普拉斯(Sylvia Plath)詩選5首(中譯) (圖)

普拉斯（1932-1963），出版的詩集有《冬天的船》（1960）、《巨人的石像及其他》
（1960）和《愛麗爾》（1965）。

There is a film "Sylvia" about her.



Born to middle class parents in Jamaica Plain, Massachusetts, Sylvia Plath published her first poem when she was eight. Sensitive, intelligent, compelled toward perfection in everything she attempted, she was, on the surface, a model daughter, popular in school, earning straight A's, winning the best prizes. By the time she entered Smith College on a scholarship in 1950 she already had an impressive list of publications, and while at Smith she wrote over four hundred poems.
Sylvia's surface perfection was however underlain by grave personal discontinuities, some of which doubtless had their origin in the death of her father (he was a college professor and an expert on bees) when she was eight. During the summer following her junior year at Smith, having returned from a stay in New York City where she had been a student ``guest editor'' at Mademoiselle Magazine, Sylvia nearly succeeded in killing herself by swallowing sleeping pills. She later described this experience in an autobiographical novel, The Bell Jar, published in 1963. After a period of recovery involving electroshock and psychotherapy Sylvia resumed her pursuit of academic and literary success, graduating from Smith summa cum laude in 1955 and winning a Fulbright scholarship to study at Cambridge, England.

In 1956 she married the English poet Ted Hughes , and in 1960, when she was 28, her first book, The Colossus, was published in England. The poems in this book---formally precise, well wrought---show clearly the dedication with which Sylvia had served her apprenticeship; yet they give only glimpses of what was to come in the poems she would begin writing early in 1961. She and Ted Hughes settled for a while in an English country village in Devon, but less than two years after the birth of their first child the marriage broke apart.

The winter of 1962-63, one of the coldest in centuries, found Sylvia living in a small London flat, now with two children, ill with flu and low on money. The hardness of her life seemed to increase her need to write, and she often worked between four and eight in the morning, before the children woke, sometimes finishing a poem a day. In these last poems it is as if some deeper, powerful self has grabbed control; death is given a cruel physical allure and psychic pain becomes almost tactile.

On February 11, 1963, Sylvia Plath killed herself with cooking gas at the age of 30. Two years later Ariel, a collection of some of her last poems, was published; this was followed by Crossing the Water and Winter Trees in 1971, and, in 1981, The Collected Poems appeared, edited by Ted Hughes.
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邊緣

這個女人盡善盡美了，
她的死

屍體帶著圓滿的微笑，
一種希□式的悲劇結局

在她長裙的褶縫上幻現
她赤裸的

雙腳像是在訴說
我們來自遠方，現在到站了，

每一個死去的孩子都蜷縮著，像一窩白蛇
各自有一個小小的

早已空蕩蕩的牛奶罐
它把他們

摟進懷抱，就像玫瑰花
合上花瓣，在花園裏

僵冷，死之光
從甜美、縱深的喉管裏溢出芬芳。

月亮已無哀可悲，
從她的骨縫射出凝睇。

它已習慣於這種事情。
黑色長裙緩緩拖拽，悉悉作響。

趙瓊、島子 譯

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榆樹

我知道底部，她說。我用巨大的主根探知：
這正是你所畏懼的。
但我並不怕：我曾到過那裏。

你從我身上聽到的可是海聲，
它的不滿？
或者是空無的聲音，那是你的瘋狂？

愛是一抹陰影。
你在它的背後躺臥呼喊。
聽：這是蹄音：它遠離了，像一匹馬。

整個晚上我將如是奔馳，狂烈地，
直把你的頭跑成石塊，你的枕成一方小小的賽馬場，
回響，回響。

或者要我帶給你毒藥的響聲？
下雨了，這碩大的寂靜。
而這是它的果實：錫白，如砷。

我飽嚐落日的暴行。
焦灼直達根部
我紅色的燈絲燒斷而仍堅持著，一團鐵絲。

現在我分解成碎片，棍棒般四處飛散。
如此猛烈的狂風
絕不能忍受他人的旁觀；我得嘶喊。

月亮也同樣的無情：總是殘酷地
拖曳著我，我已不能生育。
她的強光刺傷了我。或許是我絆住了她。

我放她走。我放她走。
萎縮而扁平，像經曆了劇烈的手術。
你的惡夢如是地攫取占有我。

哭喊在我身上定居。
每晚鼓翼而出
用它的釣鉤，去尋找值得愛的事物。

我被這黑暗的東西嚇壞了
它就躺在我的體內。
我整天都能感覺到它輕柔如羽的翻動，它的憎惡。

雲朵飄散而過。
那些是愛的麵龐嗎，那些蒼白、不可複得的？
我就是因為這些而亂了心緒嗎？

我無法進一步知曉。
這是什麽，這張臉
如是凶殘地扼殺枝幹？--

它蛇陰的酸液嘶嘶作響。
麻木了意誌。這些是隔離，徐緩的過失
足可置人於死，死，死。

張芬齡 譯
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對手

如果月亮笑了，她會象你。
你同樣留下美好事物的
記憶，但是已漸漸淹滅。
你倆都是光的偉大借用者。
她圓潤的嘴哀悼著世界；你卻無動於衷

你曠世的天資是用石塊創造萬物。

我蘇醒於一所陵墓；你在這裏，
石桌上的手指咯咯作響，尋找著煙卷，
象居心叵測的女人，但沒有那種神經質，
你臨終時說出一些不可思議之詞。

月亮也在屈辱著她的臣民

白晝裏它則荒誕不經
而你的不滿，在另一層次
穿越郵件的縫隙和如期的愛一起抵達
白的和黑的，如一氧化碳般珍貴。
來自你的音訊，無一日平安無事
也許漫步於非洲，然而卻惦念著我。
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霧中羊

山嶺邁入白色之中，
人和星辰
傷心地望著我，我令他們失望。

火車留下一趟呼出的氣，
哦，慢騰騰的
馬，鏽色，

馬蹄，悲哀的鈴聲────
早晨越來越暗，
整整一早晨，

一朵花已經離去，
我的骨頭抓住一片兒寂靜，遠處的
田野溶化了我的心，

他們威脅我，
要我穿過，去一片沒有
星辰，沒有父親的天空，一泓黑水，

彭予 譯

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七月裏的罌粟花
　
小小的罌粟花，小小的地獄之火，
你不傷人？

你閃爍不定，我不能碰你，
我把雙手伸進火中，什麽也沒燃燒，

瞧著你那樣閃爍我感到
綿綿無力，多皺，鮮紅，就像人的嘴唇，

剛剛流過血的嘴唇。
血淋淋的小裙子！

有些煙味我不能聞，
你的鴉片和你令人作嘔的容器在何處？

但願我能流血，或者入睡！────
但願我的嘴唇能嫁給那樣的創傷！
或者你的汁液滲向我，在這玻璃容器裏，
使人遲鈍，平靜，

可它是無色的，無色的，

彭予譯