跳舞的但丁
致吉安娜-乔尔美蒂
Ⅰ
当他跳着那初遇贝雅特丽丝的舞，
他是一个青年，身体还没有真正的语言，
他的心一点也不懂得是什么
萌生了。爱像是久旱之后夏日的雨，
像红尾巴鹰的一声清唳，像个天使
将牙齿咬进我们的喉咙。他只有
初学者的舞步来表现内在的光辉。
男孩但丁以绝对之爱初次看到她
只有我们彼此茫然无知时才有可能。
双手蒙住脸，他跑开了。时光流逝。
Ⅱ
下一曲舞关于他们的重逢。围绕她
舞步翩翩。贝雅特丽丝一头长发
浓密幽黑。她黑晶的眼在看。
他的跳跃是个男人的跳跃。舞步
也是一个熟谙舞蹈的男人的动作。
一个知晓身体贪欲的男人。她深藏在
她身体的心中。 他真出色。她心神若失
被姑姑领走。自那之后，她的家庭
很小心。她坐着一辆马车经过。他
踮起脚尖，挥舞手臂，他的眼那么绝望。
然后她在宫殿里楼上的一个窗边。
他在月光中绝美地舞出他的悲伤
在下面空无一人的广场，专注。她
把窗帘微微拉向一边，他好快乐。
那是一个我们都知道的梦，完美的爱
它不真实。他的身后是个喷泉。
Ⅲ
那是几年后了，他们终于
在他简单的房间里。他之后的舞
是欢乐、感恩和挚爱的宣言。
她的舞蹈很奇怪，穿上衣服。
一个微妙的告别。她的灵魂现在
从那种爱里脱身。他一动不动站着，困惑，
看着她离去。然后惊人地舞出他的悲痛。
Ⅳ
我们看到但丁是个老人。他是个舞者
只能设法走出开始简单的几步。
他跳失去的罗曼斯，从不曾是的爱情，
和因为做梦而失去的伟大的爱。
第一位，击足跳，和最小的一步跳跃。
激情的安静。更静的和最强烈的。
那幸福的，不完美的心的特殊忧伤
最终完全明白如何跳舞。却不跳了。
Dante Dancing
For Gianna Gelmetti
Ⅰ
When he dances of meeting Beatrice that first time,
he is a youth, his body has no real language,
and his heart understands nothing of what has
started. Love like a summer rain after drought,
like the thin cry of a red-tailed hawk, like an angel
sinking its teeth into our throat. He has only
beginner steps to tell of the sheen inside him.
The boy Dante sees her first with the absolute love
possible only when we are ignorant of each other.
Arm across his face, he runs off. Years go by.
Ⅱ
The next dance is about their meeting again. He does
an enchainement around her. Beatrice’s heavy hair is
dark and long. She watches with the occhi dolci.
His jumps are a man’s jumps. His steps have become
The moves of a dancer who understand the dance.
A man who recognizes the body’s greed. She is deep
In her body’s heart. He is splendid. She is lost
And is led away by the aunt. Her family is careful
After that. She goes by in a carriage. He rises
On his toes, port de bras, his eyes desperate.
Then she is at an upstairs window of the palace.
He dances his sadness brilliantly in the moonlight
below on the empty piazza, concentrating. She moves
the curtain a little to the side, and he is happy.
It is a dream we all know, the perfection of love
That is not real. There is a fountain behind him.
Ⅲ
It is a few years later and they are finally
in his simple room. His long dance of afterward
is a declaration of joy and of gratitude and devotion.
She dances strangely, putting on her clothes.
A delicate goodbye. Her soul is free now from that
Kind of love. He stands motionless, bewildered,
Watching her go. Then dances his grief wonderfully.
Ⅳ
We see Dante as an old man. He is a dancer who can
manage only the simple steps of the beginning.
He dances the romance lost, the love that never was,
And the great love missed because of dreaming.
First position, entrechat, and the smallest jumps.
The passionate quite. The quieter and strongest.
The special sorrow of a happy, imperfect heart
That finally knows well how to dance. But does not.
罪恶
那男人看上去确实像有罪。
丑陋，褴褛，还不干净。更不要说
他们在树林里发现他
和她的尸体一起。邻居们讲述
他总是和死松鼠，肢残的狗，
甚至蛇玩。他说
只有它们会允许他
接近。“看着我，”
那老人毫无抱怨直白地说
“我已经是死亡中的
一个死人，很难忍受看
生命被死亡那样地羞辱。
路上抹成一堆的负鼠，被蚂蚁
吃掉眼睛的鸟，甚至是临死的老鼠
也需要给自己的不体面一些隐私。
是我洗去了她脸上的污垢
和身上的血迹。给她梳理了头发。
我睡在她身边，在她脚旁整整两天，
就像我的狗以前那样。我尽量把衣服
穿得齐整。她看上去孤凄无足轻重，
像扔到野草中的垃圾，
似乎无人关心，因为他
对她干了那事。我不停地想现在
她还有多久可以独自呆着。我知道
警察会拍照片然后把它们
放到报纸上，赤裸公开，这样
吃着早饭的人们就可以看着她。我想要
给她的灵魂足够的时间来做好准备。”
Guilty
The man certainly looked guilty.
Ugly, ragged, and not clean. Not to mention
their finding him there in the woods
with her body. Neighbors told how he was
always playing with dead squirrels,
mangled dogs, even snakes. He said
those were the only things that would
allow him to get close. “Look at me,”
the old man said with uncomplaining
simplicity, “I’m already one of the dead
among the dead. It’s hard to watch things
humiliated the way death does it.
Possums smeared on the road, birds with ants
eating out their eyes, Even dying rats
want privacy for their disgrace.
It’s true I washed the dirt form her face
and the blood off the body. Combed her hair.
I slept beside her, at her feet for two days,
the way my dog used to. I got the dress
on the best I could. She looked so neglected,
Like garbage thrown in the weeds,
Like nobody cared because he had done that
to her. I kept thinking about how long
she is going to be alone now. I knew
the police would take pictures and put them
in the papers naked and opened so people
eating breakfast could look at her. I wanted
to give her spirit enough time to get ready.”
南方
在那些沿河的小城里
漫长的日子一天天并无新事发生。
夏日一周周似乎永恒停滞，
而漫长的婚姻也是如此。
生活中只有急事，出生，
或寻钓刺激。然后一只船
驶出迷雾。或许有个清晨
小心地绕过转角
在雨中，驶过松林和灌木，
一个芬芳的夜晚到来。
辉煌地，明光幻彩。两天后
它走了，留下醒觉的怒火。
South
In the small towns along the river
nothing happens day after long day.
Summer weeks stalled forever,
and long marriages always the same.
Lives with only emergencies, births,
and fishing for excitement. Then a ship
comes out of the mist. Or comes around
the bend carefully one morning
in the rain, past the pines and shrubs.
Arrives on a hot fragrant night,
grandly, all lit up. Gone two days
later, leaving fury in its wake.
看看下来会不会有什么出现
山谷的上方什么也没有。
天空和清晨，安静
和遍地石头上艳阳的干燥气味。
偶然出现的山羊，白亮酷热中公鸡的声音。
在那里他同死去的女人和纯净同住。
想看看下来会不会有什么出现。
怀疑自己是不是已熄火。
或许，他想，就像能剧，每当脚本
说跳舞，演员下面的任何行为
都是一个舞蹈。如果他静立，他在跳舞。
To See If Something Comes Next
There is nothing here at the top of the valley.
Sky and morning, silence and the dry smell
of heavy sunlight on the stone everywhere.
Goats occasionally, and the sound of roosters
in the bright heat where he lives with the dead
woman and purity. Trying to see if something
comes next. Wondering whether he has stalled.
Maybe, he thinks, it is like the Noh: whenever
the script says dances, whatever the actor does next
is a dance. If he stands still, he is dancing.
雪中思量
青春过去后有一段时间
那之后还有时间，他穿过
冬日的树林时高兴地这样想，
寂静中听远处一只啄木鸟。
想起他的一个中国朋友
她的哥哥在她十八岁时
送给她一块汉代的玉环。
两周后，当她急急忙忙
走上香港一座桥时，跌倒了，
那千年的玉环碎在混凝土上。
当她告诉哥哥，沮丧着
泪流满脸，他说,
“别哭，我会给你找个更好的。”
Scheming in the Snow by Jack Gilbert
There is a time after what comes after
being young, and a time after that, he thinks
happily as he walks through the winter woods,
hearing in silence a woodpecker far off.
Remembering his Chinese friend
whose brother gave her a jade ring from
the Han Dynasty when she turned eighteen.
Two weeks later, when she was hurrying up
the steps of a Hong Kong bridge, she fell,
and the thousand-year-old ring shattered
on the concrete. When she told him, stunned
and tears running down her face, he said,
"Don't cry. I'll get you something better."
喀耳刻的掠夺
喀耳刻对猪没兴致。
不管是猪，狼，还是爱奉承的
狮子。她用我们的语言唱歌
而且，很美，等待货真价实的。
每个月他们都从岬湾
挣扎着前来。
壮丽的大海之光在他们身后。
每一次都可能是一个世界。
一季又一季。
一餐复一餐。
可总是在欲望的第一道
评测中变成他们自己。
奥德赛？一个出名的骗子。
一个度假地宝贝。碰不得。
The Plundering of Circe
Circe has no pleasure in pigs.
Pigs, wolves, nor fawning
lions. She sang in our language
and, beautiful, waited for quality.
Every month they came
struggling up from the cove.
The great sea light behind them.
Each time maybe a world.
Season after season.
Dinner after dinner.
And always at the first measures
of lust became themselves.
Odysseus? A known liar.
A resort darling. Untouchable.
