《榆樹》 by 普拉斯

榆樹  /普拉斯  林木 譯

給露絲·費恩萊特

 

我知道底部，她說。我用巨大的主根探知：

這就是你害怕的。

我不怕它：我去過那裏。

 

你在我身上聽到的可是海，

它的不滿？

還是空無的聲音，那是你的瘋狂？

 

愛是一抹陰影。

你如此為它躺倒哭泣。

聽：這是它的蹄聲：它離去了，像一匹馬。

 

整夜我將如此奔馳，狂烈地，

直到你的頭跑成石，你的枕頭變成小草地，

回響，回響。

 

或者我該帶給你毒藥的響聲？

現在下雨了，這沉寂。

而這是它的果實：錫白，如砷。

 

我經受落日的暴行。

灼燒到根部

我紅燈絲燃燒並站立，一團鐵絲。

 

現在我分解成飛舞的碎片，如棍棒。

如此暴烈的風

不容旁觀；我必須尖叫。

 

月亮也無情：她那不孕之身

殘忍地拖曳著我。

她的強光灼傷我。或許是我抓住她。

 

我讓她走。我讓她走。

虛弱且平躺，像經曆了大手術。

你的惡夢如何占據並賦予我。

 

一聲哭喊棲居於我身上。

每晚它鼓翼而出

用它的鉤子尋找愛的歸宿。

 

我被這黑暗的東西嚇壞了

它在我體內安睡。

整天我感覺到它的輕柔，如羽翻動，它的惡意。

 

雲朵掠過並消散。

那些是愛的麵龐嗎，蒼白無法挽回？

為了這些我就亂了心緒嗎？

 

我無法知曉更多。

這是什麽，這張臉

在樹枝的扼殺中如此凶狠？--

 

它如蛇的酸液嘶嘶作響。

它石化了意誌。這些孤立的，緩慢的裂痕

會殺人，會殺人，會殺人。

 

Elm

By Sylvia Plath

For Ruth Fainlight

 

I know the bottom, she says. I know it with my great tap root:   

It is what you fear.

I do not fear it: I have been there.

 

Is it the sea you hear in me,   

Its dissatisfactions?

Or the voice of nothing, that was your madness?

 

Love is a shadow.

How you lie and cry after it

Listen: these are its hooves: it has gone off, like a horse.

 

All night I shall gallop thus, impetuously,

Till your head is a stone, your pillow a little turf,   

Echoing, echoing.

 

Or shall I bring you the sound of poisons?   

This is rain now, this big hush.

And this is the fruit of it: tin-white, like arsenic.

 

I have suffered the atrocity of sunsets.   

Scorched to the root

My red filaments burn and stand, a hand of wires.

 

Now I break up in pieces that fly about like clubs.   

A wind of such violence

Will tolerate no bystanding: I must shriek.

 

The moon, also, is merciless: she would drag me   

Cruelly, being barren.

Her radiance scathes me. Or perhaps I have caught her.

 

I let her go. I let her go

Diminished and flat, as after radical surgery.   

How your bad dreams possess and endow me.

 

I am inhabited by a cry.   

Nightly it flaps out

Looking, with its hooks, for something to love.

 

I am terrified by this dark thing   

That sleeps in me;

All day I feel its soft, feathery turnings, its malignity.

 

Clouds pass and disperse.

Are those the faces of love, those pale irretrievables?   

Is it for such I agitate my heart?

 

I am incapable of more knowledge.   

What is this, this face

So murderous in its strangle of branches?——

 

Its snaky acids hiss.

It petrifies the will. These are the isolate, slow faults   

That kill, that kill, that kill.

 

[海邊紅樹]

平安是福。