試譯：〈掮水者〉 約翰·蒙塔格【The Water Carrier－John Montague】

掮水者　約翰·蒙塔格（試譯：淺白）
 
每日兩次，我會從泉裏掮回清水
在晨早，出發上學前；還有是在傍晚
平衡如一個支點，在兩邊水桶之間
 
一條荊棘杈生的小路通往泉流
在那兒你得小心踩過黏滑的溪石
其浸蝕的邊棱，蒼淺如白骨
 
在漸冉開闊的湖池前（那是供洗濯和牲口用的）
細小的魚影閃爍，當你舀下
並讓它迴旋、注滿，以鏽染的淡水……
 
而第二個桶（那搪瓷的）才是盛泉水用的；
水從一綴滿燈芯草的近甸奔來，噗簌
流響，復淌出，在那破裂的水管裏——
 
一道長年剝蝕的威化，薄帶鏽跡。
它是流得如此純然，且冷冽，測測碎落
像冰凝的手銬，落在腕上。
 
你一直站着，直至那水桶接近漾溢
一面聞着那些霉朽的、未被人擷摘的野莓的氣味：
那纍纍的鬱綠，由水扶育而成。
 
重新憶拾起這幕，我曾希望能將之風格化
即如那埃及掮水者在某肖像畫裏一般；
然而一頓，輒出神於那微瑣、但富藴記憶的生命——
 
我有時會過來這裏打水，
不是作為溯回或隱避，而只是為了些純粹的事物
一些生命的發源，半是想像，也半沿自真實
 
脈動在那我感到的、虛想的靜水之中。
 
21/1/2024初稿
 

The Water Carrier
By John Montague (from his 1961 collection Poisoned Lands and Other Poems)
 
Twice daily I carried water from the spring,
Morning before leaving for school, and evening;
Balanced as a fulcrum between two buckets.
 
A bramble-rough path ran to the river
Where you stepped carefully across slime-topped stones,
With corners abraded as bleakly white as bones.
 
At the widening pool (for washing and cattle)
Minute fish flickered as you dipped,
Circling to fill, with rust-tinged water.
 
The second or enamel bucket was for spring water
Which, after racing through a rushy meadow,
Came bubbling in a broken drain-pipe,
 
Corroded wafer thin with rust.
It ran so pure and cold, it fell
Like manacles of ice on the wrists.
 
You stood until the bucket brimmed
Inhaling the musty smell of unpicked berries,
That heavy greenness fostered by water.
 
Recovering the scene, I had hoped to stylize it,
Like the portrait of an Egyptian water carrier:
But pause, entranced by slight but memoried life.
 
I sometimes come to take the water there,
Not as return or refuge, but some pure thing,
Some living source, half-imagined and half-real,
 
Pulses in the fictive water that I feel.
 

圖片源自網絡。

試譯：〈沒有路〉菲利普·拉金【No Road－Philip Larkin】 淺白

沒有路　　菲利普·拉金（試譯：淺白）
 
衹因當初同意了，且讓彼此間的那條路
日漸荒置；
並用磚頭堵起門柵，植樹以屏隔我們，
再由得時間恣意侵蝕：
寂默、空間，還有外人——我們的遺忽
究竟並未帶來多少效果。
 
落葉無人清掃，興許；雜草
沒被刈除；其餘無甚變化。
它仍發露得如此清楚，蔓生得那樣鮮少，
若今夜再走回那邊的路，當不會顯得有何異樣，
且仍會是被容許的。而再久一點，
時間的作力或就更為摽顯了，
 
草擬一個世界，那裏將不會再有這樣的
道路，由你而通向我；
就這樣睜眼看着該世界升起，如一冷酷的太陽：
報答他者，是我的自由。
不去特意預防它，是我意志的體現。
而許肯它，則無乃吾之痼疾耳。
 
14/1/2024初稿
 

No Road
By Philip Larkin (from his 1955 collection The Less Deceived)
 
Since we agreed to let the road between us
Fall to disuse,
And bricked our gates up, planted trees to screen us,
And turned all time’s eroding agents loose, 

Silence, and space, and strangers – our neglect
Has not had much effect.
 
Leaves drift unswept, perhaps; grass creeps unmown;
No other change.
So clear it stands, so little overgrown,
Walking that way tonight would not seem strange,
And still would be allowed. A little longer,
And time will be the stronger,
 
Drafting a world where no such road will run
From you to me;
To watch that world come up like a cold sun,
Rewarding others, is my liberty.
Not to prevent it is my will’s fulfilment.
Willing it, my ailment.
 

圖片源自網絡。

試譯：〈流變世界中的鳥類學〉 勞勃·佩恩·華倫【Ornithology in a World of Flux－Robert Penn Warren】

流變世界中的鳥類學　　勞勃·佩恩·華倫（試譯：淺白）
 
那只是黃昏時的一聲鳥叫，來處未明，
當我自泉邊打水回來，穿過那峋嶙的後頭的牧草地；
而我站得這樣靜，頭上的天都沒比我水桶內的天更靜。
 
多年過去，所有的地方與人面褪逝，有些人已死去，
而我站在一方遠地，當黃昏依然謐靜，乃終於明白
我當是更想念該剎鳥叫時的靜，相對于那些
每在日後失效的種種。
 
4/1/2024初稿
12/1/2024二稿
 

Ornithology in a World of Flux
By Robert Penn Warren  (from his 1960 collection You, Emperors, and Others)
 
It was only a bird call at evening, unidentified,
As I came from the spring with water, across the rocky back-pasture;
But so still I stood sky above was not stiller than sky in pail-water.
 
Years pass, all places and faces fade, some people have died,
And I stand in a far land, the evening still, and am at last sure
That I miss more that stillness at bird-call than some things that were to fail later.

圖片源自網絡。