葛綠柯植物誌 (7)：Daisies

其實這首詩前半的那種二元對立有點老套，但最後的反轉帶點諷刺還蠻有趣的。類似的回馬槍之感在〈延齡草〉也出現過，但那首的反轉更後設而且力道更強烈，我就喜歡得多。

〈雛菊〉

別客氣，你就直說吧。庭園

不是真實世界。機器

才是真實世界。坦白說出任何傻子

都能從你臉上讀出的：合理的做法

是避開我們，是抗拒

懷舊。這

不夠現代，風吹動

草地上雛菊的聲音：頭腦

不會因聽風而閃亮。而頭腦

當然要閃亮，就像

機器閃亮，而非

比方說，像樹根扎深。但還是

很感人，看你小心翼翼

走近草地邊緣，一大清早

絕不會有人

看見你的時候。你在草地旁站愈久，

愈顯緊張。沒人想聽

自然世界的印象：你會再度

被嘲笑；人們會對你嗤之以鼻。

至於你今晨此刻

實際聽到的話：想清楚

是否要告訴別人這原野上說了什麼

又是誰說的

Daisies

Go ahead: say what you're thinking. The garden

is not the real world. Machines

are the real world. Say frankly what any fool

could read in your face: it makes sense

to avoid us, to resist

nostalgia. It is

not modern enough, the sound the wind makes

stirring a meadow of daisies: the mind

cannot shine following it. And the mind

wants to shine, plainly, as

machines shine, and not

grow deep, as, for example, roots. It is very touching,

all the same, to see you cautiously

approaching the meadow's border in early morning,

when no one could possibly

be watching you. The longer you stand at the edge,

the more nervous you seem. No one wants to hear

impressions of the natural world: you will be

laughed at again; scorn will be piled on you.

As for what you're actually

hearing this morning: think twice

before you tell anyone what was said in this field

and by whom.

葛綠柯植物誌 (6)：The Wild Iris

經過黑暗無邊深陷谷底的 2020，新的一年就以這首充滿重生意象的詩來開始吧。與《野鳶尾》詩集同名的開卷之作有著 Glück 一貫簡單無華的用字，但細讀之下其實很難翻譯，尤其是來回在過去與現在之間的英文動詞時態極簡卻有效地形成回想敘述的角度與對比，但中文幾乎無法同樣簡潔有力地傳達。我只能盡力而為啦，總之是非常有趣又有挑戰性的練習。Here's to hoping for a hopeful year!

〈野鳶尾〉

我苦難的盡頭

有一扇門

聽我說：你們所稱的死亡

我記得

頭上有聲響，松枝搖曳。

然後沉寂。微弱陽光

閃動在乾燥的表面

這樣存活是可怕的

剩下意識

埋在黑暗的土裡

然後結束了：你們害怕的，有

靈魂卻無法

言語，突然終止，僵硬的泥土

彎拱少許。然後我想是

鳥在矮灌木間飛跳

你們不記得

自另一個世界穿渡而來

我告訴你們我又能言語了：所有

從遺忘回來的

會找到聲音：

從我生命中心湧出

一道豐沛的泉，深藍的

影在湛碧海水上

The Wild Iris

At the end of my suffering

there was a door.

Hear me out: that which you call death

I remember.

Overhead, noises, branches of the pine shifting.

Then nothing. The weak sun

flickered over the dry surface.

It is terrible to survive

as consciousness

buried in the dark earth.

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.

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:

from the center of my life came

a great fountain, deep blue

shadows on azure seawater.