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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O 靡靡之音与少数巨人3-1 1 万年看客 字18675 2020-07-13 06:11:20
O 靡靡之音与少数巨人4 1 万年看客 字16548 2020-07-13 06:12:26
O 十三,不止一次战争的诗人1 1 万年看客 字18026 2020-07-15 05:22:49
O 不止一次战争的诗人2 1 万年看客 字13057 2020-07-15 05:23:54
O 设使锥处囊中 桥上 字0 2020-07-16 01:13:39
O 是哪一首诗引发了这句感慨? 1 万年看客 字0 2020-07-16 01:46:46
O 可不是牢骚, 1 桥上 字105 2020-07-16 02:25:05
O 不止一次战争的诗人3 1 万年看客 字18802 2020-07-17 06:02:57
O 不止一次战争的诗人4 1 万年看客 字20128 2020-07-24 06:55:34
O 不止一次战争的诗人5 1 万年看客 字17913 2020-07-29 02:18:25
O 不止一次战争的诗人6 1 万年看客 字13802 2020-07-29 02:20:27
O 一种可怕的美已经诞生 1 桥上 字30 2020-07-30 00:21:24
O 十四,现代主义者们有多么现代?1 1 万年看客 字18064 2020-07-31 05:35:19
O 现代主义者们有多么现代?2 1 万年看客 字14027 2020-08-04 04:19:20
O 现代主义者们有多么现代?3 1 万年看客 字10007 2020-08-04 05:08:17
2020-07-13 06:11:20
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靡靡之音与少数巨人3-1 1

托马斯.哈代不仅比起戴维森年长十七岁——他于1840年生在多赛特——而且还比他活得更长。此外哈代的诗才也更胜于戴维森,实际上哈代竟可算是第一流的英国诗人。但是这两人具有许多共同的有趣特质。比方说哈代也是一个极其悲观的人,同样对于科学理念与现代思想抱有浓厚的兴趣。尽管他对圣公会感情很深,却不愿接受传统的宗教世界观,还曾经劝诫某位教士去研读达尔文以及以赫伯特.斯宾塞为代表的达尔文追随者们的作品。哈代与戴维森都生活在一个上帝缺位的世界,两人也都在竭力理解这个世界的意义,因此他们都成为了千百万才识逊色的普通英国人的代言人。下面这首《合二为一》(The Convergence of the Twain)为的是纪念1912年泰坦尼克号沉没事故,但是诗人也借此抒发了自己对于命运无常的黑暗观点,还趁机批判了坚信人力胜于自然的英国文化弊病。今天的读者要是担心高速增长且视贪婪为美德的现代资本主义文明早晚要遭报应,那么可千万不能错过这首诗:

I

In a solitude of the sea

Deep from human vanity,

And the Pride of Life that planned her, stilly couches she.

一:

在大海的寂寥中

深离人类的虚荣

和规划她的鲜活骄傲,她躺卧不动。

II

Steel chambers, late the pyres

Of her salamandrine fires,

Cold currents thrid, and turn to rhythmic tidal lyres.

二:

钢铁的炉腔,曾经是熊熊燃烧之地,

栖息着她那赤红的烈火蜥蜴,

如今冰冷水流,演奏着海潮的旋律。

III

Over the mirrors meant

To glass the opulent

The sea-worm crawls — grotesque, slimed, dumb, indifferent.

三:

一面面明镜

原要将豪华景象照映,

如今海蛆在上面爬——粘湿丑陋,不闻不问。

IV

Jewels in joy designed

To ravish the sensuous mind

Lie lightless, all their sparkles bleared and black and blind.

四:

玲珑剔透的珠宝

原是为供人夸耀

如今黯然失色,归于黑暗,在那里睡觉

V

Dim moon-eyed fishes near

Gaze at the gilded gear

And query: “What does this vaingloriousness down here?” …

五:

张着满月大眼的怪鱼

对着这些表面浮华的东西

问道:“这狂妄之物因何沉到此地?”

VI

Well: while was fashioning

This creature of cleaving wing,

The Immanent Will that stirs and urges everything

六:

却原来在当初

当人们建造这破浪的巨物

那无所不在的意志,搅动宇宙万物

VII

Prepared a sinister mate

For her — so gaily great —

A Shape of Ice, for the time far and dissociate.

七:

就为她——花团锦簇的新娘

准备了阴险的新郎——

一座冰山,佳期尚遥,且天各一方。

VIII

And as the smart ship grew

In stature, grace, and hue,

In shadowy silent distance grew the Iceberg too.

八:

漂亮的巨轮出落得

挺拔、优雅、满面光泽,

冰山在幽暗寂静的远方也日渐巍峨。

IX

Alien they seemed to be;

No mortal eye could see

The intimate welding of their later history,

九:

他们彼此不相干;

凡人谁也不能看穿

他们以后会融合成为一团,

X

Or sign that they were bent

By paths coincident

On being anon twin halves of one august event,

十:

或是有任何迹象

他们会走到行将交会的路上,

不久成为一桩大喜事的双方,

XI

Till the Spinner of the Years

Said “Now!” And each one hears,

And consummation comes, and jars two hemispheres.

十一:

直到纺织光阴的主宰

对着两者说一声“现在!”

于是终成好事,让两个半球万分惊骇。【参考了梁实秋与刘新民的译文。感谢atr网友的指正。】

哈代与其他爱德华时代英国作家笔下的悲观情绪如此鲜明,以至于今天的读者实在无法不觉得这帮人诡异地预感到了即将到来的一战惨剧。当初哈代的诗歌创作处于高峰期时,来自美国的埃兹拉.庞德正在伦敦客居。庞德很有名地说过,诗人是“一个民族的触角”。哈代的《海峡炮声》(Channel Firing)非常到位地诠释了这句话。在这首诗歌当中,英国海军在英吉利海峡进行炮击演习,惊扰了埋骨在多塞特某教堂周边的死者。最瘆人的地方在于,这首诗的完成与发表时间是1914年,恰好正在一战爆发前夕:

That night your great guns, unawares,

Shook all our coffins as we lay,

And broke the chancel window-squares,

We thought it was the Judgement-day

那夜你们的炮声突然轰响,

撼动了我们安卧的所有灵柩,

也震破了圣坛的玻璃窗,

我们以为最后审判已经临头

And sat upright. While drearisome

Arose the howl of wakened hounds:

The mouse let fall the altar-crumb,

The worm drew back into the mounds,

而直挺挺坐起。狗被惊醒,

声声吠叫凄凉而阴沉:

耗子扔下祭坛上的碎饼,

蚯蚓急忙缩进土墩,

The glebe cow drooled. Till God cried, "No;

It's gunnery practice out at sea

Just as before you went below;

The world is as it used to be:

牛也张着口。直到上帝讲:

“没什么,这只是海上演习炮战,

和你们入土前一个样,

这世界丝毫没有改变:

"All nations striving strong to make

Red war yet redder. Mad as hatters

They do no more for Christés sake

Than you who are helpless in such matters.

“各国都在竭力称霸逞强,

把战火燃得更红。这些疯子

要说为基督服务,不比你们强,

而这事你们已无能为力。

"That this is not the judgment-hour

For some of them's a blessed thing,

For if it were they'd have to scour

Hell's floor for so much threatening. . . .

“亏这还不是最后审判,

也算是他们的造化大,

否则该罚去地狱擦地板,

因他们这般凶神恶煞……

"Ha, ha. It will be warmer when

I blow the trumpet (if indeed

I ever do; for you are men,

And rest eternal sorely need)."

“哈,哈,如果我吹响号角,

那才更热闹(我若真的吹起,

肯定会这样;可你们要睡觉,

迫切需要永恒的安息)。”

So down we lay again. "I wonder,

Will the world ever saner be,"

Said one, "than when He sent us under

In our indifferent century!"

我们重又躺下。有人说:“我真不知,

这世界会不会更理智一点,

比起上帝送我们入地之时——

比起我们那冷漠的百年!”

And many a skeleton shook his head.

"Instead of preaching forty year,"

My neighbour Parson Thirdly said,

"I wish I had stuck to pipes and beer."

骷髅们闻此言纷纷摇头,

我的邻居瑟德利牧师发了言:

“我早当嗜好烟斗啤酒,

悔不该传教传了四十年。”

Again the guns disturbed the hour,

Roaring their readiness to avenge,

As far inland as Stourton Tower,

And Camelot, and starlit Stonehenge.

炮声再一次轰破夜空,

喧嚣着随时报复之心,

这声音远传到亚瑟王宫

斯图尔顿塔和星光下的巨石阵。 【刘新民译】

不过笔者绝不想让读者们误以为哈代是一位政治诗人。哈代的确描写过他所属的时代与当时的思想,但是他的最杰出诗作写得都是个人情感,尤其是《1912-13诗集》当中的作品。在这部诗集当中,他满怀愧疚地回顾了自己与第一任妻子艾玛的失败婚姻。那一次他没能忠于妻子,他的反宗教世界观也让不堪受辱的妻子背弃了他。哈代试图在两人最熟悉的地方再现他们最初恋爱时的感受,并且对于人类爱情的失败采取了令人难以忍受的坦诚态度。下面两首诗是笔者的最爱,第一首名叫《呼唤》(The Voice)

Woman much missed, how you call to me, call to me,

Saying that now you are not as you were

When you had changed from the one who was all to me,

But as at first, when our day was fair.

我深深怀恋的女人,你一声声朝我呼唤不歇,

说你不再像先前,变得对我疏远,

而是一如当初,那时你是我的一切,

那时我们曾多么恩爱美满。

Can it be you that I hear? Let me view you, then,

Standing as when I drew near to the town

Where you would wait for me: yes, as I knew you then,

Even to the original air-blue gown!

真是你的声音吗?那就让我看看你,

像当年我走近市镇,见你站在那里

等着我,啊,你还是当年那样子,

甚至连那身别致的天蓝裙衣!

Or is it only the breeze, in its listlessness

Travelling across the wet mead to me here,

You being ever dissolved to wan wistlessness,

Heard no more again far or near?

或许这只是一阵微风徐徐而来,

吹过湿润的草地,来到我这里,

而你已变得毫无知觉,脸色苍白,

无论远近,我再也听不到你?

Thus I; faltering forward,

Leaves around me falling,

Wind oozing thin through the thorn from norward,

And the woman calling.

于是,我步履踉跄往前赶,

这时四周正落叶缤纷,

北来的寒风穿行在棘丛间,

传来她不停的呼唤声。【刘新民译】

第二首诗的题材是夫妻二人曾经最爱的一段散步路径,题目是《在勃特雷尔城堡》(At Castle Boterel)。善良的读者们,假如你们读罢此诗之后眼眶并未湿润,那你这人大概有毛病:

As I drive to the junction of lane and highway,

And the drizzle bedrenches the waggonette,

I look behind at the fading byway,

And see on its slope, now glistening wet,

Distinctly yet

当我驶近小路与大道的交接处,

当蒙蒙细雨湿透了马车车厢,

我回头看那渐渐隐去的小路,

这会儿已湿得闪闪发亮,

清清楚楚见那路上,

Myself and a girlish form benighted

In dry March weather. We climb the road

Beside a chaise. We had just alighted

To ease the sturdy pony's load

When he sighed and slowed.

有我自己和一个少女的身影,

在干燥的三月的夜色中隐现。

我们跟着马车在山道上攀行。

因小马气喘吁吁迈步艰难,

我们下车以减轻负担。

What we did as we climbed, and what we talked of

Matters not much, nor to what it led, -

Something that life will not be balked of

Without rude reason till hope is dead,

And feeling fled.

我们一路说过的话,做过的事

已无关紧要,连同随后的一切,——

没有重大缘故,人生不会将它错失,

除非希望之火已灰飞烟灭,

感情之泉也枯竭。

It filled but a minute. But was there ever

A time of such quality, since or before,

In that hill's story? To one mind never,

Though it has been climbed, foot-swift, foot-sore,

By thousands more.

那只延续了一刻。但在该山的历史上,

此前此后,如此纯真的时刻

可曾有过?而就个人来讲,

纵然千万双捷足登过这山坡,

如此纯真谁体验过?

Primaeval rocks form the road's steep border,

And much have they faced there, first and last,

Of the transitory in Earth's long order;

But what they record in colour and cast

Is - that we two passed.

亘古的巉岩耸立在山路边,

它们在此面对人世的长河,

目睹了古往今来无数的瞬间,

但以色彩和形象记录下的过客

却只有你和我。

And to me, though Time's unflinching rigour,

In mindless rote, has ruled from sight

The substance now, one phantom figure

Remains on the slope, as when that night

Saw us alight.

在我的心目中,严峻无情的时光,

虽然冷漠地挟裹去那个形体,

她的幻影却依然留在这坡上,

恰似那个夜晚看见我俩在一起

依然激情洋溢。

I look and see it there, shrinking, shrinking,

I look back at it amid the rain

For the very last time; for my sand is sinking,

And I shall traverse old love's domain

Never again.

我凝眸见它在那里渐渐模糊,

我又回过头透过蒙蒙细雨

望她最后一眼;因为我已半截入土,

我再也不可能重新光顾

昔日动情之域。【刘新民译】

说到英国风光以及对于即将到来的一战的悲观情绪,还有一位重要诗人不能不提,也就是A.E.豪斯曼。他被时人誉为最杰出的古典学者——而且他所处的时代可是充满了各路古典学者。身为男同的他不巧生在了一个同性恋依然入刑并且能让当事人身败名裂的时代。他笔下最出名的诗文名叫《希洛普郡少年》(A Shropshire Lad)——一首献给注定不幸的青春的长篇颂歌,也是一曲哀悼英国乡间伊甸园即将随着新世纪的降临而消逝的挽歌。例如其中第四十首:

Into my heart an air that kills

From yon far country blows:

What are those blue remembered hills,

What spires, what farms are those?

从远方冲来一股爽煞人的空气

从异乡吹入我的心田:

哪些蓝色的丘陵存身于记忆,

哪些尖塔、哪些农场田园?

That is the land of lost content,

I see it shining plain,

The happy highways where I went

And cannot come again.

那是失去的美满国度,

我清楚看到它多么敞亮,

我曾经走过的幸福之路

返程时却再也无法踏上。【参考了黄灿然的译文】

还有下面这篇第五十二首:

Far in a western brookland

That bred me long ago

The poplars stand and tremble

By pools I used to know.

远在那西方的水域,

多年前我生长之乡,

白杨树萧萧地摇曳

傍着我熟悉的池塘。

There, in the windless night-time,

The wanderer, marvelling why,

Halts on the bridge to hearken

How soft the poplars sigh.

那里在风定的夜间

有行人驻足桥头,

在惊疑不定倾听着

白杨的叹息多轻柔。

He hears: long since forgotten

In fields where I was known,

Here I lie down in London

And turn to rest alone.

他听着:在我混熟的田野里

再也无人忆及。

我这里在伦敦

独自躺下来安息。

There, by the starlit fences,

The wanderer halts and hears

My soul that lingers sighing

About the glimmering weirs.

那里在星映的篱边

行人驻足而倾听

我梦魂的叹息萦绕着

夜色微茫的堰景。【译者不详】

豪斯曼眼中的英格兰乡村景象就像哈代的一样充满了历史感——两人的叙事都颇有古今一体的意味。但是在豪斯曼的希洛普郡,实际的农民形象看上去有点模糊,倒像是些素描形象。相比起来,哈代笔下的多塞特农民则都是操着一口方言的三维立体角色。这一区别或许意味着豪斯曼的明面文字之下还潜藏着另一个故事:勇敢的年轻人们纷纷离开了英格兰前往异国他乡,为了捍卫大英帝国而纷纷战死。由此还能进一步得出一项事实:豪斯曼笔下最生动的角色往往是鬼而不是人。请看第四十首:

On Wenlock Edge the wood's in trouble;

His forest fleece the Wrekin heaves;

The gale, it plies the saplings double,

And thick on Severn snow the leaves.

温洛岭上的树林陷入了凶险;

森林覆满了里金的山峦起伏;

狂风,它将树苗拦腰折断,

树叶纷落,厚厚地堆积在塞汶山谷。

'Twould blow like this through holt and hanger

When Uricon the city stood:

'Tis the old wind in the old anger,

But then it threshed another wood.

狂风就这样刮过林丘和林地

在尤利考恩这座城市尚且伫立之时:

刮过的是旧时狂风,带着旧时怒气,

但那时它曾将另一片树林鞭笞。

Then, 'twas before my time, the Roman

At yonder heaving hill would stare:

The blood that warms an English yeoman,

The thoughts that hurt him, they were there.

那时,在我的时代之前,是罗马人的世界,

他也曾凝视着远处动荡的山峦:

如今温暖了一位英国农民的热血,

以及令他伤神的思绪,也曾在罗马人体内循环。

There, like the wind through woods in riot,

Through him the gale of life blew high;

The tree of man was never quiet:

Then 'twas the Roman, now 'tis I.

那里,仿佛暴戾狂风从树林席卷而过,

生活的狂风也曾迅猛穿透他的身躯;

树木一般的人从不会静默:

那时是罗马人,现在轮到我领教高低。

The gale, it plies the saplings double,

It blows so hard, 'twill soon be gone:

To-day the Roman and his trouble

Are ashes under Uricon.

狂风,它将树苗折成了两截,

风吹得如此强劲,很快就会消失不见:

今日,罗马人和他的纠结

已经化为灰烬,掩埋在尤利考恩下面。【参考了小唐|卷不进网友的译文】

豪斯曼似乎是一个极其孤独压抑的人。他对于才华不如自己的学者一贯态度极为恶劣,这一点或许也折射了他的心境。但是在王尔德受审之后,他也创作过强有力的诗歌来描写当时的反同性恋战争。笔者认为下面这首《哦那个年轻的罪人是谁?》(Oh Who Is That Young Sinner)堪称是英语文学当中第一篇同性恋抗议作品:

Oh who is that young sinner with the handcuffs on his wrists?

And what has he been after that they groan and shake their fists?

And wherefore is he wearing such a conscience-stricken air?

Oh they're taking him to prison for the colour of his hair.

啊,戴著手铐的那个年轻的罪人究竟是谁?

大家都叹息着摇晃拳头,他犯了什么罪?

他为什么流露出一副如此良心不安的神色?

啊,他们把他扔进牢里为得是他头发的颜色。

'Tis a shame to human nature, such a head of hair as his;

In the good old time 'twas hanging for the colour that it is;

Though hanging isn't bad enough and flaying would be fair

For the nameless and abominable colour of his hair.

他竟会长一头这样的头发,真是人类之耻;

在过去,长这种颜色的头发的人会被绞死;

绞死还嫌太便宜他了,剥皮才算合理公平,

谁让他的头发颜色如此古怪可恶叫不出名。

Oh a deal of pains he's taken and a pretty price he's paid

To hide his poll or dye it of a mentionable shade;

But they've pulled the beggar's hat off for the world to see and stare,

And they're haling him to justice for the colour of his hair.

啊,他也曾煞费苦心,付出了代价高昂,

为了藏匿满头杂毛,或者染出一点名堂;

但是他们扯掉了倒霉蛋的帽子让世人观瞧,

然后又理直气壮地将他扭送进了监牢。

Now 'tis oakum for his fingers and the treadmill for his feet

And the quarry-gang on Portland in the cold and in the heat,

And between his spells of labour in the time he has to spare

He can curse the God that made him for the colour of his hair.

现在他的手得去补船舶裂缝,他的脚将水车踩踏,

他得在波特兰的采石场度过寒冬与盛夏,

在苦役之余他他要是还能享受片刻休息,

大可以为了自己头发的颜色去诅咒上帝。【参考了朱乃长的译文】


2020-07-13 06:11:20
2020-07-13 06:12:26
4536490 复 4344063
万年看客万年看客`28000`/bbsIMG/face/0000.gif`70`7`25632`186765`从五品上:朝请大夫|游骑将军`2008-09-25 10:28:43`
靡靡之音与少数巨人4 1

我们现在已经抵近了第一次世界大战的前夕。这场战争首次震撼了当代英国人继承而来的对于英国国民性的认知。但是要想理解一战如何撼动了英国人关于爱国主义以及英国的世界地位的既有理念,我们首先要看看亨利.纽波特爵士的作品。吉卜林的诗文是由赞美诗、流行歌曲以及演艺厅的节律与用语塑造而成的,同理,纽波特的诗文则受到了克里夫顿学院的影响。为了给大英帝国提供坚忍可靠的公务员,英国政府新建了一批公立学校,克里夫顿学院就是其中之一。纽波特是一位待遇优渥的律师,也是一位成功的作家,因此人们难免将他视为自得自满、古板守旧且笃信帝国主义的爱德华时代英国中产阶级男性的典范,就好像克里夫顿学院会被视作专门培养这种人的机构一样。但是现实生活往往不会如此干脆利索地一刀切,因此要比假想有趣得多。亨利爵士本人在大半辈子时间里都维持着一段婚外三角恋,恋情的另外两角分别是他的双性恋情人与他的妻子。克里夫顿学院的校风也远比外人设想得更加开放,不仅录取了许多贫困子弟,甚至还为犹太裔学生专门开设了一所分院。尽管如此,纽波特的最著名诗作《Vitai Lampada》(生命灯火)并没有多少替代性诠释的空间。这首诗创作于1892年,刚刚问世时大受欢迎。战争开始之后,亨利爵士自愿加入了政府的宣传局。而在战壕里瑟瑟发抖等待死亡的新一代英国年轻人们日后将会把这首诗歌黑得体无完肤:

There's a breathless hush in the Close to-night --

Ten to make and the match to win --

A bumping pitch and a blinding light,

An hour to play and the last man in.

And it's not for the sake of a ribboned coat,

Or the selfish hope of a season's fame,

But his Captain's hand on his shoulder smote --

'Play up! play up! and play the game!'

今夜运动场,屏息又住声,

有十分要拿,有比赛要争;

蓄势的球场,眩目的灯光,

一小时争斗,运动员上场。

并非为一件有绶带的外衣,

或为一时荣名的自私希冀;

为的是队长在肩头的一击:

“加油,加油,玩好游戏!”

The sand of the desert is sodden red, --

Red with the wreck of a square that broke; --

The Gatling's jammed and the Colonel dead,

And the regiment blind with dust and smoke.

The river of death has brimmed his banks,

And England's far, and Honour a name,

But the voice of a schoolboy rallies the ranks:

'Play up! play up! and play the game!'

大漠之沙粒,浸透一片红,

方阵在破碎,鲜血染荒冢;

机枪已哑火,团长已阵亡,

尘埃狼烟中,将士眼如盲。

冥河之水已漫过右岸左堤,

英格兰太远,荣誉徒虚名。

是学童的声音把队伍召集:

“加油,加油,玩好游戏!”

This is the word that year by year,

While in her place the School is set,

Every one of her sons must hear,

And none that hears it dare forget.

This they all with a joyful mind

Bear through life like a torch in flame,

And falling fling to the host behind --

'Play up! play up! and play the game!'

一年复一年,受神圣谕令,

看妙音起处,乃母校清影;

母校之子啊,人人须聆听,

片刻未敢忘,殷殷之叮咛。

男儿们张开了欢愉的胸臆,

终生铭记有如不变的火炬;

再向身后的队伍依次传递:

“加油,加油,玩好游戏!”

恐怕没有任何人会在一开始就存心成为一名战争诗人。有些倒霉的诗人在倒霉的时刻遭受了这样的命运,于是才有了战争诗人。在后世的记忆里,于1915年在希腊受到蚊虫叮咬并且死于传染病的罗伯特.布鲁克是最明明白白的一战爱国主义诗人。如果说今天英国读者的集体意识会隐隐约约地认为诗人就“理应”相貌英俊一表人才,那么布鲁克怕是难辞其咎。叶芝称赞他是“英格兰最英俊的青年”,照片上的他秀发浓密,下颌硬朗,眼神专注。今天的学生们在课堂上接触到的战争诗人大多出自战争后期与末期,一个个心灰意冷或者满腔怒火。他们的反战立场之坚定在英国文学史上无出其右。可是布鲁克的思路却更像纽波特,他激烈地偏爱英格兰与英国人。他的成名作品《牧师古宅,格兰切斯特》(The Old Vicarage,Grantchester)是一首献给剑桥郊外某小镇的浪漫赞美诗。今天我们最熟悉这首诗的最后两句:“教堂大钟是否还停在三点差十分?是否还有蜂蜜调和茶水香馨?”但是在诗歌开头,诗人却身在柏林情伤未愈,还被思乡之心折磨得愈发痛苦:

Just now the lilac is in bloom,

All before my little room;

And in my flower-beds, I think,

Smile the carnation and the pink;

And down the borders, well I know,

The poppy and the pansy blow . . .

Oh! there the chestnuts, summer through,

Beside the river make for you

A tunnel of green gloom, and sleep

Deeply above; and green and deep

The stream mysterious glides beneath,

Green as a dream and deep as death.

— Oh, damn! I know it! and I know

How the May fields all golden show,

And when the day is young and sweet,

Gild gloriously the bare feet

That run to bathe——‘Du lieber Gott!’

Here am I, sweating, sick, and hot,

And there the shadowed waters fresh

Lean up to embrace the naked flesh.

Temperamentvoll German Jews

Drink beer around; — and THERE the dews

Are soft beneath a morn of gold.

Here tulips bloom as they are told;

Unkempt about those hedges blows

An English unofficial rose;

And there the unregulated sun

Slopes down to rest when day is done,

And wakes a vague unpunctual star,

A slippered Hesper; and there are

Meads towards Haslingfield and Coton

Where das Betreten’s not verboten.

盛放的丁香花气味香甜,

生长在我的小屋门前;

在这片花圃里,笑容可亲

是一丛丛石竹与康乃馨;

我很清楚,在篱笆的远处

开放着三色堇与罂粟……

啊!还有成排的栗子树,

在盛夏时分沿着河岸分布,

为你打通一条绿荫的通道,

树冠在高处摇曳深沉睡觉,

碧绿深河在树下神秘地滑过,

碧绿如梦境,死亡一般深不可测。

——哦该死!我就知道!我真的知道

五月的原野怎样一片金光闪耀,

青春甜蜜的岁月多么美好,

阳光灿烂映照着一对赤脚

奔向河流想要洗浴……“谢天谢地!”

而我却在这里,汗流浃背,热得快要断气。

在那里,树荫下的水流清爽,

俯身让赤裸皮肉享受滋养。

在这里,高声谈笑的德裔犹太酒客

正在畅饮啤酒——那里的露珠颗颗柔弱

在金色晨曦映照下多么优美,

更不用说无数郁金香的娇嫩花蕾

争先恐后钻出树篱不顾拥挤,

在英格兰的地位能与玫瑰相比。

待到那热情奔放的太阳

在一日终了之际滑下山岗,

一颗模糊且不守时的星辰随即醒来,

那正是金星,脚上还套着拖鞋。

从哈灵斯菲尔德到科顿都有蜜酒甜蜜,

而且不会有人禁止你横穿草地。

有趣的是,对于一名1912年的轻度反犹英国人来说,德国犹太人就像德国家具一样无非是背景的一部分。布鲁克代表了自由派英格兰田园牧歌的理念,他理想当中的英格兰是一片不受规制的土地,政府还没有强大到管辖一切的地步。但是他的诗文同样也散发着排外的臭气。他先是尽情赞美了一通英格兰乡村的历史荣光,然后笔锋突然一转,针对本国同胞发动了一阵令人忍俊不禁的地图炮:

God! I will pack, and take a train,

And get me to England once again!

For England’s the one land, I know,

Where men with Splendid Hearts may go;

And Cambridgeshire, of all England,

The shire for Men who Understand;

And of THAT district I prefer

The lovely hamlet Grantchester.

For Cambridge people rarely smile,

Being urban, squat, and packed with guile;

And Royston men in the far South

Are black and fierce and strange of mouth;

At Over they fling oaths at one,

And worse than oaths at Trumpington,

And Ditton girls are mean and dirty,

And there’s none in Harston under thirty,

And folks in Shelford and those parts

Have twisted lips and twisted hearts,

And Barton men make Cockney rhymes,

And Coton’s full of nameless crimes,

And things are done you’d not believe

At Madingley on Christmas Eve.

Strong men have run for miles and miles,

When one from Cherry Hinton smiles;

Strong men have blanched, and shot their wives,

Rather than send them to St. Ives;

Strong men have cried like babes, bydam,

To hear what happened at Babraham.

上帝啊!我将要登上火车背负行囊,

再一次回到英格兰的身旁!

据我所知,唯有英格兰这块土地

能让胸怀锦绣之人满心惦记。

在英格兰又属剑桥郡地位最高,

那里的人们无不智识高超。

还有一片地区最让我满心欢乐,

那可爱的小村格兰切斯特。

剑桥的居民很少面露微笑,

端着城里人的架子,满腹鬼门道;

还有最南端的罗伊斯顿,

当地人脸黑脾气爆,说话遭人恨。

在欧汶人们习惯了发誓赌咒,

唐平顿居民的言谈更让人皱眉头;

迪顿的姑娘们既刻薄又放荡,

哈斯顿的住户全都三十岁往上;

在谢尔福德以及周边地区,

当地人嘴唇歪斜内心扭曲;

巴顿人开口说话土里土气,

科顿人精通坑蒙拐骗的手艺;

马丁利的圣诞节夜晚尤其带劲,

当地人干的好事说出去都没人信。

我们能从如此明目张胆的地域黑当中学到什么呢?笔者认为有两点需要注意。首先,在诗人所处的时代,爱国主义颂歌与针对本国生活的讽刺——尤其是当你蔑视这些生活现实的情况下——已经可以并行不悖了。爱德华时代的文化要比维多利亚时代更加放松——在知识分子当中尤其如此——而布鲁克又是布鲁姆斯伯里团体的一员。当他声称英格兰是世间唯一宜居之地时确实发自真心,但是当他讥讽英格兰乡间住满了胡作非为的土老包子时同样也发自真心。此时的英格兰依然是一个等级鲜明阶级意识明确的社会,比起苏格兰与威尔士更有过之。布鲁克正是上层社会势利眼的代表人物。

其二,这段诗文提醒我们,当时的英国依然是一个区域竞争激烈的国家,各个小城小镇的居民相互抹黑乃是生活常态,绝大多数人都将身份认同与家乡而非国家绑定在一起。家乡可以是一个小村,也可以是城市里的几条街道,总之就是某人碰巧降生并且度过一生的地方。爱德华时代的英国人——尤其是穷人——很少出远门,除非参军入伍或者参与其他帝国建设活动。如此强烈的家乡认同几乎可以视为某种朴素的爱国主义。正因为如此,日后基钦纳征兵时才会想到要组织所谓的“同乡军团”,将来自某一小片区域的青年人安排在一起同生共死。直到全诗结尾,布鲁克才再次变调,抒发了他那著名的颂词:

But Grantchester! ah, Grantchester!

There’s peace and holy quiet there,

Great clouds along pacific skies,

And men and women with straight eyes,

Lithe children lovelier than a dream,

A bosky wood, a slumbrous stream,

And little kindly winds that creep

Round twilight corners, half asleep.

In Grantchester their skins are white;

They bathe by day, they bathe by night;

The women there do all they ought;

The men observe the Rules of Thought.

They love the Good; they worship Truth;

They laugh uproariously in youth;

(And when they get to feeling old,

They up and shoot themselves, I’m told) . . .

但是格兰切斯特啊!格兰切斯特!

那里充满了神圣和平的静默。

平和的天空中云层堆积成大块,

男男女女的眼神全都无比直率。

活泼的儿童比美梦更令人沉醉,

郁郁葱葱的树林,溪流昏昏欲睡,

轻柔的微风悄悄地吹来,

半睡半醒在朦胧角落徘徊。

格兰切斯特人的皮肤白皙美好,

因为他们早晚各洗一次澡;

那里的女人做工不惜气力,

男人全都遵守思考定律。

他们热爱善良,他们崇拜真相,

他们的青春欢笑多么嘹亮;

(我还听说一旦他们感到衰老,

就会饮弹自尽以免将别人打扰……)

Ah God! to see the branches stir

Across the moon at Grantchester!

To smell the thrilling-sweet and rotten

Unforgettable, unforgotten

River-smell, and hear the breeze

Sobbing in the little trees.

Say, do the elm-clumps greatly stand

Still guardians of that holy land?

The chestnuts shade, in reverend dream,

The yet unacademic stream?

Is dawn a secret shy and cold

Anadyomene, silver-gold?

And sunset still a golden sea

From Haslingfield to Madingley?

And after, ere the night is born,

Do hares come out about the corn?

Oh, is the water sweet and cool,

Gentle and brown, above the pool?

And laughs the immortal river still

Under the mill, under the mill?

Say, is there Beauty yet to find?

And Certainty? and Quiet kind?

Deep meadows yet, for to forget

The lies, and truths, and pain? . . . oh! yet

Stands the Church clock at ten to three?

And is there honey still for tea?

上帝啊!多想再看看那树枝摇曳

在格兰切斯特的明朗月夜!

再次闻到河水的气息,腐烂的甜蜜

无法忘怀,也从未被忘记,

多么激动人心,还有徐徐清风

在小树林里面啜泣连声。

所以连片榆树是否依旧傲然挺立,

仍然还在捍卫这片神圣土地?

栗子树荫是否还将崇敬之梦遮蔽,

潺潺溪流是否依然充满野趣?

清晨是否依然像秘密那样冰冷羞涩,

浮织藻的叶片是否依然银亮闪烁?

日落时分是否依然金海漫地,

从哈斯灵菲尔德直到马丁利?

再然后,等到黑夜降生,

野兔是否还在玉米地里踢蹬?

哦,那里的水是否依然甘甜清凉,

温和的棕色树枝是否依然俯瞰池塘?

永生的河流是否还在笑呵呵

推动着水车,推动着水车?

我说,在那里是否还能找寻到美丽?

还能感到安心?还能品味静谧?

幽深的草甸,是否还能让人遗忘

谎言、真理与痛苦——哦!还有一样!

教堂大钟是否还停在三点差十分?

是否还有蜂蜜调和茶水香馨?

布鲁克的爱国主义情怀很能解释为什么会有这么多英国青年人心甘情愿地跑到法国送死。如今的英国人已经远远不像当时这样爱国了,一部分原因在于二十世纪的战争经历让英国人吃尽了苦头,另一部分原因在于我们对于世界其他国家地区的了解比那时深入多了。不过为了这一变化而感到遗憾倒也无可厚非,因为爱国主义确实曾经为英国人提供了自信与温暖的归属感,尽管这种感受很快就会被弗兰德斯混杂着鲜血的雨水冲刷殆尽。最后请看布鲁克的《士兵》(The Soldier):

If I should die, think only this of me:

That there's some corner of a foreign field

That is for ever England. There shall be

In that rich earth a richer dust concealed;

如果我命定要死,只要这样将我想起:

那儿,异国战场的一个角落

将永远属于英格兰。就在那里

丰饶的土地将更丰饶的尘土隐没;

A dust whom England bore, shaped, made aware,

Gave, once, her flowers to love, her ways to roam,

A body of England's, breathing English air,

Washed by the rivers, blest by suns of home.

这团尘土源自英格兰,在那里化作人形开启灵智,

曾经有幸热爱她的鲜花,在她的道路上漫步,

属于英格兰的躯体,呼吸着英伦的空气,

在家乡的河流中洗濯,得到家乡阳光的眷顾。

And think, this heart, all evil shed away,

A pulse in the eternal mind, no less

Gives somewhere back the thoughts by England given;

Her sights and sounds; dreams happy as her day;

And laughter, learnt of friends; and gentleness,

In hearts at peace, under an English heaven.

想想吧,这颗心,已经远离一切奸邪憎恶,

永恒心灵中的一次搏动,并无欠缺不足,

英格兰赐予的精神已经回归了来处;

她的风景与声响;她的梦境像她的白昼一样幸福;

还有笑声,从友人那里习得;以及温柔和善,

在宁静的心中,在英格兰的无边苍穹下面。【参考译者不详】


2020-07-13 06:12:26
2020-07-15 05:22:49
4537019 复 4344063
万年看客万年看客`28000`/bbsIMG/face/0000.gif`70`7`25632`186765`从五品上:朝请大夫|游骑将军`2008-09-25 10:28:43`
十三,不止一次战争的诗人1 1

二十一世纪的最初二十五年是一个充满了肃穆纪念日的时期。最后一批参与过一战的英国老兵已经全都去世了。我们当中的许多人也开始重新审视二十世纪六十年代以来主流史学界对于一战的严苛评价。这并不是一场毫无意义的战争。德皇治下的德国虽然与希特勒治下的纳粹德国不可同日而语,但却依然侵略性极强,奉行军国主义并且高度反犹。这个国家相信,唯有法国与俄国的战败才能确保德国的国家安全。倘若同盟国取得胜利,欧洲大陆必然会建立起全新的政治秩序,英国的力量将会遭受毁灭性打击。此外这场战争也并非完全由愚蠢的将军们领导,这些将军们并非只会打发千百万人毫无意义地前去送死。这些将军们与其说是愚蠢,倒不如说是未能与时俱进。他们从未领教过机枪阵地、铁丝网、毒气与高爆炮弹等等新技术共同形成的全新军事效应,因此缺乏必要的经验与信息。例如黑格勋爵这样的英国领导人的确后知后觉并且自满得令人窝火,但是当时参战各国的高层领袖大都是这副德性,法国、德国与俄国的领导层也好不到哪里去。最后,无论在1915年到1917年之间英军为了争夺几百码鲜血浸透的泥地而填进去多少人命,但是在战争的最后一年英军确实打了几场意义重大的漂亮仗,足以与当年马尔伯勒公爵以及惠灵顿公爵立下的战功相提并论。杰出的领导层与协调工作对此功不可没。今天我们惯于强调一战对于英国社会组织方式造成的史无前例的影响。战争促使政府权力得到了极大的——也是必需的——加强,这一点将会改变二十世纪千百万英国人的生活方式。

有鉴于此,战争诗人还能教给我们哪些并非老生常谈的信息呢?战壕里的可怖生活已经成为了英国文化的惯常套路之一。战争诗人的作品并不能在任何方面抵消确实发生过的一切——但是这一点我们也早就知道了。西格里夫.萨松与威尔弗雷德.欧文的作品被强行塞进了一代代英国学童的脑袋瓜里面,以至于完全败坏了这些孩子们继续欣赏诗歌的胃口。但是这种强行灌输本身就是维护和平主义的强大武器——如果说和平主义不介意依靠武器来维护自己的话。有些意外的是,总体而言这些诗歌的怒火并非指向德军官兵。不过另一方面,他们传达的信息也极少主张战争完全徒劳无功;就算一度接近这一观点的诗人也大致都会或早或晚地主动返回前线。倒不如说,与罗伯特.布鲁克的“英国好德国坏”式诗歌相比,这些人的作品表达了某种更加细腻的新型爱国主义。英国的山川风景依然是一切美好的象征,但是那些远离前线的英国同胞们——无论是整天端着架子的中层军官还是张口闭口喊口号的爱国群众——在诗人笔下大都软弱无力、不可理喻、令人作呕。纽波特与布鲁克这一路的诗人并未深入描写弗兰德斯的惨状。不过说句公道话,他们并不比其他人更清楚前线发生了什么,而且布鲁克去世太早,还没来得及意识到战争的本质。

战争诗人的确切定义时至今日依然难以确定。当然,他们其中的绝大部分都是有心在诗坛扬名立万的男青年,并非自愿地穿上卡其布军装来到了法国。但是也有例外,例如吉卜林的存在就表明,一位出色的战争诗人——笔者所谓的“出色”指得是文辞准确犀利——完全有可能从未上过战场。此外战争诗人也未必非得经历过索姆河与帕斯尚尔的杀戮场不可。苏格兰裔诗人查尔斯.汉密尔顿.索利于1915年参加卢斯战役时被狙击手射杀。此人的作品很值得研究,因为这些诗歌反映了作者看待战争的态度转变得多么快。索利是新教出身,接受得是公立学校教育,信奉爱国主义。他的早期军旅诗歌很有点布鲁克式的爱国主义狂热。他相信这是一场正义的战争,他是在为了上帝与国王而战。请看《在群山与山谷当中》(All the Hills and Vales Along):

All the hills and vales along

Earth is bursting into song,

And the singers are the chaps

Who are going to die perhaps.

O sing, marching men,

Till the valleys ring again.

Give your gladness to earth's keeping,

So be glad, when you are sleeping.

在群山与山谷当中

大地爆发出一阵歌声,

唱歌的是一群青年,

死亡大概近在眼前。

唱吧,行军队列,尽情歌唱,

让歌声在山谷里尽情回荡,

将你们的欢乐交给大地珍藏,

所以欢乐吧,当你们倒卧眠床。

Cast away regret and rue,

Think what you are marching to.

Little live, great pass.

Jesus Christ and Barabbas

Were found the same day.

This died, that went his way.

So sing with joyful breath,

For why, you are going to death.

Teeming earth will surely store

All the gladness that you pour.

抛弃遗憾,抛弃悲伤,

要晓得你们正走向何方。

小人物得活命,大人物却被杀,

好比基督耶稣与巴拉巴,

前者遇害,后者安然逃生,

所以快唱起欢乐的歌声。

生机勃勃的大地定会珍藏

所有的欢乐源自你们心房。

Earth that never doubts nor fears,

Earth that knows of death, not tears,

Earth that bore with joyful ease

Hemlock for Socrates,

Earth that blossomed and was glad

‘Neath the cross that Christ had,

Shall rejoice and blossom too

When the bullet reaches you.

Wherefore, men marching

On the road to death, sing!

Pour your gladness on earth's head,

So be merry, so be dead.

大地不会恐惧也不会迷茫,

大地不认识泪水,只认识死亡。

大地孕育了致命的毒芹,

为苏格拉底打开了避世便门。

大地催生了百花齐放,

哪怕耶稣还钉在十字架上,

鲜花依然盛开在他的脚下,

因此就算子弹逼近也别害怕。

行军队伍,无论前进方向,

在赴死之路上定要歌声嘹亮!

将你们的欢乐向大地头上倾倒,

得到的是死亡,留下的是欢笑。

From the hills and valleys earth

Shouts back the sound of mirth,

Tramp of feet and lilt of song

Ringing all the road along.

All the music of their going,

Ringing swinging glad song-throwing,

Earth will echo still, when foot

Lies numb and voice mute.

On, marching men, on

To the gates of death with song.

Sow your gladness for earth's reaping,

So you may be glad, though sleeping.

Strew your gladness on earth's bed,

So be merry, so be dead.

在山丘与峡谷当中

回荡着一阵阵欢乐的呼声。

脚步腾腾,军歌嘹亮,

沿途回响在前进路上。

他们的音乐奏响了一路,

将欢乐的歌声抛掷到各处。

大地都会一直应和,直到

双足僵硬,歌声再也听不到。

啊,行军之人,继续向前,

唱着歌一路走到死亡门前,

播种你们的喜悦,留待大地收获,

这样你们困倦时也仍能欢乐。

将你们的欢乐铺满大地的床榻,

今天欢声笑语,明天长眠地下。

这段诗文描写的战争正是那场留下了众多纪念雕塑的战争——根据这一类叙事,战争的参与者们全都满怀自信,甘愿为了信仰慨然赴死。但是索利的思考远比这种程度更加深刻。很快他就又创作了一首以和解的可能性为题的诗歌,题目就叫《致德国》(To Germany):

You are blind like us. Your hurt no man designed,

And no man claimed the conquest of your land.

But gropers both through fields of thought confined

We stumble and we do not understand.

You only saw your future bigly planned,

And we, the tapering paths of our own mind,

And in each other's dearest ways we stand,

And hiss and hate. And the blind fight the blind.

你与我们一样盲目,你受伤并非出于故意,

而且并没有人主张要征服你的土地。

你与我们都只能摸索着穿过受限的思绪,

跌跌撞撞,想要理解却无能为力。

你只能粗略看到你的未来大计,

我们的心智也只能朝着窄路上走去,

于是我们在互不相让的狭路上相遇,

相互嘶吼仇恨,瞎子之间的拼命角力。

When it is peace, then we may view again

With new-won eyes each other's truer form

And wonder. Grown more loving-kind and warm

We'll grasp firm hands and laugh at the old pain,

When it is peace. But until peace, the storm

The darkness and the thunder and the rain.

待到和平之际,我们兴许能再长出双目,

借此再次彼此的真实面貌观看,

届时我们将会成长得更加温暖和善,

紧紧握手,一起嘲笑旧日的创痛残酷。

但是直到和平降临之前,只有黑暗,

狂风呼啸,雷霆大作,暴雨如注。

在他平生最后一首诗作当中——这首诗的原稿是家人在整理他的遗物时发现的——索利展现了大不相同于先前作品的基调。这首诗的题材是死亡,但同时又接受了天堂、地狱乃至神意干预或许并不存在的严苛猜想。同样的理念也曾深切纠缠过维多利亚时代晚期与战前爱德华时代的诗人们。请看《当你看到千百万没有嘴的死人》(When You See Millions of the Mouthless Dead):

When you see millions of the mouthless dead

Across your dreams in pale battalions go,

Say not soft things as other men have said,

That you'll remember. For you need not so.

Give them not praise. For, deaf, how should they know

It is not curses heaped on each gashed head?

Nor tears. Their blind eyes see not your tears flow.

Nor honour. It is easy to be dead.

Say only this, “They are dead.” Then add thereto,

“Yet many a better one has died before.”

Then, scanning all the o'ercrowded mass, should you

Perceive one face that you loved heretofore,

It is a spook. None wears the face you knew.

Great death has made all his for evermore.

当你看到千百万没有嘴的死人

组成惨白的方阵,从你的梦中穿过,

不要像其他人那样声称你会铭记他们,

这话太没意思。你也不必这么做。

不要赞颂他们,因为死人耳聋,他们怎么知道

你不是在将每一颗血淋淋的头颅咒骂?

也不要流泪,因为死人眼瞎看不见泪水往下掉,

更不必堆砌荣誉。当死人难度其实并不大。

只说一句即可:“他们已死。”然后再补充一句,

“许多更优秀的人们还死在他们之前。”

然后向这片拥挤的人群仔细看去,

假如你曾爱过的面孔蓦然映入眼帘,

那只是鬼魂,只不过佩戴的假面来自你的回忆,

死神已经霸占了他们,永远再也不会归还。

爱德华.托马斯是一位盎格鲁-威尔士血统的诗人,他的参军时间大约在索利牺牲前后,他本人则死于1917年的第三次阿拉斯战役。参军之前的托马斯是一名记者兼文艺批评家,并且受到了著名美国诗人罗伯特.弗罗斯特的深切影响。他的诗文让笔者想到了约翰.克莱尔。这些诗文能让人感受到人气兴旺的乡村,并不是风景一般的乡村,而是住满了性格古怪的居民们的乡村。就像索利一样,托马斯也花费了很大气力来寻找一种全新型的爱国主义,一方面充分表达他对英国山川的热爱,同时又不至于一根筋地落入侵略主义的窠臼。他笔下最受喜爱的诗作《艾德尔斯特洛普》(Adlestrop)充满了怀旧气息,写得是一座偏远的小火车站:

Yes. I remember Adlestrop—

The name, because one afternoon

Of heat the express-train drew up there

Unwontedly. It was late June.

是的,我记得艾德尔斯特洛普——

那个下午让我记住了这个地名,

那一天很热,特快列车不寻常地

停在那里,时间是六月下旬。

The steam hissed. Someone cleared his throat.

No one left and no one came

On the bare platform. What I saw

Was Adlestrop—only the name

蒸汽嘶嘶响。有人清着喉咙。

没有人上车,也没有人离去。

月台空空如也。我看到的

就是艾德尔斯特洛普——只有名字

And willows, willow-herb, and grass,

And meadowsweet, and haycocks dry,

No whit less still and lonely fair

Than the high cloudlets in the sky.

还有柳树、柳叶菜,以及草地

与绣线菊,还有一垛垛干草,

比起天空中悠远的碎片云

静谧和孤寂一点也不少。

And for that minute a blackbird sang

Close by, and round him, mistier,

Farther and farther, all the birds

Of Oxfordshire and Gloucestershire.

在那刻一只乌鸫唱了起来,

就在近旁,围绕着它,雾气般朦胧,

在更远处的牛津郡和格洛斯特郡

所有飞鸟全都放开了喉咙。【参考了周伟驰的译文】

结交了弗罗斯特之后,托马斯一度曾经想过要搬到美国生活——当时距离美国参加一战还早得很。但他最终还是选择了参军入伍,尽管他在如何看待战争的问题上与家里人产生了严重分歧。除了他以外的所有家庭成员全都激烈地痛恨美国人,他却很不以为然。下面这首《这可不是什么不值一提的小对小错》(This is No Case of Petty Right or Wrong)创作于1915年节礼日,当时他正在伦敦的家中休假:

This is no case of petty right or wrong

That politicians or philosophers

Can judge. I hate not Germans, nor grow hot

With love of Englishmen, to please newspapers.

Beside my hate for one fat patriot

My hatred of the Kaiser is love true:—

A kind of god he is, banging a gong.

But I have not to choose between the two,

Or between justice and injustice. Dinned

With war and argument I read no more

Than in the storm smoking along the wind

Athwart the wood. Two witches' cauldrons roar.

From one the weather shall rise clear and gay;

Out of the other an England beautiful

And like her mother that died yesterday.

Little I know or care if, being dull,

I shall miss something that historians

Can rake out of the ashes when perchance

The phoenix broods serene above their ken.

But with the best and meanest Englishmen

I am one in crying, God save England, lest

We lose what never slaves and cattle blessed.

The ages made her that made us from dust:

She is all we know and live by, and we trust

She is good and must endure, loving her so:

And as we love ourselves we hate our foe.

这可不是什么不值一提的小对小错,

能让哲学家与政治家轻易评判。

我并不恨德国人,我的内心也并未火热

爱着我的英国同胞,只为让报纸文章好看。

我不仅痛恨有人大腹便便地爱国,

我对德皇的憎恨同样堪比真爱——

自诩神灵下界,终日敲打战锣。

但我不必二选一,倘若两边同样败坏,

恰似不能在正义与不义之间持中。

关于战争的争论吵得我脑仁生疼,

我无心辨读横穿森林的邪风

卷起的烟尘。两位女巫的大釜沸腾。

一口大釜映照出晴朗明媚的天气,

另一口映照出英格兰多么美好,

就像她的母亲刚刚死于昨日。

我不知道也不关心,我这愚笨的头脑

会不会错失历史学家的发现,

他们在灰烬当中反复扒翻,

偶尔也会刨出一只凤凰仙姿飘飘。

但是说到最优秀也最贫困的英国同胞,

我与他们一同哭泣,为了英格兰而恳求上帝,

莫让我们失去这片从不护佑奴仆牛马的土地。

塑造了她的光阴也用尘土将我们造就,

我们只知道她,只依赖她,与她感情深厚;

她即为善,爱她就要受苦,我们对此毫不怀疑:

因此我们不仅爱自己,还痛恨我们的仇敌。

托马斯在很多方面提到了战争,但是极少直接描写肮脏可怕的战壕生活。他很清楚战壕里的情况,但是他的创作兴趣更倾向于在脑海中保留住植根于乡村现实的对于国家的爱。他的《自由》(Liberty)一诗同样创作于1915年,开篇头三句就高明地将上述两种真相砸在了一起:

The last light has gone out of the world, except

This moonlight lying on the grass like frost

Beyond the brink of the tall elm’s shadow.

最后的光明已经离开这个世界,唯独

月光还像寒霜一般在草叶上匍匐

在挺拔榆树的树荫边缘之外。

至于他笔下最优秀的战争诗歌《雨》(Rain)乍一看去简直与战争八竿子打不着,倒更像是一名真诚的英国爱国者面对死亡的反思:

Rain, midnight rain, nothing but the wild rain

On this bleak hut, and solitude, and me

Remembering again that I shall die

And neither hear the rain nor give it thanks

For washing me cleaner than I have been

Since I was born into this solitude.

Blessed are the dead that the rain rains upon:

But here I pray that none whom once I loved

Is dying to-night or lying still awake

Solitary, listening to the rain,

Either in pain or thus in sympathy

Helpless among the living and the dead,

Like a cold water among broken reeds,

Myriads of broken reeds all still and stiff,

Like me who have no love which this wild rain

Has not dissolved except the love of death,

If love it be towards what is perfect and

Cannot, the tempest tells me, disappoint.

雨,深夜的雨,不是别的而只是暴雨

打着这凄凉的茅棚、孤独,和我

再次想起来我终会死去

既不能听见这雨也不能向它致谢

为了它将我清洗得比我

降生在这孤独之中以来的样子干净得多。

雨水落在其上的死者有福了:

但此时我只祈求我曾经爱过的人

没有一个正在今夜死去或静静地醒躺着

孤独地,听着雨声,

不管是在痛苦之中还是在同情之中

无助地处于生者和死者之中,

象一滴冰凉的水在折断了的芦苇里,

无量数的折断了的芦苇全都静止而僵硬,

象我,所有的爱都被这场暴雨

浇灭了,除了对死的爱,

倘若它是趋向完美之物的爱,并且

如暴风雨告诉我的,不会令人失望。【周伟驰译】


2020-07-15 05:22:49
2020-07-15 05:23:54
4537020 复 4344063
万年看客万年看客`28000`/bbsIMG/face/0000.gif`70`7`25632`186765`从五品上:朝请大夫|游骑将军`2008-09-25 10:28:43`
不止一次战争的诗人2 1

如果说爱德华.托马斯与查尔斯.索利表明了我们对于“战争诗人”的通常看法并不全面,那么1914-1918年之间的女性战争诗人们的作品我们恐怕就更加不熟悉了。对于受过教育且思想丰富的女性来说,战争不仅带来了强烈的挫折感,也奉上了可观的机会。一方面她们不得不让到一旁,眼看着丈夫、兄弟与情人走上战场;另一方面她们终于得到了机会——甚至可以说背负上了责任——去从事各种她们在爱德华时代的和平状态下原本无法插足的社会活动,例如驾驶卡车与公交车,担任办公室文员,前往法国照料伤员,下地干农活,以及在兵工厂里组装枪炮弹药。在战争之前的几年里,英国的激进女性投票权运动达到了顶峰。战争开始之后,女性们不仅学会了抽烟,还品尝到了独立生活的滋味。一旦食髓知味之后,再想让她们返回原本的生活方式就不容易了。她们笔下的诗歌完全可以像任何一位退役军官的老干部体诗文那样充满盲目的爱国主义情结。杰西卡.波普是一位广受欢迎的记者兼作家,正是她最早发现了罗伯特.特莱赛尔的《穿破裤子的慈善家》的原稿。战争开始之后她的作品随即充满了侵略主义气息,以至于威尔弗雷德.欧文讽刺地将自己的名作《为国捐躯》(Dulce et Decorum Est)献给了她。但是尽管波普的腔调咄咄逼人,下面这首《战争姑娘》(War Girls)依然向我们充分展现了当时本土战线上的精神风貌:

There's the girl who clips your ticket for the train,

And the girl who speeds the lift from floor to floor,

There's the girl who does a milk-round in the rain,

And the girl who calls for orders at your door.

Strong, sensible, and fit,

They're out to show their grit,

And tackle jobs with energy and knack.

No longer caged and penned up,

They're going to keep their end up

Till the khaki soldier boys come marching back.

这姑娘在火车上为你检票,

这姑娘在楼层间将电梯操作,

这姑娘冒雨将一瓶瓶牛奶送到,

这姑娘上门统计你家餐桌缺什么。

强壮、敏感而又康健,

她们的坚强要让所有人看见,

干起活来娴熟灵巧精力不亏。

今后再不做笼中鸟,

一定要将分内工作干好,

直到穿卡其布的小伙子们凯旋而归。

There's the motor girl who drives a heavy van,

There's the butcher girl who brings your joint of meat,

There's the girl who cries 'All fares, please!' like a man,

And the girl who whistles taxis up the street.

Beneath each uniform

Beats a heart that's soft and warm,

Though of canny mother-wit they show no lack;

But a solemn statement this is,

They've no time for love and kisses

Till the khaki soldier-boys come marching back.

这姑娘是司机,专门将卡车驾驭,

这姑娘是屠户,一刀将肘子卸掉,

这姑娘像男人那样大喊:“上车请投币!”

这姑娘当街拦下出租车,响亮地吹口哨。

每一套制服都会遮掩

她们的心灵多么温柔温暖,

办事更是精明干练全都像老阿姨,

但是她们都许下了肃穆誓言,

眼下真没工夫月下花前,

直到穿卡其布的小伙子们战胜顽敌。

对于工人阶级出身的姑娘们来说,战争尤其带来了前所未有的工作岗位,工资水平更是让开战之前的她们连想都不敢想。关于麦德琳.伊达.贝德福德的生平我们知之甚少,只能大概猜测她曾经在兵工厂工作过。她为我们留下了一首精神饱满的短诗:《军工工资》(Munition Wages)。笔者一直主张,越是应景的诗歌越能起到时间胶囊的效果,能够将日常用语的声口保留下来。这首诗就是个好例子:

Earning high wages?

Yus, Five quid a week.

A woman, too, mind you,

I calls it dim sweet.

挣高工资?

没错,一周五镑钱。

别忘了我还是女的,

这活计还挺甜。

Ye'are asking some questions –

But bless yer, here goes:

I spends the whole racket

On good times and clothes.

有话直说我没意见,

我知道你想问什么:

我的工资一分不剩,

全都花在衣服玩乐。

Me saving? Elijah!

Yer do think I'm mad.

I'm acting the lady,

But – I ain't living bad.

问我存了多少钱?老天爷啊!

你真以为我脑子进水?

我难得过两天上流生活,

你却嫌我日子太美。

I'm having life's good times.

See 'ere, it's like this:

The 'oof come o' danger,

A touch-and-go bizz.

每天都要享受生活,

你要不服就四下多看看,

看这厂房多么危险,

稍微出点岔子就要完蛋。

We're all here today, mate,

Tomorrow – perhaps dead,

If Fate tumbles on us

And blows up our shed.

老哥,咱们今天活得挺好,

可是明天就说不准要咽气。

如果命运栽倒在我们头上,

一轮爆炸打发我们暴毙。

Afraid! Are yer kidding?

With money to spend!

Years back I wore tatters,

Now – silk stockings, mi friend!

我说朋友,你可别瞎扯了!

兜里有钱谁顾得上害怕?

去年我还穿一身破布,

如今换上了丝绸长袜!

I've bracelets and jewellery,

Rings envied by friends;

A sergeant to swank with,

And something to lend.

如今我配备了手镯项链,

戒指让朋友看了都眼馋;

我男朋友是一位士官,

现在轮到别人找我借钱。

I drive out in taxis,

Do theatres in style.

And this is mi verdict –

It is jolly worth while.

我现在出门就要打的,

出入剧院风风光光。

如果这就是命运的裁决——

这几天活得倒也不枉。

Worth while, for tomorrow

If I'm blown to the sky,

I'll have repaid mi wages

In death – and pass by.

倒也不枉,因为到明天,

假设我被炸到了天上,

我的劳动对得起工资,

可以心安理得地销账。

当代读者大概会觉得这首诗对于所处时代来说写得过于喜气洋洋了一点。但是也有许多女性诗人采取了另外的立场。她们在组装即将撕裂血肉的弹药时始终因为自己的所作所为而满心痛苦。下面这首诗是玛丽.加百列.柯林斯创作的《兵工厂里的女性》(Women at Munition Making):

Their hands should minister unto the flame of life,

Their fingers guide

The rosy teat, swelling with milk,

To the eager mouth of the suckling babe

Or smooth with tenderness,

Softly and soothingly,

The heated brow of the ailing child.

Or stray among the curls

Of the boy or girl, thrilling to mother love.

But now,

Their hands, their fingers

Are coarsened in munition factories.

Their thoughts, which should fly

Like bees among the sweetest mind flowers

Gaining nourishment for the thoughts to be,

Are bruised against the law,

‘Kill, kill’.

They must take part in defacing and destroying the natural body

Which, certainly during this dispensation

Is the shrine of the spirit.

O God!

Throughout the ages we have seen,

Again and again

Men by Thee created

Cancelling each other.

And we have marvelled at the seeming annihilation

Of Thy work.

But this goes further,

Taints the fountain head,

Mounts like a poison to the Creator’s very heart.

O God!

Must It anew be sacrificed on earth?

她们的双手理应料理生命之火,

她们的十指理应引导

胀满奶水的玫瑰色乳头

填入哺乳婴儿的嗷嗷小口。

或者柔和且平稳地

温柔地抚慰

患病儿童的发热眉头。

或者迷失在男孩或者女孩的

满头卷发当中,倾注母爱。

但是现在,

她们的双手,她们的十指,

在兵工厂里磨得粗粝。

她们的思绪原本应该像

蜜蜂那样在最甜蜜的花海当中飞舞,

为思想收集养料,

如今却被法律粗暴碰伤,

“杀戮,杀戮。”

她们必须参与天然人体的摧残与毁坏——

当然,在当前体制下

人体是供奉精神的神龛。

哦上帝啊!

在我们所见过的历代岁月

一次又一次

你们生育出来的男人

一直在相互消灭。

我们则惊叹于你的手艺

造成了怎样的湮灭。

但是如今更加过分,

玷污了泉源,

将毒刃插进了造物主的心脏。

哦上帝啊!

它莫非要再一次献祭在人间?

埃兹拉.庞德曾经抱怨道,在战争时期几乎是个人就会写诗——当时宛如洪水一般的大量爱国主义诗歌的确淹没了英国的印刷媒体。这其中有一位夏洛特.米尔,她的文坛地位要远远超过本章提到的其他女性诗人,就连托马斯.哈代都是她的仰慕者。她的《1915年五月》(May 1915)从1915年的视角出发展望了和平,从而直面了国内不断增长的厌战情绪:

Let us remember Spring will come again

To the scorched, blackened woods, where the wounded trees

Wait with their old wise patience for the heavenly rain,

Sure of the sky: sure of the sea to send its healing breeze,

Sure of the sun, and even as to these

Surely the Spring, when God shall please,

Will come again like a divine surprise

To those who sit today with their great Dead, hands in their hands

Eyes in their eyes

At one with Love, at one with Grief: blind to the scattered things

And changing skies.

让我们记住春天还会再次降临

来到焦枯炭黑的森林,树木虽然深受荼毒,

依然与他们古老智慧的耐心一起等待天降甘霖,

必然从天空降落:大海必然送来愈伤清风吹拂。

即便对于他们来说,太阳必然还会升起,

春天肯定也如此,待到上帝心中欢喜意,

就会再度降临,恰似神赐的惊喜

致那些今天与伟大死者同坐的人们,握住他们的手,看进他们的眼中,

与他们共同爱恋,共同悲哀;却没看到四散的事物与变幻的天空。

但是当和平终于到来时,沉重的悲痛与损失,社会的动荡与混乱,都意味着眼前的“和平”总让人感觉不对。依列娜.法吉恩出身于一户小说家、音乐家与剧院从业者的家庭,今天人们主要记得她的儿童文学与深受喜爱的赞美诗作品:

Morning has broken

Like the first morning

Blackbird has spoken

Like the first bird

Praise for the singing

Praise for the morning

Praise for them springing

Fresh from the Word

天色已经放亮,

恰似世间首次黎明,

乌鸫已经歌唱,

恰似飞鸟初次鸣叫。

赞美歌声啼鸣,

赞美清亮黎明,

赞美万千形名

源自太初之道。

但是法吉恩绝非只有温婉虔信的一面。她与罗伯特.弗罗斯特以及爱德华.托马斯都交情甚笃,战争结束时她创作了一首令人惊奇的女权主义诗歌,名叫《和平》(Peace):

I

I am as awful as my brother War,

I am the sudden silence after clamour.

I am the face that shows the seamy scar

When blood and frenzy has lost its glamour.

Men in my pause shall know the cost at last

That is not to be paid in triumphs or tears,

Men will begin to judge the thing that's past

As men will judge it in a hundred years.

我就像我的兄弟战争一样可怕,

我是喊杀震天之后的突然死寂。

我是血污面孔将伤疤层层披挂,

当杀戮狂热突然失去诱人魅力。

当我暂停时人们终将知道有些代价

难以支付,不能采用泪水或者凯旋,

人们将会着手将逝去的事物评价,

后人也自有评说,待到再过一百年。

Nations! whose ravenous engines must be fed

Endlessly with the father and the son,

My naked light upon your darkness, dread! -

By which ye shall behold what ye have done:

Whereon, more like a vulture than a dove,

Ye set my seal in hatred, not in love.

列国啊!你们那饕餮的引擎决不能缺少食物,

无休止地吞吃了多少父亲与儿子!

我的赤裸光明照亮了你们的黑暗多么可怖!

让你们看清楚自己干了什么好事:

与其说是鸽子,倒不如说与秃鹫更像,

你们将我的印记设为仇恨,而不是爱的模样。

II

Let no man call me good. I am not blest.

My single virtue is the end of crimes,

I only am the period of unrest,

The ceasing of horrors of the times;

My good is but the negative of ill,

Such ill as bends the spirit with despair,

Such ill as makes the nations' soul stand still

And freeze to stone beneath a Gorgon glare.

人们切莫称我为善,我并不是福祉。

我唯一的德行就是结束罪恶。

我无非只是动荡岁月的休止,

让时代的恐怖暂且消退片刻。

我的善行无非是弊病的缺失,

这弊病能用绝望扭曲精神,

这弊病让列国灵魂呆立如痴

化作顽石,恰似遇到蛇发女妖的眼神。

Be blunt, and say that peace is but a state

Wherein the active soul is free to move,

And nations only show as mean or great

According to the spirit then they prove. -

O which of ye whose battle-cry is Hate

Will first in peace dare shout the name of Love?

说老实话吧,承认和平无法长久,

主动的灵魂可以在其中任意进退,

列国的形象,无论伟大还是卑丑,

都与各自彰显的精神呼应相对。

你们当中有谁曾经将仇恨当成战吼,

还要在和平时期抢先高呼爱的名讳?


2020-07-15 05:23:54
4537184 复 4537020
桥上
设使锥处囊中

2020-07-16 01:13:39
2020-07-16 02:25:05
4537191 复 4537187
桥上
桥上`24173`/bbsIMG/face/0002.gif`70`182377`23146`917197`正三品:金紫光禄大夫|冠军大将军`2008-04-16 00:13:57`
可不是牢骚, 1

是说那位军工姑娘和和那位斩肘子的姑娘,战争让他们获得了颖脱而出的机会。


2020-07-16 02:25:05
2020-07-17 06:02:57
4537434 复 4344063
万年看客万年看客`28000`/bbsIMG/face/0000.gif`70`7`25632`186765`从五品上:朝请大夫|游骑将军`2008-09-25 10:28:43`
不止一次战争的诗人3 1

说到知名度最高且最有分量的一群战争诗人,他们眼中最大的罪孽就是鼓吹仇恨。他们当中的大部分人参战时满腔热情,终战时则一肚子怨愤。尽管书面记录不足以传达全部事实,但是罗伯特.格雷夫斯、西格里夫.萨松、威尔弗雷德.欧文、艾萨克.罗森伯格以及艾弗.格尼全都有资格在英国诗歌的故事里占据一席之地。他们的重要性与影响力足以与浪漫派诗人或者伊丽莎白时代的十四行诗诗人相提并论,尽管他们实现这一点的方式与前辈有所不同,而且违背了他们当中大多数人的意愿。

他们当中有一位诗人的诗名与战争诗歌的关系最小,也正是此人率先采用现实主义笔法描写了战壕里的生活。罗伯特.格雷夫斯的双亲分别是一位爱尔兰盖尔语学者与一位德国贵族,德国著名的民族主义史学家利奥波德.冯.兰克是他的亲戚。尽管与德国之间有这份关系,而且从小体弱多病,但是他依然在战争一开始就加入了英军,在皇家威尔士燧发枪团服役。他在索姆河战役期间身负重伤不过捡回了一条命。如今读者们提到他时往往首先会想到他在战后创作的作品,例如长篇小说《克劳狄乌斯自传》以及关于神话的论文。他的战争诗歌并不像他的好友萨松的作品那样充溢着火气,但是却像优秀的新闻报道一样清新迫切。请看《1915》:

I’VE watched the Seasons passing slow, so slow,

In the fields between La Bassée and Bethune;

Primroses and the first warm day of Spring,

Red poppy floods of June,

August, and yellowing Autumn, so 5

To Winter nights knee-deep in mud or snow,

And you’ve been everything.

我眼看着季节缓慢地经过,如此缓慢,

在拉巴塞与贝蒂讷之间的田地,

迎春花开放在第一个和煦春日,

赤红的虞美人在七八月份的夏季

恣意横流,还有秋天的金黄一片,

再加上齐膝深的冬夜积雪或者泥浆稀烂,

你这就算见识过了一年四季。

Dear, you’ve been everything that I most lack

In these soul-deadening trenches—pictures, books,

Music, the quiet of an English wood,

Beautiful comrade-looks,

The narrow, bouldered mountain-track,

The broad, full-bosomed ocean, green and black,

And Peace, and all that’s good.

亲爱的,你是我最缺乏的所有,

在这扼杀灵魂的战壕里——绘画,书籍,音乐旋律,

英格兰森林里的安宁,

同道友人的眼神多么美丽,

巨石嶙峋的山间小路狭窄而峭陡,

宽广的大海舒展碧绿与黝黑的胸口,

一切善与美的事物,以及和平。

但是随着战争推进,格雷夫斯的口吻也越发刚硬起来。在下面这首《死德国佬》(A Dead Boche)当中他将笔锋指向了国内的侵略主义思潮,笔法之恶毒足以与萨松或者欧文相媲美:

TO you who’d read my songs of War

And only hear of blood and fame,

I’ll say (you’ve heard it said before)

“War’s Hell!” and if you doubt the same,

Today I found in Mametz Wood

A certain cure for lust of blood:

你若读过我的战争诗歌,

却只听见了鲜血与荣耀,

那么——这话你肯定听过——我得跟你说:

“战争是地狱!”你若以为我开玩笑,

今天我在马梅斯森林之中

找到一物能治好嗜血发疯。

Where, propped against a shattered trunk,

In a great mess of things unclean,

Sat a dead Boche; he scowled and stunk

With clothes and face a sodden green,

Big-bellied, spectacled, crop-haired,

Dribbling black blood from nose and beard.

我看到半棵大树,上半截被炸得粉碎,

周遭土地浸透了各种肮脏污物,

树下坐着一名狰狞的死德国佬散发臭秽,

潮湿惨绿是他的衣装与面目,

肚皮膨胀,眼珠凸出,纠结的头发,

黑色的污血顺着鼻孔与胡须向下滴答。

西格里夫.萨松这个名字一看就像格雷夫斯一样与德国有瓜葛,不过事实并非如此。西格里夫或者说“齐格菲尔德”这个名字是他的母亲给他起的,这位女性是盎格鲁-天主教信徒,还是瓦格纳歌剧的粉丝。不过他的父亲则是犹太人。尽管萨松本人相貌英俊,作战勇猛而且才华横溢,但是他在英国上游社会却似乎总是觉得有些不自在。在所有以战争为题材的诗歌当中就属他的作品最为愤怒。1917年他甚至公开呼吁要与德国谈判停火。当时发表这种言论被视为叛国行径,很可能会害他遭到枪毙,好在朋友们发动各种关系把他送进了爱丁堡的一家精神病院。在病院里他结识了威尔弗雷德.欧文。萨松不仅在战场上表现英勇,而且心理上也很勇敢。他的诗歌通俗易懂,更接近匕首投枪式的讽刺而不是更深入的反思。以下用他的三首著名作品举例。第一首名叫《基地生活》(Base Details):

If I were fierce, and bald, and short of breath

I'd live with scarlet Majors at the Base,

And speed glum heroes up the line to death.

You'd see me with my puffy petulant face,

Guzzling and gulping in the best hotel,

Reading the Roll of Honour. "Poor young chap,"

I'd say — "I used to know his father well;

Yes, we've lost heavily in this last scrap."

And when the war is done and youth stone dead,

I'd toddle safely home and die — in bed.

若我暴躁、谢顶、气喘吁吁,

便可同面色绯红的少校们同住基地,

打发沉郁的英雄们去前线捐躯。

而我则绷起一张胖脸耍些脾气,

在最高档饭店里胡吃海塞没够,

还要翻阅阵亡名册:“多么悲痛,

我和这小子的父亲可是交情深厚;

好吧,最近这批新兵损失得有点惨重。”

当战争结束,当年轻人全都死去,

我便施施然回到家里,躺在床上咽气。【参考了段冶的译文】

第二首诗名叫《无所谓吧?》(Does it matter?):

DOES it matter?—losing your legs?...

For people will always be kind,

And you need not show that you mind

When the others come in after hunting

To gobble their muffins and eggs.

无所谓吧?双腿都断……

人们总是如此友善,

当他们打猎结束后走进餐馆

将松饼和鸡蛋狼吞虎咽,

你的难过无须表现。

Does it matter?—losing your sight?...

There’s such splendid work for the blind;

And people will always be kind,

As you sit on the terrace remembering

And turning your face to the light.

无所谓吧?双眼都盲……

有那么好的工作给盲人去干,

何况人们如此友善,

随你坐在阶上回想,

朝着阳光转过脸庞。

Do they matter?—those dreams from the pit?...

You can drink and forget and be glad,

And people won’t say that you’re mad;

For they’ll know you’ve fought for your country

And no one will worry a bit.

无所谓吧?弹坑残余的梦魇?……

何不纵酒,遗忘,开怀释然,

没人会笑你痴狂疯癫,

他们知道你曾为国家奋战,

相信你准会被安排妥善。

最后一首诗是《进攻》(Attack):

At dawn the ridge emerges massed and dun

In the wild purple of the glow'ring sun,

Smouldering through spouts of drifting smoke that shroud

The menacing scarred slope; and, one by one,

Tanks creep and topple forward to the wire.

The barrage roars and lifts. Then, clumsily bowed

With bombs and guns and shovels and battle-gear,

Men jostle and climb to, meet the bristling fire.

Lines of grey, muttering faces, masked with fear,

They leave their trenches, going over the top,

While time ticks blank and busy on their wrists,

And hope, with furtive eyes and grappling fists,

Flounders in mud. O Jesus, make it stop!

暗褐山峦,在黎明中巍然显现,

太阳怒目,射出紫色光焰,

它缓慢灼烧,以腾腾烟雾

包覆创痕累叠的坡面。

坦克鱼贯,朝铁网爬行、倾碾。

炮火的矩阵呼啸腾空。兵士背负

枪弹、衣甲和铁锨,在重压下佝偻,

推搡着攀向怒号的火线。

尘灰遮蔽、喃喃自语的脸,敷满惊恐,

他们离开战壕,要翻越山巅,

他们腕上,时间走得空洞而惶急,

目光犹疑、双拳紧攥的希望,在淤泥里挣扎。

基督啊!请让这一切停下!【段冶译】

西格里夫.萨松是一位著作等身的诗人,笔下名篇佳作数不胜数,笔者在此就不一一赘述了。不过笔者希望读者们此时都已看清,战争体验在萨松这一级别的诗人手里怎样改变了英国诗歌。原本只为追求音律效果而存在的松散辞藻被灼烧殆尽,林中仙子与闺中美女被劈砍一空,诗人们本着如救头燃的态度将为了艺术而艺术的穷尽颓废之风替换成了明确的现代化描述性语言。换言之,1915年愤怒且不耐烦地将英国诗歌一下子就从1852年拽到了1950年。战争几乎改变了英国的一切,英国与诗歌的关系也不能例外。

许多战争诗人都是同一个小圈子里的成员。罗伯特.格雷夫斯起初因为西格里夫.萨松的反战抗议而与后者吵得不可开交,但是后来还是多亏他从中斡旋,萨松才得以躲进精神病院。上游出身、气质浮华且自信饱满的萨松在病院里遇到了穷苦出身、缺乏自信的威尔弗雷德.欧文。这两人很有可能都是男同,后来也都选择了重返战场。欧文的运气差一些,死在了终战前的最后一周。他的诗作一度默默无闻,与此同时萨松则成为了全国名人。但是随着时间推移,欧文也逐渐成为了读者眼中最彻底的一战诗人,其他人都要站在他的荫庇之下。他从小生长在伯肯海德与舒斯伯里,父亲是一名火车站长。尽管家里没多少钱,但是多亏爱德华时代的文化普及,他就像许多其他家境不好的孩子们一样接受了丰富的教育——他浸淫在浪漫主义诗人们的作品当中,还以圣公会信徒的身份熟读了圣经。因此他的战争诗歌充满了各种节律,读起来铿锵有力,令萨松难忘项背。请看《青春挽歌》(Anthem for Doomed Youth)

What passing-bells for these who die as cattle?

Only the monstrous anger of the guns.

Only the stuttering rifles' rapid rattle

Can patter out their hasty orisons.

要为牛羊一般的受死者敲起何等丧钟?

只有骇人的怒吼,来自狰狞的火炮。

只有喋喋不休又急切不断的枪声

可以仓促叨念出他们的死前祷告。

No mockeries for them;no prayers nor bells,

Nor any voice of mourning save the choirs, ——

The shrill, demented choirs of wailing shells;

And bugles calling for them from sad shires.

没有虚伪的颂经,也没有祈祷或教堂鸣钟,

没有哀悼的歌唱,唯有唱诗班戳心戳肺——

嚎啕痛哭的炮弹,尖锐疯狂地合唱齐声,

还有悲哀阵地上的军号喝令他们或进或退。

What candles may be held to speed them all?

Not in the hands of boys, but in their eyes

Shall shine the holy glimmers of goodbyes.

要托举着怎样的蜡烛催促他们启程?

并不在男孩的手里,而是在于眼神伤悲,

烛火闪耀着永诀不见的神圣光辉。

The pallor of girls' brows shall be their pall;

Their flowers the tenderness of patient minds,

And each slow dusk a drawing-down of blinds.

他们的棺布应当是女孩的苍白面容

温柔的忍耐化作花束与他们同归,

垂下的窗帘迎接每一次落日余晖。

欧文的最伟大作品《奇怪的会面》(Strange Meeting)的韵律完全现代化,同时又回荡着济慈与弥尔顿的气息,其中有些句子就连柯勒律治看了也要眼红:

It seemed that out of battle I escaped

Down some profound dull tunnel, long since scooped

Through granites which titanic wars had groined.

Yet also there encumbered sleepers groaned,

Too fast in thought or death to be bestirred.

Then, as I probed them, one sprang up, and stared

With piteous recognition in fixed eyes,

Lifting distressful hands, as if to bless.

And by his smile, I knew that sullen hall,—

By his dead smile I knew we stood in Hell.

With a thousand fears that vision's face was grained;

Yet no blood reached there from the upper ground,

And no guns thumped, or down the flues made moan.

“Strange friend,” I said, “here is no cause to mourn.”

“None,” said that other, “save the undone years,

The hopelessness. Whatever hope is yours,

Was my life also; I went hunting wild

After the wildest beauty in the world,

Which lies not calm in eyes, or braided hair,

But mocks the steady running of the hour,

And if it grieves, grieves richlier than here.

For by my glee might many men have laughed,

And of my weeping something had been left,

Which must die now. I mean the truth untold,

The pity of war, the pity war distilled.

Now men will go content with what we spoiled.

Or, discontent, boil bloody, and be spilled.

They will be swift with swiftness of the tigress.

None will break ranks, though nations trek from progress.

Courage was mine, and I had mystery;

Wisdom was mine, and I had mastery:

To miss the march of this retreating world

Into vain citadels that are not walled.

Then, when much blood had clogged their chariot-wheels,

I would go up and wash them from sweet wells,

Even with truths that lie too deep for taint.

I would have poured my spirit without stint

But not through wounds; not on the cess of war.

Foreheads of men have bled where no wounds were.

I am the enemy you killed, my friend.

I knew you in this dark: for so you frowned

Yesterday through me as you jabbed and killed.

I parried; but my hands were loath and cold.

Let us sleep now. . . .”

我似乎从战场上逃命脱身,

钻进了一条甬道漫长幽深,

挖穿了花岗岩,应当是巨神大战的遗迹,

多少沉睡之人横躺在甬道里呻吟叹气,

要么思虑重重,要么早已死透,全都一动不动,

我戳了戳其中一个,他立刻起身两眼圆瞪,

神情可怜,眼神空洞神采全无,

举起颤巍巍的双手,似乎要为我祝福。

看他的微笑,我认出了这沉闷之地,

他笑得死气沉沉,因此我们身在地狱。

一千重恐惧打磨出这个幻象的面孔纹理,

但是地面上的鲜血却流不到这里,

听不见枪炮齐鸣,也没有呻吟传来顺着烟道,

“奇特的朋友啊,”我说,“这里并没有理由哀悼。”

“确实没有,”对方说道,“除了荒废的年岁时刻,

全无希望。无论你的希望都是些什么,

我的生平也是一样。我曾在野外狩猎,

追逐最狂野的美丽走遍全世界,

这份美丽不在于精美的发辫或者眼神的静谧,

但却嘲笑着从不暂停的时光逝去,

它若是哀悼,要比这里的哀悼更加堂皇富丽。

我的欢乐让多少人笑得没够,

我的哭泣将某些事物留在身后,

现在必定早已死亡,那些无人言说的事实根由,

战争当中的悲剧,悲惨战争的提纯蒸馏。

我们糟蹋了这许多,没有离人会感到满意,

不满的离人必将鲜血沸腾泼洒在地。

他们将像雌虎扑食一般迅捷又快速,

他们不会离队,尽管列国都已背离进步。

我曾勇敢,我曾神秘莫测:

我曾智慧,我曾自主掌握:

我避让过了这个撤退世界的行军匆忙,

他们将要躲进空虚堡垒四周没有护墙。

当干涸鲜血糊住了他们的战车轮,

我将从甜水井中汲水为他们洗尘,

甚至还会用上事实,埋藏太深不会变色。

我将会倾倒出我的精神绝不吝啬,

但是并非通过伤口,并非通过战争的税负。

无伤之人的前额同样血流如注。

我是被你所杀的敌人,我的朋友。

我在黑暗中认识了你:因为昨天你眉头紧皱

瞪着我,将刺刀扎进我的胸膛。

我试图格挡,但是双手沉重冰凉。

让我们安息吧……”

最后,对于一本要用诗歌来串联各时代英国体验的书来说,决不能放过欧文的最著名作品《为国捐躯》(Dulce Et Decorum Est)——当时英国的每一所中小学都会用金字将这行拉丁文写在显要之处。

Bent double, like old beggars under sacks,

Knock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge,

Till on the haunting flares we turned our backs,

And towards our distant rest began to trudge.

Men marched asleep. Many had lost their boots,

But limped on, blood-shod. All went lame, all blind;

Drunk with fatigue; deaf even to the hoots

Of gas-shells dropping softly behind.

弯腰低头,像个老乞丐驮着沉重包裹,

迈八字脚,像巫婆一样咳嗽,我们在污泥里诅咒,

然后转身背对信号弹挂在半空迟迟不落,

开始朝着遥远的兵营一步步向前凑。

人们半睡半醒地行进。许多人将军靴丢掉,

却仍步履蹒跚,顾不得瘸腿瞎眼,血流不断,

累得如同烂醉;聋得都听不到炮弹尖啸,

一枚枚毒气弹柔和地落在他们后面。

Gas! Gas! Quick, boys! - An ecstay of fumbling,

Fitting the clumsy helmets just in time,

But someone still was yelling out and stumbling

And floundering like a man in fire or lime. -

Dim through the misty panes and thick green light

As under a green sea, I saw him drowning.

In all my dreams before my helpless sight

He plunges at me, guttering, choking, drowning.

氯气!氯气!快跑啊兄弟们!——一阵激烈狂乱,

刚刚来得及把粗劣的面具带上;

但是有些人还在喊叫,脚下磕磕绊绊,

像是在火焰或是硝石当中挣扎踉跄……

一片阴暗,透过迷蒙护目镜与浓绿亮光,

宛如沉入幽绿海水,我看见他在溺毙。

在我所有梦中都无助地看他在我前方,

向我扑来,奄奄一息,呛水断气。

If in some smothering dreams, you too could pace

Behind the wagon that we flung him in,

And watch the white eyes writhing in his face,

His hanging face, like a devil's sick of sin;

If you could hear, at every jolt, the blood

Come gargling from the froth-corrupted lungs,

Bitter as the cud

of vile, incurable sores on innocent tongues, -

My friend, you would not tell with such high zest

To children ardent for some desperate glory,

The old Lie: Dulce et decorum est Pro patria mori.

假使在窒息的梦里,你也能跟随卡车,

当我们将他扔进车里尽快转移,

看着他脸上乱转不止的白眼两颗,

脸色如同吊死鬼,又像魔鬼罪孽化成的恶疾;

假使你能听见,每一次颠簸让血浆

流出毒沫侵蚀的肺叶,汩汩作响在喉头,

苦得好像反刍入口的毒疮,

不治的溃疡覆盖了无罪的舌头,——

我的朋友,那你就不会如此热情地

向渴求光荣的孩童宣讲古老的谎言:

为国捐躯,合宜而又甘甜。


2020-07-17 06:02:57
2020-07-24 06:55:34
4538939 复 4344063
万年看客万年看客`28000`/bbsIMG/face/0000.gif`70`7`25632`186765`从五品上:朝请大夫|游骑将军`2008-09-25 10:28:43`
不止一次战争的诗人4 1

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。


2020-07-24 06:55:34
2020-07-29 02:18:25
4540054 复 4344063
万年看客万年看客`28000`/bbsIMG/face/0000.gif`70`7`25632`186765`从五品上:朝请大夫|游骑将军`2008-09-25 10:28:43`
不止一次战争的诗人5 1

第三位鬼魂的发言的确属实,尽管格尼在战争结束后忍受了整整二十年的痛苦而并非只有一个小时。

我们还要提到最后一位在一战前后达到创作巅峰的战争诗人,不过此人的名字并未出现在威斯敏斯特大教堂的石板上。毋庸置疑,这是以为他参与的战争并不同于上述几位。此前笔者就提到过威廉.巴特勒.叶芝,此人堪称二十世纪最伟大的英语诗人。一战前夕柏林方面之所以相信英国尚未做好战争准备,原因之一就在于爱尔兰内战迫在眉睫。英国政府提出的爱尔兰本土自治方案激发了乌尔斯特叛乱,还分裂了英国的民意。叶芝有一位朋友名叫爱德华.卡森,是乌尔斯特的一名律师,当初还是起诉奥斯卡.王尔德的控方。此人在吉卜林的怂恿下组织了反对本土自治的乌尔斯特志愿军。所以说在英格兰确实有人同情起义者。另一方面,爱尔兰民族主义者则成立了爱尔兰共和兄弟会,还希望德皇能为他们正在筹划的反英起义提供外援。

此时早已在伦敦文学界打响名号的叶芝无可救药地爱上了一位毛德.冈尼,她是某个信奉爱尔兰民族主义的大户人家的千金。冈尼反复拒绝了叶芝的示爱,最终嫁给了激进派爱尔兰民族主义者约翰.麦克布莱上校。叶芝一方面想要维持自己体面的社会形象,同时又放不下对于爱尔兰的深切浪漫情怀。他在年轻时加入了爱尔兰共和兄弟会,并且认识1916年复活节起义的许多参与者。但是到了1912年他已经不再是一位芬尼亚主义革命者了。他创作了许多关于复活节起义的非凡诗篇,但是却秘不示人,唯恐在当时掀起轩然大波。一直等到1920年他才发表了这批诗作。但是不管怎么说这也都算是战争诗歌,而且二十世纪二十年代初的爱尔兰局势也确实逐渐恶化到了爆发内战的地步。叶芝也见证了内战的恐怖。笔者曾经辩称,弗兰德斯杀戮场造成的心理冲击震撼了英国诗坛,使其恢复了活力。类似的论断也可以用来形容叶芝的作品。面对着困难且痛苦的政治选项,面对着英雄主义的牺牲与背叛,叶芝的诗文摒弃了此前的一切感伤与慵懒。千锤百炼之后的叶芝诗歌锋利、坚定且古典气质浓厚,简直与他所处的时代格格不入。

自从1914年以来,爱尔兰的爱国者们一直在辩论当前的最佳策略。或许他们应当加入英军,等到战胜德国之后再来争取爱尔兰的未来;又或者应当将英国的战败当成爱尔兰争取自由的机会。1914年,大约有四万余名来自爱尔兰南方的天主教徒加入英军并宣誓对英王乔治五世效忠,为首的是爱尔兰民族主义温和派领导人约翰.雷德蒙德。从此时起到1916年复活节起义位置加入英军的爱尔兰人一直络绎不绝。当然,他们的心里全都十分矛盾。这其中有一位罗伯特.格里高利上校,是叶芝的密友格里高利夫人的儿子。此人是一名著名运动员以及很有才华的艺术家——就像罗森伯格一样他也考入了斯莱德美术学院。他于1915年参军,1916年被调拨到了皇家飞行中队。三十七岁那年他在战斗中被意大利友军战机不慎击中并且坠机身亡。叶芝由此创作了他的第一首伟大战争诗歌《一名爱尔兰飞行员预知自己的死》(An Irish Airman Foresees His Death)。这首诗发表于战争结束之后不久——通读一遍就能明白诗人为什么要选择这个发表时机:

I know that I shall meet my fate

Somewhere among the clouds above;

Those that I fight I do not hate

Those that I guard I do not love;

我知道我早晚要遭逢命运——

在高天重云的此处或彼处;

我对于敌手不抱丝毫仇恨,

我也并非出于爱才去守护;

My country is Kiltartan Cross,

My countrymen Kiltartan's poor,

No likely end could bring them loss

Or leave them happier than before.

基尔塔坦岔口是我家园,

我的乡亲们全都是穷汉,

若战胜,他们不会好过从前,

若战败,他们也没什么缺憾。 

Nor law, nor duty bade me fight,

Nor public men, nor cheering crowds,

A lonely impulse of delight

Drove to this tumult in the clouds;

我作战非迫于义务或法律,

没有名流动员,没有人群欢呼,

唯有一股兴奋跃动之气——

驱策我在云层冲进冲出。

I balanced all, brought all to mind,

The years to come seemed waste of breath,

A waste of breath the years behind

In balance with this life, this death.

我回想一切,权衡一切,

未来岁月似乎毫无意义,

同样没意义的以往岁月,

二者平衡在这生死之际。【傅浩、北斗第一星网友等译】

叶芝最伟大且最著名的战争诗歌的题材是描写复活节起义的《1916年的复活节》(Easter 1916)。以上诗歌的主题——自我牺牲的英雄主义以及针对“名流动员”与“人群欢呼”的厌恶——在这首诗当中得到了微妙的调节。起义失败之后英军处决了十六名起义领导人,其中包括教师与剧作家托马斯.麦克多纳,盖尔文化复兴的倡导者以及爱尔兰民族英雄帕德里克.皮尔斯,爱尔兰工党领导人詹姆斯.康纳利,还有从叶芝身边夺走毛德.冈尼的情敌、诗人痛恨的约翰.麦克布莱。叶芝以非凡的预见性主张这些人的遇害将会彻底改变爱尔兰的局势。仅就参与人数而言,复活节起义的规模并不算大。但是英军针对起义领导层的野蛮镇压却激起了远远更加广泛的爱尔兰民族主义大潮,为1922年现代爱尔兰共和国的建立打下了基础。

I have met them at close of day

Coming with vivid faces

From counter or desk among grey

Eighteenth-century houses.

I have passed with a nod of the head

Or polite meaningless words,

Or have lingered awhile and said

Polite meaningless words,

And thought before I had done

Of a mocking tale or a gibe

To please a companion

Around the fire at the club,

Being certain that they and I

But lived where motley is worn:

All changed, changed utterly:

A terrible beauty is born.

我遇见过他们,当时即将日落,

他们带着活泼的神采

走出十八世纪的灰色房舍,*1

离开了柜台或写字台。

我曾点头致意,当我匆匆经过,

或者与他们寒暄几句,

或者在他们中间厮混片刻

扯些闲话,礼貌且无意义。

我谈话未完就已心思飞转,

想出一个讽刺故事或笑话,

为了待会在俱乐部的炉畔,

逗引某位伙伴开心一下,

因为我相信,我们都不过

是披着杂色小丑袍讨营生。*2

但一切都变了,彻底变了:

一种可怕的美已经诞生。

*1【当时都柏林的建筑多为十八世纪兴建,叶芝本人的住宅也是如此。】

*2【“杂色”似可视为叶芝对于起义者的观感,因为起义人员组成复杂,来自各个社会阶层,既有天主教徒也有新教徒,还有人具有英格兰公民身份。此外,爱尔兰酒鬼也是传统英国戏剧当中常见的丑角形象。】

That woman's days were spent

In ignorant good-will,

Her nights in argument

Until her voice grew shrill.

What voice more sweet than hers

When, young and beautiful,

She rode to harriers?

This man had kept a school

And rode our wingèd horse;

This other his helper and friend

Was coming into his force;

He might have won fame in the end,

So sensitive his nature seemed,

So daring and sweet his thought.

This other man I had dreamed

A drunken, vainglorious lout.

He had done most bitter wrong

To some who are near my heart,

Yet I number him in the song;

He, too, has resigned his part

In the casual comedy;

He, too, has been changed in his turn,

Transformed utterly:

A terrible beauty is born.

那个女人度过一个个白日

看似纯良,其实是在装傻;*3

她的夜晚则充满争执,

争吵到最后喉咙嘶哑。

在她的韶华岁月,青春靓丽,

她也曾纵马猎兔,高声欢笑,

那时谁的声音能比她更甜蜜?

这个男人办了一所学校,

还会将我们的飞马驾驭;

另一位是辅佐此人的良友,*4

同样加入队伍尽心尽力;

也许美名终将落入他手。

他的天性敏感透彻,

他的思想大胆甜蜜。

在我梦中还有个家伙,

虚荣酗酒,为人粗鄙。

他曾经最为苦涩地辜负

我的心上人,最贴近我心意;*5

但是我的歌依然要将他纳入:

只因他摆脱了无聊喜剧,

再也不与其他丑角为伍;

由此也经受了一轮重生,

如此彻底的脱胎换骨:

一种可怕的美已经诞生。

*3【即起义领导人康斯坦丝.马尔凯维奇(Constance Markievicz)。她也是叶芝的童年好友。在起义期间她曾击杀一名(并未持有武器的)都柏林警察,击伤一名英军狙击手。1918年在她入狱期间缺席当选成为了新芬党议员,因此严格来说她是第一位加入威斯敏斯特议会的女性。1919年她还缺席当选了第一届爱尔兰下议会的劳工大臣,并且在出狱后任职到1922年,由此成为了爱尔兰第一位女性内阁官员。】

*4【即帕德里克.皮尔斯与托马斯.麦克多纳。前者开办了一所爱尔兰语学校。】

*5【即约翰.麦克布莱。冈尼与麦克布莱的婚姻最终以破裂收场,她还曾向叶芝控诉麦克布莱殴打自己,但是离婚法庭裁定麦克布莱无罪。麦克布莱被处决之后,冈尼在写给叶芝的信中宣称:“我不喜欢你的诗……我的丈夫已经通过伟大的牺牲之门步入了永恒。”】

Hearts with one purpose alone

Through summer and winter seem

Enchanted to a stone

To trouble the living stream.

The horse that comes from the road,

The rider, the birds that range

From cloud to tumbling cloud,

Minute by minute they change;

A shadow of cloud on the stream

Changes minute by minute;

A horse-hoof slides on the brim,

And a horse plashes within it;

The long-legged moor-hens dive,

And hens to moor-cocks call;

Minute by minute they live:

The stone's in the midst of all.

这些心灵怀有唯一目标,

经过盛夏,经过寒冬,

好像中了魔变为岩礁,

要将源源流水堵塞不通。

马匹沿着大路走来,

骑马的人,以及飞鸟在天,

在乱云之间穿梭往来

分分秒秒地变化万千;

流云投影在溪流上安歇,

变化万千的分分秒秒;

一只马蹄在水边滑跌,

一匹马在水里撒欢洗澡;

长腿的母松鸡俯冲下河,

对着公松鸡咯咯啼叫;

它们全都分分秒秒地活着,

将岿然不动的岩礁环绕。

Too long a sacrifice

Can make a stone of the heart.

O when may it suffice?

That is Heaven's part, our part

To murmur name upon name,

As a mother names her child

When sleep at last has come

On limbs that had run wild.

What is it but nightfall?

No, no, not night but death;

Was it needless death after all?

For England may keep faith

For all that is done and said.

We know their dream; enough

To know they dreamed and are dead;

And what if excess of love

Bewildered them till they died?

I write it out in a verse—

MacDonagh and MacBride

And Connolly and Pearse

Now and in time to be,

Wherever green is worn,

Are changed, changed utterly:

A terrible beauty is born.

若是太长太久将牺牲承受,

心灵也会化作顽石刚硬。

呵,牺牲到何时才算足够?

那只能由上天来决定。

我们唯有默念一个个姓名,

好像母亲将孩子们絮絮念叨。

当姗姗来迟的睡眠终于降临,

将一整天撒欢的四肢笼罩。

难道夜晚就这样来到?

不,不,不是夜晚而是死去;

这死亡是否确有必要?

因为英格兰兴许真会遵守信义,

尽管曾经的言行多么不祥。

他们的梦想我们都已明悟;

知道他们有过梦想并且已经死亡

就够了;哪怕爱得过度

迷惑了他们直到死去?

我用诗文把他们列举出来——

麦克多纳和康纳利,

皮尔斯和麦克布莱。*6

一切身披绿衣之地

在当前与未来都将变更,

彻头彻尾的世殊时异:

一种可怕的美已经诞生。*7【查良铮、袁可嘉等译】

*6【列举烈士姓名是爱尔兰歌谣的传统。】

*7【本诗第二、第四节各有二十四行,以此纪念起义日期4月24日。】

尽管本诗第一节与最后七行最广为人知,但是全诗从头到尾都很值得重读,因为这首诗强烈凸显了叶芝思想的贵族倾向。对于他这样一位家道优渥的新教徒来说,理想的人民并不是天主教农民或者城市工人阶级,而是男女骑士以及接受过高等教育的乡绅。

帕德里克.皮尔斯本人也写诗。他的诗文更简单,更生猛,完全就是宣传品。如果说复活节起义有过一位专属诗人,那肯定就是皮尔斯。请看《起义者》(The Rebel):

I am come of the seed of the people, the people that sorrow;

Who have no treasure but hope,

No riches laid up but a memory of an ancient glory

My mother bore me in bondage, in bondage my mother was born,

I am of the blood of serfs;

The children with whom I have played, the men and women with whom I have eaten

Have had masters over them, have been under the lash of masters,

and though gentle, have served churls.

The hands that have touched mine,

the dear hands whose touch Is familiar to me

Have worn shameful manacles, have been bitten at the wrist by manacles,

have grown hard with the manacles and the task-work of strangers.

I am flesh of the flesh of these lowly, I am bone of their bone I that have never submitted;

I that have a soul greater than the souls of my people’s masters,

I that have vision and prophecy, and the gift of fiery speech,

I that have spoken with God on the top of his holy hill.

And because I am of the people, I understand the people,

I am sorrowful with their sorrow, I am hungry with their desire;

My heart is heavy with the grief of mothers,

My eyes have been wet with the tears of children,

I have yearned with old wistful men,

And laughed and cursed with young men;

Their shame is my shame, and I have reddened for it

Reddened for that they have served, they who should be free

Reddened for that they have gone in want, while others have been full,

Reddened for that they have walked in fear of lawyers and their jailors.

With their Writs of Summons and their handcuffs,

Men mean and cruel.

I could have borne stripes on my body

Rather than this shame of my people.

And now I speak, being full of vision:

I speak to my people, and I speak in my people’s name to

The masters of my people:

I say to my people that they are holy,

That they are august despite their chains.

That they are greater than those that hold them

And stronger and purer,

That they have but need of courage, and to call on the name of their God,

God the unforgetting, the dear God who loves the people

For whom he died naked, suffering shame.

And I say to my people’s masters: Beware

Beware of the thing that is coming, beware of the risen people

Who shall take what ye would not give.

Did ye think to conquer the people, or that law is stronger than life,

And than men’s desire to be free?

We will try it out with you ye that have harried and held,

Ye that have bullied and bribed.

Tyrants… hypocrites… liars!

我是人民的种子的萌芽,那悲伤的人民

他们除了希望之外再无其他宝物,

并未积攒财富,唯有古代荣光的回忆。

我母亲生我时披枷带锁,她出生时同样披枷带锁。

我是农奴的后代;

我童年时的玩伴,曾与我同桌进餐的男男女女

头上都有主人,都生活在主人的鞭笞下,

他们虽然和善,却不得不伺候蛮横鄙夫。

那些曾经触碰过我的手,

那些亲爱的手,它们的触碰我多么熟悉,

全都带着耻辱的镣铐,镣铐咬住了他们的手腕,

他们艰辛成长,带着镣铐完成陌生人的差事。

我是最卑贱之人的肉中之肉,骨中之骨,

我从未屈服过。

我的灵魂比起我的人们的主人的灵魂更加伟大。

我有异象,我有预言,我有口吐烈火的天赋。

我曾在圣山之巅与上帝交谈。

而且因为我就是人民,我理解人民

我的忧愁是他们的忧愁,我的饥饿是他们的欲望,

母亲的悲恸让我心沉重,

孩子们的泪水让我双眼湿润,

我与悲苦的老人一起哀叹,

与年轻人一起大笑怒骂。

他们的耻辱是我的耻辱,我曾气得满面通红,

满面通红是因为本应自由的他们却要服侍别人,

满面通红是因为别人富足时他们却经受匮乏,

满面通红是因为他们出门时总要恐惧律师与狱卒,

还有那些人的传唤令与手铐。

那些卑劣残忍的人们。

我宁愿生下来就穿着囚服

也不愿承受我的人民的耻辱。

现在我要开口,我的眼前充满异象:

我向我的人民发言,我以我的人民的名义向

我的人民的主人们发言。

我对我的人民说,他们生而神圣,

尽管锁链缠身,依然气象宏大。

他们要比压制他们的人更加伟大,

更加强壮,更加春节,

他们所欠缺的知识勇气,只要呼喊上帝的名讳,

那从不遗忘的上帝,那热爱子民的亲爱的上帝,

为了他们祂也曾赤裸而死,受尽羞辱。

接下来我要对我的人民的主人发言:要当心,

要当心即将到来的事件,要当心崛起的人民,

你们不肯给予的,他们将要夺走。

你们莫非以为自己已经征服了人民,法律比生命更强大,

比人们对于自由的渴望更强大?

我们将要拿你们开刀,你们这些惯于迫害与压制的东西,

你们这些惯于欺辱与拉拢的东西。

暴君,伪君子,骗子!


2020-07-29 02:18:25
2020-07-29 02:20:27
4540055 复 4344063
万年看客万年看客`28000`/bbsIMG/face/0000.gif`70`7`25632`186765`从五品上:朝请大夫|游骑将军`2008-09-25 10:28:43`
不止一次战争的诗人6 1

在起义过后,爱尔兰的政治生活就不如先前那样盛行英雄主义了。所谓“我的人民”究竟是谁呢?随着时间的推移,叶芝的傲慢(他逐渐成为了一名英格兰乡绅)与新爱尔兰天主教革命之间的矛盾也变得越发痛苦起来。暴力革命的确具有可怕的美,但是也有着精英西方文化脆弱且不断低落下去的哀鸣。1919年叶芝创作了痛彻五内的《基督再临》(The Second Coming)。对于他来说,以及对于我们将会在下文当中见到的许多人来说,他们此前所理解的西方文明似乎真的正在走向末路。诗中的“盘旋”一词代表了两千年来的历史循环,这一点在诗人的思路当中正变得越发重要。第二节当中的梦魇意象则可以追溯到布莱克与雪莱:

Turning and turning in the widening gyre

The falcon cannot hear the falconer;

Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;

Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,

The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere

The ceremony of innocence is drowned;

The best lack all conviction, while the worst

Are full of passionate intensity.

猎鹰绕着越来越大的圈子不停地盘旋

再也听不见放鹰人的呼唤;

万物分崩离析;中心难以为系;

世上只落下一盘散沙的无政府主义,

血色迷糊的潮流奔腾汹涌,

天真的仪典,亦忍为滔天血浪所湮没;

至善者毫无信心,而至恶者

却躁动不止。

Surely some revelation is at hand;

Surely the Second Coming is at hand.

The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out

When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi

Troubles my sight: somewhere in sands of the desert

A shape with lion body and the head of a man,

A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,

Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it

Reel shadows of the indignant desert birds.

The darkness drops again; but now I know

That twenty centuries of stony sleep

Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,

And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,

Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?

一准是某种启示已近在眼前;

一准是基督再临就在眼前。

基督再临!话未出口,

一个巨大的形象便出现在人们脑际

令我花了眼:在大漠沙海之中,

一个狮身人面的形体

目光如烈日般茫然而无情。

正缓慢地挪动腿脚,周围环绕着

—群义愤的沙漠鸟的影子。

黑暗再度降临;不过现在我知道

过去两千年岩石般的沉睡

都被摇篮摇成了噩梦般的烦恼,

何等粗野的畜牲,它的时辰巳至,

慵懒地朝伯利恒走去投生。【译者不详】

叶芝并不是在偶尔为之地发泄绝望怨气。这一年他还创作了另一首伟大诗歌,题目是《一九一九》(Nineteen Hundred and Nineteen),主旨是悲叹文明倾颓。以下节选的是本诗开头部分:

MANY ingenious lovely things are gone

That seemed sheer miracle to the multitude,

protected from the circle of the moon

That pitches common things about.There stood

Amid the ornamental bronze and stone

An ancient image made of olive wood --

And gone are Phidias' famous ivories

And all the golden grasshoppers and bees.

许多精巧可爱的事物都已消逝,

在世人眼里也曾巧夺天工

妥善珍藏,不受日夜周转的侵蚀,

哪怕凡俗之物早已被一扫而空;

且看那一片装饰用的青铜与大理石,

橄榄木质地的古代造像置身其中——

菲狄亚斯著名的象牙雕工,以及一切

金质蚱蜢与蜜蜂,如今都早已湮灭。

We too had many pretty toys when young:

A law indifferent to blame or praise,

To bribe or threat; habits that made old wrong

Melt down, as it were wax in the sun's rays;

Public opinion ripening for so long

We thought it would outlive all future days.

O what fine thought we had because we thought

That the worst rogues and rascals had died out.

年轻时我们也曾将精巧玩具掌握:

这套法律懒得区分赞美与责骂,

不吃贿赂与威胁;依照习惯将旧日过错

销熔,恰似烈日暴晒下的蜂蜡;

民意过了那么久才瓜熟蒂落,

我们还以为这套法律未来也永不会变化。

啊,我们的思想曾经多么天真烂漫,

满心以为最恶劣的恶棍都已完蛋。

All teeth were drawn, all ancient tricks unlearned,

And a great army but a showy thing;

What matter that no cannon had been turned

Into a ploughshare? Parliament and king

Thought that unless a little powder burned

The trumpeters might burst with trumpeting

And yet it lack all glory; and perchance

The guardsmen's drowsy chargers would not prance.

拔光满口牙齿,历代技艺全都忘掉,

千军万马徒有其表看似威武堂堂;

就算从未熔炼火炮将耕犁重新铸造

又如何?无论议会还是国王

都以为除非点燃一撮火药,

否则号兵恐怕会贸然吹响军号高昂

但却毫无光荣可言;还有可能

卫兵们的困倦战马并不会奋蹄奔腾。

Now days are dragon-ridden, the nightmare

Rides upon sleep: a drunken soldiery

Can leave the mother, murdered at her door,

To crawl in her own blood, and go scot-free;

The night can sweat with terror as before

We pieced our thoughts into philosophy,

And planned to bring the world under a rule,

Who are but weasels fighting in a hole.

如今的白昼恶龙遍布,夜晚的睡眠

被噩梦侵扰:一名士兵喝得酩酊大醉

之后,将一位母亲残杀在她家门前,

听任她在血泊里挣扎,事后竟能脱罪;

夜晚也会战战兢兢汗出如浆就像从前

我们将思绪直插进哲学问对,

筹划着要让全世界服从同一套尺度标准,

世人无非是鼬鼠,在逼仄地穴里撕咬凶狠。

He who can read the signs nor sink unmanned

Into the half-deceit of some intoxicant

From shallow wits; who knows no work can stand,

Whether health, wealth or peace of mind were spent

On master-work of intellect or hand,

No honour leave its mighty monument,

Has but one comfort left: all triumph would

But break upon his ghostly solitude.

他若能看懂征兆,不会无人陪同地下潜

沉入半掩的欺骗,源自浅薄头脑的醉人毒浆;

他若知道任何成就都无法历时久远,

无论智识或者手工的旷世杰作耗费了多少健康、

财富或者心灵安宁,终究都无法幸免;

他若知道恢弘的纪念碑上残存不下半点荣光,

那么他心里就只剩下一条慰籍:

一切凯旋都能打破他那幽灵般的孤寂。

But is there any comfort to be found?

Man is in love and loves what vanishes,

What more is there to say? That country round

None dared admit, if Such a thought were his,

Incendiary or bigot could be found

To burn that stump on the Acropolis,

Or break in bits the famous ivories

Or traffic in the grasshoppers or bees.

但是这世上可还能找到丝毫慰籍?

热恋当中的人热爱着消逝的事物,

还能说些什么?就算寻访全国各地,

也没人胆敢将心中念头吐露:

要想烧毁雅典卫城多么容易,

肯定不缺燃料,偏见就是引火之物;

谁不想将精工牙雕砸个稀烂?

谁不想将金质蚂蚱与蜜蜂踩成碎片?

当叶芝写下这些诗句时,列宁已经进驻了克里姆林宫,德皇治下的德国已经沦为了遍地焦土,青壮年人口损失惨重的英国充斥着罢工与鼎沸民怨,爱尔兰即将陷入苦涩的内战。一战扯掉了旧式政治秩序的堂皇画皮,促使许多人开始转向激进理念——例如法西斯主义——寻求答案。叶芝也在晚年受到了法西斯主义的吸引。但是在那之前,他的兴趣更偏向分析旧文化与新文化之间的鸿沟。他一边将自身与旧文化绑定在一起,一边设想着即将到来的究竟会是什么东西。

下面这首《内战时期的沉思》(Meditations in Time of Civil War)创作于1922年。当时叶芝过着避世隐居的生活,居住在戈尔韦的巴利李塔楼。在这首诗当中,叶芝把玩了许多描写英格兰乡间别墅的传统诗歌当中的常见意象:

SURELY among a rich man's flowering lawns,

Amid the rustle of his planted hills,

Life overflows without ambitious pains;

And rains down life until the basin spills,

And mounts more dizzy high the more it rains

As though to choose whatever shape it wills

And never stoop to a mechanical

Or servile shape, at others’ beck and call.

Mere dreams, mere dreams! Yet Homer had not Sung

Had he not found it certain beyond dreams

That out of life’s own self-delight had sprung

The abounding glittering jet; though now it seems

As if some marvellous empty sea-shell flung

Out of the obscure dark of the rich streams,

And not a fountain, were the symbol which

Shadows the inherited glory of the rich.

当然在专属富人家的百花草地,

在专属他家的山林沙沙风声婀娜,

与巨大痛苦无关的生命奔流洋溢,

倾盆洒下的生命将盆地化为泽国。

越是令人目眩的高山,山上雨水就越充裕,

似乎任何形态都由它自主选择:

从不会屈就机械或奴役的形骸,

从不会呼之即去召之即来。

梦想而已,梦想而已!但荷马本不会歌唱

如过他不曾发现在梦境之外

肯定有一道喷泉丰沛闪亮

源自生命的自娱;尽管现在

就好像奇妙的空贝壳突然亮相

被抛出幽暗失去了掩盖,

这幽暗不属于泉水,而属于溪流丰裕,

将富人的家传荣光遮蔽。【参考了袁可嘉的译文】

但是这首诗的主旨是挑战传统,而不是一味强化或者重复关于新教世家大族的权威特质的惯常假设:

What if the glory of escutcheoned doors,

And buildings that a haughtier age designed,

The pacing to and fro on polished floors

Amid great chambers and long galleries, lined

With famous portraits of our ancestors;

What if those things the greatest of mankind

Consider most to magnify, or to bless,

But take our greatness with our bitterness?

如果这些雕饰门扉的荣光,

那些出自更高傲时代的建筑,

长廊联通了宽敞的厅堂,

在长廊的光滑地板上漫步,

我们祖先的著名画像挂在两旁

如果我们当中最伟大的人物

认为这些事物最应发扬光大或祝福,

但是又将我们的伟大与痛苦一并夺去,该当何如?【参考了袁可嘉的译文】

不管怎么说,内战的粗鲁现实毕竟还是闯进了叶芝坚定捍卫的田园生活(战争期间巴利李塔楼附近的一座桥梁被炸塌,遭到堵塞的河水淹没了塔楼的一层)。

An affable Irregular,

A heavily-built Falstaffian man,

Comes cracking jokes of civil war

As though to die by gunshot were

The finest play under the sun.

A brown Lieutenant and his men,

Half dressed in national uniform,

Stand at my door, and I complain

Of the foul weather, hail and rain,

A pear-tree broken by the storm.

一个和善的非正规军,

胖胖的福尔斯塔夫人物,

走过来,讲着内战的笑话,

好像给枪弹打死

是太阳下最好玩的事。

黑棕色的中尉和兵士

半身穿着国军制服,

站在我门口,我抱怨

坏天气,雨和霰,

梨树根被风暴打断。【袁可嘉译】

叶芝乐天知命的笔调在下一章节变得越发黑暗起来。这一章名叫《我窗边的燕八哥巢》(The Stare's Nest by My Window),诗人思考了自己的世界走向末日时的景象:

The bees build in the crevices

Of loosening masonry, and there

The mother birds bring grubs and flies.

My wall is loosening; honey-bees,

Come build in the empty house of the state.

We are closed in, and the key is turned

On our uncertainty; somewhere

A man is killed, or a house burned,

Yet no cleat fact to be discerned:

Come build in he empty house of the stare.

A barricade of stone or of wood;

Some fourteen days of civil war;

Last night they trundled down the road

That dead young soldier in his blood:

Come build in the empty house of the stare.

We had fed the heart on fantasies,

The heart’s grown brutal from the fare;

More Substance in our enmities

Than in our love; O honey-bees,

Come build in the empty house of the stare.

蜂群在松散的墙垣空隙.

筑巢,那里母鸟们

弄来虫子和枝条。

我的墙松散了,蜜蜂们

来燕八哥的空屋筑巢吧。

我们给关在里面,

钥匙何时转,我们不知道,

什么地方人被杀,房被烧,

无清楚事实可以知晓,

来燕八哥的空屋筑巢吧。

一道石头或木头的路障,

十四天左右的内战,

昨夜他们推着车运来

一个青年士兵血迹斑斑;

来燕八哥的空屋筑巢吧。

我们的心为狂想哺养,

这种食粮使心残暴,

我们仇恨的质量

超过了我们的爱;蜜蜂啊,

来燕八哥的空屋筑巢吧。【袁可嘉译】

如此惨淡的景象必然将会引出最终结局:

I see Phantoms of Hatred and of the Heart’s

Fullness and of the Coming Emptiness

I climb to the tower-top and lean upon broken stone,

A mist that is like blown snow is sweeping over all...

我看见仇恨的幻影,内心

充实和未来空虚的幻影

我爬上塔顶,倚靠着破碎的石头,

一阵雾像灰暗的雪正横扫一切……【袁可嘉译】

内战不同于国战。仅就死亡人数以及死法的惨烈程度来说,爱尔兰内战远不能与1914-1918年期间的欧陆战争相提并论,但是这场战争也自有其刀刀见肉的野蛮之处,威廉.巴特勒.叶芝所知道的一切都遭到了内战的摇撼。笔者希望以上选取的诗文能够表明,叶芝的应对方式就是构建自己的新结构——本质上来说他为新时代构建了新神话。在这方面他并不孤单。二十世纪二三十年代英格兰与苏格兰诗坛的故事很大程度上讲的是如何创造一个全新的言辞世界,从而抵挡令人不安的全新现实。


2020-07-29 02:20:27
4540258 复 4540054
桥上
一种可怕的美已经诞生 1

历史上不乏类似的时刻


2020-07-30 00:21:24
2020-07-31 05:35:19
4540600 复 4344063
万年看客万年看客`28000`/bbsIMG/face/0000.gif`70`7`25632`186765`从五品上:朝请大夫|游骑将军`2008-09-25 10:28:43`
十四,现代主义者们有多么现代?1 1

诸多挺胸叠肚昂首阔步的学术名词虽说听上去十分高大上,但是如果趁这些名词上街遛弯时将它们拦在当场诘问一番,它们的表现则往往不尽如人意。现代主义就是这批名词当中的一员。但是这个词确实很有用,根基也很深。在一战前后,欧洲与美国都掀起了一阵针对传统艺术原则与习惯的反思。仅就英国而言,除了一战带来的大量死亡与伤残人员之外,我们还经历了爱尔兰内战以及大规模罢工与失业;自劳合.乔治往下,英国的整个政治阶层看上去全都腐败堕落老迈无能;针对传统婚姻观念的冲击以及女性争取恰当社会地位的运动更是将英国社会搅得动荡不宁。上述危机与难题的许多乃至全部侧面都通过这一时期的英国诗歌得到了体现。这一时期几乎每一位英国诗人最终都会亮明自己的政治站位——有些人选择了共产主义,有些人选择了法西斯主义,还有些人选择了民族主义。英国诗坛就此再一次改头换面。无论是从美国进口的埃兹拉.庞德与T.S.艾略特,还是人到老年越发成熟的叶芝,又或是苏格兰本土出品的休.麦克迪尔米德,他们在这一时期创作的诗篇看起来听上去都与从前的作品大相径庭。显然,此时的诗人已经不打算再向爱德华时代、维多利亚时代乃至浪漫主义时代寻求灵感了。

为什么会这样?这就又要提到现代主义这位滑不留手的顾客。现代主义具有许多面孔——它比此前的诗坛运动更加城市化,宗教与道德意味更弱,而且也更加困难。不过从本质上来说,现代主义试图回答以下问题:如果说时代已经改变得面目全非,如果说革命气息正在风中飘荡而且旧秩序已经摇摇欲坠,那么艺术难道不应该也经历一番激烈变革吗?新时代难道不应该搭配新诗歌吗?

说来容易做来难。显然,许多老式诗歌范式已经被穷尽了——这其中有些范式讲究雕琢,将诗句当成了精美的油画,画面上则是精心打理过后的田园风情;有些范式讲究音韵,抑扬顿挫宛如协奏曲一般繁复;有些范式讲究格律,一字一句严丝合缝,题材大抵是感怀恋爱不顺或者歌颂帝国军队。在年轻且愤怒的现代主义者眼中,这些无非都是装点虚饰。为了创作新时代的杰作,必须要以暴戾愤怒的姿态将浪漫的牧人、欢快的诗句以及道德高尚的桂冠诗人一扫而空打翻在地。例如埃兹拉.庞德就公然号召自己的追随者们“求新”。

可是麻烦之处在于,旧范式也包括了诸如节律与天然笔触在内的一整套创作技法,这些技法全都是历经千百年无数世代逐渐摸索改进之后的成果。总的来说,这些技法的确能够充分表达诗人的理念。如果真要另起炉灶另开张,接下来的新诗歌究竟要如何下笔呢?

求新——如何求新?拿什么求新?现代主义者们给出了一个极其吊诡的回答:往回求。你要一头扎进远比你所反动的故事与形式更加古老的时代。于是毕加索在巴黎开始绘制取材古典时代的漫画式沐浴裸女以及效仿安格尔的素描;卡西米尔.马列维奇在莫斯科将目光转向了最古老的俄罗斯造像,从它们那毫无修饰的几何造型当中寻求灵感;詹姆斯.乔伊斯在都柏林与巴黎改写了尤利西斯归乡的故事,将其作为自己的长篇小说的结构装置。在诗歌领域情况也是一样:埃兹拉.庞德将寻求全新写作手法的目光转向了法国吟游诗人、盎格鲁-萨克逊歌谣以及中国古典诗歌,叶芝大量采用了拜占庭与爱尔兰神话当中的意象;T.S.艾略特迷上了玄学派诗人、但丁以及早期基督教诗歌,由此向自己的新诗赋予了多种声音;休.麦克迪尔米德则打出了“不学彭斯学邓巴”的口号,转向了伟大的中世纪诗人,由此掀起了苏格兰的文学复兴。

总体来说,英国的现代主义诗人们成功实现了他们的第一个目标。他们的作品的确将因袭传统惯于读诗的中产阶级读者们搅扰得心神不宁。二十世纪二十年代的英国报刊杂志上到处都是针对现代主义开刀的笑话、漫画以及气冲冲的社论,讽刺这些画家与诗人们“不说人话”并且只会媚外。正如我们将会在下文当中见到的那样,这一轮现代主义革命后续乏力,尤其是在诗歌领域。到了二十年代的末尾,针对现代主义革命的反弹已经显而易见了。但是这场革命起初的确活力四射,留下的作品甚至直到今天也依然值得一读。

在英国,现代主义具有两大主要方面,其一是性,其二是欧洲。西格蒙德.弗洛伊德的理论在当时大为盛行,认为性冲动比道德更深刻的理念也吸引了越来越多的拥趸,这两种理念成为了当时一大部分文学作品的基础——尤其是D.H.劳伦斯的作品。此外,在一战前夕以及战后不久的时期,英国文化久违地敞开了接受欧洲影响的大门。弗吉尼亚.伍尔芙、凡妮莎.贝尔以及布鲁姆斯伯里团体都将寻求引领的目光投向了巴黎,投向了格特鲁德.斯坦、毕加索、马蒂斯以及斯特拉文斯基等人。詹姆斯.乔伊斯发现只有巴黎的出版社才愿意出版自己的作品。罗杰.弗莱在伦敦举办的欧陆后印象派绘画展彻底改变了新一代英国画家的创作方式。庞德的朋友、雕塑家亨利.戈蒂耶-布尔泽斯卡死在战场上,致使庞德对战争大为恐惧。庞德与邪魅四射的温德姆.路易斯共同开创的漩涡主义更是受到了意大利画家菲利波.马里奈缔的影响。

因此在考察英国现代主义时最合适的入手点之一就是米娜.洛伊。她于1882年生于伦敦,母亲是英格兰人,父亲是匈牙利犹太人。不到二十岁时她来到慕尼黑并且吸收了大量欧洲新思想——例如弗洛伊德与尼采——然后回到英国学习绘画。就像前文当中讨论过的许多诗人一样,她也首先是个画家,其次才是作家。1903年她搬到巴黎居住,后来又搬到了佛罗伦萨。她的社交圈子包括格特鲁德.斯坦、纪尧姆.阿波利奈尔以及毕加索,未来主义流派的领导人菲利波.马里奈缔还曾与她谈过恋爱。战争期间她一边担任护士一边出版诗歌与女权主义宣言。1916年之后她在曼哈顿与欧洲之间频繁往来,永远置身于激进派现代主义小圈子的正中心。读者们甚至可以辩称洛伊根本不是英国人。但是问题的部分关键正在于此。在战后时期,“国际文化”在欧洲各国首都——包括伦敦在内——组成的网络里四下传播,成为了当时的主流。如果你想研究国际文化,那么最好不过研究米娜.洛伊。就连T.S.艾略特都很仰慕她。看看下面这首《人体气缸》(Human Cylinders)就能理解为什么:

The human cylinders

Revolving in the enervating dusk

That wraps each closer in the mystery

Of singularity

Among the litter of a sunless afternoon

Having eaten without tasting

Talked without communion

And at least two of us

Loved a very little

Without seeking

To know if our two miseries

In the lucid rush-together of automatons

Could form one opulent wellbeing

人体气缸

在令人萎靡的暮色中运转

在奇点的神秘当中将彼此围绕得

愈发紧密

在没有阳光的午后的废弃物当中

吞咽而不品尝

交谈而不交流

至少我们两个

爱得很少

从未试图

去了解我们的两项神秘是否

在自动机器显然的聚首当中

能够形成一项丰腴的福祉

Simplifications of men

In the enervating dusk

Your indistinctness

Serves me the core of the kernel of you

When in the frenzied reaching out of intellect to intellect

Leaning brow to brow communicative

Over the abyss of the potential

Concordance of respiration

Shames

Absence of corresponding between the verbal sensory

And reciprocity

Of conception

And expression

Where each extrudes beyond the tangible

One thin pale trail of speculation

From among us we have sent out

Into the enervating dusk

One little whining beast

Whose longing

Is to slink back to antediluvian burrow

And one elastic tentacle of intuition

To quiver among the stars

简单化的人

在令人萎靡的暮色中

你的泯然众人

之于我却是你这籽粒的核心

当智力狂热地探求其他智力

当眉毛轻挑用眉毛交流

越过呼吸的潜在谐和

的无底深渊

耻辱

缺少了相互响应,在词语感觉

与概念

以及表达

的互惠之间

每一次超越可触及之物的挤压

一道纤细苍白的猜测痕迹

从我们当中我们向着

令人萎靡的暮色送出

一只哭泣的小兽

它的渴望

就是钻回史前的地穴

一根直觉的弹性触手

在群星间颤动

The impartiality of the absolute

Routs the polemic

Or which of us

Would not

Receiving the holy-ghost

Catch it and caging

Lose it

Or in the problematic

Destroy the Universe

With a solution

绝对的不偏不倚

击溃了辩论法

或者我们当中的哪一个

不愿意

接受圣灵

抓住它关起来

丢掉它

或者在问题当中

用一条解决之道

毁灭宇宙

说一千道一万,谁都不能说这首诗写得不新。这正是埃兹拉.庞德希望看到的诗歌。但是这首诗并未取得完全成功——诗句中的多音节单词还是太多且太突兀,无韵诗体例用在这里显得松松垮垮而并非紧绷且无可避免。在《休.塞尔温.莫伯利》(Hugh Selwyn Mauberley)一诗中,庞德正面回答了如何创作新诗的问题:

For three years out of key with his time,

He strove to resuscitate the dead art

Of poetry; to maintain "The sublime"*

In the old sense. Wrong from the start--

三年来此人一贯与时令不合,

努力要复兴死去的诗歌艺术;

从而维持旧时代含义当中的

“崇高”。一开始就走错了路——*1

*1【“崇高”(The sublime)在此似特指希腊哲学家卡修斯.隆基努斯或德国哲学家康德的理论,认为文学作品应在内容与形式上达到雄伟的境界。】

No hardly, but, seeing he had been born

In a half-savage country, out of date;

Bent resolutely on wringing lilies from the acorn;

Capaneus; trout for factitious bait;

这也难免,鉴于他出生的家乡

野蛮粗鄙,落后于时代太多;*2

他铁了心要从橡子里挤榨出百合芬芳,

恰似卡帕纽斯;用虚假诱饵将鳟鱼捕捉。*3

*2【庞德生于美国中西部的爱达荷州。】

*3【卡帕纽斯是希腊神话人物,在埃斯库罗斯的名剧《七将攻忒拜》里,他发誓非要攻进忒拜城中,即使是宙斯也不能阻止,结果被宙斯用雷劈死。“虚假诱饵”即橡胶拟饵。用拟饵钓鳟鱼是当时美国流行的休闲活动。】

庞德转向经典拉丁文、法文与中文著作寻求创作灵感。他采用了罗伯特.勃朗宁开创的戏剧化独白手法,试图创作新鲜、纯粹并且能够自行站住脚的作品。以下诗文节选自《致敬赛克斯图斯.普罗佩提乌斯》(Homage to Sextus Propertius),庞德在这首诗中将美国气质与古卷霉味饶有趣味地混合在了一起:

There will be a crowd of young women doing homage to my palaver.

Though my house is not propped up by Taenarian columns

From Laconia (associated with Neptune and Cerberus),

Though it is not stretched upon gilded beams;

My orchards do not lie level and wide

as the forests of Ph?cia,

the luxurious and Ionian,

Nor are my caverns stuffed stiff with a Marcian vintage—

(my cellar does not date from Numa Pompilius,

Nor bristle with wine jars):

Nor is it equipped with a frigidaire patent;

Yet the companions of the Muses

will keep their collective nose in my books,

And, weary with historical data, they will turn to my dance tune.

Happy who are mentioned in my pamphlets;

the songs shall be a fine tomb-stone over their beauty.

将会有一群年轻女性面对我的满纸废话表达敬意

尽管支撑寒舍的并非来自台那伦的立柱,

并非来自拉科尼亚(与尼普顿以及刻耳柏洛斯有关),

尽管寒舍并非倚仗着镀金的梁柱,

我的果园也并不算平整宽敞

不能与费阿刻斯岛上的森林

或者草木繁茂的爱奥尼亚相比,

我的地下室里并未塞满马尔西安皇帝的佳酿——

(我的酒窖追溯不到努马.庞皮留斯的时代

也并未堆满酒罐。)

屋里也没有安置北极牌电器;

但是缪斯女神们陪伴着我

与我一起手不释卷。

厌倦了历史文献,她们将会转向我的舞曲曲调。

我这小册子里提到的人们都会快乐

其中的歌曲将为她们的美丽树立精美的墓碑。

话说回来,将庞德这样一位土生土长的美国人放在这里真的合适吗?虽说他也是盎撒血统,但是对于英国诗歌传统却并不算特别热情。他在巴黎旅居了很长时间,然后又决定为墨索里尼治下的意大利摇旗呐喊。二战结束后他在精神病院里呆了十三年,重获自由之后又跑到威尼斯宅居起来。但是尽管如此,他依然是英国诗歌史不可分割的一部分。他最早在诗歌领域崭露头角就是在伦敦,他毕生的事业则是彻底改造英语诗歌。更进一步来说,他背负的深切创伤——正是这一创伤刺激得他越发痴狂地痛恨金融体系与犹太人并且最终倒向了反犹法西斯主义——正是源自一战以及“老头子的谎言”:

These fought in any case,

and some believing,

pro domo, in any case . . .

Some quick to arm,

some for adventure,

some from fear of weakness,

some from fear of censure,

some for love of slaughter, in imagination,

learning later . . .

some in fear, learning love of slaughter;

那些在任何情况下都会作战的人们

以及一部分在任何情况下都

相信为集体献身的人们……

有些人急于拿起武器,

有些人急于冒险,

有些人害怕软弱,

有些人怕被戳戳点点,

有些人在想象中热爱杀戮,

后来才发现……

有些人因为害怕,学会将杀戮依恋

Died some, pro patria,

non "dulce" non "et decor" . . .

walked eye-deep in hell

believing in old men's lies, then unbelieving

came home, home to a lie,

home to many deceits,

home to old lies and new infamy;

usury age-old and age-thick

and liars in public places.

有些人为了祖国而死,

既不“甜美”也不“合宜”……

睁着两眼走进地狱

相信了老头子的谎言,然后丧失信念

回到家中,回到谎言之家,

众多欺骗之家,

旧谎言与新耻辱之家;

如同岁月一样古老浓厚的篡权

以及公开场合的骗子。

Daring as never before, wastage as never before.

Young blood and high blood,

fair cheeks, and fine bodies;

fortitude as never before

frankness as never before,

disillusions as never told in the old days,

hysterias, trench confessions,

laughter out of dead bellies.

从未有过的胆敢,从未有过的空耗

年轻的鲜血与高涨的鲜血

红润的脸颊,健美的肢体;

从未有过的坚毅

从未有过的坦率,

旧日无人讲述过的幻灭,

歇斯底里,战壕里的忏悔,

死尸腹中发出的笑声。

同样的愤怒与绝望驱使着休.麦克迪尔米德投入了列宁与斯大林的怀抱,并且让二十年代的诗坛充满了歇斯底里的气息。庞德耗费毕生心力的巨著《诗章》(The Cantos)虽说遭到了他的恶毒反犹主义以及总体来说颠三倒四的政治理念的玷污,但是依然充满了美好的事物。下面这段诗文节选自诗章第十三篇,主题是孔子与合宜的社会秩序。诗句行文清晰,丝毫不见狂气,而且至少在笔者听来清新爽快,十分现代。

Kung walked

by the dynastic temple

and into the cedar grove,

and then out by the lower river,

And with him Khieu Tchi

and Tian the low speaking

And "we are unknown," said Kung,

"You will take up charioteering?

"Then you will become known,

"Or perhaps I should take up charioterring, or archery?

"Or the practice of public speaking?"

And Tseu-lou said, "I would put the defences in order,"

And Khieu said, "If I were lord of a province

"I would put it in better order than this is."

And Tchi said, "I would prefer a small mountain temple,

"With order in the observances,

with a suitable performance of the ritual,"

And Tian said, with his hand on the strings of his lute

The low sounds continuing

after his hand left the strings,

And the sound went up like smoke, under the leaves,

And he looked after the sound:

"The old swimming hole,

"And the boys flopping off the planks,

"Or sitting in the underbrush playing mandolins."

And Kung smiled upon all of them equally.

And Thseng-sie desired to know:

"Which had answered correctly?"

And Kung said, "They have all answered correctly,

"That is to say, each in his nature."

孔子漫步

走过太庙

步入柏树林

来到河水下游,

他的身边有冉求,公西赤,

曾点与子路。

“我们不为人知,”孔子说,

“你可会学习御术?

然后你们就将为人所知,

又或者我应当学习御术,或射术?

或者演讲术?”

子路说,“我将整顿国防,”

冉求说,“我若做一省的官长,

我将使人民生活得更加富足。”

公西赤说:“我愿投身小山上的庙宇,

穿戴礼服与礼帽,

恰当地履行仪式傧相的职责。”

曾点发言时,手不离琴弦,

当他将琴放下时

低音还在继续,

乐声宛如烟雾,在树叶下缭绕,

他的视线投向乐声消散之处:

“在那熟悉的戏水池塘边上,

孩子们从岸边跳进水中,

或者在树丛里弹琵琶。”

孔子对他们全都报以微笑。

曾皙想要知道:

“谁的答案正确?”

孔子说:“他们的回答全都正确,

每人的答案都符合本性。”


2020-07-31 05:35:19
2020-08-04 04:19:20
4541852 复 4344063
万年看客万年看客`28000`/bbsIMG/face/0000.gif`70`7`25632`186765`从五品上:朝请大夫|游骑将军`2008-09-25 10:28:43`
现代主义者们有多么现代?2 1

认为庞德至少在技巧上比自己更胜一筹的T.S.艾略特也是美国移民,不过他选择了一条截然不同的人生道路。他在英格兰扎根下来,最终变得比大多数英国人更像英国人。随着庞德转向法西斯主义,骨子里同样反犹的艾略特则转向了英国国教会与伟大的英国诗歌传统来寻求救赎。这位曾经的银行家后来成为了一名专门创作宗教剧本的体面人,但是他在早期创作的现代主义作品在问世时却令人惊骇不已,至今依然能让初次接触的读者们感到大惑不解。《普鲁弗洛克的情歌》(The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock)发表于1915年,兴许是理解早期英国现代主义的最关键文本。艾略特凭借这首诗立刻确立了不容错认的个人风格,一方面采用了娓娓道来的口吻,同时又尽显古典气质。在诗文当中,他笔下的反英雄——没用或者不必存在的人是现代主义世界观的主粮——在显然属于爱德华时代的伦敦城里漫无目的地闲逛着:

Let us go then, you and I,

When the evening is spread out against the sky

Like a patient etherized upon a table;

Let us go, through certain half-deserted streets,

The muttering retreats

Of restless nights in one-night cheap hotels

And sawdust restaurants with oyster-shells:

Streets that follow like a tedious argument

Of insidious intent

To lead you to an overwhelming question ...

Oh, do not ask, “What is it?”

Let us go and make our visit.

In the room the women come and go

Talking of Michelangelo.

The yellow fog that rubs its back upon the window-panes,

The yellow smoke that rubs its muzzle on the window-panes,

Licked its tongue into the corners of the evening,

Lingered upon the pools that stand in drains,

Let fall upon its back the soot that falls from chimneys,

Slipped by the terrace, made a sudden leap,

And seeing that it was a soft October night,

Curled once about the house, and fell asleep.

And indeed there will be time

For the yellow smoke that slides along the street,

Rubbing its back upon the window-panes;

There will be time, there will be time

To prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet;

There will be time to murder and create,

And time for all the works and days of hands

That lift and drop a question on your plate;

Time for you and time for me,

And time yet for a hundred indecisions,

And for a hundred visions and revisions,

Before the taking of a toast and tea.

In the room the women come and go

Talking of Michelangelo.

And indeed there will be time

To wonder, “Do I dare?” and, “Do I dare?”

Time to turn back and descend the stair,

With a bald spot in the middle of my hair —

(They will say: “How his hair is growing thin!”)

My morning coat, my collar mounting firmly to the chin,

My necktie rich and modest, but asserted by a simple pin —

(They will say: “But how his arms and legs are thin!”)

Do I dare

Disturb the universe?

In a minute there is time

For decisions and revisions which a minute will reverse.

那我们走吧,你和我,

当夜晚在天空铺开,

像病人被麻醉在手术台;

让我们走,穿过几近荒废的街道,

不安的夜晚的嘟囔退到了

只会歇一晚的便宜旅馆

和满地锯末与蚌壳的饭馆:

街道尾随像一场冗长的争论,

带着阴险的企图

把你带向一个无法回避的问题……

啊,别问,“那是什么?”

让我们走,先去做客。

客厅里女士们来回地踱步,

谈论着米开朗基罗。

黄色的雾在玻璃上擦它的背,

黄色的烟在玻璃上擦它的嘴,

舌头舔进夜晚的角落,

徘徊在快要干涸的水坑;

听任烟筒上的烟灰跌落在背上,

它溜下台阶,纵身一跃,

看到这是一个温柔的十月之夜,

便在房子周围蜷缩起来呼呼入睡。

确实啊,总会有时间,

让黄雾沿着街道滑行,

在玻璃窗上擦它的背;

总会有时间,总会有时间

准备一幅面孔去见你要见的脸;

总会有时间去暗杀去创造,

去从事无数双手的工作和时日,

从茶盘上拿起又放下一个问题;

总会有时间给你,有时间给我

总会有时间一百次地迟疑犹豫,

总会有时间一百次地幻象再幻变,

在吃茶和烤面包之前。

客厅里女士们来回地踱步,

谈论着米开朗基罗。

确实,总会有时间

去怀疑,“我敢吗?”“我可有勇气?”

总会有时间转身下楼,

顶着一块秃顶——

(她们会说:“他的头发变得多么稀少!”)

我早晨的外套,我的硬领笔挺,

我的领带华丽而端庄,被一只朴素的别针定住——

(她们会说:“但他的胳膊腿可太细了!”)

我可有勇气

搅乱这个宇宙?

一分钟内总还有时间

决定、变卦,一分钟内再转变修改。【普华译】

《普鲁弗洛克的情歌》是一首特别困难的诗歌,彰显了艾略特的变化多端与格律技艺。正是这两样本领让他在日后成为了一名杰出的儿歌作家——《擅长装扮的老猫经》就是这其中传世不朽的杰作之一。但是《普》在刚刚问世时却掀起了轩然大波,因为这首诗读起来实在……太不一样了。接下来艾略特又推出了一系列佳作,格律严丝合缝,题材骇人听闻。但是他笔下的最重量级作品——之所以1922年对于现代主义发展史来说是一个如此重要的年份,部分原因就在于这首诗的问世——就是《荒原》(The Waste Land)。这部煌煌巨作就像当年华兹华斯与柯勒律治的《抒情歌谣集》一样,再一次彻底变革了英国诗坛的面貌。在绘画领域,毕加索、布拉克与库尔特.施威特斯很早以前就开始使用拼贴画技法——既将剪报、撕碎的广告纸以及各种各样的商业产品粘贴在画面上,为自己的画作蒙上一层粗粝的表面。艾略特的诗歌也采用了同样的创作手法,将他人对话当中传出的只言片语、突然中断的独白以及显然充满古代智慧的瘆人叠句强硬压缩在了一起。诗歌的主题是西方文化的死寂干涸以及寻找前进新路的求索——后面这条直到全诗结尾才试探性地提出来,而且基督教气息很重。诗句听上去似乎无甚趣味,但是诗人的措辞花团锦簇,他对于英语诗歌的历史理解得十分透彻,他还具有非凡的格律才华,能让读者着魔一般地不忍释卷。以下诗文节选自全诗第一节“死者的葬礼”。当时在伦敦金融城为劳埃德银行工作的艾略特在这段诗文当中直面了当代伦敦的日常景象:

Unreal City,

Under the brown fog of a winter dawn,

A crowd flowed over London Bridge, so many,

I had not thought death had undone so many.

Sighs, short and infrequent, were exhaled,

And each man fixed his eyes before his feet.

Flowed up the hill and down King William Street,

To where Saint Mary Woolnoth kept the hours

With a dead sound on the final stroke of nine.

There I saw one I knew, and stopped him, crying “Stetson!

You who were with me in the ships at Mylae!

That corpse you planted last year in your garden,

Has it begun to sprout? Will it bloom this year?

Or has the sudden frost disturbed its bed?

Oh keep the Dog far hence, that’s friend to men,

Or with his nails he’ll dig it up again!

You! hypocrite lecteur!—mon semblable,—mon frère!”

不真实的城,

在冬天早晨棕黄色的雾下,

一群人流过伦敦桥,呵,这么多

我没有想到死亡毁灭了这么多。

叹息,隔一会短短地嘘出来,

每个人的目光都盯着自己的脚。

流上小山,流下威廉王大街,

直到圣玛丽.乌尔诺教堂,在那里

大钟正沉沉桥着九点的最后一响。

那儿我遇到一个熟人,喊住他道:

“史太森!你记得我们在麦来船上!

去年你种在你的花园里的尸首,

它发芽了吗?今年能开花吗?

还是突然霜冻搅乱了它的花床?

哦,千万把狗撵开,那是人类之友,

不然他会用爪子又把它掘出来!

你呀,伪善的读者- -一我的同类,我的兄弟!”【查良铮译】

《荒原》一诗不通读不足以领略其真正风采,可惜本书篇幅所限不能照搬全文。笔者接下来摘取的选段来自第二节《一局棋戏》,艾略特在其中让一大堆看似八竿子打不着的题材相撞在了一起,包括没有实体的警告叠句、日常对话的碎片、爵士音乐、一名等待丈夫退伍回家的工人阶级妻子的凄苦境遇,以及一家即将关门倒闭的酒馆。

“My nerves are bad to-night. Yes, bad. Stay with me.

Speak to me. Why do you never speak? Speak.

What are you thinking of? What thinking? What?

I never know what you are thinking. Think.”

I think we are in rats’ alley

Where the dead men lost their bones.

“What is that noise?”

The wind under the door.

“What is that noise now? What is the wind doing?”

Nothing again nothing.

“Do

You know nothing? Do you see nothing? Do you remember

Nothing?”

I remember

Those are pearls that were his eyes.

“Are you alive, or not? Is there nothing in your head?”

But

O O O O that Shakespeherian Rag—

It’s so elegant

So intelligent

“What shall I do now? What shall I do?

I shall rush out as I am, and walk the street

With my hair down, so. What shall we do to-morrow?

What shall we ever do?”

The hot water at ten.

And if it rains, a closed car at four.

And we shall play a game of chess,

Pressing lidless eyes and waiting for a knock upon the door.

When Lil’s husband got demobbed, I said,

I didn’t mince my words, I said to her myself,

HURRY UP PLEASE ITS TIME

Now Albert’s coming back, make yourself a bit smart.

He’ll want to know what you done with that money he gave you

To get yourself some teeth. He did, I was there.

You have them all out, Lil, and get a nice set,

He said, I swear, I can’t bear to look at you.

And no more can’t I, I said, and think of poor Albert,

He’s been in the army four years, he wants a good time,

And if you don’t give it him, there’s others will, I said.

Oh is there, she said. Something o’ that, I said.

Then I’ll know who to thank, she said, and give me a straight look.

HURRY UP PLEASE ITS TIME

“我今晚情绪不好。呵,很坏。陪着我。

跟我说话吧。怎么不说呢?说呵。

你在想什么?什么呀?我 从不知你想着什么。想。”

我想我们是在耗子洞里,

死人在这里丢了骨头。

“那是什么声音?”

是门洞下的风。

“那又是什么声音?风在干什么?”

虚空,还是虚空。

“你

什么也不知道?什么也没看见?什么

也不记得?”

我记得

那些明珠曾经是他的眼睛。

“你是活是死?你的头脑里什么也没有?”

可是

呵呵呵呵那莎士比希亚小调——

这么文雅

这么聪明

“如今我做什么好?我做什么好?”

“我要这样冲出去,在大街上走,

披着头发,就这样。我们明天干什么?

我们究竟干什么?”

十点钟要热水。

若是下雨,四点钟要带篷的车。

我们将下一盘棋,

揉了难合的眼,等着叩门的一声。

丽尔的男人退伍的时候,我说——

我可是直截了当,我自己对她说的,

快走吧,到时候了

艾伯特要回来了,你得打扮一下。

他要问你他留下的那笔镶牙的钱

是怎么用的。他给时,我也在场。

把牙都拔掉吧,丽尔,换一副好的。

他说,看你那样子真叫人受不了。

连我也受不了,我说,你替艾伯特想想,

他当兵四年啦,他得找点乐趣,

如果你不给他,还有别人呢,我说。

呵,是吗,她说。差不多吧,我说。

那我知道该谢谁啦,她说,直看着我。

快走吧,到时候了【查良铮译】

这段诗文可谓是近乎取得了完全成功的现代主义诗歌,威胁与绝望潜藏在字里行间,反映了被过去十年剧烈震撼的英国的面貌;诗中人的口吻听上去与1922年的伦敦市民一般无二,市民们的日常关切也得到了详尽呈现;此外鉴于此时掌权的劳合.乔治首相贪污腐败,与诈骗犯以及涉嫌杀人犯毛迪.格里高利沆瀣一气售卖贵族头衔,诗文当中的阴险气息也很符合时代精神。尽管艾略特的心可能还在故乡波士顿,但是他对于当时英国的理解却比任何本土英国人更加深刻到位。作为对比,来自这首非凡诗歌的最后一段摘录是全诗第四节《水里的死亡》。笔者在上文中指出,为了寻找更强健的文脉,现代主义者们将视线投向了极其遥远的过去。以下诗文就是绝好的例子,遥遥呼应了莎士比亚的《暴风雨》。

Phlebas the Phoenician, a fortnight dead,

Forgot the cry of gulls, and the deep seas swell

And the profit and loss.

A current under sea

Picked his bones in whispers. As he rose and fell

He passed the stages of his age and youth

Entering the whirlpool.

Gentile or Jew

O you who turn the wheel and look to windward,

Consider Phlebas, who was once handsome and tall as you.

扶里巴斯,那腓尼基人,死了两星期,

他忘了海鸥的啼唤,深渊里的巨浪,

利润和损失。

海底的--股洋流

低语着啄他的骨头。就在一起一落时光

他经历了苍老和青春的阶段

而进入旋涡。

犹太或非犹太人呵.

你们转动轮盘和观望风向的,

想想他,也曾象你们一样漂亮而高大。【查良铮译】

下文当中我们还会再次与艾略特打交道。他的诗文如此强大且富有感染力,以至于二十世纪二三十年代的英国诗选当中充斥着才气不足的诗人们东施效颦的仿作。现代主义意味着与无数传统的决裂,做到这一点需要非凡的勇气。为了创新,每一位现代主义者都必须独辟蹊径。世上最乏味的东西就是亦步亦趋的文学革命。


2020-08-04 04:19:20
2020-08-04 05:08:17
4541863 复 4344063
万年看客万年看客`28000`/bbsIMG/face/0000.gif`70`7`25632`186765`从五品上:朝请大夫|游骑将军`2008-09-25 10:28:43`
现代主义者们有多么现代?3 1

休.麦克迪尔米德肯定理解这一点。他是工人阶级出身,父亲是邮递员。休.麦克迪尔米德这个名字是他的笔名或者说化名,他的原名是克里斯托弗.莫里.格里夫,生在苏格兰与英格兰的边界附近。他也在一战战场上走过一遭,亲眼见证了苏格兰与爱尔兰裔士兵与公学出身的英格兰军官之间的紧张关系。后来的格里夫成为了一名记者与论辩家,坚信苏格兰必须要从大英帝国当中脱离出去并且从根本上采取社会主义制度。他那臭名昭著的共产主义信仰致使苏民党将他扫地出门,他那臭名昭著的苏格兰民族主义又致使英共也将他扫地出门。他承诺自己永远都会是“各种极端的交汇点”,这个承诺他的确恪守了一生。

T.S.艾略特将早期基督教诗歌当成了自己的现代主义作品的基础,庞德选择的基础则是中文、普罗旺斯语以及盎撒文学。麦克迪尔米德则决心要砸烂文学英语,利用他在旧字典里刨出来的冷僻苏格兰语取而代之。他认为现已失落的古老苏格兰方言单词蕴含着不同的思考方式与世界观,而他则要将这两者重现在现代苏格兰读者面前。就像许多极端现代主义理念一样,他的主张看上去也毫无胜算——甚至近乎疯狂——但是在大多数时间里麦克迪尔米德都是一副赢家的姿态。他肯定创作了自从罗伯特.彭斯之后最出色的苏格兰诗歌,而且他还掀起了一场运动,激励许多苏格兰诗人追随他的榜样并且创作出了各具特色的作品。于是苏格兰自从十五世纪以来再一次成为了英国诗歌的中心。以下是麦克迪尔米德的早期诗作《彩虹》(The Watergaw)。原诗以苏格兰方言写成,若是翻译成标准英语必然韵律全失。

Ae weet forenicht i’ the yow-trummle

I saw yon antrin thing,

A watergaw wi’ its chitterin’ licht

Ayont the on-ding;

An’ I thocht o’ the last wild look ye gied

Afore ye deed!

潮湿的午后,冰凉的天气,

我看见了奇异的你,

彩虹带着颤抖的光线

升起在暴风雨之巅。

你临终狂野的眼神

又回到我的记忆。

There was nae reek i’ the laverock’s hoose

That nicht—an’ nane i’ mine;

But I hae thocht o’ that foolish licht

Ever sin’ syne;

An’ I think that mebbe at last I ken

What your look meant then.

那夜天空万里无云

我家也同样漆黑;

但是我从此总是记起

那愚蠢的光线;

我以为自己终于明白

你眼神的意义。【张剑译】

麦克迪尔米德还创作了许多水准与这首诗不相上下的优秀短诗。就好比叶芝在十九世纪九十年代试图复兴爱尔兰文学一样,麦克迪尔米德也试图以自己的方式复兴苏格兰文学并且取得了远超叶芝的成功。身为保守派英国天主教信徒的T.S.艾略特虽然在几乎一切政治议题上都与麦克迪尔米德针锋相对,但他确实看懂了麦克迪尔米德的文学主张并且很推崇对方的作品。多亏艾略特从中相助,麦克迪尔米德的早期长诗《醉汉看蓟草》(A Drunk Man Looks at the Thistle)才在1926年得以顺利发表。本诗的主人公是一位醉醺醺的业余哲学家,诗歌内容则是此人针对苏格兰的现状的思考。他先是在酒馆里发表了一番高论,然后又担心回家之后老婆会说什么。麦克迪尔米德对于苏格兰文化的看法就像几年前艾略特对于英格兰文化的看法一样惨淡,他的心境则与叶芝在同一时期对于新近独立的爱尔兰的感受一样五味杂陈。他笔下的醉汉扯东扯西,从哲学聊到尖刻的政治讽刺,然后又转向了自我憎恨,骇人的主张后面紧跟着搞笑的桥段。以下诗文节选自全诗开头,向读者们介绍了这位精疲力尽的发言人。他的朋友们正在怂恿他大口灌下威士忌,而他的手肘、肩膀与咽喉已经应付不了如此狂饮了。话又说回来,当时他喝得大概并不是正宗威士忌——就好像被人们称作苏格兰的国家并不是正宗苏格兰一样:

I amna' fou' sae muckle as tired — deid dune.

It's gey and hard wark' coupin' gless for gless

Wi' Cruivie and Gilsanquhar and the like,

And I'm no' juist as bauld as aince I wes.

我醉,但我更累——我精疲力竭。

与克鲁维和吉森卡尔之流饮酒,

一杯又一杯,真乃快活又难受。

我不仅仅是比以前更加胆大如斗。

The elbuck fankles in the coorse o' time,

The sheckle's no' sae souple, and the thrapple

Grows deef and dour: nae langer up and doun

Gleg as a squirrel speils the Adam's apple.

在此过程中,胳膊肘变得僵硬,

手腕也不灵活,气管变得沙哑

而僵直。喉结也不能动弹,不会

像松鼠一般灵活地上下攀爬。

Forbye, the stuffie's no' the real Mackay.

The sun's sel' aince, as sune as ye began it,

Riz in your vera saul: but what keeks in

Noo is in truth the vilest " saxpenny planet. "

另外,那玩艺也不是真正的麦凯酒,

你沾上它的初始,太阳本身

仍在你灵魂中升起:但是后来

在那里闪耀的却是一颗最廉价的星辰。

And as the worth's gane doun the cost has risen.

Yin canna thow the cockles o' yin's hert

Wi'oot ha'en' cauld feet noo, jalousin' what

The wife'll say (I dinna blame her fur't).

虽然价值降低,但价格却在上涨。

现在你如要将内心深处加热,

你必须保持双脚冰凉,去揣测

妻子的想法(我并不是在将她数落)。

It's robbin' Peter to pey Paul at least. . . .

And a' that's Scotch aboot it is the name,

Like a' thing else ca'd Scottish nooadays

— A' destitute o' speerit juist the same.

这至少是拆了东墙去补西墙……

酒的苏格兰精神仅仅存于其名,

就像其他被称为苏格兰货的东西,

同样完全丧失了它的灵魂。【张剑译,有修改】

麦克迪尔米德与许多其他现代主义者相比的不同之处在于他不止一次、而是两次改造了诗歌创作的语言。约翰.戴维森将科学知识应用于诗歌的做法对于麦克迪尔米德影响很大,此外他本人毕生都充满热情地关注着二十世纪科学开辟的崭新视角。因此他用来写诗的语言也逐渐从苏格兰方言转换成了英语科学术语。这些诗歌在大多数读者眼里乍一看简直一窍不通,但是读起来却朗朗上口——而且只要将其中的术语全都替换成日常白话,诗句的意义自然显而易见。就像上文中的苏格兰与诗歌一样,这些科学术语诗歌同样不可能以任何其他方式写作出来——读者不熟悉的单词本身就是暗藏意义的密码。以下诗文节选自《在涨潮的海滩上》(On a Raised Beach),是麦克迪尔米德在二十世纪三十年代的代表作,彰显了诗人坚忍叛逆的气质。当时他身无分文,居住在远离本土的设得兰群岛,而且军情五处还在监视他的一举一动,因为在当局看来他是个危险的激进分子。

All is lithogenesis—or lochia,

Carpolite fruit of the forbidden tree,

Stones blacker than any in the Caaba,

Cream-coloured caen-stone, chatoyant pieces,

Celadon and corbeau, bistre and beige,

Glaucous, hoar, enfouldered, cyathiform,

Making mere faculae of the sun and moon,

I study you glout and gloss, but have

No cadrans to adjust you with, and turn again

From optik to haptik and like a blind man run

My fingers over you, arris by arris, burr by burr,

Slickensides, truité, rugas, foveoles,

Bringing my aesthesis in vain to bear,

An angle-titch to all your corrugations and coigns,

Hatched foraminous cavo-rilievo of the world,

Deictic, fiducial stones. Chiliad by chiliad

What bricole piled you here, stupendous cairn?

What artist poses the Earth écorché thus,

Pillar of creation engouled in me?

What eburnation augments you with men’s bones,

Every energumen an Endymion yet?

All the other stones are in this haecceity it seems,

But where is the Christophanic rock that moved?

What Cabirian song from this catasta comes?

一切都是成岩作用——或者是产后出血,

禁忌之树的化石化果实,

石头比天房里的一切更黑。

奶油色的卡昂石灰岩,猫眼石的碎片。

青瓷和乌鸦,黄褐与米色。

海绿,灰白,周身闪电,如同杯状。

使日月都沦为光斑。

我研究你的蹙眉与神色,但是

没有表盘来调整你,并再次

从视觉转向触觉,像盲人一样

用我的手指丈量你的身体,每一道棱角,每一根毛刺。

擦痕,开片,皱褶,凹坑,

让我的美学徒劳无功,

为你的所有槽纹与凸角提供一点角度,

孵化的开孔的世界的陷浮雕,

指示,基准石。一千又一千

是什么杂物把你堆在这里,堆成巨大的石冢?

是哪位艺术家摆布了剥皮露骨的地球,

让创世之柱从我口中穿出?

是什么象牙化利用男人的骨头壮大了你,

每一位被附身的人是否都成了恩底弥翁?

其他的石头似乎都在这独一性当中。

但是,那块基督再现时移开的巨石在哪里?

从处刑台上传来的虫鸣歌声是什么?

这段诗文简直有点存心刁难读者的意思。但是如果大声朗读出来却又会有不一样的感受。接下来的两句承接诗文看上去简直就像是道歉:

Deep conviction or preference can seldom

Find direct terms in which to express itself.

深深的信念或喜好很少能够

找到直接的词汇来表达自己。

在人生的日后阶段里,麦克迪尔米德确实会采用直白措辞创作一目了然、近乎宣传品的诗歌来反映苏格兰的状况、法西斯主义的崛起以及其他各种社会现象。他发现现代主义并不足以应对身边的一切状况,因为三十年代的世界看上去正变得越发黑暗且危险。我们将会在下文中看到,这么想的人绝不只有他一个。


2020-08-04 05:08:17
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