray distance. You see nothing, eh? Neither do I, Mr. Milkman. I better hit you once or twice over the head With this fine old prop, So you don't go off muttering I saw something!

 

天堂研究过了, 接下来是我夜里所想到的, 与拐杖有关。 他们所想到过的事情, 什么都没变, 依旧巨大无穷,不可理喻。 我父亲和母亲相对而笑, 对壁炉架的事儿心知肚明。 猫接着呼呼大睡,狗 在睡梦中嚎叫。 炉头好冷,床也同样。 现在只有这些拐杖 可以与之争辩。 要笑就尽管笑,此时我带着艰难 举起一根, 在房前门廊里乱晃, 指着灰色的远处 那个什么东西。 你什么东西也没看见,呃? 我也没有,送奶先生。 我最好是用这根上好的老撑竿 在你的头上敲上两三下, 免得你老是会嘀咕: 我看见什么啦!

Note: Little Night Music was first published in The Voice at 3:00 A.M.: Selected Late & New Poems. Sunlight was first published in The Best American Poetry 2005, originally from New England Review. Country Fair and The Something were first published in The Best of the Best American Poetry 1988-1997.

 

注:《小夜曲》译自《凌晨三点的声音:新旧诗选》, 《阳光》 译自《2005 年最佳美国诗作》,原载《新英格兰评论》。 《乡 村集市》和《某种东西》译自《美国最佳诗作精选1988-1997》。

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