侏儒之歌

我的靈魂本身可能是筆直的完好的

可是我的心 我佝僂的血管

還有所有的那些深深傷害著我內心的 變形

我的靈魂在這一切下屈服

沒有花園 沒有陽光

它在我扭曲的骨架上懸掛

驚恐地拍打著翅膀

我的手也毫無是處， 你看

它們是多麽的萎縮和奇形怪狀

笨拙地抽搐著，潮膩，臃腫

像是雨後的蟾蜍

而我身上其他的東西 也都破敗不堪

悲哀的 飽經風霜的 破損的

為什麽造物主會猶豫將這一切丟棄 

衝進下水道？

是不是因為他看到那張臉而憤怒

我的那張陰沉抑鬱的嘴臉？

我的靈魂常常翹首以待 奢望著

自上而下的 清晰和輕盈

可是有誰會這麽近地貼靠過來呢

除了那些大狗們

而狗身上沒有我所需要的

～～～～～～～～～～～～～～～～～

THE DWARF’S SONG

My soul itself may be straight and good;

ah, but my heart, my bent-over blood,

all the distortions that hurt me inside—

it buckles under these things.

It has no garden, it has no sun,

it hangs on my twisted skeleton

and, terrified, flaps its wings.

Nor are my hands of much use. Look here:

see how shrunken and shapeless they are:

clumsily hopping, clammy and fat,

like toads after the rain.

And everything else about me is torn,

sad and weather-beaten and worn;

why did God ever hesitate

to flush it all down the drain?

Is it because he’s angry at me

for my face with its moping lips?

It was so often ready to be

light and clear in its depths;

but nothing came so close to it

as big dogs did.

And dogs don’t have what I need.

(The Selected Poetry of Rainer Maria Rilke, Edited and Translated by Stephen MitchellFROM  The Book of Pictures (1902 ;1906))