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《跟苒谈心》

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发表于 2007-8-4 13:28:59 |只看该作者 |倒序浏览

Conversation with Jeanne

                                          ——Czeslaw Milosz

1 Let us not talk philosophy, drop it, Jeanne.
2 So many words, so much paper, who can stand it.
3 I told you the truth about my distancing myself.
4  I\'ve stopped worrying about my misshapen life.
5  It was no better and no worse than the usual human tragedies.

6  For over thirty years we have been waging our dispute
7  As we do now, on the island under the skies of the tropics.
8  We flee a downpour, in an instant the bright sun again,
9  And I grow dumb, dazzled by the emerald essence of the leaves.

10 We submerge in foam at the line of the surf,
11 We swim far, to where the horizon is a tangle of banana bush,
13 With little windmills of palms.
14 And I am under accusation: That I am not up to my oeuvre,
15 That I do not demand enough from myself,
16 As I could have learned from Karl Jaspers,
17 That my scorn for the opinions of this age grows slack.

18 I roll on a wave and look at white clouds.

19 You are right, Jeanne, I don\'t know how to care about the  salvation of my soul.
20 Some are called, others manage as well as they can.
21 I accept it, what has befallen me is just.
22 I don\'t pretend to the dignity of a wise old age.
23 Untranslatable into words, I chose my home in what is now,
24 In things of this world, which exist and, for that reason, delight us:
25 Nakedness of women on the beach, coppery cones of their breasts,
26 Hibiscus, alamanda, a red lily, devouring
27 With my eyes, lips, tongue, the guava juice, the juice of la prune de Cythère,
28 Rum with ice and syrup, lianas-orchids
29 In a rain forest, where trees stand on the stilts of their roots.

30 Death, you say, mine and yours, closer and closer,
31 We suffered and this poor earth was not enough.
32 The purple-black earth of vegetable gardens
33 Will be here, either looked at or not.
34 The sea, as today, will breathe from its depths.
35 Growing small, I disappear in the immense, more and more free.

Guadeloupe

Conversation with Jeanne

                                          ——Czeslaw Milosz

1 Let us not talk philosophy, drop it, Jeanne.
2 So many words, so much paper, who can stand it.
3 I told you the truth about my distancing myself.
4  I\'ve stopped worrying about my misshapen life.
5  It was no better and no worse than the usual human tragedies.

6  For over thirty years we have been waging our dispute
7  As we do now, on the island under the skies of the tropics.
8  We flee a downpour, in an instant the bright sun again,
9  And I grow dumb, dazzled by the emerald essence of the leaves.

10 We submerge in foam at the line of the surf,
11 We swim far, to where the horizon is a tangle of banana bush,
13 With little windmills of palms.
14 And I am under accusation: That I am not up to my oeuvre,
15 That I do not demand enough from myself,
16 As I could have learned from Karl Jaspers,
17 That my scorn for the opinions of this age grows slack.

18 I roll on a wave and look at white clouds.

19 You are right, Jeanne, I don\'t know how to care about the  salvation of my soul.
20 Some are called, others manage as well as they can.
21 I accept it, what has befallen me is just.
22 I don\'t pretend to the dignity of a wise old age.
23 Untranslatable into words, I chose my home in what is now,
24 In things of this world, which exist and, for that reason, delight us:
25 Nakedness of women on the beach, coppery cones of their breasts,
26 Hibiscus, alamanda, a red lily, devouring
27 With my eyes, lips, tongue, the guava juice, the juice of la prune de Cythère,
28 Rum with ice and syrup, lianas-orchids
29 In a rain forest, where trees stand on the stilts of their roots.

30 Death, you say, mine and yours, closer and closer,
31 We suffered and this poor earth was not enough.
32 The purple-black earth of vegetable gardens
33 Will be here, either looked at or not.
34 The sea, as today, will breathe from its depths.
35 Growing small, I disappear in the immense, more and more free.

Guadeloupe

  跟苒谈心

                              ——切斯洛·米沃什

苒，我们撇开哲学，不说它吧。
太多措辞，太多篇张，谁能忍受。
我曾告诉你心里话我跟自己的隔膜。
我再不去担心我残缺的一生。
这顶多不过是人们常有的不幸。

三十年了，我们还在争论，
在这片热带风情的岛屿上，如同我们现在
刚躲过倾盆雨，转眼又是红太阳，
绿宝石的树叶光彩夺目,我说不出话来。

我们潜入成排的浪花，
游到远处，直到地平线消失，芭蕉丛
和小风车般的棕树叶交织成片。
我受到谴责，说我和我的作品大有悬殊，
对自己要求不够，
早该去学习卡尔·雅斯贝尔斯，
面对这个时代的舆论，我的不屑逐渐水落潮平。

我在波浪上翻身，仰望朵朵白云。

你是对的，苒，我不知道该如何超度我灵魂的劫余。
一部分来自感召，余下的尽了全力。
我接受这个结果，降临于我的均是理所应得。
我不假作贤老之尊。
难以言传，我选择世间万物的所在，作为
我的归宿，我们开怀，因为它们存在，
沙滩上女人的裸体，她们胸前隆起的紫铜色球果，
木槿，菟丝花，红百合，
用我的眼睛、嘴唇、舌头畅饮番石榴汁、基西拉梅汁
果汁加冰的郎姆酒，藤蔓穿梭
于雨林，树木悬立在它们的根上。

死亡，你说，我的和你的，越来越近了,
我们忍耐，这可怜的土地没有更多。
植物园紫黑色的泥土，终将留在尘世
不论人们熟视还是无睹。
大海，一如今日，自它的深腹，呼吸起伏。
我消失于无边无际之中，越来越渺小，越来越自由。

于瓜德罗普岛

[此贴子已经被作者于2005-8-17 9:30:32编辑过]