午後時光
日子。心情。人和事
（圖片來自網絡）
赫塔拉人的墳墓
她們躺在自己的長發裏， 棕黃色的臉龐
早已經退縮到了身體的深處
眼睛緊閉 好像是在很遠的地方
頭骨 嘴 花，嘴巴裏麵
牙齒閃閃發亮 如一排排袖珍棋子
還是花，黃色的珍珠，細小的手骨
手掌和衣物，腐朽的織物覆蓋在
幹癟的心髒上麵。但是在那裏
那些戒指的下麵 在那些護身符 寶石
眼睛一般的藍寶石 （曾經是戀人的信物）
下麵 沉寂的性之穴依然存留
被花瓣填滿 直至它的拱頂
又是黃色的珍珠 沒有穿起的 散落在那裏
燒製的陶土容器 上麵曾經畫有
她們自己的肖像， 綠色的碎片 曾經是
她們的香水瓶 帶著鮮花的芬芳
還有家庭神龕上的家神：
妓院 - 天堂，陶醉中的神靈們
斷裂的腰帶 雕刻於玉石之上的瘢痕結節
長著巨大生殖器的小人雕像
大笑的嘴 跳舞的女孩 跑步的人，
金色的扣子 看上去像隻小小的弓
可以用來射鳥的 - 還有獸形護身符，布滿裝飾的刀具和匙子，長針
一個圓圓的淺紅色鍋蓋，上麵有一個馬隊 馬腿僵直 就像是
墓穴入口處上方的黑暗銘文
還是鮮花， 珍珠顆顆滾落開來
鍍金小琴的閃亮側翼
在如同霧氣一般落下的麵紗之間，
仿佛從鞋的蛹裏爬出來的：
浮於腳踝之上的 精致的蒼白的蝴蝶
她們就那樣躺在那裏 被東西填滿
昂貴的東西 珠寶 玩具 器皿
破碎的飾品（有多少東西掉進了它們裏麵！）
她們逐漸黯淡發烏 如同黑色的河床
因為她們就是那曾經的河床啊
覆在她們之上，在短暫而又急促的波流裏
（每一個都試圖延長著自己的時間，直至永遠）
數不清的青年人的軀體湧現
他們的體內有成年男人的潮動在咆哮
有的時候 男孩們會從童年的山巒中衝出，
在小心翼翼的溪流中深入 於河床上摸索 玩耍
直到那一刻 陡峭的山坡把他們的意識緊緊抓住：
然後，他們用清淺的水流 把寬闊的運河
填滿，從這頭到那頭，細小的漩渦
盤旋而下 直至水的深處
第一次 映照出綠色的河岸 和遙遠的鳥鳴--而在天上，
是另一樣的星空，一個更甜蜜的領域
在他們的頭頂綻放，永遠不再關閉
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Hetaerae
In ancient Greek society, prostitutes were independent and sometimes influential women who were required to wear distinctive dresses and had to pay taxes. There is evidence that, unlike most other women in Greek society at the time, hetaerae were educated. Some similarities have been found between the ancient Greek Hetaera and the Japanese Geisha, complex figures that are perhaps in an intermediate position between prostitution and courtesans.
(http://www.hellenicaworld.com/Greece/Ancient/en/Hetaera.html)
Hetaira (Wikipedia)
Hetaira /h??ta?r?/ (plural hetairai (/h??ta?ra?/), also hetaera /h??t?r?/ (plural hetaerae /h??t?ri?/), (Ancient Greek: ?τα?ρα, "companion", pl. ?τα?ραι, Latin: hetaera, pl. hetaerae) was a type of prostitute in ancient Greece, who served as an artist, entertainer and talker aside from providing sexual service. Unlike the rule for ancient Greek women, hetairas would be highly educated and were allowed in the symposium.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
TOMBS OF THE HETAERAE
They lie in their long hair, and the brown faces
have long ago withdrawn into themselves.
Eyes shut, as though before too great a distance.
Skeletons, mouths, flowers. Inside the mouths,
the shiny teeth like rows of pocket chessmen.
And flowers, yellow pearls, slender bones,
hands and tunics, woven cloth decaying
over the shriveled heart. But there, beneath
those rings, beneath the talismans and gems
and precious stones like blue eyes (lovers’ keepsakes),
there still remains the silent crypt of sex,
filled to its vaulted roof with flower-petals.
And yellow pearls again, unstrung and scattered,
vessels of fired clay on which their own
portraits once were painted, the green fragments
of perfume jars that smelled like flowers, and images
of little household gods upon their altars:
courtesan-heavens with enraptured gods.
Broken waistbands, scarabs carved in jade,
small statues with enormous genitals,
a laughing mouth, dancing-girls, runners,
golden clasps that look like tiny bows
for shooting bird- and beast-shaped amulets,
ornamented knives and spoons, long needles,
a roundish light-red potsherd upon which
the stiff legs of a team of horses stand
like the dark inscription above an entryway.
And flowers again, pearls that have rolled apart,
the shining flanks of a little gilded lyre;
and in between the veils that fall like mist,
as though it had crept out from the shoe’s chrysalis:
the delicate pale butterfly of the ankle.
And so they lie, filled to the brim with Things,
expensive Things, jewels, toys, utensils,
broken trinkets (how much fell into them!)
and they darken as a river’s bottom darkens.
For they were riverbeds once,
and over them in brief, impetuous waves
(each wanting to prolong itself, forever)
the bodies of countless adolescents surged;
and in them roared the currents of grown men.
And sometimes boys would burst forth from the mountains
of childhood, would descend in timid streams
and play with what they found on the river’s bottom,
until the steep slope gripped their consciousness:
Then they filled, with clear, shallow water,
the whole breadth of this broad canal, and set
little whirlpools turning in the depths,
and for the first time mirrored the green banks
and distant calls of birds—, while in the sky
the starry nights of another, sweeter country
blossomed above them and would never close.
(Translated by Stephen Mitchell)
周末愉快！
哇，這首確實不容易翻啊。圖片找得和詩詞倒是蠻相配的。