死亡竟然可以这样写——译迈基马德的诗《那一头熊》

（又一次体会到，诗的语言真是强大，诗能够传达的感觉真是不可思议。请看迈基马德描写他爷爷的去世。——译者，2017/04）

那一头熊

艾米特·迈基马德（黄未原译）

 

不愿见光的语言

从洞口偶然冒出

又吞回

消失在记忆的莫高窟里

 

膝上的曾孙女儿

在91年漫长的隧道尽头玩耍

阳光照亮那里的开阔地

 

助听器也不能打破的寂静

就像一枚硬币

掉落井底

 

他的眼光和我们相遇

像一只昏昏欲睡的熊

正把又一块石头放好

堵住通向自己的进口

掩上不能自动关闭的感觉之门

 

当我说我爷爷去年离世了

我是说他隐退了

退回到洞穴里黑郁的斜坡之下

隐没在孕育地河的深潭之中

 

The bear

Amit Majmudar

 

A word peeked sometimes from the cave mouth

only to shuffle back, swallowed, sky-shy,

lost in his memory's russet Lascaux?.

The great-granddaughter we set on his lap

 

played in the far-off, sunlit opening

of a tunnel ninety-one years long,

as noiseless, in spite of the hearing aid,

as a penny striking the floor of a well.

 

His eyes met ours like a groggy bear's

as he pulled another stone into place

to seal the entrance to himself, 

to close the senses that would not close themselves.

 

When I say my grandfather passed on

last year, what I mean is, he passed inward,

down the dark slope of a cave, drawn

by the womb rush of a river underground.

 

(Poetry Daily, 2017-03-30)