她有一些马

微笑按： 早晨又读到了印第安女诗人乔伊·哈尔乔（Joy Harjo）的她有一些马(she had some horses),就像第一次读到它那么新奇。那感受如同我第一次在西部红色荒漠上，聆听一位印第安妇女，在一棵近乎于枯的古树下击鼓吟唱。黄昏把她的声音送得很远，很远。我听不懂，她是在招魂，还是在与天地对话。但令我聚精会神地听。

读过一些原住民的诗，都很喜欢。他们的语言离事物很近，保持了如此多的原初性。这位乔伊·哈尔乔应当是他们中最为杰出者。她出了七本诗集，发行过四种原创音乐与表演CD唱片。她的乐队进行过世界巡回演出，她在乐队里是萨克斯乐手和笛手。自1970年代以来，哈尔乔一直是美国当代富于独创性的重要诗人之一，她的诗既有对印第安传统的吸收，同时又是她自己对整个宇宙的个人理解与创造。哈尔乔的作品来源于她的生命经验，美国印第安神话和仪式，音乐……

《她有一些马》让我居然有了女人般的感同身受。周瓒和徐贞敏的翻译也很到位。




她有一些马
by 乔伊·哈尔乔（Joy Harjo）

I 她有一些马


她有一些马是沙的身体。
她有一些马是血画出的地图。
她有一些马是海水的皮肤。
她有一些马是天空的蓝色空气。
她有一些马是毛和牙齿。
她有一些马是粘土的将会破碎。
她有一些马是碎裂的红色峭壁。

她有一些马。

她有一些马有火车的眼睛。
她有一些马有丰满、褐色的大腿。
她有一些马笑得太多。
她有一些马朝玻璃房子扔石头。
她有一些马舔着刀片。

她有一些马。

她有一些马欢舞在它们母亲的怀中。
她有一些马认为它们是太阳而它们的
身体闪耀燃烧如星星。
她有一些马夜夜在月亮上旋舞。
她有一些马超级害羞，因而在它们自己
制造的马厩里保持安静。

她有一些马。

她有一些马喜欢克里克踩跺舞的歌曲。
她有一些马饮酒垂泪。
她有一些马朝让他们害怕他们自己的
男王后吐口水。
她有一些马说他们不怕。
她有一些马说假话。
她有一些马说了实话，舌头被席卷一空。

她有一些马。

她有一些马叫它们自己，“马。”
她有一些马叫它们自己，“神灵，”并把它们的
声音藏起只留给它们自己。
她有一些马没有名字。
她有一些马有着书一样多的名字。

她有一些马。

她有一些马在黑暗中低声细语，害怕讲话。
她有一些马因害怕沉默而高声尖叫，为防备
鬼魂而带刀。
她有一些马等待着毁灭。
她有一些马等待着复活。

她有一些马。

她有一些马为任何救星而下跪。
她有一些马认为是它们高昂的代价救了它们。
她有一些马前来救她，夜里爬上她的
床祈祷。

她有一些马。

她有一些马是她所爱。
她有一些马是她所恨。

这些是同一些马。


II 两匹马


我本以为太阳从基督之血山脉
破山而出就够了，而
我身体上野性的麝香味
在长夜之梦过后能够朝我绽开自己。
我以为我孤身的舞穿过
没人知道的稀奇古怪的星球的世界
会维持我。毕竟
我学会了移动
的的确确
以及如何认识除了那最熟悉的之外的声音。
可你一定是从
一个千年之梦里长出来的
就像我从来不可能想象你。
你一定
从另一个天空破开
到这里，因为
现在我把你看成我以为这一瞬
从不可能发生的几百万宇宙的
一部分。
我认识你像我自己，游荡。
在你的眼里唯有很多星团
和其他循环的行星的运行。
然后你的手指，头发的
芬芳，以及
你柔软，紧绷的肚皮。

我的心被你
和这些早晨占据因为我是一匹马跑向
一片裂开的天空无数的黎明
同时破现。
地平线上有两个月亮
为了你
我已经挣脱。


III 淹死的马


她说她要杀死
自己。我在千里之外。
倾听着。
她的嗓音在一个
电话声的海洋里。灰色的天空
将近日落；我不问她如何做。
我早已熟悉那些武器：
一家饭馆不会招待她，
浅浅的笑声，下一杯酒。
就算我不更靠近交谈线的
悬崖边缘，我依然会是另一面镜子，
另一匹奔马。

她的逃离就是我自己的。
我告诉她，是的。是的。我们松口气
绝尘远去。
夜气袭近，飞奔的
另一场生命。

无声。
无声。


IV 冰马


这些是在最后的伤害
转向内部之后逃走的；
它们是最危险的。
这些是最烫的，
但又冷得使得你的舌头粘住
它们并被撕裂因为它
冻结在马蹄的移动中。
这些切开你的大腿，
它的血你一定看到过
在大夫的橡皮手的手套上。它们是
像海洋那样呻吟的马，而
其中的一个一个姑娘大声尖叫；
她是唯一的。
这些是已经找到你的。
这些是在你的肚皮上腾跃的。
它们把鹿从你的子宫里赶出来。
这些是冰马，从
你的头部进入的马，
然后你的心，
你被击打的心。

这些是爱过你的。
它们是把你抱得如此
之近的马你变成它们的
一部分，
 一匹冰马
驰入
 火焰。

（周瓒、徐贞敏 译）


She had some horses.

She had horses who were bodies of sand.
She had horses who were maps drawn of blood.
She had horses who were skins of ocean water.
She had horses who were the blue air of the sky.
She had horses who were fur and teeth.
She had horses who were clay and would break.
She had horses who were splintered red cliff.

She had some horses.

She had horses with eyes of trains.
She had horses with full, brown thighs.
She had horses who laughed too much.
She had horses who threw rocks at glass houses.
She had horses who licked razor blades.

She had some horses

She had horses who danced in their mothers’ arms.
She had horses who thought they were the sun and their
bodies shown and burned like stars.
She had horses who waltzed nightly on the moon.
She had horses who were much too shy, and kept quiet
in stalls of their own making.

She had some horses.

She had horses who liked Creek Stomp Dance songs.
She had horses who cried in their beer.
She had horses who spit at male queens who made
them afraid of themselves.
She had horses who said they weren’t afraid.
She had horses who lied.
She had horses who told the truth, who were stripped
bare of their tongues.

She had some horses.

She had horses who called themselves, “horse.”
She had horses who called themselves, “spirit,” and kept
their voices secret and to themselves.
She had horses who had no names.
She had horses who had books of names.

She had some horses.

She had horses who whispered in the dark, who were afraid to speak.
She had horses who screamed out of fear of the silence, who
carried knives to protect themselves from ghosts.
She had horses who waited for destruction.
She had horses who waited for resurrection.

She had some horses.

She had horses who got down on their knees for any saviour.
She had horses who thought their high price had saved them.
She had horses who tried to save her, who climbed in her
bed at night and prayed.

She had some horses

She had some horses she loved.
She had some horses she hated.

These were the same horses.