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| Selected poems：米沃什的《著魔的古喬》 https://www.books.com.tw/products/CN11566853 著魔的古喬 作者：切斯瓦夫‧米沃什 譯者：胡桑 出版社：上海譯文出版社 出版日期：2018/07/01 內容簡介 本書收入波蘭詩人、諾貝爾文學獎得主米沃什最有代表性的詩歌作品80餘首，分別選自詩集《著魔的古喬》（1965）、《沒有名字的城》（1969）、《太陽何處升起何處降落》（1974）、《珍珠頌》（1981）等。二戰期間，米沃什在華沙積極參加反法西斯鬥爭，戰後曾任波蘭駐美使館和駐法使館的文化參贊，後又自我流放到西方。 【Excerpt】 〈這是冬天〉 冬天像往常一樣來到這山谷， 經歷了八個月的乾旱下雨了， 稻草色的山嶺短時間變了綠。 在峽谷里的灰色月桂樹， 把堅硬如石般的根移植在花崗石上。 溪水必定注滿了乾涸的河床， 海風把桉樹林攪動得左右晃動。 被透明的建築物撕裂的雲層下面， 刺眼的光正在船塢上閃亮。 這不是那個地方，那裡是大理石廣場， 你坐在咖啡棚下面，望著人群。 也不是你在一條狹窄街巷的窗口吹著笛子， 孩子們的涼鞋在拱形的前廳里啪噠響著的地方。 他們聽說有一片廣闊而荒涼的土地， 被群山環繞著，於是他們去到了那裡， 留下了多刺的木十字架和篝火的殘跡。 他們在山脊上的雪中過冬， 在一起抓鬮，煮同伴們的骨頭。 於是後來這座能生長槐藍的炎熱山谷， 讓他們覺得很美。再過去，一片雲霧 從岸邊的港灣升起，海洋在忙碌著。 睡吧，海角和岩石將躺在你體內， 荒原中不動的動物在舉行軍事會議。 爬蟲的會堂，泡沫四溢的白色， 睡在風衣上，你的馬在啃草， 一隻老鷹在測量懸岩的廣度。 醒來時，你將得到世界的四個部分： 西方，是一隻裝有水和空氣的空海螺， 東方，永遠在你身後，是對被雪覆蓋的樅樹的不真實的記憶。 只要把你伸開的手臂再伸展出去， 便是古銅色的草，北方和南方。 我們是窮人，久經磨難， 我們曾在不同的星星下面露營。 你用杯子從混沌的河裡舀水， 用旅行折刀去切麵包。 這就是那個地方，可接受而不是選來的， 我們記得我們來的地方有街道和房屋， 因此這裡也該有房子，一塊馬具的招牌， 有陽台和椅子。但這兒卻是個沈寂的地區。 雷聲從地球起皺的皮膚下面掠過， 拍擊的波浪，一隊鵜鶘讓我們徒勞無益。這是從另一片海岸上帶回來的花瓶， 就像是從泥土中挖掘出來的矛頭， 那是吃蜥蜴和橡子面的失落部落的矛頭。 而我正在這裡行走，要走遍永恆的大地。身體瘦小，倚靠著一根手杖， 我走過一座火山公園，躺在泉水邊， 不知如何表達隨時隨地見到的一切： 緊貼在我的胸膛和腹部下面的大地， 它的每一塊卵石都讓我感激涕零。 我緊貼著它，我不知道我所聽見的 究竟是我的還是大地的脈搏。 當無形的綢衣邊緣擦過我時， 無論在哪兒的手都能觸摸到我的肩膀。 或者很久以前有一次喝酒時發出的輕笑聲， 在木蘭花上點起燈籠，因為我的住房寬敞。 伯克利 一九六四 IT WAS WINTER Winter came as it does in this valley. After eight dry months rain fell And the mountains, straw-colored, turned green for a while. In the canyons where gray laurels Graft their stony roots to granite, Streams must have filled the dried-up creek beds. Ocean winds churned the eucalyptus trees, And under clouds torn by a crystal of towers Prickly lights were glowing on the docks. This is not a place where you sit under a cafe awning On a marble piazza, watching the crowd, Or play the flute at a window over a narrow street While childrens sandals clatter in the vaulted entryway. They heard of a land, empty and vast, Bordered by mountains. So they went, leaving behind crosses Of thorny wood and traces of campfires. As it happened, they spent winter in the snow of a mountain pass, And drew lots and boiled the bones of their companions; And so afterward a hot valley where indigo could be grown Seemed beautiful to them. And beyond, where fog Heaved into shoreline coves, the ocean labored. Sleep: rocks and capes will lie down inside you, War councils of motionless animals in a barren place, Basilicas of reptiles, a frothy whiteness. Sleep on your coat, while your horse nibbles grass And an eagle gauges a precipice. When you wake up, you will have the parts of the world. West, an empty conch of water and air. East, always behind you, the voided memory of snow-covered fir. And extending from your outspread arms Nothing but bronze grasses, north and south. We are poor people, much afflicted. We camped under various stars, Where you dip water with a cup from a muddy river And slice your bread with a pocketknife. This is the place; accepted, not chosen. We remembered that there were streets and houses where we came from, So there had to be houses here, a saddlers signboard, A small veranda with a chair. But empty, a country where The thunder beneath the rippled skin of the earth, The breaking waves, a patrol of pelicans, nullified us. As if our vases, brought here from another shore, Were the dug-up spearheads of some lost tribe Who fed on lizards and acorn flour. And here I am walking the eternal earth. Tiny, leaning on a stick. I pass a volcanic park, lie down at a spring, Not knowing how to express what is always and everywhere: The earth I cling to is so solid Under my breast and belly that I feel grateful For every pebble, and I dont know whether It is my pulse or the earths that I hear, When the hems of invisible silk vestments pass over me, Hands, wherever they have been, touch my arm, Or small laughter, once, long ago over wine, With lanterns in the magnolias, for my house is huge. Berkeley, 1964 〈咒語〉 人的理性美麗而不可戰勝。 沒有柵欄和鐵絲網，沒有把書化成紙漿，流放的判決對它毫無作用。 它用語言建立了普遍的思想， 引導我們的手，於是我們用大寫字母來 寫正義和真理，用小寫字母去寫謊言和壓迫。 它把一切該置於上面的事物都放在上面，它是絕望的敵人，希望的朋友。 它不分猶太人和希臘人，也不分奴隸和主人， 而把世界的公共財產交由我們去管理。 它把簡樸和明瞭的語句 從折磨的詞語的粗俗嗓音中解救出來。 它告訴我們，萬物在太陽下面都是新的， 它打開了過去被凍結的拳頭。 美麗而又年輕的是菲羅—索菲亞① 和她結盟的詩歌共同為善服務。 大自然昨天才遲遲祝賀她們的誕生， 是獨角獸和回聲把這消息帶到了山中。 她們的友誼名揚天下，她們的時間無窮無盡。 她們的敵人把自己交給了毀滅。 伯克利 一九六八 ① 「哲學」一詞的希臘語音譯。 IN CANTATION Human reason is beautiful and invincible. No bars, no barbed wire, no pulping of books, No sentence of banishment can prevail against it. It establishes the universal ideas in language, And guides our hand so we write Truth and Justice With capital letters, lie and oppression with small. It puts what should be above things as they are, Is an enemy of despair and a friend of hope. It does not know Jew from Greek or slave from master, Giving us the estate of the world to manage. It saves austere and transparent phrases From the filthy discord of tortured words. It says that everything is new under the sun, Opens the congealed fist of the past. Beautiful and very young are Philo-Sophia And poetry, her ally in the service of the good. As late as yesterday Nature celebrated their birth, The news was brought to the mountains by a unicorn and an echo. Their friendship will be glorious, their time has no limit. Their enemies have delivered themselves to destruction. Berkeley, 1968 〈鐘點〉 灼熱的陽光照在葉子上， 野蜂發出急促的嗡嗡聲， 來自遠路、來自河那邊夢囈般的響聲， 和錘子緩慢的敲打聲，不止使我一個人感到歡欣， 當五種感官尚未打開，他們比起始更早 就作好了準備，等待著自稱為凡人的人們。 他們就能像我一樣去讚美生活，即幸福。 伯克利 一九七二 AN HOUR Leaves glowing in the sun, zealous hum of bumblebees, From afar, from somewhere beyond the river, echoes of lingering voices And the unhurried sounds of a hammer gave joy not only to me. Before the five senses were opened, and earlier than any beginning They waited, ready, for all those who would call themselves mortals, So that they might praise, as I do, life, that is, happiness. Berkeley, 1972 |
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