《葉子》 by K·勒古恩

《葉子》 林木譯

烏蘇拉·K·勒古恩

 

歲月對身份做奇怪的事。

到底是什麽意思

說那張1935年攝於基沙米什的

照片裏的孩子是我？

不如說我是那片

七十年前倒下的金合歡樹

葉子的影子

在孩子閱讀的書頁上移動。

不如說我是她讀過的字

或是我在別的年代寫下的字，

光影閃爍，

當風穿過樹葉。

 

Leaves

By Ursula K. Le Guin

 

Years do odd things to identity.

What does it mean to say

I am that child in the photograph

at Kishamish in 1935?

Might as well say I am the shadow

of a leaf of the acacia tree

felled seventy years ago

moving on the page the child reads.

Might as well say I am the words she read

or the words I wrote in other years,

flicker of shade and sunlight

as the wind moves through the leaves.

[海邊紅樹]

欣賞了，平安是福。