迟到的诗歌
这些是迟到的诗歌。
当然，大多数的诗歌
都迟了，太迟了，
就像一封水手写的信
在他溺水之后才到达。
这些信太迟了，没有用。
迟到的诗也类似。
它们仿佛从水上漂来。
无论是什么，都已经发生了：
战斗，晴朗天，月光下
渐渐生长的欲望，吻别。诗歌
如冲上岸的废弃物。
或者说，就像迟去的晚餐：
所有的词语都成了残羹冷炙。
无赖，困境，和被征服。
或者是徘徊，逗留，片刻，
摒弃，哭泣，孤苦伶仃。
爱和喜乐，甚至：反复咀嚼过的歌，
生锈的咒语。破损的合唱。
迟了，太迟了。
跳舞太迟了。
尽管如此，能唱就唱吧。
调亮灯光： 唱起来，
歌唱：来吧。
作者：玛格丽特.阿特伍德
译： Phil
LATE POEMS
Margaret Atwood
These are the late poems.
Most poems are late
of course: too late,
like a letter sent by a sailor
that arrives after he’s drowned.
Too late to be of help, such letters,
and late poems are similar.
They arrive as if through water.
Whatever it was has happened:
the battle, the sunny day, the moonlit
slipping into lust, the farewell kiss. The poem
washes ashore like flotsam.
Or late, as in late for supper:
all the words cold or eaten.
Scoundrel, plight, and vanquished,
or linger, bide, awhile,
forsaken, wept, forlorn.
Love and joy, even: thrice-gnawed songs.
Rusted spells. Worn choruses.
It’s late, it’s very late;
too late for dancing.
Still, sing what you can.
Turn up the light: sing on,
sing: On.
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