字體:小 中 大 | |
|
|
2024/12/21 08:53:10瀏覽6|回應0|推薦1 | |
Selected poems:《歷史圈套裡的獨白:波蘭當代詩選百首》 https://www.books.com.tw/products/0010948087 歷史圈套裡的獨白:波蘭當代詩選百首 A Monologue Ensnared in History:100 Selected Contemporary Polish Poems 作者:陳瑞山 出版社:書林出版有限公司 出版日期:2023/02/07 本書收錄名詩百首,選自七位波蘭受學界肯定的傑出詩人,四位「大老級詩人」包含二位諾貝爾文學獎詩人米沃什、辛波絲卡,以及魯熱維奇、赫伯特;三位「新浪潮」詩人扎加耶夫斯基、利普斯卡,以及巴蘭查克。 此書為國內首本針對波蘭當代七位具影響力的詩人做有系統的翻譯與評介。評介除了簡述詩人生活背景,並賞析其詩歌創作的核心理念與技巧。譯者譯筆簡潔精練、用詞雅緻,貼近原文,並附注釋助讀者盡窺波蘭詩歌獨特思維與感性之美。書末二篇〈諾貝爾獎致詞〉供讀者們進一步探索大詩人的創作理念。 〈詩藝?〉/ 米沃什 (Poetica?) Ars Poetica? 我一直嚮往一種更寬闊的形式 從詩或散文的要求中解脱出來 能使我們彼此了解而無需 置作者或讀者於極端的痛苦。 詩的真諦裡有一種不是很得體的東西: 當一件事被提出來時我們並不知道它早就在我們裏面, 所以我們一眨眼,好像一隻老虎早已躍了出來 站在亮處,猛摇尾巴。 這就是為什麼詩會被説成受魔頭指使, 儘管聲稱詩人一定是天使也嫌誇張。 很難猜測詩人們那個傲骨源自哪兒, 他們的弱點一旦顯露就經常會遭到羞辱。 是甚麼樣講理的人會想要成為一座群魔之城, 群魔行徑宛如待在家,講多種的語言, 對於竊得的詩人之雙唇或手也不滿意, 且為了祂們的方便使勁在改變詩人的命運? 誠然病態的東西在今日是高度被重視, 因此你可能以為我只是在開玩笑 或者我已經設計出另一套方法 靠著反諷來讚美藝術。 曾有一個時代人們只閱讀智慧之書, 以幫助我們承受痛苦和不幸。 這事,畢竟不太同於 匆匆翻閱剛從那些精神科診所來的千份文書。 還有這世界已不同於它看起來的樣子 我們也不是在自我狂謅中看見的自己。 人們因此保存緘默的操守, 以此赢得親戚和朋友的尊敬。 詩的目的是在提醒我們 光是要維持單個人是何等困難, 因為我們的屋子是開的,門都沒有鎖匙, 而且隱形的客人得以隨意進進出出。 我同意,這裡我所説的不是詩, 因為詩應該罕寫且於不得已時, 在無法忍受的強逼下,懷著唯一的期望 讓那些良善的靈魂,不是邪惡的,揀選我們做祂們的工具。 柏克萊 1968 https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/49455/ars-poetica-56d22b8f31558 Ars Poetica? BY CZESLAW MILOSZ TRANSLATED BY CZESLAW MILOSZ I have always aspired to a more spacious form that would be free from the claims of poetry or prose and would let us understand each other without exposing the author or reader to sublime agonies. In the very essence of poetry there is something indecent: a thing is brought forth which we didn’t know we had in us, so we blink our eyes, as if a tiger had sprung out and stood in the light, lashing his tail. That’s why poetry is rightly said to be dictated by a daimonion, though it’s an exaggeration to maintain that he must be an angel. It’s hard to guess where that pride of poets comes from, when so often they’re put to shame by the disclosure of their frailty. What reasonable man would like to be a city of demons, who behave as if they were at home, speak in many tongues, and who, not satisfied with stealing his lips or hand, work at changing his destiny for their convenience? It’s true that what is morbid is highly valued today, and so you may think that I am only joking or that I’ve devised just one more means of praising Art with the help of irony. There was a time when only wise books were read, helping us to bear our pain and misery. This, after all, is not quite the same as leafing through a thousand works fresh from psychiatric clinics. And yet the world is different from what it seems to be and we are other than how we see ourselves in our ravings. People therefore preserve silent integrity, thus earning the respect of their relatives and neighbors. The purpose of poetry is to remind us how difficult it is to remain just one person, for our house is open, there are no keys in the doors, and invisible guests come in and out at will. What Im saying here is not, I agree, poetry, as poems should be written rarely and reluctantly, under unbearable duress and only with the hope that good spirits, not evil ones, choose us for their instrument. Berkeley, 1968 烏托邦/ 辛波絲卡 (Utopia) Utopia 島上一切都顯得很清楚。 在那兒你可以根據硬道理而站。 除了來時路之外再也沒別處。 灌木叢被答案的重量壓彎。 這兒長著一株「正確揣測」的樹 它的枝枒從古至今都未曾糾纏過。 這兒一株直挺單純令人目眩的「了悟」樹 長於名叫「原就是這樣」的泉水畔。 有一座「顯然之谷」 你越深入樹林,它就愈開闊。 如有任何疑惑一出現,風就會立即將它驅散。 不邀自來的回聲訴求人聽見 急欲解釋各界的秘密。 向右邊,有個巖洞,裏頭掩藏著「義理」。 向左邊,還有一片「深信」之湖。 「真理」脱離湖底輕輕地浮上表面。 「不可動搖的確信」高聳於這座山谷。山巔 供你俯瞰「事物核心」的佳景。 島雖迷人,無人居住, 沿著海灘散落的模糊足印, 無一例外地都朝向大海。 好像這兒能做的只有離別一樁 向水深之處,永不回頭地沉溺。 沉入不能了悟的生命中。 https://www.poemhunter.com/poem/utopia-27/ Utopia Poem by Wislawa Szymborska Island where all becomes clear. Solid ground beneath your feet. The only roads are those that offer access. Bushes bend beneath the weight of proofs. The Tree of Valid Supposition grows here with branches disentangled since time immermorial. The Tree of Understanding, dazzling straight and simple. sprouts by the spring called Now I Get It. The thicker the woods, the vaster the vista: the Valley of Obviously. If any doubts arise, the wind dispels them instantly. Echoes stir unsummoned and eagerly explain all the secrets of the worlds. On the right a cave where Meaning lies. On the left the Lake of Deep Conviction. Truth breaks from the bottom and bobs to the surface. Unshakable Confidence towers over the valley. Its peak offers an excellent view of the Essence of Things. For all its charms, the island is uninhabited, and the faint footprints scattered on its beaches turn without exception to the sea. As if all you can do here is leave and plunge, never to return, into the depths. Into unfathomable life. 〈試著讚美傷殘的世界〉/ 亞當.扎加耶夫斯基 (Spróbuj opiewać okaleczony świat) Try to Praise the Mutilated World 請試著讚美這個傷殘的世界。 記得六月的長晝, 野草莓和粉紅葡萄酒滴。 蕁麻有序地蔓延越過了 流亡者棄置的農宅。 你一定要讚美這傷殘的世界。 你見過時尚的遊艇和大船; 其中一艘還有很長的旅程在前頭, 而其他的會等著鹽漬而遺忘。 你已看過難民成群無處可去, 你已聽到行刑者愉悦地歌唱。 你應該要讚美這傷殘的世界。 記得那些我們在一起的時刻 白色的室內裡窗簾在顫動。 回想一下音樂狂飆的演奏會。 你在秋日的公園撿橡實 葉子在大地的傷口迴旋。 請讚美這傷殘的世界 以及畫眉鳥失落的灰色羽毛, 以及溫柔的光線它偏離、消失 又返回。 https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/57095/try-to-praise-the-mutilated-world-56d23a3f28187 Try to Praise the Mutilated World Play Audio BY ADAM ZAGAJEWSKI TRANSLATED BY CLARE CAVANAGH SHARE Try to praise the mutilated world. Remember Junes long days, and wild strawberries, drops of rosé wine. The nettles that methodically overgrow the abandoned homesteads of exiles. You must praise the mutilated world. You watched the stylish yachts and ships; one of them had a long trip ahead of it, while salty oblivion awaited others. Youve seen the refugees going nowhere, youve heard the executioners sing joyfully. You should praise the mutilated world. Remember the moments when we were together in a white room and the curtain fluttered. Return in thought to the concert where music flared. You gathered acorns in the park in autumn and leaves eddied over the earths scars. Praise the mutilated world and the gray feather a thrush lost, and the gentle light that strays and vanishes and returns. 〈牛頓的柳橙:無限〉/ 利普斯卡 (Pomarańcza Newtona Nieskończoność) Newtons Orange: Infinity Lipska 他們過去已經在此。 他們打一場輸去日子的戰役。 模糊了。背景有陰沉的雲翳。 好萊塢劇院裡 一列棄置的椅子在吹口哨。 影片的餘尾 依舊透過螢幕的雙唇在呼吸。 「可是威尼斯對我而言 簡直是幸福的埋葬地因而我不覺得 想回去」 馬塞爾·普魯斯特曾寫道。 我們現在就在此。 愛的全球化下 我們經不起感官市場的影響。 投機的煙火。 國家劇院裡 莎士比亞的墮落亞麻床單。 一座多個肌肉蜕變階段的城市黏著我們。 社福的海盗版。 枯萎的玫瑰之懺悔 仍未告訴我們任何事。 「無限」的不規律。 記憶的十億位元組。 黎明時 一陣偏執的微風在發抖。 諾頓版防毒軟體 掃描我們的肺葉。 處處 破碎的霜玻璃。 你們未來必會到此。 露臺上有位女人 一朵雲狀似擁吻。 除夕之夜在顫動。 https://www.poemhunter.com/poem/newton-s-orange-infinity/ NEWTONS ORANGE: INFINITY Poem by Ewa Lipska They already were. They fight a losing battle of dates. Blurred. Surly clouds in the background. In the Theater Hollywood a train of abandoned chairs whistles. The remains of films still breathe through the screens lips. "But Venice means happinesss burial ground to me so much that I dont feel up to returning"—wrote Marcel Proust. We just are. In loves globalization we succumb to sensuous market forces. Speculative fireworks. The corrupt bed linens of Shakespeare in the national theater. A city of muscular stadiums sticks to us. A pirated copy of welfare. A wilted roses penitence doesnt tell us anything yet. Arrhythmia of infinity. Gigabytes of memory. At dawn a bigoted breeze shivers. Norton antivirus software scans our lungs. All around the broken glass of frost. You are yet to be. On a balcony a woman a cloud resembling a kiss. New Years Eve night is trembling. The twenty-second century. The twenty-third century. The twenty-fourth century. We are connected by a dye works of sunrises and sunsets. A polishing shop of magic, words and fire. They divide us forever. |
|
( 知識學習|隨堂筆記 ) |