笔尖：Hunt 22B
墨水：Walnut
信笔涂鸦，还请多多指教
摘自《What can I hold you with?》
What can I hold you with?
我要用什么来留住你？
—— Jorge Luis Borges (1934)
—— 博尔赫斯
I offer you lean streets, desperate sunsets, the moon of the jagged suburbs.
我给你瘦狭的街道，孤绝的落日，荒郊的冷月。
I offer you the bitterness of a man who has looked long and long at the lonely moon.
我给你整个人的悲苦，那个人曾久久凝望寂寞的月亮。
I offer you my ancestors, my dead men, the ghosts that living men have honoured in marble:
my father's father killed in the frontier of Buenos Aires, two bullets through his lungs, bearded and dead, wrapped by his soldiers in the hide of a cow;
my mother's grandfather -just twentyfour- heading a charge of three hundred men in Perú, now ghosts on vanished horses.
我给你我的祖先，死者的灵魂被生者铭刻在大理石上：
我父亲的父亲死于布宜诺斯艾利斯的前线，两颗子弹穿过他的胸口，他死时蓄着胡子，被同袍裹于兽皮之内；
我母亲的祖父——才二十四岁——曾在秘鲁率领三百军士，如今已成死马上的幽魂。
（未完待续）
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