戰爭的罪惡之一
是使相愛的人终生分離。
置頂此詩
以示對挑戰者的錐心抗議!
失 愛
(紀念在柵後的她)
我們經常相會於睡夢中,
或於白日夢中。
她會時常參與我的工作,
進入我的環境。
她的面貌、
身材、
衣著、
姿態。
她的表情、
膚色、
氣味、
風格。
那麼的高雅、
標致。
永遠的鮮活、
真實。
所有均如那年夏天,
我們相會相別。
好似我們僅只分開,
不過一時半刻。
那個快樂、夢幻,
悲傷、遗憾的夏天。
那些上萬、億萬,
相思、可憐的時刻。
首先她會對我點頭,
那樣優美;
輕拂她的秀髮,
微聳她的豐圍。
並一直對我微笑,
那樣甜美;
輕赧她的蓮頰,
微露她的編貝。
但她從不走近,
也不作聲,
只是站在那裡,
看我動靜。
漸漸的她會顯得悲哀;
輕聲嘆息,
微蹙雙眉。
很快的她會變得悲傷;
慢慢的搖頭,
默默的流淚。
我也會點頭,
熱切的歡迎她。
我也會微笑,
憐惜的看著她。
我會起身去迎接,
她會躊躇、退縮,
似乎受驚。
我會上前去擁抱;
她會立即消失,
無影無踪。
每次想起,
每次夢見,
我心會痛,
痛如油煎。
痛於清晨,
痛於日間,
痛於黃昏,
痛於夜晚。
淚滴我紙,
模糊了文稿的字樣。
淚濕我枕,
污染了錦繡的鴛鴦。
本詩之英文原本附後
亦請批評指正
Lost Love
In memory of my girl friend
who is behind the guarded fence
I always meet her
in my dreams,
in my daydreams.
She still comes
into my work,
into my world.
Her figure,
her features,
her vesture,
her gestures.
Her complexion,
expressions,
her flair,
flavor.
So lively,
so lovely,
so real,
forever!
All of them as we met, and parted, in that summer.
As if we met yet, parted only, in the last hour.
That happy, hilarious, sorry, sorrowful summer.
Those millions, billions, missed, miserable hours.
She’d first nod at me,
so gracefully;
brush a little her delicate curls,
bulge a little her dainty curves.
At the same time smile at me,
so sweetly;
flush a bit her lotus-petal cheeks,
flash a bit her seashell teeth.
But, she’d never talk,
never come close to me;
just stand at a distance,
smile and stare at me.
Gradually she’d turn sad,
sigh softly, frown slightly.
Soon become sorrowful,
shake her head slowly,
shed tears silently.
I too would nod,
greet her eagerly.
I too would smile,
stare at her tenderly.
I’d get up to receive her.
She’d hesitantly retreat, seemingly scared.
I’d step forward to embrace her.
She’d instantly vanish – into the air.
My heart aches and aches:
seethingly, sizzlingly aches,
every time I remember her,
every time I dream of her.
I’d ache in the day,
ache in the night,
ache in the morning,
ache in the twilight.
Tears spatter on my paper,
blur the written words.
Tears stream onto my pillow,
bruise the embroidered birds.
*** *** ***
這首詩是先用英文寫成,
後來把它譯成中文。
很多人都說詩不易譯,
甚至是不宜譯。
求信就不易達雅,
求雅就不易信達;
因此譯文常會味同嚼臘。
能夠表達原詩意味的
六七成或七八成,
已是一流高手。
筆揚並非高手。
好在是自己的詩,
可有調整的自由。
但翻譯的結果,
還是信達雅通通不夠。