Born on June 30, 1911, Sateiniai, Lithuania,Russian Empire. Polish-American writer, translator, and critic who received the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1980.

米沃什，1911年生于立陶宛，2004年死于波兰的克拉科夫，1980年诺贝尔文学奖得主。

Dedication

献词

You whom I could not save
Listen to me.
Try to understand this simple speech as I would be ashamed of another.
I swear, there is in me no wizardry of words.
I speak to you with silence like a cloud or a tree.
What strengthened me, for you was lethal.
You mixed up farewell to an epoch with the beginning of a new one,
Inspiration of hatred with lyrical beauty,
Blind force with accomplished shape.
Here is the valley of shallow Polish rivers. And an immense bridge
Going into white fog. Here is a broken city,
And the wind throws the screams of gulls on your grave
When I am talking with you.
What is poetry which does not save
Nations or people?
A connivance with official lies,
A song of drunkards whose throats will be cut in a moment,
Readings for sophomore girls.
That I wanted good poetry without knowing it,
That I discovered, late, its salutary aim,
In this and only this I find salvation.
They used to pour millet on graves or poppy seeds
To feed the dead who would come disguised as birds.
I put this book here for you, who once lived
So that you should visit us no more.
			

你，我无法拯救你
你听我说。
你要努力理解我这番简单的话语，因为我会为另一番话语感到耻辱。
我发誓，我身上没有遣词造句的巫术。
我用沉默跟你说话，像一片云、一棵树。
那使我强壮的恰是你的死因。
你勉强向旧时代告别，新时代就来了，
厌恶的灵感交织着抒情的美丽，
盲目的力量存在于成熟的形体。
这儿是波兰浅浅的河谷，一座大桥
伸进白雾。这儿是一座破碎的城池
寒风把鸥鸟的尖叫掷向你的坟墓
当我跟你谈论
诗歌；诗歌怎么能拯救
国家和人民？
对官方谎言的一味默许
醉汉唱的一首歌——他的喉咙马上就要被割断
针对大二女生的读物。
我想要好诗，但不知道什么是好诗。
后来，我发现，好诗有好意，
在好诗中，只有在好诗中；我才找到了拯救的道路。
他们常常把黍子和罂粟的种子撒向坟墓
去喂养那些伪装成鸟儿出现的死者
你曾经活过，我把这书给你放在这儿
你就别再来看我们了吧


(北塔 译)
			

Abode

住所

The grass between the tombs is intensely green.
From steep slopes a view onto the bay,
Onto islands and cities below. The sunset
Grows garish, slowly fades. At dusk
Light prancing creatures. A doe and a fawn
Are here, as every evening, to eat flowers
Which people brought for their beloved dead.
			

坟墓之间的野草苍翠欲滴
这景观从陡峭的山坡一直延伸到海湾
延伸到下面的岛屿和城池。夕阳
回光返照，缓缓消泯。黄昏时分
走兽们轻松地欢跳着。母鹿和小鹿
来到这儿，它们每天傍晚都来享用花朵
那是人们带来献给死去的亲人的。


(北塔 译)