Knife 刀

Knife                                                                                                                刀
　　
by Mary Oliver                                                                                           玛丽 奥利弗

 

                                                                                                                      飘尘 译
　　
　　Something                                         什么东西
　　just now                                           此刻
　　moved through my heart                               正穿透我的心
　　like the thinnest of blades                              像红尾鸟曾拍击
　　once with its great wings                               巨大的羽翼
　　and flew above the gray, cracked                         飞上这灰色，裂开的
　　rock wall.                                          岩壁。
　　It wasn"t                                            这不是
　　about the bird, it was                                  在说鸟
　　something about the way                                                                    而是在说岩石存在
　　stone stays                                          的模样
　　mute and put, whatever                                无论什么从身旁闪过
　　goes flashing by.                                     它总是无声耸立。
　　Sometimes,                                         有时
　　when I sit like this, quiet,                               我这样静静地坐着，
　　all the dreams of my blood                              融化在血液里的，我所有梦想
　　and all outrageous divisions of time                       还有，时光里，我所有的冲动
　　seem ready to leave,                                   似乎准备要离去
　　to slide out of me.                                    溜过我的身体
　　Then, I imagine, I would never move.                      于是，我想象，我从来不会动。
　　By now                                            此刻
　　the hawk has flown five miles                            鹞鹰至少
　　at least,                                             已飞去了五哩
　　dazzling whoever else has happened                                                    无论是谁，只要向上望去
　　to look up。                                         都会感到眩晕
　　I was dazzled. But that                                  我眩晕，但这与刀
　　wasn"t the knife.                                      没有关系
　　It was the sheer, dense wall                              是陡峭，厚实
　　of blind stone                                        无痕的石壁
　　without a pinch of hope                                 没有丝毫希望
　　or a single unfulfilled desire                              或是未实现的奢望
　　sponging up and reflecting,                              海绵般地吸收，反射
　　so brilliantly,                                         如此辉煌的，
　　as it has for centuries,                                  那太阳的火光
　　the sun"s fire.                                        仿佛过了几个世纪。