[译]西蒙·阿米蒂奇诗二首

作者: 陈子弘 | 来源:发表于2024-08-23 22:18 被阅读0次

    西蒙·阿米蒂奇诗二首   

    【英】西蒙·阿米蒂奇         陈子弘  译

    纸飞机

    飞机上坐在我边上的男人
    正细读一个空白书,锐目
    从左至右扫过空页,指尖
    从一处空白转向下一处。

    有时他会意地点头抑或摇头,
    费心用红色笔在隐身文本
    下面一一勾画,或在页边
    标注上感叹号抑或是星号。

    这本书看起很厚重,手工缝线
    但封面、封底和书脊全部没字。
    着陆前,他把銀色丝带书签
    夹在两白页之间,记下位置。

    那时候我正戴着降噪耳机,
    听着歌曲《细雾》,他倾身过来
    喊道:“对不起,打扰了!
    我想这是你的佳作,请签个名。”

    Paper Aeroplane

    The man sitting next to me on the flight
    was reading a blank book, keen eyes
    panning left to right across empty leaves, fingers
    turning from one white space to the next.

    Sometimes he'd nod agreeably or shake his head,
    or painstakingly underline some invisible text
    with red ink, or decorate the margin
    with an exclamation mark or asterisk.

    It was a hefty-looking tome, hand-stitched
    but wordless front and back and down the spine.
    Coming in to land he laid the silver ribbon-marker
    between two bare pages to save his place.

    I was wearing noise-cancelling headphones,
    listening to fine mist, when he leaned across
    and shouted, 'Forgive the intrusion, but
    would you sign this for me? I think it's your best.'
                                                Simon Armitage

    现象学

    哈罗德·加芬克尔可以爬开了。
    这张是十磅钞票。这些是你老妈的
    车钥匙,还有我老爹的西服套装
    但对我来说恰恰大了半个码。

    轮胎压过,水洼迸溅,灯光
    洒出来如过往的一瞬,结果却
    是折回、沉落,变得遥远
    在漫长黑夜深处远而又再

    远。而我们总是在驶离。
    隧道里,我们测试引擎
    回声并在雨水溅湿的车窗上
    检查发式乱了没有。有朝

    一日,事情会放下。明天太阳升起
    它会给我们启示。但现在我们像
    我们理解的星辰般闪耀:我觉得自己
    是汤姆·康特奈;你觉得我是骗子比利。

    译注:
    1. 哈罗德·加芬克尔(Harold Garfinkel,1917年--2011)美国学者,是常人方法学的主要代表人物,特别在社会交际领域和人类社交工程学方面有很大贡献。阿米蒂奇通过诗的第一行表达了对这些思想或理论的不屑和反感。
    2. 汤姆·康特奈(Tom Courtenay,1937-  ) 是指英国著名演员,骗子比利是电影《骗子比利》中一个角色,这部电影是根据小说改编的电影,讲述一个年轻人虚构了一个不真实的身份和生活。

    Phenomenology

    Harold Garfinkel can go fuck himself.
    This is a ten pound note. These are the keys
    to your mother's car, and my father's suit
    is nicely one half-size too big for me.

    The tyres burst the puddles and the lamplight
    spills like a moment from the past, only
    to settle backwards, become distant and
    still further distant in the long darkness

    behind. Always we are moving away.
    In the tunnel we test the echo of
    the engine and check our haircuts in the
    rain-spattered quarter-light. Someday, something

    will give. When the sun comes up tomorrow
    it will dawn on us. But for now we shine
    like the stars we understand: I think I'm
    Tom Courtenay; you think I'm Billy Liar.
                                           Simon Armitage


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