試譯：〈這些日子〉查爾斯·奧爾森【These Days－Charles Olson】 淺白

〈這些日子〉　查爾斯·奧爾森（試譯：淺白） 

無論你想說甚麼，留 

着根腳，由它們 

晃盪吧 

而那點髒土 

　　　　　只為了釐清 

　　　　　它們來自哪裏

16/7/2026初稿
 
These Days
By Charles Olson
 
whatever you have to say, leave
the roots on, let them
dangle
 
And the dirt
 
                    Just to make clear
                    where they come from
 
1950

試譯：〈一群展着翅的詩人在世上被尋見〉華茲華斯【A Volant Tribe Of Bards On Earth Are Found－William Wordsworth】 淺白

〈一群展着翅的詩人在世上被尋見〉　威廉·華茲華斯（試譯：淺白）

一群展着翅的詩人在世上被尋見，

彼等，當諂媚的輕風繞着他們玩時，

將黏土巢掛在那一個個「制高點」；

是掉得多快，一下子自那空蘯處鬆脫

跌墜成遺忘的塵土！大自然堅實的地面

有志於建造恆久的心靈，將向其信託：

──深信在那，只有在那，她能得着

穩實的基礎。而隨時間年復年的流轉，

單獨地，她在她那揀定的圓圈裏勞作；

當星辰熠熠閃爍，或日間的紫眸

正隨春日的雜花柔然斂合；

那兒，甚至連天使翅膀的一下動靜

也會打斷那份顫顫激邃的沉默──

自靜寂的山群，和那比靜更深的天。
 
20/5/2026初稿
 
A Volant Tribe Of Bards On Earth Are Found
By William Wordsworth
 
A volant Tribe of Bards on earth are found,
Who, while the flattering Zephyrs round them play, 
On “coignes of vantage” hang their nests of clay; 
How quickly from that aery hold unbound, 
Dust for oblivion! To the solid ground
Of nature trusts the Mind that builds for aye; 
Convinced that there, there only, she can lay
Secure foundations. As the year runs round,
Apart she toils within the chosen ring; 
While the stars shine, or while day’s purple eye 
Is gently closing with the flowers of spring; 
Where even the motion of an Angel’s wing 
Would interrupt the intense tranquility 
Of silent hills, and more than silent sky. 

1823

試譯：〈祝好〉 A·R·阿門斯【Salute－A. R. Ammons】

〈祝好〉　A·R·阿門斯（試譯：淺白）

願快樂能

追逐，

追上你；

常常或者

追丟

亦只是

在前為你

等着，預留

一片空裕

給你。
 
18/5/2026初稿
 
Salute
By A. R. Ammons (from his 1990 Previously Uncollected Poems from the Really Short Poems of A. R. Ammons)
 
May happiness
pursue you,
 
catch you
often, and,
 
should it
lose you,
 
be waiting
ahead, making
 
a clearing
for you. 

試譯：〈P.S.〉 弗朗茨·賴特【P.S.－Franz Wright】

〈P.S.〉　弗朗茨·賴特（試譯：淺白）

我閉上眼並看到

一隻海鷗在沙漠裏

高翔，抵着那藍極了的天。

過去裏是有希望的。

我在給你寫着字

無時無刻，我也在寫

用雙手

日接夜。
 
17/5/2026初稿
 
P.S.
By Franz Wright (from his 2003 collection Walking to Martha's Vineyard)
 
I close my eyes and see
a seagull in the desert,
high, against unbearably blue sky.
 
There is hope in the past.
 
I'm writing to you 
all the time, I am writing 
 
with both hands, 
day and night. 

試譯：〈老哲人臨終前示〉 華特·莎維治·蘭德【Dying Speech of an Old Philosopher－Walter Savage Landor】

〈老哲人臨終前示〉　　華特·莎維治·蘭德（試譯：淺白）

我不和誰爭，原為無事值得爭辯；

自然即我所愛──而僅次者，是藝術；

我把雙手在生命之火前烤過；

它沉下，而我已準備好離去。
 
15/5/2026初稿
 
Dying Speech of an Old Philosopher
By Walter Savage Landor
 
I strove with none, for none was worth my strife:
Nature I loved, and, next to Nature, Art:
I warm’d both hands before the fire of Life;
It sinks; and I am ready to depart.
 
1849
 
另附楊絳譯本：
 
我和誰都不爭；
和誰爭我都不屑。
我愛大自然；
其次就是藝術。
我雙手烤著
生命之火取暖；
火萎了，
我也準備走了。

試譯：〈線〉 保羅·布萊克本【The Line－Paul Blackburn】

〈線〉　　保羅·布萊克本（試譯：淺白）

它幾乎進入了我身體

我惟一意識是那暖意

藉此它正在沉入，徐徐，我內裏，那

被漸漸涵容的體熱，

那一來源的穩定性，在我旁邊。

當她離開時，輕輕地，儘管無疑是

出於某種迫切的壓力，

部份暖意仍留在那一處

被拋下的床單上，隨着

那影響的減弱，以及我那對它感知的意識

乃增加了我自己的以如斯向度，以至

　　　　　　　回來的時候

我底暖便顯著過她的了。

而那線又再動了，

移入不明確的空間，

近至屋頂，

　　　　　　讓

知覺並人的界限擴伸至某一剎

程度，一如它所被需要的。
 
13/4/2026稿
17/4/2026二稿
 
The Line
By Paul Blackburn
 
It had nearly entered my body 
my only awareness the warmth 
by which it was sinking, slowly, into me, that 
being-included of body heat, 
the steadiness of the source next to me. 
 
When she had left, softly, tho doubtless under 
the pressure of some urgency, 
part of the warmth remained there 
on the abandoned sheet, which 
lessening of that power and my awareness of it 
increased my own in such wise that 
                            on the return 
my warmth was greater than hers, 
 
and the line moved again, 
into undefined spaces, 
near the roof, 
the scope of senses and man extended to 
such degree as was called for. 
 
1954

試譯：〈解藥〉 威廉·卡洛斯·威廉斯【The Cure－William Carlos Williams】

〈解藥〉　　威廉·卡洛斯·威廉斯（試譯：淺白）

有時我會羨慕別人，怕他們

也有點吧，若其寫得好的話。

畢竟我寫不了時就如病人一樣

且想死。原因就這末簡單。

但他們亦無以存取我的經驗來源──

隨他人寫吧，那就，像其本來就會

的那樣，並盡所能完善它；他們

永遠也不會觸見那形象的袐密

交織，與這片深不可測的土地

我們每日都在上行走，而從中

在一眾餘者裏，你已然昇起

如花一般，綻開，落到我手上。
 
16/4/2026稿

The Cure
By William Carlos Williams (from his 1944 collection The Wedge)
 
Sometimes I envy others, fear them 
a little too, if they write well. 
For when I cannot write I’m a sick man 
and want to die. The cause is plain. 
 
But they have no access to my sources. 
Let them write then as they may and 
perfect it as they can they will never 
come to the secret of that form 
 
interknit with the unfathomable ground 
where we walk daily and from which 
among the rest you have sprung 
and opened flower-like to my hand. 

"Therefore, each speech having its own character, the poetry it engenders will be peculiar to that speech also in its own intrinsic form. The effect is beauty, what in a single object resolves our complex feelings of propriety... to make: make clear the complexity of his perceptions in the medium given to him by inheritance, chance, accident or whatever it may be to work with according to his talents and the will that drives them...

"...to give language its highest dignity, its illumination in the environment to which it is native. Such war, as the arts live and breathe by, is continuous."

-William Carlos Williams, Introduction to The Wedge(1944) 

試譯：〈迴避〉 保羅·布萊克本【The Evasion－Paul Blackburn】

〈迴避〉　　保羅·布萊克本（試譯：淺白）

進來的那道光

不是一個定義

迎着光，你

以有禮的不肯定，一路盡問着些

可以模棱應答的問題：

你是單純得，幾乎，不要求任何定義，

緩緩引人向那些境域，再無

句法或任何行徑能夠直截

而另外那位，則是個熱心的愚人

且也非常討喜，──面對着

你那脈脈的沉靜，他擺出

風雅彬彬的談吐

附庸得見娛樂性，──娛慰着

他自己底宿習，拿去

他那應得的：陌生者的饋贈

黑麥包和雜燴湯，我們那熱辣的香料酒

　但你

在沉默裏繼續飮食。沒有人知道

你在餵養着何樣的魂靈

面對他那笨拙的暖意，你輕置着一種

　　　　　　　　　　　（那光從你背後褪逝

有距離感的禮貌，一種模棱的意態

並不相應着吾人的殷勤

　　　　　　　　　　　　儘管我們見的是你。
 
7/10/2025初稿
16/10/2025二稿
15/4/2026三稿
 
The Evasion 
By Paul Blackburn
 
The light that enters
not a definition
 
Against the light
your polite uncertainty keeps asking questions which
can be answered obliquely:
your innocence demands, almost, no definition,
edges us to those areas where no
syntax or other act can be direct
 
The other is a warm-hearted fool
and very likeable
Against your murmuring silence he puts
a graceful chatter,
disgracefully entertaining, entertains
his hangover, takes
what is his due, the stranger's gift
black bread and chowder, our hot spiced liquors
But you
 
eat and drink in silence. No one knows
what ghost you feed
Against his clumsy warmth you lay
 
                                        (the light fading behind you
 
a distant politesse, an ambiguity
which does not answer our hospitality
                                        tho it is you we greet. 
 
1954

試譯：〈時份〉 保羅·布萊克本【The Hour－Paul Blackburn】

〈時份〉　　保羅·布萊克本（試譯：淺白）

正午十二點半

等待吃點甚麼

我們已坐在陽光底下的石凳上一小時了

無視着時間

除卻那體內的時鐘，我們

的飢餓感。我們

定定坐着

專注力退返自身

　　　　　　　　聽

凝神於這份風中靛藍的寂默

　　同樣，也餓着它呢

　　　　在北方的寒冬過後

聽着腹內那暖洋洋的嚙咬

　那和風

在一片鮮花中吹開。
 
13/4/2026稿
 
The Hour
By Paul Blackburn
 
Noon-and-a-half:
waiting to eat
we have sat on the stone bench in the sun for an hour
ignoring the time
except for the time of our bodies, our
hunger. We
sit here fixed,
driven back on ourselves,
                                           listening, 
caught in the blue silence of this wind, 
      hungering for that too 
                                          after northern winter 
 
listening to the warm gnawing in the stomach, 
      the warm wind 
through the blossoms blowing.
 
1955

圖片源自網絡。

試譯：〈伴父親晚坐，一九七七〉 弗朗茨·賴特【Sitting Up Late With My Father, 1977－Franz Wright】

〈伴父親晚坐，一九七七〉　弗朗茨·賴特（試譯：淺白）
 
玄冬下眾星的白燄──
他五十歲時想甚麼
我終於知道。
 
他想，故那雪暴就會來了
而我將得康癒；
我們會好好一談
 
當你長成
而我已死去
 
晢白、遙渺、翡翠綠的星燄，在玄冬裏。
 
12/4/2026初稿
 
Sitting Up Late With My Father, 1977
By Franz Wright (from his 2003 collection Walking to Martha's Vineyard)
 
White fire of winter stars— 
what he's thinking at fifty 
I finally know. 
 
He thinks, so the blizzards will come
and I will be healed;
we'll talk 
 
when you grow up 
and I am dead. 
 
White distant emerald fire of winter stars. 

試譯：〈棕櫚下，皇家廣場〉 保羅·布萊克本【Plaza Real With Palmtrees－Paul Blackburn】

〈棕櫚下，皇家廣場〉　　保羅·布萊克本（試譯：淺白）
 
七點鐘，夏日的傍晚
他們擠聚到那些小石凳處
背對背坐着
五至六個一張；
年輕的母親
老年男人
返家途中的工人，停
下來。他們面孔
停懸在疲憊和空白之中
恢復着
攝入那黃昏底涼意
五到六個一張長凳；
孩子太小未會走路
騎在他們的母親膝上
　　　　　　　　構成
七到八個一張長凳。
 
　　　　　　　　　年紀大些的玩着彈珠
　　　　　　　　　　　追逐着別人
　　　　　　　　　　　　或鴿子。
陽光攫住了樓頂，一邊
　　　　　　　　　　的拱廊；
而全個廣場都被影子覆蓋着，在傍晚
七到八點之間。
 
　　　　　　　　　那握着氣球的男人
　　　　　　　　　幾乎，是揚升在它上方了
　　　　　　　　　他的臉凹癟而安靜
　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　空白
　　　　　　　　　廓空了城市的內容
　　　　　　　　　一如城中蕩淨了空氣
　　　　　　　　　綁紥在他手裏的氣球線
　　　　　　　　　向上指而紋絲不動；
　　　　　　　　　他佇站在廣場的邊緣
　　　　　　　　　沒有在叫賣，或是觀視着甚麼
　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　那賣糖果的
　　　　　　　　　手推車，有餵給白鴿的食物……
 
　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　一種止息，
　　　　　　　　　　　一種群動中的止息；
　　　　　　　　　　　一處內灣，在這城市的汒洋
　　　　　　　　　　　朝內裏漂湊
五到六個一張長凳
七至八個一張長凳
　　　　　　　　　　　　現在
　　　　　　　　　　　　空氣觸動着棕櫚
　　　　　　　　　　　　、人面。
　　　　　　　　　　　　一切皆輕柔
 
巴塞隆拿，五五年六月廿七
 
4/11/2025初稿
 
Plaza Real With Palmtrees
By Paul Blackburn
 
At seven in the summer evenings 
they crowd the small stone benches 
back to back 
five and six to a bench; 
young mothers 
old men
workers on their way home stopping 
off. their faces
poised in the tiredness and blankness 
recouping 
taking the evening coolness 
five and six to a bench. 
Children too young to walk, 
on the knees of their mothers 
                                               make
seven and eight to a bench. 
 
                                               The older ones play immies 
                                                      or chase each other 
                                                           or pigeons.
Sun catches the roofs, one side 
                                               of the arcade; 
the whole of the plaza in shadow between 
seven and eight of an evening. 
 
                                               The man with balloons 
                                               rises above it almost 
                                               his face deflated & quiet 
                                                                                       blank 
                                               emptied of the city 
                                               as the city is emptied of air. 
                                               The strings wrapped to his hand 
                                               go up and do not move. 
                                               He stands at the edge of the square 
                                               not calling or watching at all. 
                                                                                     The cart 
                                               with candy has food for the pigeons... 
 
                                                                                       A lull, 
                                               a lull in the moving, 
                                               a bay in the sea of this city 
                                               into which drift
five and six to a bench 
seven and eight to a bench 
                                               Now 
                                               the air moves the palmtrees, 
                                               faces. 
                                               All of it gentle
 
Barcelona. 27. VI. 55

Placa Reial，圖片源自網絡。

2019年8月7日攝於尖沙咀。

試譯：〈父親們〉 弗朗茨·賴特【Fathers－Franz Wright】

〈父親們〉　弗朗茨·賴特（試譯：淺白）

啊，且建一個城市

──為每個希望

死去的人，在那兒

他們也許能助彼此一把

而從不至於感到自慚

或者還能交個朋友

之類。

祢

星辰和大海的創造者

下來，下來吧

以祢的靈，作成

一種新的心地

在我身內，讓我

再次發生──

曼哈頓的無家者

寒冬下你死去中的子民

我並沒有太多時間

去想及它，光是嘗試存活下去，

對我而言，這

大概也是下個瞬間你會做的事吧──是凍到這個地步

而我是多麼常會走到那條真實的河的河邊，去加入你
 
30/10/2025初稿
 
Fathers
By Franz Wright (from his 2003 collection Walking to Martha's Vineyard)
 
Oh build a special city 
for everyone who wishes 
 
to die, where 
they might help one another out 
 
and never feel ashamed 
maybe make a friend,
etc. 
You 
 
who created the stars and the sea
come down, come down 
 
in spirit, fashion 
a new heart 
 
in me, create 
me again— 
 
Homeless in Manhattan 
the winter of your dying 
 
I didn't have a lot of time 
to think about it, trying to stay alive 
 
To me 
 
it was just the next interesting thing you would do—that is how cold it was 
 
and how often I walked to the edge of the actual river to join you 

試譯：〈跳着，陪傑克森〉 羅伯特·克里利【Jumping with Jackson－Robert Creeley】

〈跳着，陪傑克森〉　　羅伯特·克里利（試譯：淺白）

怨不了太多

年紀之類的話。

單單是呼吸、

自在──已夠意思了

何況還有你這種朋友

能一路坦誠面對

生命，以及那些

我們所為了、和得到的。
 
24/10/2025初稿
 
Jumping with Jackson
By Robert Creeley (From his Unpublished Poems)
 
Can’t say much 
Of age and such, 
 
Just it’s fun to breathe 
And take one’s ease 
 
With a friend like you 
Who keeps it true 
 
To life and what 
We came here for and got. 

試譯：〈湍流〉 約翰·蒙塔格【White Water－John Montague】

〈湍流〉　　約翰·蒙塔格（試譯：淺白）
給萊恩·麥凱
 

那泛着光、塗上焦油的

可弋船的皮膚，凌駕

且承受着水流，

──拋蕩並回應着

海濤苛酷的漲落。

在木造的肋骨裏面

一陣滑曳的顫亂：光澤

那團銀綠色、黑橫紋、撲騰着的鯖魚；

那虹彩般的弧圈

一尾喘着氣的海鱒。

正如一條魚

死前照爍，那最強熾的光，

那盲鰻的鱗片

也閃耀着一種急繁、

窳爛底殘輝：

微亮、漂白的──

湍流──

那光，際乎海峽之間

在風暴驟發前。

21/10/2025初稿

譯者按：可弋船（currach），愛爾蘭一種傳統、簡便的木舟，多以獸皮包覆，內為格狀的木製骨架。

 
White Water
By John Montague (from his 2004 collection Drunken Sailor)
for Line McKie
 
The light, tarred skin 
of the currach rides 
and receives the current, 
rolls and responds to 
the harsh sea swell. 
 
Inside the wooden ribs 
a slithering frenzy; a sheen 
of black-barred silvergreen and flailing mackerel: 
the iridescent hoop 
of a gasping sea trout. 
 
As a fish gleams most 
fiercely before it dies, 
so the scales of the sea-hag 
shine with a hectic 
putrescent glitter: 
 
luminous, bleached— 
white water— 
that light in the narrows 
before a storm breaks. 

"Something I’ve always admired in Montague’s work is the way he insists on a slow, close, patient looking at things most of us might flinch from. He looks, and keeps looking, until he finds an adequately specific language for the object under his attention. ‘Peer closely,’ he instructs himself (and us) in one poem, ‘All those small / scarlet petals are shivering.’ He will not turn away from hard matters, but insists — with a mixture of fascination, sympathy, and what might be called rapt detachment — on seeing exactly what’s there and then saying it in a manner that’s both plain and at the same time ritualistic — formalized by line and stanza into a fixed ritual instant."

"In the first stanza... it’s the word ‘skin’ that holds my attention... What the speaker sees is a feeling body. Then the difficult circumstance of the boat’s existence is acknowledged, the way it manages what both supports and opposes it — the sea swell it ‘rolls and responds to’. That the swell is ‘harsh’ accentuates feeling as part of the picture."

"...this habit of Montague’s reveals the overarching aesthetic of his verse to be a mix of the visual and the metaphysical. Video ergo sum — I see therefore I am — whatever the cost. For this brave, self-sustaining poet, a diamond clarity of seeing is, I’d hazard, as close as he can come to faith: if all things glow when they’re seen as closely as he insists on seeing them, then that is ‘vision’ in both senses. And I wonder if this obsessive seeing might be connected with the poet’s childhood sense of being seen by Christ, as this appears in ‘Scraping the Pot’, a poem about early Confession experiences... Being visible and vulnerable, he pushes back by means of his own calamitous (and ‘confessional’) clarity of seeing. At the very centre of Montague’s tirelessly vigilant imagination, then, shines this clarity of sight-becoming-insight, vision becoming visionary — a marvellous, marvel-making force that for all these years has won the admiration, affection and gratitude of so many of us."

-From Chosen Lights: Poets on Poems(ed. by Peter Fallon), Eamon Grennan on the poem

圖片源自網絡。

試譯：〈杜爾街〉 保羅·布萊克本【Rue Du Taur－Paul Blackburn】

〈杜爾街〉　　保羅·布萊克本（試譯：淺白）
給讓·塞吉
 
　　奇跡是已發生了。
在此處，長冬過後，看到
　　　　　　這個男人
　　　凝視着他的城鎮
穿過了它的空氣
雖則日光在牆上仍然淺淡
但透過早春的空氣
看着太陽在那些牆上
 
　　嗅着它
　　　頭仰起
一眼也沒有瞥向那賣書舖的櫥窗
──那是他每次經過時
都不免要注目　5　分鐘的
　　　　　　　　在整個冬季。
　　　　　　　　　　　　　圖盧茲，三月，一九五五年。
 
14/10/2025初稿
 
Rue Du Taur
By Paul Blackburn
for Jean Séguy
 
   THE MIRACLE HAS happened. 
Here, after long winter, to see 
              this man 
      looking at his town, 
walking thru the air of it, 
tho the sun is still pale on the walls 
but thru the air of spring 
looking at the sun on the walls 
 
    smelling it 
      head high. 
Not a glance at the window of the bookstore 
which has taken  5  minutes of his attention 
each time he has passed it 
                             all winter. 
                                         Toulouse, March 1955

試譯：〈一捆鮮木〉 愛德·多恩【The Rick of Green Wood－Edward Dorn】

〈一捆鮮木〉　　愛德·多恩（試譯：淺白）
 
鮮木和乾木，在木場裏
如扇狀排開──後面
　　　　　　　　　　　一個山谷在底下
放眼的好所在
 
木柴堆在電圓鋸旁。我聽到
那砍樹人在林翳裏面。我不要那些
一大捆的鮮木，我告訴他
我要的是櫻桃木或榿木，或某些
強挺而幼的，或粗厚但乾身的；但我不要
那些鮮木，我老婆可能死的
 
她的背很幼弱
我必不能讓拿回去的木
整日價的笮壓得她太厲害
 
啊對的，木確是有鮮
有乾──那些櫻桃的樹皮很薄
七月砍的。
 
我名字叫伯林蓋姆
那砍樹工說。
我叫多恩，我說。
我逢星期五鋸木，若天氣涼的話
伯林蓋姆說，名姓報夠了。
 
　　林翳之外，我的女兒正在踱着步
哼着歌──
　　　　回溯着馬匹的蹄印
　　是今晨早些時，那砍樹工的馬
　　拉曳着榿木、冷杉、鐵杉
　　而遺留在那空谷之上
　　　　　　　　　　　　　十一月的
 
空氣裏，那愈發寒冷的，世界之中的
──當我們佇立在木場內，愉快地
談着，有關鮮木和乾木之種種。
 
13/10/2025初稿
 
譯者按：鮮木（green wood，日本又稱「生木」），指新鋸下來、未經風乾程序的木材，內裏仍含水份，故較重贅，與輕身的乾木相對。
  
The Rick of Green Wood
By Edward Dorn
 
In the woodyard were green and dry
woods fanning out, behind
                                     a valley below
a pleasure for the eye to go.
 
Woodpile by the buzzsaw. I heard 
the woodsman down in the thicket. I don't 
want a rick of green wood, I told him
I want cherry or alder or something strong 
and thin, or thick if dry, but I don't
want the green wood, my wife could die
 
Her back is slender 
and the wood I get must not 
bend her too much through the day. 
 
Aye, the wood is some green
and some dry, the cherry thin of bark 
cut in July. 
 
My name is Burlingame
said the woodcutter.
My name is Dorn, I said.
I buzz on Friday if the weather cools
said Burlingame, enough of names.
 
    Out of the thicket my daughter was walking 
singing— 
        backtracking the horse hoof 
    gone in earlier this morning, the woodcutter's horse 
    pulling the alder, the fir, the hemlock 
    above the valley 
                   in the november 
 
air, in the world, that was getting colder 
as we stood there in the woodyard talking 
pleasantly, of the green wood and the dry. 
 
1956

試譯：〈不在〉 羅伯特·克里利【Absence－Robert Creeley】

〈不在〉　　羅伯特·克里利（試譯：淺白）

太陽在葉子邊緣，

紋路，缺席的愉悅；

它所曾意味的一切

而今已聚在一起。

日子悉盡過去

雲朵都退得遠遠，

而天空亦即天堂本身；

一個人也只是想

也許是永遠自己一個留在

這無一人的地方──而

身下，卻又恰仍是

它本來的所在。
 

9/10/2025初稿
 
Absence 
By Robert Creeley (from his 2006 collection On Earth)
 
Sun on the edges of leaves, 
patterns of absent pleasure, 
all that it meant 
now gathered together. 
 
Days all was away 
and the clouds were far off 
and the sky was heaven itself,
one wanted to stay 
 
alone forever perhaps 
where no one was, 
and here again it is 
still where it was. 

"No matter what becomes of it, art is local, local to a place and to a person, or group of persons, or just what's in the air despite how vague that sounds. It happens somewhere, not everywhere. When it does so happen everywhere, it has become... purely, a vogue or fashion..."

"...'originality' should imply, in any sense, that he should, is hard to follow. The light moves, so to speak, and those who see it have secured an 'originality' quite beyond that qualified by terms of personality or intent... Taste operates here as well, of course, but again Pound is relevant in that he said, damn your taste, I would like first to sharpen your perceptions, after which your taste can take care of itself."

-Robert Creeley, "Why Bother?", 1962. From (https://publishing.cdlib.org/ucpressebooks/view?docId=ft4t1nb2hc&chunk.id=d0e16379&toc.depth=1&toc.id=d0e15852&brand=ucpress;query=Upanishads#1)

攝於28/8/2019

試譯：〈在田野的角落處〉泰德·庫瑟【In the Corners of Fields－Ted Kooser】 淺白

 〈在田野的角落處〉　　泰德·庫瑟（試譯：淺白）
 
有點甚麼正在呼喚我
出自四下田野的角落
──殘存的鐵絲網
曬着弛懈、曲捲的線圈，而被拋出
犁溝的石頭，安詳的
睡在暖和的垃圾堆裏；
舊牌子，寫着「不准打獵」的
那些──它們灰色的臉孔
呢喃進風中，
而乾涸的馬槽
升湧起太陽花的噴泉；
一隻飛蛾，抖着翅
從牧場那邊飛了入來，
被麻雀趕逐、追擾，
乃至棲停在一根樁柱上
如此肯定於其生命
遂爾平和地，展開雙翅。
 
9/10/2025初稿
 
In the Corners of Fields
By Ted Kooser (from his 1980 collection Sure Signs)
 
Something is calling to me 
from the corners of fields, 
where the leftover fence wire
suns its loose coils, and stones 
thrown out of the furrow 
sleep in warm litters; 
where the gray faces 
of old No Hunting signs 
mutter into the wind, 
and dry horse tanks
spout fountains of sunflowers;
where a moth
flutters in from the pasture,
harried by sparrows, 
and alights on a post, 
so sure of its life 
that it peacefully opens its wings. 
 
另附非馬譯本，〈原野的角落〉：
 
有東西在向我召喚
自原野的角落，
那裡殘存的鐵絲網
在曬它鬆捲的太陽，從犁溝拋出的
石頭，在暖和的垃圾堆裡睡覺；
那塊不准打獵的舊牌子
灰頭鼠臉
在風中嘀咕，
乾涸的馬槽
湧起向日葵的噴泉；
一隻飛蛾
被麻雀追逐
自牧場飛了過來，
停落在一根柱子上，
那麼篤定地
舒展它的翅膀。
 
From（http://poetrysky.com/quarterly/40/kooser.html）

圖片源自網絡。

試譯：〈世上〉 弗朗茨·賴特【On Earth－Franz Wright】

〈世上〉　弗朗茨·賴特（試譯：淺白）
 
窗外，那棵小蘋果樹
 
的甦發，葉子
新近的光
在四月
引過她注目，忘掉吧
忘卻吧──
但怎樣呢
對於死，一個人怎樣
開始着手呢？
地表之上
有誰會來教我──
這世界
充滿着的
都是未曾死過的人們
 
8/10/2025初稿
 
On Earth
By Franz Wright (from his 2003 collection Walking to Martha's Vineyard)
 
Resurrection of the little apple tree outside
 
my window, leaf- 
light of late
in the April
called her eyes, forget
forget— 
but how 
How does one go
about dying? 
Who on earth
is going to teach me— 
The world
is filled with people
who have never died 

圖片源自網絡。

試譯：〈初曙〉 弗朗茨·賴特【First Light－Franz Wright】

〈初曙〉　　弗朗茨·賴特（試譯：淺白）
 
雨下着
在死去的語言裏。
 
空屋內充滿聲音
 
是你名字
被突然輕聲說出
 
一次，
 
在你最終安睡前。
 
7/10/2025初稿
 
First Light
By Franz Wright (from his 1998 collection Ill Lit: Selected & New Poems)
 
It's raining
in a dead language. 
 
The empty house filled with the sound
 
of your name
abruptly whispered,
 
once,
 
before you finally slept. 

圖片源自網絡。