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主题:Andrew Marr:我们英国人——英国诗歌文学简史 -- 万年看客

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家园 不止一次战争的诗人4

笔者以为,对于绝大多数读者来说,以上诗篇的最后几行集中体现了英国战争诗人的根本思想。但是正如笔者一直试图展示的那样,战争诗歌传达的思想远不仅仅局限于此。1985年,威斯敏斯特大教堂的诗人角揭幕了一块纪念石板,上面镌刻的都是1914-1918年之间的战争诗人。一共有十六个名字登上了石板,其中有两个在近年来越发广为人知,但是笔者一直都还没有提到。这两人都像威尔弗雷德.欧文那样是工人阶级出身。艾萨克.罗森伯格没能活到战争结束。他出身于一户拉脱维亚犹太裔移民家庭,从小生活在伦敦东城的犹太社区,十四岁那年成为了一名雕版学徒,后来考入了伦敦大学斯莱德美术学院并且结识了一大批引领业界的现代派画家。他原本可以在美术领域扬名立万,但是在开战前几年他就转而投向了诗歌创作。他的《白教堂歌谣》(A Ballad of Whitechapel)宛如梦魇一般骇人,描述了诗人如何在街头遇到一个小女孩并且与其同行的经历。仅凭这一篇诗文,罗森伯格就已经超越了苍白乏力的晚期浪漫主义风格。犹太教背景赋予了他宛如记者一般的锐利视线,令笔者想起了威廉.布莱克。以下是本诗节选:

The traffic rolled,

A gliding chaos populous of din,

A steaming wail at doom the Lord had scrawled

For perilous loads of sin.

车马粼粼在此经过,

蜿蜒前行的混乱一片喧嚣,

热气腾腾的哭喊,只因上帝将末日随手勾勒,

九死一生的罪孽滔滔。

And my soul thought:

"What fearful land have my steps wandered to?

God's love is everywhere, but here is naught

Save love His anger slew."

于是我自问我的灵魂:

“我踏上了怎样一片恐惧的土地?

上帝之爱无所不在,唯独在此荡然无存,

只有被祂的怒火屠戮的爱意?”

And as I stood

Lost in promiscuous bewilderment,

Which to my mazed soul was wonder-food,

A girl in garments rent

正当我站在当场

思绪万千满心迷茫——

对于我那昏乱灵魂而言正是上好给养——

一个衣衫破烂的小姑娘来到身旁。

Peered 'neath lids shamed

And spoke to me and murmured to my blood.

My soul stopped dead, and all my horror flamed

At her forgot of God.

她满面羞涩,垂着眼看我 ,

对着我的鲜血说话轻声细气。

我的灵魂僵死不动,我的恐惧燃起烈火,

因为她居然忘记了上帝。

Her hungered eyes,

Craving and yet so sadly spiritual,

Shone like the unsmirched corner of a jewel

Where else foul blemish lies.

她那饥渴的双眼

充满渴求,可是又悲哀地灵性充溢,

就像显露一角的宝石那样耀眼,

这一角之外则覆盖着肮脏的东西。

I walked with her

Because my heart thought, "Here the soul is clean,

The fragrance of the frankincense and myrrh

Is lost in odours mean."

我与她同行,心里想道:

“这个灵魂纯洁无垢,

尽管芬芳的乳香与没药

遮掩不住她身上的恶臭。”

She told me how

The shadow of black death had newly come

And touched her father, mother, even now

Grim-hovering in her home,

她对我直言,

黑死病的阴影刚刚降临此地

带走了她的父亲母亲,甚至直到当前,

死神依然在她家盘旋不去。

Where fevered lay

Her wasting brother in a cold, bleak room,

Which theirs would be no longer than a day,

And then—the streets and doom.

她还有个高烧不退的弟弟,

正在冰冷惨淡的家中饱受疫病煎熬,

至多还有一天,房东就要将他们赶出去,

然后流落街头,注定死路一条。

罗森伯格患有肺结核,为了疗养曾经一度移民南非。然后他就听说了开战的消息。在《初次听闻开战消息》(On Receiving the First News of the War)一诗当中没有一丝一毫的爱国主义情怀,只有展望未来之后的满心惶恐。这世界很快就将会坠入地狱:

Snow is a strange white word;

No ice or frost

Has asked of bud or bird

For Winter’s cost.

雪是一个奇怪的白色词汇;

无论寒霜还是坚冰

都不会要求飞鸟或者花蕾

将冬天的代价付清。

Yet ice and frost and snow

From earth to sky

This Summer land doth know;

No man knows why.

然而坚冰、寒霜与雪

却遍布了大地与天空,

这片夏日土地对此十分了解;

但却无人能将这道理想通。

In all men’s hearts it is:

Some spirit old

Hath turned with malign kiss

Our lives to mould.

存在于每一颗心灵

是那古老精神的遗迹,

凭借恶毒之吻强行

将我们的生命塞进模具。

Red fangs have torn His face,

God’s blood is shed:

He mourns from His lone place

His children dead.

赤红毒牙将祂的面容撕裂,

泼洒了上帝的血液,

祂在孤独之地独自悲切,

祂的孩子都已死灭。

O ancient crimson curse!

Corrode, consume;

Give back this universe

Its pristine bloom.

啊,远古的猩红诅咒!

腐蚀吞吃无休无止;

马上还给这个宇宙

盛放鲜花未经染指。

罗森伯格的战争诗歌粗粝嘲讽,很有些局外人的气质,并不像布鲁克或者萨松那样一看就来自公立学校背景。下面这首诗名叫《战壕破晓》(Break of Day in the Trenches):

The darkness crumbles away.

It is the same old druid Time as ever,

Only a live thing leaps my hand,

A queer sardonic rat,

As I pull the parapet’s poppy

To stick behind my ear.

Droll rat, they would shoot you if they knew

Your cosmopolitan sympathies.

Now you have touched this English hand

You will do the same to a German

Soon, no doubt, if it be your pleasure

To cross the sleeping green between.

It seems you inwardly grin as you pass

Strong eyes, fine limbs, haughty athletes,

Less chanced than you for life,

Bonds to the whims of murder,

Sprawled in the bowels of the earth,

The torn fields of France.

What do you see in our eyes

At the shrieking iron and flame

Hurled through still heavens?

What quaver—what heart aghast?

Poppies whose roots are in man’s veins

Drop, and are ever dropping;

But mine in my ear is safe—

Just a little white with the dust.

黑暗崩塌逝去。

自从德鲁伊的古代一成不变,

唯有一样活物跃入我手,

一只奇特而轻慢的老鼠,

我从护墙上摘一朵虞美人

别在我的耳后。

滑稽的老鼠啊,他们准会开枪打你,倘若他们知道

你胸无芥蒂同情所有人。

你触碰了英国人的手掌,

接下来也会同样去抚慰德国人。

无疑,不久后假如你愿意的话

就会穿过双方之间的绿地。

你似乎内心窃笑,当你经过

锐利的眼,灵活的肢体,骄傲的运动员

却不如你更有活路,

受到一时杀心的束缚,

在大地的肠道里穿行,

在惨遭撕裂的法国原野。

你在我们眼中看到了什么,

当尖啸的钢铁与火焰

飞跃过停滞的天穹?

是什么在震颤——谁的心充满惊恐?

扎根在人的血脉里的虞美人

凋落了,并且还将继续凋落。

但是我耳后这一朵花很安全——

仅仅因为蒙尘而略微发白。

这首诗至少能证明弗兰德斯的战场上确实盛开着虞美人,这幅场景并非旨在鼓动捐款的臆造。罗森伯格还有另一首名声较小的诗歌,但是笔者认为其实写的更好。这首诗描写了一个绝大多数其他战争诗人避而不谈的题材——战壕里虱子成灾,以至于不得不经常发起《猎虱》(Louse Hunting):

Nudes—stark and glistening,

Yelling in lurid glee. Grinning faces

And raging limbs

Whirl over the floor one fire.

For a shirt verminously busy

Yon soldier tore from his throat, with oaths

Godhead might shrink at, but not the lice.

And soon the shirt was aflare

Over the candle he’d lit while we lay.

赤身裸体——一丝不挂,遍体汗珠闪亮,

大呼小叫,乐得发狂。满脸坏笑,

手舞足蹈,

围绕着地上的火堆。

衬衫上爬满了忙碌的虫豸。

那个士兵从喉头扯下——口中誓言

令神性退避,但是虱子却不以为然。

很快衬衫就被他点起的

蜡烛照亮,而我们都躺在周围。

Then we all sprang up and stript

To hunt the verminous brood.

Soon like a demons’ pantomime

The place was raging.

See the silhouettes agape,

See the gibbering shadows

Mixed with the battled arms on the wall.

See gargantuan hooked fingers

Pluck in supreme flesh

To smutch supreme littleness.

See the merry limbs in hot Highland fling

Because some wizard vermin

Charmed from the quiet this revel

When our ears were half lulled

By the dark music

Blown from Sleep’s trumpet.

然后我们全都起身脱光,

要猎杀一窝窝害虫。

很快这里就热闹起来,

活像魔鬼的哑剧场。

看剪影目瞪口呆,

看阴影语无伦次,

交战的手臂投射在墙上。

那硕大弯曲的手指

勾住一块好肉

留下点点污渍。

看这欢乐的肢体在火热的高地上挥舞,

因为有些害虫当中的巫师

从寂静当中施法召唤出欢乐。

那时我们的耳朵或多或少遭到安抚,

那是黑暗的音乐

来自睡眠的号角。

早在维多利亚时代晚期,俄国与波兰都发动过针对犹太人的屠杀,于是原本不大的英国犹太人社区——主要集中在伦敦与曼城——迅速膨胀起来。就像在当时的德国一样,当时身在英国的犹太人同样感到必须通过参军入伍来证明自己的爱国心。萨松在呼吁与德国议和时内心饱受折磨,原因之一就在于他很清楚自己的举动必将招致反犹主义者们的攻讦。罗森伯格从小浸淫在伦敦东区的犹太文化当中,因此说起话来比萨松更没顾忌。下面这首短诗《犹太人》(The Jew)创作于法国:

Moses, from whose loins I sprung,

Lit by a lamp in his blood

Ten immutable rules, a moon

For mutable lampless men.

我源自摩西的生育,

由他血中的灯火点亮,

十条万世不易法则,一轮明月,

都为了那变易无常的无明之人。

The blonde, the bronze, the ruddy,

With the same heaving blood,

Keep tide to the moon of Moses.

Then why do they sneer at me?

金色头发,古铜肤色,红润脸庞,

体内充满同样的血液,

随着摩西之月潮涨潮落,

那么你们凭什么嫌弃我?

艾弗.格尼同样也是个局外人,不过他身为局外人的方式却大不相同。就像罗森伯格一样,他也具备文学以外的艺术才华,不过是在音乐而非美术领域。格尼出身于格洛斯特的一户裁缝家庭,早在幼年就展现了音乐才华并且加入了唱诗班,后来拿到了皇家音乐学院的奖学金。他的入学时间与罗森伯格考入斯莱德的时间几乎重合。他在毕生当中都经受着经常发作的情绪起伏与周期性神经崩溃,根源很可能是躁郁症。就像罗森伯格一样他也以士兵而非军官的身份经历过堑壕战——他加入的是格洛斯特郡团——并且在战壕里开始向后方寄送诗作。格尼的诗文音律感十足,有点让笔者回想起了杰拉德.曼利.霍普金斯。请看《索姆河畔》(On Somme):

Suddenly into the still air burst thudding

And thudding, and cold fear possessed me all,

On the gray slopes there, where Winter in sullen brooding

Hung between height and depth of the ugly fall

Of Heaven to earth; and the thudding was illness’ own.

But still a hope I kept that were we there going over,

I, in the line, I should not fail, but take recover

From others’ courage, and not as coward be known.

No flame we saw, the noise and the dread alone

Was battle to us; men were enduring there such

And such things, in wire tangled, to shatters blown.

Courage kept, but ready to vanish at first touch.

Fear, but just held. Poets were luckier once

In the hot fray swallowed and some magnificence.

突然间沉寂的空气爆发出一声闷响

又一声闷响,我全身都屈服于冰冷的恐惧,

对面的灰色山坡上,冬天正在沉闷地滋长,

从天顶垂挂到深渊,纵贯天与地

之间的丑陋距离,闷响本是疾病的同类。

但我依然希望如果我们到了那边去,

我,在队列中,我必不会失败,而是要借助他人勇气

作为掩护,不会被当成窝囊废。

我们看不到火光,只能听见可怖的喧嚣,对我们而言

这就是战斗;那边的人们经受着怎样的生死一线,

例如被铁丝网钩挂,或者被炸得肢体不全,

我们还有勇气,但是一旦接敌肯定消失不见。

恐惧,但是暂且忍耐,诗人将会更幸运,一旦

经受过了刀山火海与恢弘壮阔的考验。

格尼诗作的独特旋律尤其适合描写混乱嘈杂的法国军旅生活。下面这首《受难角》(Crucifix Corner)堪称是用文字描绘了一幅反映战壕生活的素描:

There was a water dump there, and regimental

Carts came every day to line up and fill full

Those rolling tanks with chlorinated clear mixture;

And curse the mud with vain veritable vexture.

Aveluy across the valley, billets, shacks, ruins,

With time and time a crump there to mark doings.

On New Year's Eve the marsh glowed tremulous

With rosy mist still holding late marvellous

Sun-glow, the air smelt home; the time breathed home.

Noel not put away; new term not yet come,

All things said 'Severn', the air was full of those calm meadows;

Transport rattled somewhere in the southern shadows;

Stars that were not strange ruled the most quiet high

Arch of soft sky, starred and most grave to see, most high.

What should break that but gun-noise or last Trump?

But neither came. At sudden, with light jump

Clarinet sang into 'Hundred Pipers and A'',

Aveluy's Scottish answered with pipers true call

'Happy we've been a'together.' When nothing

Stayed of war-weariness or winter's loathing,

Crackers with Christmas stockings hung in the heavens,

Gladness split discipline in sixes and sevens,

Hunger ebb'd magically mixed with strange leavens;

Forgotten, forgotten the hard time's true clothing,

And stars were happy to see Man making Fate plaything.

那边有个水坑,各支部队的马车

每天早上都在这里排队打水喝。

滚动水桶的人们一边添加净水氯剂,

一边抱怨泥水肮脏,满嘴咒天骂地。

阿弗吕伊在山谷对面,那里有兵营,废墟,棚户,

偶尔有一枚炮弹飞过来打声招呼。

新年夜傍晚这片湿地散发辉光,

瑰丽的玫瑰红霞遥遥挂在远方。

时令有家的气息,空气有家的味道,

圣诞尚未远去,新的军令尚未来到。

此情此景好像塞文河畔,沿河芳草一般清新的空气,

南边的阴影里少不了运输车队轰隆来去。

并不怪异的星辰统治着最寂静的至高天,

温柔的天穹星光灿烂,俯瞰遍地坟茔的人间。

一声枪响或者军号就能打破这一切,

但是两者都迟迟不至,却听得轻快一跃,

一支单簧管吹响了“百名风笛手”的旋律,

阿弗吕伊的苏格兰部队随即回应,亮出正牌风笛技艺,

来了一首欢快的“真高兴我们在一起”,

厌战或者厌恶冬天的情绪怎能与之相比。

挂在天堂的圣诞袜子里塞满饼干,

欢乐气氛将死板军纪打碎掀翻,

就连饥饿都退去,神奇的酵母充当了饭餐。

忘记了困苦,忘怀才是抵御艰难时光的可靠衣物,

群星高兴地看到人将命运当成了玩物。

格尼的诗文还有一点特别之处:他一直在坚持设想战争结束后会怎样。他针对英国国内的侵略主义思潮的批判就像欧文与萨松一样毫不留情,但是他的政治立场却比其他人更加鲜明。他为下面这首诗起了一个咄咄逼人的标题:《致英格兰的普鲁士人》(To the Prussians of England):

When I remember plain heroic strength

And shining virtue shown by Ypres pools,

Then read the blither written by knaves for fools

In praise of English soldiers lying at length,

Who purely dream what England shall be made

Gloriously new, free of the old stains

By us, who pay the price that must be paid,

Will freeze all winter over Ypres plains.

Our silly dreams of peace you put aside

And brotherhood of man, for you will see

An armed mistress, braggart of the tide,

Her children slaves, under your mastery.

We'll have a word there too, and forge a knife,

Will cut the cancer threatens England's life.

当我回忆起淳朴的英雄伟力

与美德在伊珀尔的水塘边闪耀,

再去看看奴才写给蠢材的胡说八道,

吹嘘英军士兵如何死战倒地。

战死者的纯洁梦想是让英格兰再度

荣光焕发,与我们的旧日污迹绝缘,

为此他们将无法回避的代价支付,

这代价足以冰封伊珀尔的冬日平原。

你抛开了我们那愚蠢的和平梦想

与天下大同的愿景,因为你将抬眼

观瞧一位武装贱婢,夸口能命令潮落潮涨,

她的子嗣都是奴才,全凭你一人号令驱遣。

我们可也有话说,要锻造一把尖刀锋利,

然后从英格兰身上将这害命的癌瘤剜去。

格尼活到了战争结束并且再度投入了最初热爱的作曲领域,但是一切对于他来说都已经再也不一样了。他远不是一个天生的军人,在战场上被毒气所伤,战后又失恋心碎,以至于再度落入了精神疾病的魔爪,在精神病院受困多年之后于1937年去世。下面这首《巴赫与哨兵》(Bach and the Sentry)是他献给巴赫的诗作,他在诗文当中几乎预感到了自己的最终结局:

Watching the dark my spirit rose in flood

On that most dearest Prelude of my delight.

The low-lying mist lifted its hood,

The October stars showed nobly in clear night.

注视黑暗我的精神自洪水当中升起

盘踞在我的喜悦的最亲切序曲。

贴地的低伏雾气将兜帽掀起,

十月星光壮丽照耀在清朗的夜里。

When I return, and to real music-making,

And play that Prelude, how will it happen then?

Shall I feel as I felt, a sentry hardly waking,

With a dull sense of No Man's Land again?

当我回到家乡,将真正的音乐创作聆听,

并且弹奏这支序曲,届时将会怎样?

我是否还会有曾经的感受——好似困倦的哨兵

模糊感到自己再次来到交火区的土地上?

但是格尼笔下最瘆人的预言诗当属《三鬼魂歌谣》(Ballad of the Three Spectres)。这首诗提醒我们,尽管大多数参战士兵都没有丧命或者折损肢体,但是战争结束之后他们依然必须设法在一个饱受创伤的国家重新开始生活:

As I went up by Ovillers

In mud and water cold to the knee,

There went three jeering, fleering spectres,

That walked abreast and talked of me.

正当我在奥维莱尔跋涉,

冰冷的泥水没过了双膝,

三位讥讽嘲笑的鬼魂

与我交谈,一路并驾齐驱。

The first said, ‘Here’s a right brave soldier

That walks the dark unfearingly;

Soon he’ll come back on a fine stretcher,

And laughing for a nice Blighty.’

第一个说:“这是一位勇敢的战士,

行走在黑暗当中无所畏惧;

很快他就会躺在舒服的担架上

原路返回,大笑着被送回老家去。”

The second, ‘Read his face, old comrade,

No kind of lucky chance I see;

One day he’ll freeze in mud to the marrow,

Then look his last on Picardie.’

第二个说:“看他的面孔,老伙计,

我可没看到这么好的幸运。

迟早他将在泥浆里寒气入骨,

在皮卡迪迎来最终命运。”

Though bitter the word of these first twain

Curses the third spat venomously;

‘He’ll stay untouched till the war’s last dawning

Then live one hour of agony.’

先前二位说完了苦涩的话语,

第三位鬼魂也将我恶毒诅咒:

“他将毫发无损,直到战争的最后一个黎明,

然后将一个钟点的痛苦忍受。”

Liars the first two were. Behold me

At sloping arms by one – two – three;

Waiting the time I shall discover

Whether the third spake verity.

头两位鬼魂都是骗子,

我看他们悄然潜行一,二,三;

从那时起我一直在等待验证

第三位发言是否属实的那天。

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