《榆树》 by 普拉斯

榆树  /普拉斯  林木 译

给露丝·费恩莱特

 

我知道底部，她说。我用巨大的主根探知：

这就是你害怕的。

我不怕它：我去过那里。

 

你在我身上听到的可是海，

它的不满？

还是空无的声音，那是你的疯狂？

 

爱是一抹阴影。

你如此为它躺倒哭泣。

听：这是它的蹄声：它离去了，像一匹马。

 

整夜我将如此奔驰，狂烈地，

直到你的头跑成石，你的枕头变成小草地，

回响，回响。

 

或者我该带给你毒药的响声？

现在下雨了，这沉寂。

而这是它的果实：锡白，如砷。

 

我经受落日的暴行。

灼烧到根部

我红灯丝燃烧并站立，一团铁丝。

 

现在我分解成飞舞的碎片，如棍棒。

如此暴烈的风

不容旁观；我必须尖叫。

 

月亮也无情：她那不孕之身

残忍地拖曳着我。

她的强光灼伤我。或许是我抓住她。

 

我让她走。我让她走。

虚弱且平躺，像经历了大手术。

你的恶梦如何占据并赋予我。

 

一声哭喊栖居于我身上。

每晚它鼓翼而出

用它的钩子寻找爱的归宿。

 

我被这黑暗的东西吓坏了

它在我体内安睡。

整天我感觉到它的轻柔，如羽翻动，它的恶意。

 

云朵掠过并消散。

那些是爱的面庞吗，苍白无法挽回？

为了这些我就乱了心绪吗？

 

我无法知晓更多。

这是什么，这张脸

在树枝的扼杀中如此凶狠？--

 

它如蛇的酸液嘶嘶作响。

它石化了意志。这些孤立的，缓慢的裂痕

会杀人，会杀人，会杀人。

 

Elm

By Sylvia Plath

For Ruth Fainlight

 

I know the bottom, she says. I know it with my great tap root:   

It is what you fear.

I do not fear it: I have been there.

 

Is it the sea you hear in me,   

Its dissatisfactions?

Or the voice of nothing, that was your madness?

 

Love is a shadow.

How you lie and cry after it

Listen: these are its hooves: it has gone off, like a horse.

 

All night I shall gallop thus, impetuously,

Till your head is a stone, your pillow a little turf,   

Echoing, echoing.

 

Or shall I bring you the sound of poisons?   

This is rain now, this big hush.

And this is the fruit of it: tin-white, like arsenic.

 

I have suffered the atrocity of sunsets.   

Scorched to the root

My red filaments burn and stand, a hand of wires.

 

Now I break up in pieces that fly about like clubs.   

A wind of such violence

Will tolerate no bystanding: I must shriek.

 

The moon, also, is merciless: she would drag me   

Cruelly, being barren.

Her radiance scathes me. Or perhaps I have caught her.

 

I let her go. I let her go

Diminished and flat, as after radical surgery.   

How your bad dreams possess and endow me.

 

I am inhabited by a cry.   

Nightly it flaps out

Looking, with its hooks, for something to love.

 

I am terrified by this dark thing   

That sleeps in me;

All day I feel its soft, feathery turnings, its malignity.

 

Clouds pass and disperse.

Are those the faces of love, those pale irretrievables?   

Is it for such I agitate my heart?

 

I am incapable of more knowledge.   

What is this, this face

So murderous in its strangle of branches?——

 

Its snaky acids hiss.

It petrifies the will. These are the isolate, slow faults   

That kill, that kill, that kill.

 

[LinMu]

回复 '海边红树' 的评论 : 谢谢，问好

[海边红树]

平安是福。