雙語·《西爾維婭·普拉斯詩集》 生日禮物

A Birthday Present
生日禮物

What is this, behind this veil, is it ugly, is it beautiful?
這是什么，藏在面紗后面，它丑陋嗎，它漂亮嗎？

It is shimmering, has it breasts, has it edges?
它在閃爍，它有乳房，它有邊緣嗎？

I am sure it is unique, I am sure it is what I want.
我肯定它是獨特的，我肯定它就是我要的。

When I am quiet at my cooking I feel it looking, I feel it thinking
我在安靜地烹飪，我感覺它在看，我感覺它在思考

‘Is this the one I am to appear for,
“這就是我要去見的人？

Is this the elect one, the one with black eye-pits and a scar?
這就是挑選的人，有黑眼眶、傷疤的人？

Measuring the flour, cutting off the surplus,
她在稱面粉，去掉多余的，

Adhering to rules, to rules, to rules.
遵守規(guī)定，守規(guī)定，守規(guī)定。

Is this the one for the annunciation?
就是要對這個人宣布嗎？

My god, what a laugh!’
我的上帝，多么可笑??！”

But it shimmers, it does not stop, and I think it wants me.
但它在閃爍，它不停止，我想它要我。

I would not mind if it were bones, or a pearl button.
我不會在意它是否是尸骨，或一顆珍珠紐扣。

I do not want much of a present, anyway, this year.
我并不需要許多禮物，至少，今年。

After all, I am alive only by accident.
畢竟，我活著純屬偶然。

I would have killed myself gladly that time any possible way.
那次我原本很樂意自殺了事，什么方法都行。

Now there are these veils, shimmering like curtains,
現(xiàn)在這些面紗，像窗簾在閃爍，

The diaphanous satins of a January window
一月的窗，半透明的綢緞

White as babies’ bedding and glittering with dead breath. O ivory!
潔白如嬰兒的被褥，卻散發(fā)死亡氣息。啊，象牙！

It must be a tusk there, a ghost-column.
它定是一根長牙，幽靈般的圓柱。

Can you not see I do not mind what it is.
你不明白，我并不在乎它是什么。

Can you not give it to me?
你不會把它給我吧？

Do not be ashamed—I do not mind if it is small.
不要感到羞愧——我不在意它是否小。

Do not be mean, I am ready for enormity.
不要小氣，我樂意它是巨大的。

Let us sit down to it, one on either side, admiring the gleam,
讓我倆挨著它坐下，一邊一個，欣賞那亮光，

The glaze, the mirrory variety of it.
那光澤，它折射出多樣化。

Let us eat our last supper at it, like a hospital plate.
讓我倆共享最后的晚餐，它多像醫(yī)院的餐具。

I know why you will not give it to me,
我知道你為何不把它給我，

You are terrified
你很害怕

The world will go up in a shriek, and your head with it,
這世界會在尖叫聲中上升，你會隨后，

Bossed, brazen, an antique shield,
浮雕式，黃銅制作，一個古老盾牌，

A marvel to your great-grandchildren.
你曾孫兒女以為是個奇跡。

Do not be afraid, it is not so.
不用擔(dān)心，并非如此。

I will only take it and go aside quietly.
我只帶上它，悄悄地離開。

You will not even hear me opening it, no paper crackle,
你不會聽見我打開它，沒有紙的沙沙聲，

No falling ribbons, no scream at the end.
沒有絲帶的散落，沒有最后的驚呼。

I do not think you credit me with this discretion.
我以為你不會稱贊我如此小心翼翼。

If you only knew how the veils were killing my days.
但愿你能了解這些面紗是如何毀掉我的生活。

To you they are only transparencies, clear air.
對你而言，它們只是些透明物體，清爽空氣。

But my god, the clouds are like cotton.
可我的上帝，那些云朵像棉花。

Armies of them. They are carbon monoxide.
它們很多很多。它們是一氧化碳。

Sweetly, sweetly I breathe in,
舒服地，舒服地，我吸入，

Filling my veins with invisibles, with the million
成千上萬，隱形卻注滿我的靜脈

Probable motes that tick the years off my life.
可能出現(xiàn)的斑點蠶食我生命的歲月。

You are silver-suited for the occasion. O adding machine——
你為此穿著銀色。啊，加算器——

Is it impossible for you to let something go and have it go whole?
你怎可能放手，讓它完整地離去？

Must you stamp each piece in purple,
你必須在每件物品上蓋上紫色章，

Must you kill what you can?
你必須消滅你可以消滅的？

There is this one thing I want today, and only you can give it to me.
今天我只要這一樣?xùn)|西，只有你可以給我。

It stands at my window, big as the sky.
它站在我窗戶邊，宏大若天空。

It breathes from my sheets, the cold dead center
它在我床單下呼吸，嚴寒如死亡中心

Where spilt lives congeal and stiffen to history.
溢出的生命變稠、凝固成歷史。

Let it not come by the mail, finger by finger.
不讓它郵寄過來，一根根手指。

Let it not come by word of mouth, I should be sixty
不讓它口頭轉(zhuǎn)述，全部轉(zhuǎn)述完

By the time the whole of it was delivered, and too numb to use it.
我將六十歲，太遲鈍不能用它了。

Only let down the veil, the veil, the veil.
只有放下那面紗，那面紗，那面紗。

If it were death
倘若它是死亡

I would admire the deep gravity of it, its timeless eyes.
我愿欣賞它的莊重，它恒久的雙眼。

I would know you were serious.
我愿了解你是認真的。

There would be a nobility then, there would be a birthday.
那時會有一種崇高，會有一個生日。

And the knife not carve, but enter
那刀不是切開，而是插入

Pure and clean as the cry of a baby,
純潔干凈如嬰兒的哭聲，

And the universe slide from my side.
于是宇宙從我身邊溜走。

(1962/09/30. pp.206—208. No. 173)
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