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雙語·《西爾維婭·普拉斯詩集》 蜜蜂會議

所屬教程:譯林版·西爾維婭·普拉斯詩集

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2022年07月16日

手機版
掃描二維碼方便學習和分享

The Bee Meeting
蜜蜂會議

Who are these people at the bridge to meet me? They are the villagers——
橋上迎接我的那些人是誰?他們是村民——

The rector, the midwife, the sexton, the agent for bees.
教區(qū)長,助產婆,教堂司事,蜜蜂代理商。

In my sleeveless summery dress I have no protection,
我穿著夏天無袖的連衣裙,我沒有任何保護,

And they are all gloved and covered, why did nobody tell me?
而他們都戴著手套,全身遮住,為何沒人告訴我?

They are smiling and taking out veils tacked to ancient hats.
他們微笑著,拿出臉罩固定在老式的帽子上。

I am nude as a chicken neck, does nobody love me?
我像雞脖子那樣光裸,有人喜歡我嗎?

Yes, here is the secretary of bees with her white shop smock,
有,穿著白色商店工作服的養(yǎng)蜂會秘書,

Buttoning the cuffs at my wrists and the slit from my neck to my knees.
扣上我雙腕袖口上的紐扣,拉上脖子到膝蓋的縫口。

Now I am milkweed silk, the bees will not notice.
我像乳草般單薄,蜜蜂不會注意。

They will not smell my fear, my fear, my fear.
它們不會嗅出我的害怕,我的害怕,我的害怕。

Which is the rector now, is it that man in black?
哪位是教區(qū)長,穿黑衣的男子?

Which is the midwife, is that her blue coat?
哪位是助產婆,穿藍衣的那位?

Everybody is nodding a square black head, they are knights in visors,
每個人都在點著方形的黑頭,他們像帶著面罩的騎士,

Breastplates of cheesecloth knotted under the armpits.
干酪包布做成胸甲在腋窩下打結。

Their smiles and their voices are changing. I am led through a beanfield.
他們的微笑和聲音在變化。他們領著我穿過豆田。

Strips of tinfoil winking like people,
一條條閃光的錫紙好像在眨眼,

Feather dusters fanning their hands in a sea of bean flowers,
羽毛撣子在大片豆花中煽動它們的手,

Creamy bean flowers with black eyes and leaves like bored hearts.
乳色豆花嵌著黑色的眼,而葉子像疲憊的心。

Is it blood clots the tendrils are dragging up that string?
卷須在那根藤向上拖著的是血塊嗎?

No, no, it is scarlet flowers that will one day be edible.
不,不是,而是將來可食用的深紅色花。

Now they are giving me a fashionable white straw Italian hat
他們給我戴上時尚的白色意大利草帽

And a black veil that molds to my face, they are making me one of them.
黑色的臉罩遮蓋臉,我成為他們中的一員。

They are leading me to the shorn grove, the circle of hives.
他們帶我到山楂樹叢,蜂巢圍成圈。

Is it the hawthorn that smells so sick?
是山楂聞起來如此惡心?

The barren body of hawthorn, etherizing its children.
山楂赤裸的身體,迷醉它的孩子們。

Is it some operation that is taking place?
正在進行某種手術?

It is the surgeon my neighbors are waiting for,
外科醫(yī)生正是我鄰居等待的人,

This apparition in a green helmet,
戴著綠色頭盔的幽靈,

Shining gloves and white suit.
閃亮的手套,白色的套裝。

Is it the butcher, the grocer, the postman, someone I know?
是屠夫,雜貨商,郵遞員,我認識的某個人?

I cannot run, I am rooted, and the gorse hurts me
我不能跑,我已長根,金雀花傷了我。

With its yellow purses, its spiky armory.
以其黃色的小包,帶刺的錦囊。

I could not run without having to run forever.
我一旦奔跑就永遠地跑下去。

The white hive is snug as a virgin,
白色的蜂巢舒適像處女,

Sealing off her brood cells, her honey, and quietly humming.
封隔她的孵房,她的蜜,輕聲嗡嗡響。

Smoke rolls and scarves in the grove.
煙霧縈繞,樹叢里的頭巾。

The mind of the hive thinks this is the end of everything.
聰明的蜂巢以為一切都結束了。

Here they come, the outriders, on their hysterical elastics.
它們挪動著,先驅者,情緒激動仿佛松緊帶。

If I stand very still, they will think I am cow-parsley,
若我站著不動,它們認為我是峨參植物,

A gullible head untouched by their animosity,
輕信的頭腦不為它們的憎恨所打動,

Not even nodding, a personage in a hedgerow.
即使點頭也不,樹籬里的名人。

The villagers open the chambers, they are hunting the queen.
村民們打開小房,他們在找尋蜂后。

Is she hiding, is she eating honey? She is very clever.
她藏起來了?她在吃蜜?她非常聰明。

She is old, old, old, she must live another year, and she knows it.
她太老了,老了,老了,她必須再活一年,她知道。

While in their fingerjoint cells the new virgins
而在它們指關節(jié)寬的蜂房里,新的處女蜂

Dream of a duel they will win inevitably,
夢想一場它們必然會贏的決斗,

A curtain of wax dividing them from the bride flight,
一道蠟簾將它們與新娘騰飛阻隔,

The up flight of the murderess into a heaven that loves her.
女兇手向上飛進天堂去愛她。

The villagers are moving the virgins, there will be no killing.
村民們在移動處女蜂,不會有殘殺。

The old queen does not show herself, is she so ungrateful?
老蜂后沒有現身,她這樣不懂感激嗎?

I am exhausted, I am exhausted——
我筋疲力盡,我筋疲力盡——

Pillar of white in a blackout of knives.
白色的柱仿佛刀光中的昏暗。

I am the magician’s girl who does not flinch.
我是魔術師的女兒,我不會退縮。

The villagers are untying their disguises, they are shaking hands.
村民們在脫去他們的保護裝,他們在握手。

Whose is that long white box in the grove, what have they accomplished, why am I cold.
樹林里的白色長箱是誰的,他們完成了什么,為何我發(fā)冷。

(1962/10/03. pp.211—212. No. 176)
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