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杨牧《让风朗诵》英译

2016-03-16    来源:网络    【      美国外教 在线口语培训

杨牧《让风朗诵》英译

1

假如我能为你写一首
夏天的诗,当芦苇
剧烈的繁殖,阳光
飞满腰际,且向
两脚分立处
横流。一面新鼓

对照着读,很有意思:)
破裂的时候,假如我能

为你写一首秋天的诗
在小船上摆荡
浸湿十二个刻度
当悲哀蜷伏河床
如黄龙,任凭山洪急湍
从受伤的眼神中飞升
流溅,假如我能为你

写一首冬天的诗
好像终于也为冰雪
为缩小的湖做见证
见证有人午夜造访
惊醒一床草草的梦
把你带到远远的省份
给你一盏灯笼,要你
安静地坐在那里等候
且不许你流泪

2

假如他们不许你
为春天举哀
不许编织
假如他们说
安静坐下
等候
一千年后
过了春天
夏依然是
你的名字
他们将把你
带回来 把你的
戒指拿走
衣裳拿走
把你的头发剪短
把你抛弃在我
忍耐的水之湄
你终于属于我

你终于属于我
我为你沐浴
给你一些葡萄酒
一些薄荷糖
一些新衣裳
你的头发还会
长好,恢复从前的
模样,夏依然是
你的名字

那时我便为你写一首
春天的诗,当一切都已经
重新开始——
那么年轻,害羞
在水中看见自己终于成熟的
影子,我要让你自由地流泪
设计新装,制作你初夜的蜡烛

那时你便让我写一首
春天的诗,写在胸口
心跳的节奏,血的韵律
乳的形象,痣的隐喻
我把你平放在温暖的湖面
让风朗诵

Let the Wind Recite

Yang Mu

1

If I could write you
a summer poem, when reeds
spread vigorously, when sunshine
swirls around your waist and
surges toward your spread
feet, when a new drum
cracks in the heat; if I

rocking gently in a skiff
riding down to the twelfth notch
could write you an autumn poem
when sorrow crouches on the riverbed
like a golden dragon, letting torrents and rapids
rush and splash and swirl upward
from wounded eyes; if I could write you

a winter poem
a final witness to ice and snow
the shrunken lake
the midnight caller
who interrupts a hurried dream
takes you to a distant province
gives you a lantern, and tells you
to sit quietly and wait
no tears allowed…

2

If they wouldn’t allow you
to mourn for spring
or to knit
if they said
sit down quietly
and wait—
a thousand years later
after spring
summer would still be
your name—
they’d bring you back, take away
your ring
and clothes
cut your hair short
and abandon you
by the edge of the enduring lake—
then at last you’d belong to me

At last you’d belong to me
I’d bathe you
and give you a little wine
a few mints
some new clothes
Your hair would
grow back the way it was
before. Summer would still be
your name

3

Then I’d write you
a spring poem, when everything
begins again
So young and shy
you’d see an image of maturity. I’d let you shed tears freely
I’d design new clothes and make a candle for your wedding night
Then you’d let me write
a spring poem on your breasts
in the rhythm of a beating heart, the melody of blood:
breast images and the birthmark metaphor
I’d lay you on the warm surface of the lake
and let the wind recite



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