C.K. Williams: Poetry for all seasons of life

譯者: zhang haohan 審譯者: Josie Chen

I thought I would read poems I have that relate to the subject

我想要讀一些和這個主題相關的詩

of youth and age.

關於年輕與年老

I was sort of astonished to find out how many I have actually.

有些吃驚，我才發覺我寫了不少

The first one is dedicated to

第一首是獻給

Spencer, and his grandmother, who was shocked by his work.

斯潘塞（Spencer），以及他的祖母，她被他的作品給嚇壞了。

My poem is called "Dirt."

這首詩的題目是：灰塵

My grandmother is washing my mouth out with soap;

我的祖母正用肥皂刷我的嘴

half a long century gone

半個世紀過去了

and still she comes at me

而今她仍到我面前

with that thick cruel yellow bar.

帶著那塊又厚又殘忍的黃肥皂

All because of a word I said,

就因為我說的一個字

not even said really, only repeated.

其實也不是說，只是重複

But "Open," she says, "open up!"

但是，「張嘴！」她說道：「張開嘴！」

her hand clawing at my head.

她用手抓住我的頭

I know now her life was hard;

現在我知道她當時的生活艱苦

she lost three children as babies,

她失去了三個還在襁褓中的孩子

then her husband died too,

然後她丈夫也掛了

leaving young sons, and no money.

沒有錢，就留下幾個年幼的兒子。

She'd stand me in the sink to pee

她把着我在洗碗槽裡尿尿

because there was never room in the toilet.

因為廁所裡沒位置了

But oh, her soap!

可是，噢！她的肥皂！

Might its bitter burning have been

大概就是這苦苦的灼燒

what made me a poet?

讓我成了一名詩人？

The street she lived on was unpaved,

她住的那條街路面沒有鋪砌

her flat, two cramped rooms and a fetid kitchen

她的公寓，兩間房間擁擠狹小，廚房惡臭四溢

where she stalked and caught me.

她總在那裡盯著我，逮到我

Dare I admit that after she did it

我敢承認嗎？在她那麼對我之後

I never really loved her again?

我再也不曾愛她了

She lived to a hundred,

她活到了一百歲

even then. All along it was the sadness, the squalor,

即便那時，都還是傷心，邋遢

but I never, until now

但直到如今，我依然無法

loved her again.

再次愛她

When that was published in a magazine

這首詩刊登在雜誌上的時候

I got an irate letter from my uncle.

我叔叔寄了封充滿憤怒的信給我。

"You have maligned a great woman."

「你詆毀了一位偉大的女性。」

It took some diplomacy.

我還得圓滑地應付一下

This is called "The Dress."

接著這首詩叫作「家居服」

It's a longer poem.

是一首長詩

In those days,

那些日子裏

those days which exist for me only

在那些僅為我而存在

as the most elusive memory now,

如今成了最為曖昧不明的記憶的日子裏

when often the first sound you'd hear in the morning

當清晨時分往往你最先聽到的

would be a storm of birdsong,

是一陣鳥囀的轟鳴，

then the soft clop of the hooves

然後是輕柔的蹄踏聲

of the horse hauling a milk wagon down your block,

馬兒拉著運送牛奶的四輪車來到你的街區

and the last sound at night as likely as not

而晚間最後的聲響則多半

would be your father pulling up in his car,

來自你正在停車的父親

having worked late again, always late,

又一次工作晚歸，總是如此

and going heavily down to the cellar, to the furnace,

步伐沉重地往地窖，朝火爐走去

to shake out the ashes and damp the draft

將爐灰抖落，闔上進氣口

before he came upstairs to fall into bed --

在他上樓倒向床鋪以前

in those long-ago days,

那些遙遠的日子裏

women, my mother, my friends' mothers,

女人，我的母親、朋友的母親們、

our neighbors, all the women I knew --

旁鄰，所有我知道的女性

wore, often much of the day,

幾乎成天穿著

what were called housedresses,

被稱為家居服的洋裝

cheap, printed, pulpy,

廉價、印花、質地欠佳

seemingly purposefully shapeless

像是刻意掩藏身形似地

light cotton shifts that you wore over your nightgown

套在睡衣外的薄棉直筒連身裙

and, when you had to go look for a child,

好讓妳在必須照顧孩子時換上

hang wash on the line,

晾衣時換上

or run down to the grocery store on the corner,

或在跑向街角雜貨店的時候

under a coat,

穿在大衣底下，

the twisted hem of the nightgown

睡袍的蜷曲鑲邊

always lank and yellowed,

總是過長而泛黃的，

dangling beneath.

垂擺著

More than the curlers some of the women

簡直比某些女性

seemed constantly to have in their hair

為了某些重要場合 -- 好比一場舞會

in preparation for some great event --

而精心處理的髮捲

a ball, one would think --

更蜷曲得多

that never came to pass;

儘管這從未發生

more than the way most women's faces

那也比大多數女人

not only were never made up during the day,

不化妝時

but seemed scraped, bleached,

顯得粗糙、慘澹的肌膚

and, with their plucked eyebrows, scarily masklike;

並且剃去眉毛的臉龐還更嚇人，更像面具；

more than all that it was those dresses

真正可怕的是，正是這些家居服

that made women so unknowable and forbidding,

使女人變得如此平庸並且難以親近

adepts of enigmas to which men could have no access,

以致於成為男人眼中不能傾心

and boys no conception.

在男孩眼裡毫無遐想的女性

Only later would I see the dresses also

直到後來我才認識到那服裝

as a proclamation:

也代表這樣的宣言

that in your dim kitchen, your laundry,

在妳微暗的廚房裏、衣服堆中

your bleak concrete yard,

在妳不蔽風雨的水泥後院

what you revealed of yourself

妳所發掘出的

was a fabulation;

是屬於妳的美好國度

your real sensual nature,

妳那真實的感受天性

veiled in those sexless vestments,

即使被毫無生氣的樣板服裝掩藏著

was utterly your dominion.

依然全是妳轄下的領土

In those days, one hid much else as well:

那些日子裏，我們同樣掩藏了另外一些事

grown men didn't embrace one another,

成年之後男人不再擁抱彼此

unless someone had died,

除了在某人死去的場合

and not always then; you shook hands

但也不總是如此。你們只是握手

or, at a ball game, thumped your friend's back

或在一場球賽中用力地槌打朋友的背

and exchanged blows meant to be codes for affection;

或是互賞兩拳以示彼此情誼深厚；

once out of childhood you'd never again know

只是一旦遠離了童年你便不再記得

the shock of your father's whiskers on your cheek,

父親的鬍渣磨過臉頰時內心激起的騷動

not until mores at last had evolved,

直到你的終於歷經了一些事

and you could hug another man, then hold on for a moment,

又能再輕擁另一個男人，維持片刻

then even kiss (your fathers bristles

甚至吻頰

white and stiff now).

(這時你父親的鬍渣已經硬而花白了)

What release finally, the embrace:

最後是深深的擁抱

though we were wary -- it seemed so audacious --

儘管仍有些不自在──這舉動看來如此魯莽──

how much unspoken joy there was

在這樣親密的情感交融中

in that affirmation of equality and communion,

溢於言表的喜悅將有多少？

no matter how much misunderstanding

自那時起你所經歷過的一切

and pain had passed between you by then.

誤解和痛楚都無關緊要了

We knew so little in those days,

那些日子裏，我們幾近一無所知

as little as now, I suppose

一如此刻，我猜想

about healing those hurts:

關於療愈傷痛的方式：

even the women, in their best dresses,

即使女人都穿上了她們最好的洋裝

with beads and sequins sewn on the bodices,

上身綴飾著珠子和亮片

even in lipstick and mascara,

甚至塗上口紅和睫毛膏，

their hair aflow,

秀髮迎風飄揚，

could only stand wringing their hands,

卻也只能痛心地緊握雙手

begging for peace,

一心乞求寧靜

while father and son, like thugs,

因為那時的父親和孩子就像是無賴

like thieves, like Romans,

像是小偷、像古羅馬人那樣

simmered and hissed and hated,

令人髮指、生怨、厭恨

inflicting sorrows that endured,

強加她們以

the worst anyway,

無比的哀愁

through the kiss and embrace,

透過那吻頰、擁抱

bleeding from brother to brother,

在兄弟間流淌

into the generations.

流傳世代。

In those days there was still countryside

那些日子裏仍有鄰近城市的鄉間

close to the city, farms, cornfields, cows;

農莊、玉米田、牛群；

even not far from our building

甚至離我們居住的地方不遠

with its blurred brick and long shadowy hallway

那兒有久未修葺的磚頭和有蔭的長廊

you could find tracts with hills and trees

你得以發現大片的山丘與樹林

you could pretend were mountains and forests.

你可以假裝自己發現了高山和森林

Or you could go out by yourself

你也可以獨自外出

even to a half-block-long empty lot,

甚至到半個街區外的一塊空曠處

into the bushes: like a creature of leaves you'd lurk,

鑽入矮叢裏──像一隻林裏的野獸隱密前進

crouched, crawling, simplified, savage, alone;

蜷伏著、爬行著、原始、野蠻、而形隻影單；

already there was wanting to be simpler,

有一股回歸原始的渴望，

wanting, when they called you,

渴望著，當他們呼喚你，

never to go back.

也永遠不要回去。

(Applause)

(掌聲)

This is another longish one,

接下來也是一首長詩

about the old and the young.

關於年長和還年輕的人

It actually happened right at the time we met.

這實際上發生在我和他相遇的那段時間

Part of the poem takes place in

這首詩的部份發生在

space we shared and time we shared.

我們曾共享的場所與時間裏

It's called "The Neighbor."

詩名是「鄰人」

Her five horrid, deformed little dogs

她那五隻惹人厭，醜陋不堪的狗

who incessantly yap on the roof under my window.

不斷地在我窗戶下方的屋頂狂吠

Her cats, God knows how many,

她的貓 -- 天曉得有多少隻

who must piss on her rugs --

一定都尿在她的地毯上，

her landing's a sickening reek.

她的樓梯平台散發出令人作嘔的晦氣

Her shadow once, fumbling the chain on her door,

笨拙摸索著門鎖的影子

then the door slamming fearfully shut,

因害怕而緊閉著的門

only the barking and the music -- jazz --

只有動物的聲音和爵士的調子

filtering as it does, day and night into the hall.

如以往不停地飄入（我和她的）客廳

The time it was Chris Connor singing "Lush Life" --

那時播的是Chris Connor所演唱的"Lush Life"

how it brought back my college sweetheart,

令我深深思念起我大學時代的戀人

my first real love, who -- till I left her --

我初戀的摯愛，

played the same record.

直到我離開她時 她都放著這首歌

And head on my shoulder, hand on my thigh,

頭枕著我的肩 手搭著我的腿

sang sweetly along, of regrets and depletions

低聲唱和著，悔恨和逝去

she was too young for,

那是她太年輕所無法承擔，

as I was too young, later, to believe in her pain.

而我太年輕所無法相信的，她的痛楚。

It startled, then bored, then repelled me.

痛苦讓我驚愕，讓我煩悶，最後驅逐了我。

My starting to fancy she'd ended up in this fire-trap

我開始幻想 她在這個小村中出現

in the Village, that my neighbor was her.

成為我的鄰居

My thinking we'd meet, recognize one another,

我臆想著我們相遇，認出對方，

become friends, that I'd accomplish a penance.

成為朋友，而我也將完成贖罪。

My seeing her, it wasn't her, at the mailbox.

我看著她，在郵箱旁的，不是她。

Gray-yellow hair, army pants under a nightgown,

灰黃的頭髮，睡衣下穿著軍褲，

her turning away, hiding her ravaged face

她轉過身，以手遮住

in her hands, muttering an inappropriate "Hi."

滿是皺摺的臉，不自然地呢喃著：“ 嗨。“

Sometimes there are frightening goings-on in the stairwell.

偶爾樓梯井裡會發生一些恐怖的事情。

A man shouting, "Shut up!" The dogs frantically snarling,

男人吼道：“閉嘴！“ 狗則開始狂吠，

claws scrabbling, then her -- her voice

爪子瘋狂的撓，然後是她 -- 她的聲音

hoarse, harsh, hollow,

嘶啞的，低沉的，空洞的，

almost only a tone,

僅是一聲

incoherent, a note, a squawk,

不連貫的，音符，怪叫

bone on metal, metal gone molten,

撞在金屬上，金屬也因之熔化了，

calling them back,

叫著他們回來，

"Come back darlings, come back dear ones.

“回來親愛的，回來親愛的。

My sweet angels, come back."

我心愛的天使們，回來。“

Medea she was, next time I saw her.

再次見到她時，她化身爲美狄亞。

Sorceress, tranced, ecstatic,

女巫般，恍惚地，欣喜若狂，

stock-still on the sidewalk

呆立在人行道上

ragged coat hanging agape,

衣衫襤褸披掛，

passersby flowing around her,

行人從她身旁流過，

her mouth torn suddenly open

她的嘴突然張大

as though in a scream,

像要驚聲尖叫，

silently though, as though only in her brain

儘管未曾出聲，彷彿恐怖只在她腦中

or breast had it erupted.

或胸中噴發。

A cry so pure, practiced, detached,

純粹，熟練，而超然的吶喊，

it had no need of a voice,

不需出聲，

or could no longer bear one.

或已無法再出聲。

These invisible links that allure,

不可見的羈絆吸引著

these transfigurations, even of anguish, that hold us.

這些變遷，就算是痛苦也同樣聯繫著我們。

The girl, my old love,

那個我從前深愛的女孩，

the last lost time I saw her

最後一次見面

when she came to find me at a party,

是在一場派對裡，

her drunkenly stumbling, falling,

她過來找我，喝得爛醉如泥，

sprawling, skirt hiked, eyes veined red,

腳步歪倒，衣衫不整，兩眼充血，

swollen with tears, her shame,

紅腫的眼框裡，是淚，是愧，

her dishonor.

是悔。

My ignorant, arrogant coarseness,

出於無知，自大和粗野，

my secret pride, my turning away.

我不爲人知的傲慢，我轉身離去。

Still life on a rooftop,

屋頂上的靜物，

dead trees in barrels, a bench broken,

桶中的枯樹，壞掉的長椅，

dogs, excrement, sky.

狗，排泄物，天空。

What pathways through pain,

什麼能帶領我穿越痛苦，

what junctures of vulnerability,

什麼時刻是穿越脆弱的關頭，

what crossings and counterings?

什麼會交會，什麼又會背道而馳？

Too many lives in our lives already,

我們的生活中已經存在太多的生命，

too many chances for sorrow,

太多讓我們體驗痛苦的機會，

too many unaccounted-for pasts.

太多下落不明的過去。

"Behold me," the god of frenzied,

“看著我，“ 那狂暴的，

inexhaustible love says,

無盡愛意之神，

rising in bloody splendor, "Behold me."

帶著一身鮮血淋漓的輝煌說：“看著我。“

Her making her way

她一路向前

down the littered vestibule stairs,

去到髒亂的門廊階梯

one agonized step at a time.

每一步都痛苦不堪。

My holding the door.

我把著門。

Her crossing the fragmented tiles,

她穿過破散的瓷磚，

faltering at the step to the street,

在走向街頭的方向支吾著，

droning, not looking at me,

低聲的說著，但沒有看著我，

"Can you help me?"

“能幫我一把嗎？“

Taking my arm, leaning lightly against me.

扶著我的手臂，輕輕地靠著我。

Her wavering step into the world.

她搖晃著腳步踏進這個世界。

Her whispering, "Thanks love." Lightly, lightly against me.

她低聲呢喃著：“謝謝你，親愛的。“ 輕輕地，輕輕地，對著我。

(Applause)

（掌聲）

I think I'll lighten up a little.

我想我應該讓氣氛愉悅一點

(Laughter)

（笑）

Another, different kind of poem of youth and age.

另一首 很不同的有關年輕與老的詩

It's called "Gas."

氣體

(Laughter)

笑

Wouldn't it be nice, I think,

這不是很棒嗎？我想，

when the blue-haired lady in the doctor's waiting room

當一位藍髮女郎

bends over the magazine table

正在候診室彎身向雜誌架時

and farts, just a little,

放了屁，就一點點，

and violently blushes.

變得滿臉通紅。

Wouldn't it be nice if intestinal gas

假如這腸道的氣體

came embodied in visible clouds,

在空氣裡變成肉眼可見的話，那不是很棒嗎？

so she could see that her really quite inoffensive pop

如此一來她就會看見她那不甚擾人的爆裂

had only barely grazed my face

只不過是輕輕掠過了我的臉龐

before it drifted away.

就在它飄散開去之前。

(Laughter)

（笑）

Besides, for this to have happened now

此外，現在這個狀況

is a nice coincidence. Because not an hour ago,

正巧是一個美妙的巧合。因為就在不到一個小時之前，

while we were on our walk,

在我們散步途中，

my dog was startled by a backfire

我的狗被一輛車子的逆火聲所驚

and jumped straight up like a horse bucking.

嚇得直跳了起來，活像匹馬拱背似的。

And that brought back to me the stable

這也讓我想起了童年的馬廄

I worked on weekends when I was 12,

我12歲的時候每逢週末就在那裡打工，

and a splendid piebald stallion,

有匹花色種馬，

who whenever he was mounted would buck just like that,

每逢上了鞍就會像那樣拱背蹦起，

though more hugely of course,

當然動作更劇烈，

enormous, gleaming, resplendent.

巨大，閃耀，且輝煌。

And the woman, her face abashedly buried

而那位困窘地把頭埋進《Elle》裡的女郎，

in her "Elle" now, reminded me --

則讓我想起了 --

I'd forgotten that not the least part of my awe

我已然忘記的我最畏懼的事情

consisted of the fact that with every jump he took

就是那花馬每跳一下

the horse would powerfully fart.

都會用力的放屁

Phwap! Phwap! Phwap!

噗！噗！噗！

Something never mentioned

這件事是

in the dozens of books about horses

在任何一本跟馬有關的書裡，

and their riders I devoured in those days.

或那些我熟知騎手們都不曾提到過的。

All that savage grandeur,

所有野蠻雄偉，

the steely glinting hooves,

發光的鐵蹄

the eruptions driven from the creature's mighty innards,

從那生物全能的內臟而來的能量爆發，

breath stopped, heart stopped, nostrils madly flared,

呼吸停止，心跳停止，鼻孔瘋狂噴氣，

I didn't know if I wanted to break him, or be him.

我不知道我是想打斷他，還是成為他。

(Laughter)

(笑聲)

(Applause)

(鼓掌)

This is called "Thirst."

現在這首詩叫作「渴」

Many -- most of my poems actually

我的許多──絕大多數的詩其實是

are urban poems. I happen to be reading a bunch that aren't.

城市詩。我現在要念一首則恰好不是

"Thirst."

「渴」

Here was my relation with the woman who lived all last autumn and winter,

接下來是我與一位去年秋冬不分日夜

day and night, on a bench

都生活在地鐵103 街站

in the 103rd Street subway station,

一張長凳上的女性的關係，

until finally one day she vanished.

直到某天她消失為止。

We regarded each other, scrutinized one another.

我們互相打量，仔細審視對方。

Me shyly, obliquely, trying not to be furtive.

我膽怯而拙劣地，想要顯得不那麼偷偷摸摸。

She boldly, unblinkingly, even pugnaciously,

她則大膽，目不轉睛，甚挑釁好戰地，

wrathfully even, when her bottle was empty.

當她的酒瓶乾涸時，甚至是暴怒的。

I was frightened of her. I felt like a child.

我被她嚇壞了。覺得自己就像個小孩似的。

I was afraid some repressed part of myself

我害怕我那些被壓抑的部份

would go out of control, and I'd be forever entrapped

會不受控制傾巢而出，而我將永遠

in the shocking seethe of her stench.

被禁錮在她那惡臭四溢的驚人水域中。

Not excrement merely, not merely surface

不僅是排泄物，不僅是表皮

and orifice going unwashed,

身上的毛孔也將變得不潔淨，

rediffusion of rum,

蘭姆酒將

there was will in it,

會填滿這些孔穴，

and intention, power and purpose --

還有意圖，力量，目的，

a social, ethical rage and rebellion --

一個社會，倫理的憤怒和反抗，

despair too, though, grief, loss.

還有失望，悲痛，失落。

Sometimes I'd think I should take her home with me,

有時候我覺得應該帶她一起回家，

bathe her, comfort her, dress her.

讓她洗澡，安撫她，梳理打扮她。

She wouldn't have wanted me to, I would think.

我又覺得，她大概不會希望我那樣做。

Instead, I'd step into my train.

於是乎，我會踏進我等待的列車。

How rich I would think, is the lexicon

我心想，我們自我開脫的辭彙表

of our self-absolving.

是多麼的豐富啊！

How enduring, our bland fatal assurance

我們反映正義被確實執行的

that reflection is righteousness being accomplished.

乏味而致命的保證，又是多麼持久。

The dance of our glances,

我們的眼波流轉，

the clash, pulling each other through

交鋒，讓彼此經歷了

our perceptual punctures,

感知的衝撞穿刺，

then holocaust, holocaust,

和隨之而來的大毀滅，巨大毀滅。

host on host of ill, injured presences,

寄居於眾多病源之上，殘破的存在，

squandered, consumed.

浪擲，揮霍。

Her vigil somewhere I know continues.

我知道她仍在某處繼續著她的守夜儀式。

Her occupancy, her absolute, faithful attendance.

她盤據著，她會絕對忠實的出席。

The dance of our glances, challenge, abdication,

我們的眼波流轉，質疑，退卻，

effacement, the perfume of our consternation.

消失，僅留下彼此驚愕的氣息。

(Applause)

(掌聲)

This is a newer poem, a brand new poem.

這是新作的一首詩。

The title is "This Happened."

題目是「有過這樣的事」

A student, a young woman

一位年輕的女學生

in a fourth-floor hallway of her lycee,

在學校的 4 樓的門廳，

perched on the ledge of an open window

棲息於洞開的窗台邊緣

chatting with friends between classes;

在下課時間跟朋友聊著天；

a teacher passes and chides her,

老師路過時告誡她，

"Be careful, you might fall,"

“當心！妳可能會摔下去，“

almost banteringly chides her,

用近乎戲謔的方式勸誡她，

"You might fall,"

“妳可能會摔下去，“

and the young woman, 18, a girl really,

而那名女子，年方十八，還不過是個女孩，

though she wouldn't think that,

一定未曾想過，

as brilliant as she is, first in her class,

如此聰慧，樣樣第一，

and "Beautiful, too," she's often told,

而且常常有人說她“非常漂亮。“

smiles back, and leans into the open window,

笑著回應老師，然後傾身向開著的窗，

which wouldn't even be open if it were winter --

那扇在冬天本不應開啟的窗，

if it were winter someone would have closed it ("Close it!") --

在冬天本應有人關上的窗（“關上它！“）

leans into the window, farther, still smiling,

微笑著，更加傾身向窗外，

farther and farther, though it takes less time

越來越傾斜，電光石火

than this, really an instant, and lets herself fall.

只不過是一瞬間，她跌出了窗外。

Herself fall.

她跌了下去。

A casual impulse, a fancy,

不經意的，一個念頭，

never thought of until now, hardly thought of even now ...

從未被想起，也幾乎不可能被想到...

No, more than impulse or fancy,

不，也不是一時的興起，

the girl knows what she's doing,

那女孩明白她在做什麽，

the girl means something,

那女孩在暗示著些什麽，

the girl means to mean,

那女孩是故意的，

because it occurs to her in that instant,

由於想法在她腦中靈光乍現，

that beautiful or not, bright yes or no,

漂亮與否，聰慧與否，

she's not who she is,

那都不是她，

she's not the person she is,

那都不是她自己，

and the reason, she suddenly knows,

而她突然明白了原因，

is that there's been so much premeditation

就是她的所在之處有太多預設，

where she is, so much plotting and planning,

太多的籌備和規劃，

there's hardly a person where she is,

那裡幾乎沒有所謂的個人可言，

or if there is, it's not her, or not wholly her,

即使有，那也不是她，或者說不是完整的她，

it's a self inhabited, lived in by her,

那個潛藏著，居住在她內心的自我，

and seemingly even as she thinks it

看起來就像她所想的一樣

she knows what's been missing:

她明白究竟遺失了什麼：

grace,

恩寵，

not premeditation but grace,

不是計劃，而是恩寵，

a kind of being in the world spontaneously,

一種自在處身於世界，

with grace.

的優雅特質。

Weightfully upon me was the world.

重壓我肩頭的是這個世界

Weightfully this self which graced the world

這個為世界增添光彩的自我多麼份量十足

yet never wholly itself.

卻不是全然的自我。

Weightfully this self which weighed upon me,

重壓於我的自我世多麼份量十足，

the release from which is what I desire

從中解脫正是我所渴望

and what I achieve.

是我所追求。

And the girl remembers, in this infinite instant

於是女孩記起，在這被記憶一再分割

already now so many times divided,

無限的剎那間，

the sadness she felt once,

記起了曾經的痛

hardly knowing she felt it,

那幾乎難以察覺的

to merely inhabit herself.

埋藏在她心中的痛。

Yes, the girl falls, absurd to fall,

喏！女孩墜落，荒誕地墜落了，

even the earth with its compulsion

儘管是讓她墜落的

to take unto itself all that falls

地球引力

must know that falling is absurd,

也知道這是荒誕的，

yet the girl falling isn't myself,

但那個落下的女孩不是我，

or she is myself,

就算她的確是我，

but a self I took of my own volition unto myself.

也是我的自由意志選擇的自己。

Forever. With grace.

永遠，出於恩寵。

This happened.

這樣的事發生了

(Applause)

(鼓掌)

I'll read just one more. I don't usually say that.

我會再讀一首，我很少這麼說。

I like to just end.

我喜歡直接結束。

But I'm afraid that Ricky will come out here

但我怕Ricky會走上來

and shake his fist at me.

向我揮拳

This is called "Old Man," appropriately enough.

題目是「老人」，再貼切不過了

"Special: big tits,"

特別報導，巨乳。

Says the advertisement for a soft-core magazine

色情雜誌的廣告上這麼寫著

on our neighborhood newsstand.

貼在我們社區的佈告欄上。

But forget her breasts.

但先別提她的雙峰。

A lush, fresh-lipped blond,

一個肉感，雙唇嬌豔欲滴的金髮尤物，

skin glowing gold, sprawls there,

小麥色的肌膚，玉體橫陳，

resplendent.

簡直是光彩奪目。

60 nearly, yet these hardly tangible,

都快60歲了，但這些無法實際碰觸到，

hardly better than harlots, can still stir me.

不比娼婦高明到哪去的娘們，仍然攪得我心癢難耐。

Maybe a coming of age in the

或者一個美國感官黑暗年代

American sensual darkness,

就要來臨，

never seeing an unsmudged nipple,

再也看不到沒打上馬賽克的乳頭，

an uncensored vagina,

或未經分級審查刪除的陰道畫面，

has left me forever infected

讓我的眼睛

with an unquenchable lust of the eye.

染上了不可磨滅的淫欲。

Always that erotic murmur,

情色的低喃總是

I'm hardly myself

讓我幾乎不能自己

if I'm not in a state of incipient desire.

設若我不是沈溺在一個原欲的狀態。

God knows though,

雖然說天曉得，

there are worse twists your obsessions can take.

癡迷會讓人陷得更深。

Last year in Israel, a young ultra-orthodox Rabbi

去年在以色列，一位年輕的超正統拉比

guiding some teenage girls through the Shrine of the Shoah

帶領女學生們參觀大屠殺紀念館時

forbade them to look in one room.

禁止她們參觀一個展廳。

Because there were images in it he said were licentious.

因為他說裡頭的照片太過放蕩。

The display was a photo. Men and women stripped naked,

展出的某張照片。男女都被剝到赤身露體，

some trying to cover their genitals,

有些人想遮蔽他們的生殖器，

others too frightened to bother,

有些人則被嚇到忘了要這麼做，

lined up in snow

在雪地裡站成一排

waiting to be shot and thrown into a ditch.

等著被射殺後再丟進溝渠裡。

The girls, to my horror,

讓我覺得恐怖的是，

averted their gaze.

女孩們紛紛把目光移開。

What carnal mistrust had their teacher taught them.

老師灌輸給她們的不信任肉慾的信念竟是如此深刻。

Even that though. Another confession:

除此之外。還有另一個告解：

Once in a book on pre-war Poland,

在一本戰前波蘭的書中

a studio portrait, an absolute angel,

一座藝術塑像，一個絕美的天使，

an absolute angel with tormented, tormenting eyes.

一個帶著痛苦眼神的絕美天使。

I kept finding myself at her page.

我注視了那圖良久。

That she died in the camps made her --

她死於集中營 --

I didn't dare wonder why --

雖然我不敢懷疑原因 --

more present, more precious.

讓她顯得更具存在感，更珍貴。

Died in the camps, that too people --

許多人 -- 或者說猶太人 --

or Jews anyway --

也是在集中營死去

kept from their children back then.

並與他們的子女隔離。

But it was like sex, you didn't have to be told.

而那就像是性，不消多說。

Sex and death, how close they can seem.

性和死亡，看起來多麼相似。

So constantly conscious now of death moving towards me,

如此不斷蓄意逼近我的死亡，

sometimes I think I confound them.

偶爾我覺得我將這兩者混淆了。

My wife's loveliness almost consumes me.

我妻子的愛幾乎蠶食了我。

My passion for her goes beyond reasonable bounds.

我對她的感情遠遠高過於合理的境界。

When we make love, her holding me

每次做愛時，她抱住我

everywhere all around me,

纏繞著我的全身，

I'm there and not there.

我感覺如夢又如真。

My mind teems, jumbles of faces, voices, impressions,

我的腦中湧現無數的臉孔，聲音和記憶，

I live my life over, as though I were drowning.

我就像溺水的人一般，眼前閃過自己一生的影像。

Then I am drowning, in despair

在不得不抽離她的時刻，

at having to leave her,

我深深陷溺在絕望之中，

this, everything, all,

這，一切，所有的一切，

unbearable, awful.

是如此難耐，讓人驚駭。

Still, to be able to die

但仍能無有悔恨的

with no special contrition,

死去，

not having been slaughtered, or enslaved.

不是被屠殺，不是被奴役。

And not having to know history's next

也不需要知道世上接著會發生

mad rage or regression,

什麼劇烈的風暴或衰退，

it might be a relief.

死亡或者會是種解脫。

No. Again, no.

不是，再次重申，絕不是。

I don't mean that for a moment.

我並沒有那種意思。

What I mean is the world holds me so tightly --

我是說這世界把我包得太緊 --

the good and the bad --

好的，壞的 --

my own follies and weakness

我的愚蠢和軟弱

that even this counterfeit Venus

以致於這贋品的維納斯

with her sham heat, and her bosom probably plumped

與她虛偽的熱情，和她觸動我心弦

with gel, so moves me

那可能裝滿矽膠的雙峰

my breath catches.

也讓我喘不過氣來。

Vamp. Siren. Seductress.

騷貨，妖女，蕩婦。

How much more she reveals

在她如墨的星眸裡

in her glare of ink than she knows.

展露了比她自己所知的還更多。

How she incarnates

她是如何將具體體現了

our desperate human need for regard,

我們極度迫切的人性慾望，

our passion to live in beauty,

渴望過更美好，

to be beauty, to be cherished by glances,

變得更美麗，被注視且珍惜，

if by no more, of something like love,

基於類似愛，

or love.

或愛本身的角度。

Thank you.

謝謝。

(Applause)

(掌聲)