凶年之畔（節選）
枕邊襲來被犁翻開的新土，波浪
沉船，已經鬆弛下來的沉船
完整而安詳
它和所擁有的全體死難者一道
自海面平靜地升起
我觸及了他們的腳跟。
徒步行走的人
來不及赴死的人，步履匆匆
在我的身邊圍攏
污點般的太陽，不露痕跡
把我的雙眼打開
最後的悲慘景象
海向自己的最深處下沉。
那種被自己淹沒的可能
將自己徹底地、消滅到現實中去
沉船，在返航的途中
經受歷史上種種傳說的考驗
我站起身來，對話沒有結束
水，自由地、從我的身上退走。
我說了：我的雙手是兩隻錨
投向天空的最深處。
滿嘴別人的被打落的牙齒
想吐出來
死難者的呼喊，無辜的
人質的立場位於室內
來歷不明的食品右側
他們的意義
與我體內奔走的血有關。
在岸上思考，坐著不動
把寬闊的桌子埋在胸前
在易燃的木制掩體後面
我不能夠、成為這間屋子裏
冷藏的人質。
他們會走進屋來
歷史的轉折關頭
有人不過也就剛站起身
抹掉自己滿臉的
別人的牙齒，或者青色的齒痕
一個句子，誠實的、木匠的鋸子，蠻橫
正跟傑出的短跑家、光頭的殺手
作長時間的交談
沒有誰表示願意向時間投降。
船上羞怯的鐘錶，秘密地
在作最後的衝刺。
我看到，不詳盡的那部分
是含有鮮血的那部分
靜脈的藍色，海洋的藍色
我們的、不再反抗的手
今天在鋒利的山巒後面移動
太古老了，那又一分鐘裏的落日。
留下誰的指痕、平靜的海面
痛楚，仍使我們的身子
夠不到的船隊
迷航，岸也扭動，岸上潔白的書籍
和有目的的、行走著的人
竟並不感到被顛覆的危險、熱情。
回憶的片段就只是
肉體的片段，每一滴血
都在蘇醒過來
牆上的那一片，濺到牆上的那一片
潔白使我們沉默
永不升起的魚群在水底，在黑暗中
可以看到我的嘴唇、人類的鹽。
THE EDGE OF DREADFUL TIMES
(Excerpts)
Freshly plowed earth steals up to my pillow
Then waves and a sunken boat, a boat of loosened frame
Intact and unperturbed
With all the dead belonging to it still aboard
Rises from the ocean's surface
To touch the heel of my foot.
Men who travel on foot
Who are late for their execution, with hurried steps
Converge at my side
The blot of sun in the sky, concealing its role
Forces my eyes to open
On the final terrible scene
As the sea sinks into its own depths
Those self-engulfing possibilities
Utterly destroy them into reality
The sunken boat, on its return voyage
Endures trials much told about in history
I stand erect before the dialogue concludes
With water freely draining off my body
Then I said: my hands are a pair of anchors
I will cast them into the depths of the sky
Mouth full of other people's bashed-out teeth
Wishing I could spit them out
Cries of disaster victims
Blameless hostages take a position in a room
On the right side of food from an uninspected factory
The meaning of all of these
Connects with the blood coursing in my veins
Pondering on the banks, sitting immobile
I eclipse the broad desk before my chest
Here behind a flammable wooden wall
In this room, I cannot let myself be
A hostage in a cold-storage locker
They might walk into this room
At a pivotal juncture of history
While some are just getting to their feet
And wiping their faces clean
Of other people's teeth or blue teeth-marks.
A well-meant saying, a curlique of shavings
Willfulness is holding a drawn-out conversation
With a champion sprinter and a shaven-headed killer
No one is about to surrender to the clock.
On the boat a clock that dares not show its face
Is coming into the home stretch
I observe the part that is incomplete
Is the part suffused with living blood
Blueness of veins, blueness of ocean
Our no-longer resisting hands
Now move behind razor-like peaks
So very ancient---this minute's setting sun
Leaving someone's finger traces, the powerful ocean surface
A convoy that pain prevents our bodies from reaching
Lost voyage past a twisted coastline
White book paper on the shore
People with places to go are walking
Not sensing the danger and passion of chaos encroaching
Fragments of memory are just fragments of flesh
Each drop of blood is coming awake
Even the purity on the wall
Even the purity spattered on the wall
Makes us keep silent
A school of fish that will never rise, under the water in darkness
Is able to see my lips, the salt of mankind.
(Tr. by Denis Mair) |
