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得一忘二

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周四的喀耳刻  

2017-12-17 19:02:01|  分类: Lavish 吟 |  标签: |举报 |字号 订阅

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  周四的喀耳刻

 

    每个女魔法师在骨子里都很实用主义。

             ——露易丝·格丽克

 

你在黎明前梦见一座黛山,周四随之打开,

而阳光满脸慵懒,坐在床上,赖着。

那山下,蓝房子里,一个男人仍然陷在床头板后,

他渐渐将自己活成了一匹猪。

哦,这是一种修辞,不像喀耳刻的那种,

而你构映场景的方式已把他转化成了一头猪,

说好听点,是一匹失去野性的狮子。

这缓慢的变形你没觉察,却安心,

所以你以微笑安慰自己,满足于这陪伴,

犹如你横渡着凶险诡谲的大海,闭着眼

却也知道有一根浮木就在眼前,伸手可及。

回顾起来,你总觉得那航程开始得太早,

若再有机会,很有可能,你只想

在林间空地栽花弄草。可是那一船人

让你禁不住要想象各种冒险故事。

波涛凶险的水路,你如今波峰浪谷地走着,

如履平沙,习惯得对冰山或乌云毫无警觉。

你耳朵说那并非经上的寓言或行人道上的罗曼司,

但你眼睛见到的不过是救护车从身边匆匆而去。

曾经,你爬着梯子瞭望,现在那梯子放倒了自己,

犹如船尾的浪,把航程抹消在泡沫中。

可时不时地,你会渴望躺在那尾迹上,剥去衣物,

向怠忽的上帝

展露你大字的胴体,呈示你隐秘的原始的白皙。

毕竟,已是周四,一周已经这么深,

毕竟,这是一年的迟暮季节,

周边温度在下降,你的欲望在平缓

今天的晚霞正在为明天的晨光腾空自己,

你明白你不必匆匆醒来,

在祈祷和休息的日子。

        20171216-17

 

  Circe On Thursday

    Every sorceress is a pragmatist at heart.

            ----Louise Glück

 

Thursday breaks with your dream of a dark green mountain,

And the sun, with faceful languor, sits on its bed, lingering.

Below the mountain, in the blue house, a man sinks behind the headboard,

And there, he is gradually living himself into a pig.

Oh, this is a figure of speech, not the like of Circe,

But the way you picture the scene has turned him into something

Like a pig, or a docile lion at the best.

The slow transformation is imperceptibly comforting,

And you smile to yourself, complacent with the company,

As if you have always known there is a floating log in sight, reachable,

While you zigzag across a treacherous sea.

Looking back, you would think the voyage started a little too early,

And given another chance, you’d probably only want

To attend a garden in a clearing by the dark green mountain.

But a crew of another kind triggered your imagination of adventures.

The wavy way is now a daily route, and you walk it,

Too complacent to watch for distant icebergs or dark clouds.

Your ears hear that they are not Bible fables or pedestrian romances,

But your eyes see them as passing ambulances.

You used to climb a ladder to watch, and now the ladder has laid itself down

Like the wake behind a boat wiping out the course into foams.

At times, you wish to go lying on the wake, stripped bare, and exhibit

To the negligent God

The X-shape of your hidden, primary whiteness.

After all, it’s Thursday, and you’ve come so deep into a week

In this late season of the year,

And your desire moderates itself with the ambient temperature.

Today's afterglow is making room for tomorrow's light,

And you know you do not need to wake up early 

To the day of rest and pray.

         Nov. 20-21, 2017

 

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