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《希腊人魂》姜海舟译

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ROMIOSINI
希腊人魂
BY YANNIS RITSOS
作者:扬尼斯•里索斯

I
Those trees are not made for a lesser sky,
这些树不适合有限的天空,
those rocks are not made for the heels of strangers,
这些岩石不适合陌生人的鞋跟,
those faces are made only for the sun,
这些面孔只适合太阳,
those hearts are made only for justice.
这些心只适合正义。 
 
This place is as harsh as silence,
这个地方严酷如同沉默,
clasps its fiery stones to its breast,
把它火一样的石头抱到怀里,
clasps in light its orphaned olive trees and vineyards,
把它孤儿般的橄榄树和葡萄园投入光中,
clenches the teeth. There is no water-only light.
紧紧咬住。没有水——只有光。
The road is lost in light and the shadow of the wall is iron.
道路消失在光里,连墙的影子都是铁一样的。 
 
Trees, rivers and voices have turned to marble in the whitewash of the sun.
树木,河流和声音历经太阳的粉饰都成了大理石。
The root stumbles on the marble. The dusty lentisks.
绊在大理石上的根。满是尘土的乳香树。
The mule and the rock. They gasp. No water .
骡子和岩石。它们气喘吁吁。没有水。
All are thirsty. For years now. All chew a mouthful of sky to choke down their bitterness.
他们都渴了。好多年了。为了吞下痛苦,他们大口咀嚼天空。 
 
Their eyes are red from the vigil
他们的眼睛因为熬夜是红的
a deep line wedged between their eyebrows
一道沟深楔在眉毛之间
like a cypress between two mountains at sunset.
像落日下两山之间的一棵柏树。 

Their hand is glued to the gun
他们手不离枪
the gun is an extension of their arm
枪支是他们手臂的延伸
their arm is an extension of their soul
手臂是他们灵魂的延伸——

they have wrath upon their lips
他们把怒气置于嘴唇
and grief, deep deep within their eyes,
而把伤痛深深地置入眼睛
like a star in a salt pit.
仿佛盐坑里的星星。 
 
When they tighten their grip, the sun is certain for the world
当他们握紧拳头,世界无疑充满阳光
when they smile, a small swallow flees from within their fierce beards
当他们微笑,一只小燕子从它们凶猛的胡须深处逃出
when they sleep, twelve stars fall from heir empty pockets
当他们熟睡,十二颗星星从他们空空的囊中掉落
when they are killed, life marches up high with banners and with drums.
当他们被杀,生命举着旗子和着鼓点迈向高处。 
 
For so many years all are hungry, all are thirsty, all are killed
这么多年他们全都饿了,全都渴了,全都被杀了
besieged by land and sea,
被陆地和大海包围着,
scorching heat devoured their fields and the brine drenched their houses
似火的高温吞噬了他们的田地,海水浸泡了他们的房子
the wind knocked down their doors and the few lilac trees in the square
风推倒了他们的门,空地里只有几株丁香树
death comes and goes through the holes in their overcoats
死亡从他们外套的破洞进进出出
their tongues are as acrid as cypress cones
他们的舌头苦涩如柏树果
their dogs died wrapped in their shadows
他们死去的狗裹在牠们自己的影子里
the rain beats down on their bones.
雨水击打在牠们的骨头上。 

Stone-still in their lookouts, they smoke cow dung and the night
石头一样寂静,他们在瞭望台上把牛粪和夜晚当烟抽
and keep watch over the frenzied sea where
守望着狂暴的大海
the broken mast of the moon has sunk.
那里折断的月亮的桅杆已经沉没。 

The bread gone, the bullets gone
面包没有了,子弹没有了
now they load their cannons only with their hearts.
此刻只能把他们的心装进大炮。 
 
So many years besieged by land and sea
这么多年被陆地和海洋包围
all are starved, all are killed, and no one has died
他们全都遭受饥荒,全都被杀,可没有一个已经消亡——
in their lookouts their eyes glow
他们在瞭望台上目光炯炯
an enormous banner, an enormous fire flame-red
如一面巨大无比的旗帜,一团巨大无比的红色烈焰
and at every dawn thousands of doves soar out of their hands
而每当黎明来临,成千上万的鸽子从他们的手中腾飞
toward the four gates of the horizon.
飞向那四扇地平线的大门。 

II
Each time night falls with the singed thyme at the bosom of the rock
每一次夜幕降临,麝香草都已经烤焦在岩石的胸膛
there's a drop of water that for ages now digs to the marrow of silence
那是一滴水长年累月地钻入到沉默的骨髓
there's a bell hung from the old plane tree and it cries out the years.
那是一口钟挂在老悬铃木上呼喊岁月。 

Sparks sleep lightly on the cinders of desolation
火花放松地睡在废墟的灰烬上
and the roofs ponder the gilded down on the upperlip of July
屋顶掂量着七月上唇镀金的绒毛
yellow down like the cornsilk smoked by the sorrow of sunset.
——黄色的绒毛像是被落日的悲哀熏过的玉米须。 

The Holy Virgin lies down amid the myrtles with her wide skirt stained by grapes.
圣母躺在桃金娘中,穿着被葡萄弄上污渍的宽大裙子。
On the road a child cries and is answered from the plain by the ewe who has lost her little ones.
有个孩子在路上哭喊,而平地上失去孩子的母羊回应着。  

Shade at the spring. The water in the barrel is ice cold.
阴影笼罩泉水。桶里的水冰冷。
The farrier's daughter with soaked feet.
浸湿双脚的铁匠的女儿。
Bread and olives on the table,
面包和橄榄已上桌,
the lantern of the evening star in the vine-trellis
葡萄架下是晚星的灯盏
and high up there, turning on its spit, the galaxy gives off aromas
更高处,银河打开它的烤肉架,释放出
of sizzling fat, garlic and pepper.
咝咝作响的脂肪,大蒜和胡椒的香味。  

Oh, what starbright of silk will still be needed
哦,还需什么丝线般的星光
for the pineneedles to embroider "This, too, will pass" into the singed wall of summer
为松针把“这一定会过去的”绣到夏天火烫的墙上
how much longer will the mother wring her heart over the slaughter of her seven brave lads
那位母亲才不再为她七个被屠杀的儿子而心碎
before the light finds its way up the steep road of her soul?
在光明从她陡峭的灵魂之路上找到方向之前? 

This bone that emerges from the earth
这根从地下冒出的骨头
measures yard by yard the earth and the strings of the lute
一尺尺丈量大地和鲁特琴弦
and the lute and violin from evening to daybreak
从傍晚直至破晓,鲁特琴伴随着小提琴
tell their sorrows to the mint and pinetrees
向薄荷与松树述说它们的悲痛
and the riggings on the ships vibrate like strings
船只上,帆索琴弦般颤动
and the sailor drinks the bitter sea from the cup of Odysseus.
水手从奥德修斯的杯中喝着苦涩的海水。  

Ah, who then will block the entrance and which sword will cut the courage
呵,此时谁会阻挡这关口,哪一把剑能阻断勇气
and what key will lock the heart, its window-shutters wide open
什么钥匙会把心锁住——它敞开的百叶窗
as it watches the star-sown gardens of God?
在它注视繁星点点的神之花园时? 

Great is the hour, like Saturday nights in May at the sailors' tavern
钟点真棒,像是在水手的酒馆度过五月星期六的夜晚
great is the night, like the pan on the tinker's wall
夜真棒,恰似挂在补锅匠墙上的平底锅
great is the ballad, like the bread at the sponge-fisher's supper.
民谣真棒,如同捕海绵者晚餐的面包。 

And there, the Cretan moon rushes downhill on the shingles
看那里,克里特岛的月亮从小圆石上冲下
tap, tap, with twenty rows of cleats on its boots
踢踏,踢踏,和着靴底的二十道楔子
and there they are, those who go up and down the stairs of Náfplion
看,他们上下于纳夫普利翁城的阶梯
filling their pipes with coarse-cut leaves of darkness,
把黑暗当作粗切的烟叶填充着烟斗,
their moustaches, star-sprinkled thyme of Roúmeli
他们的八字须——星星一样撒开的努美利镇的百里香
and their teeth like pine-roots in the rock and salt of the Aegean.
他们的牙齿像松树根,在岩石和爱琴海的盐里。 
 
Into the chains they went and into the fire, they talked with the stones
他们赴汤蹈火,他们与石头谈话
they treated Death to raki in their grandfather's skull;
在祖先的头盖骨里,他们用葡萄酒款待死神;
on those same Threshing-Floors they met Digenis and sat down to dinner
在那些类似的打谷场,他们与英雄狄吉尼斯会面且共进晚餐
slicing their sorrow in two, just as they broke their barley-loaves on their knees.
把他们的痛苦各切一半,就像用膝盖折断面包条。 
 
Come, lady of the briny lashes, with smoke-gilded hand
来吧,睫毛上泪盈盈的淑女,带着熏黑的手
from the care of the poor, and from the many years
因为关照穷人,因为年积月累——
love awaits you among the rushes
你匆忙中,爱等待着
in his cave the seagull hangs your blackened icon
在它的洞穴海鸥悬挂起你的肖像
and the embittered sea urchin kisses your toenail.
心有怨恨的海胆也亲吻起你的脚趾甲。 
 
Within the black grape of the vineyard the must bubbles bright-red
葡萄园的黑葡萄内汁液冒着鲜红的泡泡
the berry bubbles in the burnt holly
浆果在烧毁的冬青树上沸腾
in the earth, the root of the dead asks for water to bring forth a fir tree
在土里,死亡之根为了展示杉树而寻找水
and a mother holds tight a knife beneath her wrinkles.
母亲却在自己皱纹的掩饰下紧握着一把刀。 

Come, lady who broods over the golden eggs of the thunder,
来吧淑女,孵着雷声的金蛋,
when, on which sea-blue day will you remove your kerchief and take up arms again
当海蓝色的一天到来,你将揭掉头巾再次拿起武器
so that May's hail will strike your forehead
好让五月的冰雹击打你的额头
so that the sun will burst like a pomegranate in your homespun apron
好让太阳在你自制围裙上像石榴一样绽放
so that alone you will divide him seed by seed among your twelve orphans
好让你独自把它一粒一粒分给你的十二个孤儿
so that the sea will glitter all around, like the blade of the sword and April's snow,
好让大海能到处闪闪发光,就像剑刃和四月的雪,
so that the crab will emerge onto the pebbles to sun himself and cross his claws.
好让螃蟹出现在卵石上,朝着太阳架起牠的钳子。 
 
III
Over here the sky doesn't sap the oil of our eyes even for a moment
这里,天空不消耗我们眼中的燃油,哪怕只是一会儿
over here the sun shoulders half the weight of the rock we're always lifting on our backs.
这里,太阳分担我们背负岩石的一半重量
Roof tiles break without gasp under the knee of noon
正午的膝盖下,房瓦破裂,连喘息的声音都没发出
people walk ahead of their own shadows like the dolphins before the caiques of Skiathos
在自己的影子前行走的人们像斯基亚索斯轻舟前的海豚
later their shadow becomes an eagle that dyes his wings in the sunset
随后他们的影子成为一只鹰,把翅膀画在落日上
and later still perches on their heads and thinks of the stars
再后来,停到他们的头上想着星星
when they lie down on the sun porch amidst the black raisin.
这时他们躺在黑葡萄干环绕的阳光廊道上。 
 
Over here every door has a name carved on it, a name some three thousand years old
这里每扇门都刻有一个名字,一个大约三千岁的名字
every rock has painted on it a saint with wild eyes and rope-like hair
每一块岩石上都画有一位眼睛狂野头发像绳的圣人
every man has a red mermaid tattooed on his left arm, stitch by stitch
每一个汉子左臂都纹有一幅红色鱼美人,一针一针的
every girl has a fistful of salted light under her skirt
每一位姑娘裙下都有一把咸的光亮
and the children have five or six small golden crosses on their hearts
而孩子们有五六个金色的小十字架在他们的心上
like gulls' tracks on the afternoon sand.
像午后沙滩上海鸥的足迹。 
 
You don't have to remember. We know it.
不用记。我们知道。
All trails lead to the Upper-Threshing-Floors. Up there the air's sharp.
所有小径都通往更高的打谷场。那上面空气猛烈。  

When the Minoan fresco of sunset frays in the distance
随着描述落日的米诺安壁画在远处脱落
and the fire in the haylofts of the shore dies out
海岸草棚的火褪去
the old women climb up this far on the steps carved in the rock
老太太们爬到了岩石凿出的阶梯上
they sit on the Great Rock and spin the sea like thread with their eyes
她们坐在伟大之石上用眼睛编织大海
they sit and count the stars as if they were counting their heirloom silverware
她们坐下数星星就像数着家传的银器
and down they climb late in the day to feed their grandchildren the gunpowder of Messolonghi.
天晚了她们就下来,去喂孙儿们米索隆的火药。  

Yes, truly, the Chained One has such sad hands in shackles
确实,那监禁的王子被铐的双手如此悲哀
but his eyebrow stirs above his bitter eye like a rock that's always about to come loose.
但是他的眉毛在严厉的眼睛之上搅动,如欲坠的岩石。
From deep down the wave arises that heeds no entreaties
波浪不理会如何去乞求,从深处升起
from way up high, the air rolls down with resin in its vein and sage in its lung.
从更远的高处,带着它血管里的树脂和肺里的香草,空气翻滚下来。 
 
Ah, it'll blow once to sweep the orange trees of memory
啊,它一阵风就能扫去记忆的橘树
ah, it'll blow twice so the iron rock will strike a spark like a percussion cap
啊,它吹过两次,坚硬的岩石就会如引信般打出火花
ah, it'll blow three times and drive the fir woods mad in Liákoura
啊,它吹过三次,帕纳塞斯山的枞树林就会汹涌
and strike a blow with its fist smashing tyranny to pieces
就会一拳砸碎专横
and jerk the bear of night by her nose ring to dance for us a tsámiko on the bulwarks
就会拽住夜晚之熊的鼻环在堡垒上为我们跳恰米卡舞
and the moon will play the tambourine till the islands' balconies are filled with crowds of
月亮也会打起手鼓直至岛屿的阳台挤满了半醒的孩子和苏利奥公社的母亲们。
half-awakened children and Souliot mothers. 

A messenger arrives every morning from the Great Ravine,
每个早晨,那伟大的山谷的信使都会到来,
on his face the sweaty sun shines
脸上汗涔涔阳光闪烁
under his arm he holds on firmly to Romiosyni
他的臂膀紧紧夹住希腊人魂
as the worker holds on to his cap in church.
就像在教堂里,工人握住帽子。
The time has come, he says. Be ready.
时机已经到来了,他说,做好准备。
Each hour belongs to us.
每一个小时都属于我们。 
 
IV
With the hungry man's disdain they marched straight ahead into the dawn,
汉子们不屑饥饿,他们直接迈向黎明,
in their motionless eyes a star had congealed
不动声色的眼中凝固着一颗星星
on their shoulders they carried the wounded summer.
肩上扛着受伤的夏天。 
 
The army passed through here, banners next to the skin
队伍经过这里,旗帜贴着他们的皮肤
clenching obstinance in their teeth like an unripe wild pear
倔强咬在嘴里像咬住酸涩的野梨
with the sand of the moon in their boots
他们军靴里有月光的沙子
and the coaldust of night stuck in their nostrils and ears.
鼻孔和耳朵塞满夜的煤屑。 

Tree by tree, rock by rock they passed through the world
一颗颗树,一块块石,他们经历世界
with thorns as pillows they passed through sleep.
他们经受荆棘当枕的睡眠。
In their two parched hands they carried life like a river.
承载的生活在他们晒焦的双手中如河流注入。 
 
With each step they'd win another fathom of sky-to give it away.
每前进一步他们就赢得几尺天空——去赠与。
In their lookouts they'd turn stone-still like burnt trees
在瞭望台里,他们寂静如烧焦的树
and when they danced in the square
而当他们在广场上跳舞
ceilings shook in the houses and glassware rattled on the shelves.
屋子里天花板抖动,架子上玻璃器具碰撞发出响声。 
 
Ah, what song jolted the mountaintops
啊,什么歌声地动山摇——
between their knees they held the platter of the moon and they'd eat
他们把月亮的大盘放在膝上用餐
and they'd break the sigh in the depths of their hearts
他们会从心底发出一声叹息
as they would crush a louse between their two thick fingernails.
当他们要用厚厚的指甲掐碎虱子时。 
 
Who'll bring you now the warm loaf of bread in the night so you can feed the dreams?
谁会在夜里及时送上温暖的面包让你可延续美梦?
Who'll keep the cicada company in the shadow of the olive tree so the cicada won't fall silent
谁会橄榄树荫下陪伴知了以免它陷入沉寂
now that the whitewash of noon paints the wall of the horizon all around
既然中午的石灰水涂满了地平线的石墙
erasing their great manly names?
正在擦去他们伟大雄壮的名字? 
 
This earth was fragrant at dawn
这片土地破晓时分喷香
this earth that was both theirs and ours-their blood-what aromas the earth gave off!
这片土地是他们的也是我们的——他们的血液——何等芬芳自大地散发!——
and now how is it that our vineyards have locked their door to us
那么现在我们的葡萄园怎么对我们关上了门
how has the light thinned out on roofs and trees
光亮怎么在根和树上已褪去
who can bear to say that half lie beneath the earth,
谁愿意承认一半人生在地下,
the other half in chains?
另一半在牢狱? 

With so many leaves the sun bids you a good-day
阳光和这么多树叶向你问候美好一天
with so many banners the sky shines
飘扬这么多旗帜的天空发着光
and yet these men are in chains and those in the ground.
可是这些汉子在狱中,那些已在地下。 
 
Keep quiet-any moment now the bells will toll.
肃静——现在钟随时都会敲响。
This earth is theirs and ours.
这片土地是他们的也是我们的。
Beneath the earth, in their crossed hands
地面下,在他们握在一起的双手中
they hold the bellrope waiting for the hour, they do not sleep, they never die
他们握住钟绳等待着时辰到来,他们不睡,他们永不死亡
waiting to sound the resurrection. This earth
等待宣告重生。这片土地
is theirs and ours-no one can take it from us.
是他们的也是我们的——谁也不能拿走。  

v
In the afternoon they sat under the olive trees
下午他们坐在橄榄树下
sifting the ashy light with their thick fingers
用粗大的手指筛着灰蒙蒙的光
they took off their cartridge belts and figured how much toil could fit into the path of night
他们脱下弹夹袋,估量着还需跋涉多少夜路
how much bitterness in the knots of the wild mallow
还需经受野锦葵丛中的多少苦痛
how much courage into the eyes of the barefoot child who was holding the flag.
多少勇气在那个举着旗子光着脚的孩子眼中。

The last swallow had lingered too long on the plain,
最后的燕子在平原上徘徊太久,
was hovering in the air like a black band on the sleeve of autumn.
好像秋天袖子上的黑带子盘旋在空中。
Nothing else remained. Only the burnt-out houses smoldered still.
没剩下别的什么。只有烧毁的房屋仍有暗火。

Those lying under the rocks left us some time ago,
那些躺在石头下的不久前离开了我们,
their shirts torn and their oath written on the fallen door.
他们的衬衣撕开,他们的誓言写在坍塌的门道。
No one cried. We had no time. But the silence quickly widened
没人哭泣。我们没有时间。但是沉寂迅速扩散
and the light down on the beach was neat and tidy like the household of the murdered woman.
光亮落在海滩上干净利落,如同被杀女子的管家。

What'll happen to them now when the rain seeps into the ground
with the rotting leaves of the plane tree?
当雨水渗入带有悬铃木腐叶的地面,他们会怎样
what'll happen when the sun dries on the cloud's blanket
like a crushed bedbug on the farmer's bed
当太阳晒干云的床单如同农夫床上掐瘪的臭虫,
when the stork of snow stands embalmed on the chimney in the evening?
当傍晚不朽的雪鹳站在烟囱上,又会发生什么?
The aged mothers cast salt in the fire, scatter earth over their hair
年迈的母亲们把盐抛到火里,把土撒在他们的头发上
they uproot the vineyards of Monemvasia lest even one black grape sweeten the enemy's mouth
她们把莫奈姆瓦夏的葡萄园连根拔起,生怕还有一粒黑葡萄甜了敌人的嘴
they put their grandfathers' bones along with the silverware into a sack
她们把祖上的尸骨和银器一起装进麻袋
and wander outside the walls of their homeland searching for a place to sink roots in the night.
徘徊在夜晚故乡的城墙外寻找着扎根之地。

Now it'll be hard for us to find words less powerful, less stony than that of the cherry tree—
现在相比樱桃树的表达再没有更加无力,冷酷的词语——
those hands that stayed in the fields or on the mountains or under the sea do not forget—
别忘记那些留在战场上或山岗上和海底下的手——
it'll be hard for us to forget their hands
我们不会忘记他们的手
hard for the hands that got callouses from the trigger to ask a daisy
那些在枪机上磨出老茧的手难以去要一枝雏菊
to say thank you on their knees, on a book, on the starlight's breast.
去跪着说谢谢,在书上,在星光的胸膛。

It'll take time. And we must speak up.
这样太费时。我们就必须大声说。
Until they find their bread and their justice.
直到他们获得面包和公正。

Two oars stuck in the sand at dawn in the storm. Where' s the boat?
黎明,双桨陷在暴风骤雨的沙滩上。船在哪?
A plow thrust into the ground and the wind blows.
一副犁插入地面,风刮起。
The ground's burnt. Where' s the plowman?
地面烧焦了。耕地的农夫在哪?
The olive tree, the vineyard and the house---ashes.
橄榄树,葡萄园和房屋——成了灰烬。
Stingy night with her stars in a sock.
吝啬的夜晚和她的星星藏在一只袜子里。
Dry bay leaves and oregano in the wall cupboard. Untouched by the fire.
干燥的月桂叶和牛至草藏在壁橱里。火无法企及。
A blackened kettle in the fireplace---only the water boiling
一只漆黑的水壶在壁炉里——只有水在锁着的屋子里沸腾。
in the locked-up house. They had no time to eat.
他们来不及吃饭。

On the burnt door-leaf the veins of the forest---blood flows in the veins.
烧毁的门页上是森林的静脉——血在里面流动。
And there's the familiar step. Who is it?
而且那里有熟悉的脚步声。是谁?
The familiar step with the spikes, climbing.
熟悉的脚步声带有鞋钉,在攀登。
The crawling of the root in the rock. Someone's coming.
岩石中根在爬行。有人正过来。
The password, the countersign. A brother. Good evening.
口令,回口令。是兄弟。晚上好。

So then, the light will find its trees, and one day the tree will find its fruit.
原来是这样,光会找到它的树,树总有一天会找到它的果实。
The flask of the dead man still has water and light.
死去男人的火药桶仍然有水和光。
Good evening, my brother. You know it. Good evening.
晚上好,我的兄弟。你知道这个。晚上好。
In her wooden hut old Lady Sunset sells spices and thread.
在她的木屋,落日老太卖着香料和线。
No one's buying. They made for the high ground.
没人在买。他们身处高地。
Hard now to come down.
很难下来。
Hard even to tell their height.
他们甚至不知道自己的高度。

On the threshing-floor where the brave young men ate one night,
勇敢的年轻人夜间就餐过的打谷场上,
olive pits and the dried blood of the moon are left
剩下橄榄窖和月亮的血迹
along with the folk meter of their guns.
连同他们武器中民谣的节奏。

The next day the sparrows ate the crumbs from their bread ration,
第二天麻雀吃了他们军队配给的面包屑,
from matches that lit their cigarettes and the thorns of the stars, the children made toys.
用他们点烟的火柴与星星的刺,孩子们制造玩具。

And the rock on which they sat under the olive trees in the afternoon, facing the sea,
下午他们在橄榄树下坐着的那块岩石,面向大海,
will become quicklime in the kiln tomorrow,
明天将在炉中成为石灰,
the day after tomorrow we'll whitewash our houses and the doorstep of St. Savior
后天我们将用来粉刷房子和救世主的门阶
the day after that we'll plant the seed where they slept
那之后我们将把种子播在他们长眠的地方
and a pomegranate bud will burst like a baby's first laugh at the breast of sunshine.
一枚石榴花蕾将会盛开,像吮吸着阳光乳汁的婴儿发出第一声笑。

And later still we'll sit on the rock to read all their hearts
再后来我们仍然会坐在那岩石上阅读他们全部的心
as if we were reading for the first time the history of the world.
犹如我们第一次在阅读世界历史。
[ 此帖被姜海舟在2015-05-02 23:53重新编辑 ]
级别: 创始人
1楼  发表于: 2015-02-23  
姜兄新春好!喜欢这组诗,期待整体译出。
仰天曾大笑,低首更沉吟
级别: 一年级
2楼  发表于: 2015-02-24  
回 1楼(孟冲之) 的帖子
冲之好! 很高兴冲之喜欢。这是杨尼斯最著名的长诗。杨尼斯是世界最好的诗人之一,9次被提名诺贝尔,都因为他的政治倾向而没获得(所以诺贝尔奖也不可信)。聂鲁达在他自己被提名诺贝尔奖时就说:“我知道,另外一个人比我更有资格获得这个奖——扬尼斯•里索斯”。 "When Pablo Neruda was nominated  for the Nobel, he said that he knew "of someone better qualified for this honor: Yannis Ritsos."

音乐版《希腊人魂》:http://music.163.com/#/album?id=2060102

我会抽空慢慢译。
[ 此帖被姜海舟在2015-02-24 10:36重新编辑 ]
级别: 创始人
3楼  发表于: 2015-02-24  
回 2楼(姜海舟) 的帖子
谢谢!我待潜心学习。
仰天曾大笑,低首更沉吟
级别: 创始人
4楼  发表于: 2015-02-25  
有和塞弗里斯、埃尔蒂斯一脉相承的精神和气韵。不知他与他们谁先谁后。近十多年,我对西方诗歌极少涉猎,对这位诗人一无所知,真是惭愧。
仰天曾大笑,低首更沉吟
级别: 一年级
5楼  发表于: 2015-02-26  
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冲之兄,杨尼斯在后(Yannis Ritsos 1909-1990)。  8几年还在写。我们当时却对布罗斯基着迷。


1人物概述
扬尼斯·里索斯,二十世纪希腊著名诗人、现代希腊诗歌的创始人之一,生于莫涅瓦西亚,早年来到雅典读书,当过文书和演员,三十年代开始发表作品,1934年出版第一本诗集《拖拉机》。1936年,他为萨洛尼卡烟草工人罢工写成长诗《伊皮达菲奥斯》而一举成名,深得大诗人帕拉马斯的高度评价。二战期间,他投身于抵抗运动,二战结束后,他先后两度被囚禁、著作被禁,直到七十年代初才获释,作品才得以出版。里索斯一生创作勤奋而多产,迄今已出版了诗歌及其他文学作品近百卷,成为二十世纪希腊最为人所广泛阅读的大诗人,其不少诗作被谱成曲广为传唱,产生了世界性影响。他获得过列宁和平奖(1977)等多种国际文学大奖,并多次成为诺贝尔文学奖候选人。

2作品特色
里索斯的诗可以分为两大类:长篇叙事诗和短诗。他的诗作句子一般较长,常以严谨、浓所的白描手法反映
现代希腊人的生活,又颇具现代派特征,其最独特之处即其诗中所采用的“戏剧性独白”,其中的白描技法蕴藏象征、暗喻、转换和超现实的场景性,折射出希腊以至整个人类现实生活和精神状态,以及那些超乎于读者想象之外的、然而又确实存在于现实生活中的某些人类思维活动和行为,貌似荒诞,实则另有弦外之音。难怪法国超现实主义诗人路易·阿拉贡在1971年公开发表《当今最伟大的诗人名叫扬尼斯·里索斯》一文来推崇其作品。

[ 此帖被姜海舟在2015-02-26 16:01重新编辑 ]
级别: 创始人
6楼  发表于: 2015-02-27  
此诗以前没有中文译作吗?我觉得译得很好,应该让更多人了解这位大诗人。
仰天曾大笑,低首更沉吟
级别: 一年级
7楼  发表于: 2015-02-27  
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谢谢冲之肯定,我会尽力。。别的译本我在网上也找过,没找到。以前也没听说谁翻译过此诗。这么重要的诗歌,真希望有好的译本。

握手。
级别: 创始人
8楼  发表于: 2015-02-28  
一气呵成,奔流直下。译得也很精致,
仰天曾大笑,低首更沉吟
级别: 一年级
9楼  发表于: 2015-02-28  
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谢谢冲之肯定!  多批。  

握手。
级别: 总版主
10楼  发表于: 2015-03-04  
可圈可点!
级别: 创始人
11楼  发表于: 2015-03-05  
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三缘兄新春快乐!
仰天曾大笑,低首更沉吟
级别: 一年级
12楼  发表于: 2015-03-05  
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谢谢三元兄来看!握手。
级别: 创始人
13楼  发表于: 2015-03-06  
这一节似乎最带劲。希腊诗人都有着河流般的音域。他们的美都具强烈的动感。
仰天曾大笑,低首更沉吟
级别: 一年级
14楼  发表于: 2015-03-06  
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是,冲之。他还有更好的东西,我实在来不及翻。不过我会慢慢译出。我同时在译他80几首短的,临近他去世前写的,太好的诗歌了!
级别: 创始人
15楼  发表于: 2015-03-23  
我以为完了了呢,原来浪后还有浪。

偶然对照英文版看了几句,有一处似有错误:cicada 当是蝉而非蟋蟀。其下句说到正午,蟋蟀在正午时一般也不会鸣叫。姜兄请确定一下:

Who'll keep the cicada company in the shadow of the olive tree so the cicada won't fall silent
谁会橄榄树荫下陪伴蟋蟀以免它陷入沉寂
now that the whitewash of noon paints the wall of the horizon all around
既然中午的石灰水涂满了地平线的石墙
仰天曾大笑,低首更沉吟
级别: 一年级
16楼  发表于: 2015-03-23  
谢谢冲之!马上改正。
级别: 一年级
17楼  发表于: 2015-03-23  
再谢冲之!  

此诗总共7部分。后面几部分很长。
级别: 创始人
18楼  发表于: 2015-04-12  
回 17楼(姜海舟) 的帖子
姜兄:有事与你相商,给你发个信息,请查收。
仰天曾大笑,低首更沉吟
级别: 一年级
19楼  发表于: 2015-04-12  
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冲之兄,已回复,敬请查收。

握手。
级别: 一年级
20楼  发表于: 2015-04-15  
VI
And so with the sun in the breast of the sea whitewashing the opposite slope of the day
因此伴随着拥向大海的,粉饰着对面时下海滩的太阳
the bolt and torture of thirst are reckoned double and triple
门闩和干渴的折磨两倍三倍地增加着
the old wound is reckoned from the beginning
从一开始就积累的老伤复发了
and the heart's scorched in the heat like Argive onions in front of the doors.
炎热下烤焦的心也像门前的阿尔戈斯洋葱。

More and more their hands look like the earth
他们的手越来越像大地
more and more their eyes resemble the sky.
他们的眼睛越来越类似天空。

The clay oil jug is empty. Some sediment at the bottom. And the dead mouse.
土油罐空了。底下有沉积物。是死耗子。
The mother's courage has drained away along with the clay jug and the cistern.
母亲的勇气随同这油罐和贮水池一起流失了。
The gums of desolation are acrid with gunpowder.
荒凉的桉树散发着刺鼻的火药味。

Where will you find the oil now for Saint Barbara's lamp
现在哪里你能为圣芭芭拉的灯找来灯油
the mint for censing the gilded icon of evening
为熏香黄昏的镀金偶像找来薄荷
the bite of bread for beggar-night so she'll play you her star-song on the lyra.
为乞丐的夜找来一口面包,可以让她用里拉琴弹奏星辰之歌。

In the fort of the island heights, prickly pears and asphodels have turned to ghosts.
仙人掌和水仙在岛屿高高的堡垒里已变成了阴魂。
The earth's been plowed by cannon fire and graves.
大地被炮火和坟墓翻了个底朝天。
Ruined Headquarters patched with sky. There's no room at all
炸开的司令部被天空打上补丁。再没有一点空隙
for any more dead. No room for grief to stand and braid her hair.
给更多的死者。那里没有地方供悲伤站立和梳辫子。

Through empty eye sockets the burnt houses see the marbled sea in the distance
烧毁的房子透过空洞的眼窝看见远处大理石纹的海洋
and the bullets are wedged into the walls
子弹契入在墙壁里
like knives in the ribs of the Saint tied to the cypress.
像刀子刺进那捆在柏树上的圣人的肋骨。

All day long, the dead sun themselves, lying on their backs.
一整天死人都在躺着晒太阳。
And only when evening falls the soldiers drag themselves on their bellies over blackened rocks,
只有当夜晚降临,将士们用肚子在熏黑的岩石上拖行,
with their nostrils they search the air outside of death,
他们用鼻孔搜索死亡之外的气息,
chewing a piece of boot sole they search the moon's shoes,
他们嚼着一块靴底寻找月亮的鞋子,
with their fists they strike the rock to let the waterdrop run
他们用拳头击打岩石希望有水滴流动
but on the other side the wall's hollow
但是对面的墙已经塌陷
they hear again the whirling artillery shell falling into the sea
他们又听见旋转的炮弹落入海里
and once again they hear screaming of the wounded in front of the gate.
他们再一次听见大门前伤员的惨叫。

Where can you go? Your brother's calling you.
你能去哪里?你的兄弟在召唤你。
Night's built all around with shadows of foreign ships.
夜晚到处都由外国船只的阴影筑成。
The roads are blocked by fallen walls.
道路被残垣断壁堵塞。
Only toward the heights is the road still open.
只有通往高地的路仍然畅通。
And they curse the boats and bite their tongues
他们诅咒这些船,咬自己的舌头
to feel their pain that's not yet turned to bone.
在还未变成白骨之前用来确认自己的努力。

On the parapets stand the slaughtered captains guarding the fort.
被屠杀的军官们在女墙上站着,仍然守护着要塞。
Under their clothes their flesh decays. Hey, brother, aren't you tired?
他们的肉体在衣服底下腐烂。嗨,兄弟,你不累吗?
The bullet in your heart has budded,
子弹在你的心脏已经含苞欲放,
five hyacinths sprouted from the armpit of the dry rock,
五朵风信子从干燥的岩石的腋下发芽,
breath by breath the sweet scent tells the fairy tale-don' t you remember?
一次一次地呼吸,芬芳的气味讲述那个童话——你忘了吗?
Bite by bite, the wound tells you about life,
一口一口地咬,伤口告诉你生活的奥秘,
the camomile sprouted from the dirt of your toenail
甘菊从你脚趾甲的污垢长出
tells you about the beauty of the world.
告诉你有关世界的美。

You grasp the hand. It's your own, brine-damp.
你握住手。这是你自己的,带着海水的湿咸。
The sea's your own. When you uproot a hair from the head of silence
海是你自己的。当你从沉默的头上拔除一根头发
the milk of the fig tree drips bitter. Wherever you are, the sky sees you.
无花果树就滴下苦涩的汁液。无论你在哪里,天空看着你。

The evening star rolls your soul like a cigarette in his fingers
如同手指间的香烟,黄昏星滚动着你的灵魂
so you can smoke your soul as you lie on your back
因此你躺着吸着你灵魂的烟卷
wetting your left hand in the clear, starry night
在清澈,满是星星的夜晚里弄湿你的左手,
and, glued to your right hand, your rifle, your betrothed
你的右手不离来福枪,像是许配与你的人
remember that the sky has never forgotten you
记得天空从未忘却你
when you take your old letter from your inside pocket
当你从口袋深处拿出你的旧信
and, unfolding the moon with your burnt fingers, read of courage and glory.
用烧焦的手指展开月亮,阅读勇气和光荣。

Later you'll climb way up to your island lookout
不一会儿,你将登顶在你岛屿的了望台上
and using a star as a percussion cap pull off a shot in the air
把星星当作引信,向空中开一枪
over walls and masts
越过墙垣和桅杆
over mountains stooped like wounded soldiers
越过如中弹的士兵一样弯腰的山峦
just to scare the ghosts away and drive them into the shadow's cover—
只为了吓跑鬼魂,把它们赶进阴影的盖子——
you'll fire a shot straight at the breast of the heavens to hit the sky-blue target
你将直接一枪打向天空的胸膛击中天蓝的目标
as though you'll find through her blouse the woman's nipple
仿佛透过宽松的上衣你会发现女人的乳头
who tomorrow will breastfeed your child
她明天会给你的孩子吃奶
as though you'll find after years have passed the handle of the door of your ancestral house.
仿佛过了多年后,你将找到自己祖屋的门把。
级别: 创始人
21楼  发表于: 2015-04-16  
以后英文版也要细细看了,学几个单词总比乱逛好。
仰天曾大笑,低首更沉吟
级别: 一年级
22楼  发表于: 2015-04-16  
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级别: 总版主
23楼  发表于: 2015-04-22  
大作品慢慢品读!问好姜兄,问好孟兄!
级别: 总版主
24楼  发表于: 2015-04-22  
大作品慢慢品读!问好姜兄,问好孟兄!
级别: 一年级
25楼  发表于: 2015-05-02  
回 24楼(三缘) 的帖子
VII
The house, the road, the prickly pears, the chickens pecking at the sun's rinds in the yard.
房屋,道路,仙人掌,院子里正在啄太阳外壳的雏鸡。
We know them, they know us. Down here among the brambles
我们熟知它们,它们也熟知我们。来到这里,在黑莓丛中
the tree-snake has shed her yellow skin.
树蛇蜕去了她黄色的皮。

Down here's the ant's hut and the wasp's tower with its many battlements;
往里是蚂蚁的小屋,黄蜂的筑有众多城垛的堡垒;
in the same olive tree the shell of last year's cicada, the voice of this year's cicada
在同一棵橄榄树上,是去年的蝉壳,今年的蝉鸣
in the lentisks your shadow that follows you like a silent dog, long suffering,
乳香树上你的影子像沉默的狗一样跟着你,经受着苦难,
a faithful dog-afternoons he sits next to your earthen sleep and smells the oleanders,
是一条忠实的狗——下午他坐在你泥土里的睡眠旁,闻着夹竹桃,
evenings he curls up at your feet and looks at a star.
傍晚蜷缩在你的脚上望着星星。

There's a stillness of pears that grow at the legs of summer
这儿有长在夏天腿上的,梨的静止
a drowsiness of water idling about at the roots of the carob tree—
角豆树根旁游荡的,水的困意——
spring has three sleeping orphans on her apron
春天有三个熟睡的孤儿在她的围裙上
an eagle half dead in her eyes
一只半死的老鹰在她的眼睛里
and high up there, behind the pine forest
在那高处,松林背后
the country chapel of Saint John of the Fast dries out
乡间圣约翰隐士礼拜堂像白色的麻雀粪
like the sparrow's white dropping that the heat dries on a broad mulberry leaf.
在宽大的桑树上叶烘烤的太阳下干透。

This shepherd wrapped in his sheepskin
这裹着羊皮的牧羊人
has a dry river in every hair of his body
每根毛发里都有一条河流
has an oak forest in every hole of his flute
他的每一个笛孔里都有一个橡树林
and his staff has the same knots as the oar that first stroked the blue of the Hellespont.
他的牧杖有着和那只桨同样的树结,它率先在赫勒斯蓬特海峡的蓝色里划行。

You don't have to remember. The plane tree's vein
无需纪念。悬铃木树的叶脉里
has your blood. And the island asphodel and the caper.
有你的血液。也有海岛水仙和刺山柑。

At high noon the speechless well raises up
在正午,无言的井升起了
a round voice of black glass and white wind
黑玻璃和白色的风的,圆圆的声响
round like old clay jars-the same ancient voice.
圆得像土罐——古代同样地声响。

Every night the moon turns the dead over on their backs
每晚,月亮把死者反转过来让他们躺好
searches their faces with frozen fingers to find her son
查看他们的面孔,用冰冷的手指寻找她的儿子
by the cut of his jaw and his stone eyebrows;
依据下巴上的伤口和他石头般的眉毛;
she searches their packets. She'll always find something. We always find something.
她摸他们的口袋。她总会找到一些东西。我们总是发现一些东西。
A locket with a splinter of the Cross. A stubbed-out cigaretter.
一小片十字架吊坠。一个掐灭的烟蒂。
A key, a letter, a watch stopped at seven. Again we wind the watch. Time marches on.
一把钥匙,一封信,一只停在七点钟的表。我们把表重新上好发条。时间向前行进。

When tomorrow their clothes rot away and they're left naked amidst the buttons of their uniform
当明天,他们的衣服烂掉,他们裸露在军装的纽扣下
like pieces of sky left among the summer stars,
像夏天星星环绕的一片天空,
like a river between laurel shrubs,
像月桂树林间的一条河,
like a footpath meandering between lemon trees in early spring,
像早春柠檬树间的小径,
then maybe we'll find their names and shout: I love.
然后我们会找到他们的名字并大声呼喊:我爱。

Then. But again, those things seem perhaps a little far off,
然后。但再次,那些事物看来也许有点远,
and yet a little too close, as when you grasp a hand in the darkness and say Good evening
又有点太近,在你正抓住黑暗中的手说晚上好
with the bitter kindness of the exile when he returns home
他带着流放者苦涩的恩惠回到故乡
and not even his own people recognize him because he has known death
甚至自己的亲人也不接受他,因为他熟知死亡
and he has known the life before life and beyond death
因为他知晓前世后生
and he recognizes them. He is not bitter. Tomorrow, he says. And he's sure
他却接受他们。他不怨恨。明天他一定会说。他确信
that the longest road is the shortest to God's heart.
这最长的道路是通往上帝心灵最短的路。

And at the hour when the moon kisses him with some distress on the neck,
在这样的时刻,当月光带着悲痛在他脖子上亲吻
flicking his cigarette ash through the balcony railing, he may cry because of his certainty
在阳台栏杆上弹落烟灰,他会哭泣,因为他的确信
he may cry because of the certainty of the trees and the stars and his brothers.
他会哭泣,因为树、星星、以及他的兄弟们的确信。

Athens 1945-1947
1945——1947于雅典
[ 此帖被姜海舟在2015-05-03 16:21重新编辑 ]
级别: 创始人
26楼  发表于: 2015-05-02  
Re:《希腊人魂》(第1—6部分)姜海舟译
like the sparrow's white dropping that the heat dries on a broad mulberry leaf.
在宽大的桑树上叶烘烤的太阳下干透。

姜兄:这里好象漏译了麻雀粪便。
仰天曾大笑,低首更沉吟
级别: 一年级
27楼  发表于: 2015-05-03  
回 26楼(孟冲之) 的帖子
谢谢!我误译为鸟粪了,马上改过来。
非常感谢!
[ 此帖被姜海舟在2015-05-03 16:32重新编辑 ]
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