这次咱们来读2020年诺贝尔文学奖得主露易丝·格丽克(Louise Glück)的诗集《野鸢尾》(The Wild Iris)中的同名诗《野鸢尾》.
At the end of my suffering
there was a door.
在我苦难的尽头
有一扇门。
Hear me out: that which you call death
I remember.
听我说完:那被你称为死亡的
我还记得。
Overhead, noises, branches of the pine shifting.
Then nothing. The weak sun
flickered over the dry surface.
头顶上,喧闹,松树的枝杈晃动不定。
然后空无。微弱的阳光
在干燥的地面上摇曳。
It is terrible to survive
as consciousness
buried in the dark earth.
当知觉
埋在黑暗的泥土里,
幸存也令人恐怖。
Then it was over: that which you fear, being
a soul and unable
to speak, ending abruptly, the stiff earth
bending a little. And what I took to be
birds darting in low shrubs.
那时突然结束了:你所惧怕的,作为
一个灵魂却不能
讲话,突然结束了,僵硬的土地
略微弯曲。那被我认作是鸟儿的,
冲入矮灌木丛。
You who do not remember
passage from the other world
I tell you I could speak again: whatever
returns from oblivion returns
to find a voice:
你,如今不记得
从另一个世界到来的跋涉,
我告诉你我又能讲话了:一切
从遗忘中返回的,返回
去发现一个声音:
from the center of my life came
a great fountain, deep blue
shadows on azure seawater.
从我生命的核心,涌起
巨大的喷泉,湛蓝色
投影在蔚蓝的海水上。
柳向阳 译