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英译白玛的诗5首  

2015-12-17 01:19:52|  分类: Trans行 |  标签: |举报 |字号 订阅

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白玛的诗5首

[按]我很喜欢白玛的诗,这些是我2009年5月初的译文,贴在国内无法打开的英语博客上,转过来。

 

   海妖

       白玛 (1972-)

我爬墙,飞跑,约会海妖

我目中无人,把友情抛下,去约会海妖

 

她的蜡制的蜂鸟的嘴,模仿花椰菜的笑

风暴中心的甜蜜气息。她令我陶醉,这颗少年心!

 

即使绿袍子的厨娘的管束

即使镇长家长虎牙的次女

 

(我小喘,停下,对大海说点什么

对大海说点什么?说说沉沦、妄想、我的她?)

 

细碎的话语和脚步,听呵

无法偷窥的海上私情,听呵

 

如果潮水温柔地退下,光阴不值一个钱

如果该沉睡的渔人他醒了,他惊觉这一切

 

我的海妖,用猩红的嘴儿唱无词之歌

她走过拦海大堤,比午夜的水鸟更冷静

 

  Siren

    by Baima tr. Fan Jinghua

I climb over walls, and run like winds, to date a siren;

Eyes on top of my head, I turn my back to friends, to date asiren.

 

Her wax beak of a hummingbird mimics the smile of broccoli.

The honey breath at the eye of a storm. She mesmerizes me, this heart of a teen spirit!

 

In spite of the discipline of the green-robed housekeeper,

In spite of the canine-showing younger daughter of the town’s magistrate.

 

(I pant, I pause, and I want to say something to the sea.

Say something to the sea? About my fall, fantasy, or her?)

 

Fragmented dialogues and steps, hearken!

Trysts on the sea denied human sight, hearken!

 

If tides gently ebb, time does not carry the worth of a single coin,

If a fisherman wakes up when he should sleep, he will startle tosee it all.

 

Oh, my siren, a wordless song flows from her scarlet mouth;

She walks past the embankment, tranquiller than a midnight waterfowl.

 

Postscripts译后赘言

  Dosirens get wings? Do they need to fly out of water? It appears that they are dolphin-like creatures, but still they may float in the moonlight, like angels.But that is where the angels do not tread, that is where human eyes do not cast down, that is a kingdom of freedom by itself. If angels do not go there, does it mean that it is a promised land of amorality, a place where evil is beyond the principle of good and evil? Or rather, a space where women are merely human, a being free from any societal distinction? Sirens sing to themselves, and that’s why intruders who overhear them will be doomed to die. Or live with them forever?

  A woman will have to rid of clothes to fly, as women have always been clad in ponderous costumes. Dancing is not flying, but a show, for spectators, inevitably male. Singing? Hard to say, sometimes for themselves, sometimes not.

 

 

   傍晚书

       白玛

这是叙述中寻常的傍晚时

寒冷并无敌意。这是叙述中

无路绕行的低潮部分——

我沿着河滩慢跑。水鸟站在苇梢默默凝视河心岛

枯枝举向半空

而远处的神情、腔调、事端,一无所知

这也是叙述中被遗漏的易逝时刻——

天向晚,待群星疏朗

我正埋头独饮。寂静如潮水拍打落地灯

孩子刚刚入睡,眼睑上跃动着睫毛那些冬青丛般的投影

 

   The Bookof Dusk

          by Baima tr. FanJinghua

This is the dusk commonly found in a narrative

When coolness poses no hostility. This is the lowest tide

No narrative can bypass—

I jog along the riverside. Waterfowls stand silent on reed-tops, looking at the shoal

Where dry branches thrust upward

And in the distance, expressions, voices and turbulence are beyond apprehension

This is a transient moment, never captured in a narrative—

Dusk is impending, waiting for the stars to do their show

As I bury myself in a wine. Silence blows against a floor-lamp like waves

And my child has just fallen into sleep, shadows of holly-eyebrows flickering on the lids

 

 

  只有孤独如幕

       白玛

回头望向

我横刀策马

赢美人归

洒英雄泪

天苍茫

啊,只有孤独如幕

 

  Lonelinessalone makes a curtain

       by Baima  tr. FanJinghua

head turning to look at

me, halberd in hand, spurring a war-horse

with the prize of a beauty

with tears of a hero

under a boundless sky

oh, loneliness alone makes a curtain

 

 

   自愈

鲸鱼航海,神的国度里鹰在秘密演习。

我生来卑微、一无所长,只有受伤后自愈的天赋。

 

  Self-Healing

    by Baima  tr. Fan Jinghua

Whales navigate; in god’s kingdom, eagles are practicing their art in secret.

I, born low, am good for nothing except for the only endowment of self-healing.

 

 

 

  流浪,流浪

       白玛(1972-)

我到了她的年纪

她却长成少妇的模样

零花钱、超短裙、性事

她一样不少。还每天绻在窗台上

午睡。到了她的年纪

我揣着钥匙流浪,不回头也不问将来

我,我,一旦化了妆

看起来和她相仿

 

  Wandering, Wanderer

      byBaima tr. FanJinghua

Now I have reached her age,

She already takes on the look of a married woman.

Pocket money, mini-skirts, and sex,

She lacks none. Also, she curls up on the windowsill,

Taking her noon nap. At her age,

I am still roving around, with a key in the pocket, no past

To fall on, no future to turn to.

I, and I, and I, if put on rouge, I would be

Just another version of her.

 

 

Postscripts:

    She Who Roves Around and She Who StaysPut

 There are people who are of water nature, and people of rock nature. The one who is water, runs to find a pool as a home, a destination on this world. The one who is rock, taking pride in its rolling, satisfies with the sound of being on the way. It rolls to enjoy its rolling, which no destination can provide. There is, however, some similarity between rock and water. They make sounds on their way to a lower place. Lower, because of being closer to the earth, or at least it seems to be. If you need a difference to balance, it lies in the way the sounds are made. Water makes sounds because it is blocked and it is agitated. Rock makes sounds because it bumps into another. Do I have to be long-winded? They are heavy, both of them, and this makes them two sides of the same coin.

 

译后赘言:

      那流浪的、那坚守的

 人分两种,有的是水性的,有的是石性的。水,流动以找到一个深潭,作为家,此世的终点;岩石,以滚动为自豪的资本,满足于一路上的声音。它在滚动中享受滚动,这享受是任何目的地都无法给予的。水与石的相同在于它们在通往低处的途中都制造了声音;低,那是因为更接近大地,或者起码看来如此。如果你需要它们之间相异之处,那就在于它们制造声音的方式不同。水,因为被阻挡、被激怒,故而有声;石头,因为撞击其它石块而有声。我还需要没完没了么?它们,都很沉重;这使得它们不过是同一枚硬币的两面而已。

 

Aboutthe Poet 诗人简介

 Baima,or Baima Cuomu in full, born in Shandong in 1972, began publishing poems asearly as at the age of 16. She had been in the army in Beijing, and lived in Jiangsu, Beijing and Lhasa. She now lives in Linyi, Shandong. She authors a poetry book The Messenger on the Way, and co-authors a poetry book We Seven. Baima is a fiercely confident poet.

 白玛,全名白玛措木,1972年生于山东,早在16岁时便发表诗歌。她曾在北京服役,居住过江苏、北京、拉萨,现居山东临沂。出版过个人诗集《信使在途中》、合集《我们柒》。白玛是一个非常自信的诗人。

 

 

 

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