I.
1
"Mother of heaven, regina of the clouds,
“天空之母呀，云朵的女王，
O sceptre of the sun, crown of the moon,
太阳的节杖 ，月亮之皇冠，
There is not nothing, no, no, never nothing,
没有东西，对，绝对没有什么，
Like the clashed edges of two words that kill."
像两个戕杀的词彼此迸撞的边角。”
And so I mocked her in magnificent measure.
于是我用华丽的诗章嘲弄她，
Or was it that I mocked myself alone?
或许我反倒是嘲弄了我自身？
I wish that I might be a thinking stone.
我愿变成一块想事儿的石头。
The sea of spuming thought foists up again
满海吐泡沫的思想又托举起
The radiant bubble that she was. And then
晶亮的水泡，大海的化身。而
A deep up-pouring from some saltier well
过咸的水井里某种幽深忽然溢出，
Within me, bursts its watery syllable.
在我的体内，它喷出似水的音节。
II.
2
A red bird flies across the golden floor.
一只小红鸟儿掠过镀金的地板。
It is a red bird that seeks out his choir
这小红鸟儿在找着它的歌队，
Among the choirs of wind and wet and wing.
在风和雨以及翅膀的合唱队中。
A torrent will fall from him when he finds.
一找到，它就会抛出一股瀑布。
Shall I uncrumple this much-crumpled thing?
我该不该把皱破的东西弄回原样？
I am a man of fortune greeting heirs;
我有的是钱，与继承人周旋，
For it has come that thus I greet the spring.
我也是如此年年跟着春天寒暄。
These choirs of welcome choir for me farewell.
那些欢迎我的合唱对我高唱起骊歌。
No spring can follow past meridian.
没有哪个春天能越过子午线。
Yet you persist with anecdotal bliss
但你老用鸡毛蒜皮的赏心事
To make believe a starry connaissance.
来冒充你有着星空般的知识。
III.
3
Is it for nothing, then, that old Chinese
那么，悠久的中国人是否徒劳地
Sat tittivating by their mountain pools
理好衣冠，在深山幽池打坐？
Or in the Yangtse studied out their beards?
或于扬子江畔细细研究着胡须？
I shall not play the flat historic scale.
我不要摆弄历史平稳的秤盘。
You know how Utamaro's beauties sought
你可知道浮世绘的美人儿会是如何
The end of love in their all-speaking braids.
以身殉情，吞吃着意味深长的辫髻。
You know the mountainous coiffures of Bath.
你也知道芭丝那高山般的发式。
Alas! Have all the barbers lived in vain
唉，莫非所有的理发匠都白活了，
That not one curl in nature has survived?
竟没让一丝美发存活在大自然？
Why, without pity on these studious ghosts,
你，既然对苦读的幽灵毫无怜悯，
Do you come dripping in your hair from sleep?
为何要披头散发，从睡寐中走来？
IV.
4
This luscious and impeccable fruit of life
这甜腻的，圆满的生存之果，
Falls, it appears, of its own weight to earth.
坠地，似乎再担不起自身之重。
When you were Eve, its acrid juice was sweet,
你若还是夏娃，酸果就还会甜，
Untasted, in its heavenly, orchard air.
未被尝过，还长在伊甸园的气候里。
An apple serves as well as any skull
一只苹果可充当一个骷髅，
To be the book in which to read a round,
进而变成那可通读一遍的圣书，
And is as excellent, in that it is composed
也好得很，因为它的组成部分
Of what, like skulls, comes rotting back to ground.
正是那些骷髅般腐朽落地的东西。
But it excels in this, that as the fruit
而它的长处是充当了爱之果，
Of love, it is a book too mad to read
这是一本狂野得难以细读的书，
Before one merely reads to pass the time.
谁也不能随便读读，打发时光。
V.
5
In the high west there burns a furious star.
高高在上，西天燃烧着一颗烈星。
It is for fiery boys that star was set
它安装在那儿本是为了照耀
And for sweet-smelling virgins close to them.
热乎乎的少年和身边吐香的处女。
The measure of the intensity of love
浓烈的爱欲的尺度也正好是
Is measure, also, of the verve of earth.
测量大地之活力的尺度。
For me, the firefly's quick, electric stroke
而对于我，萤火虫带电的流光
Ticks tediously the time of one more year.
嘀嗒回响着又一年倦怠的时光。
And you? Remember how the crickets came
你呢？你记得蟋蟀如何爬出
Out of their mother grass, like little kin,
母亲草地，像一群小小的亲戚，
In the pale nights, when your first imagery
在夜色苍茫中。这时，你最初的
Found inklings of your bond to all that dust.
形象，已露出与尘土相联的端倪。
VI.
6
If men at forty will be painting lakes
四十岁的男人如果还要画山水，
The ephemeral blues must merge for them in one,
必将把短命的众蓝混为一谈，
The basic slate, the universal hue.
石板的底色，宇宙的天光。
There is a substance in us that prevails.
有一种实质一直主宰着我们。
But in our amours amorists discern
而从我们的肉欲，色情家看出
Such fluctuations that their scrivening
好些让他们气喘吁吁的波动，
Is breathless to attend each quirky turn.
诡诈的细节，他们无从恭录。
When amorists grow bald, then amours shrink
当色情家秃了头，色情也就
Into the compass and curriculum
萎缩进罗盘和课表，经受
Of introspective exiles, lecturing.
内省的放逐，到处布道。
It is a theme for Hyacinth alone.
这是一个留给风信子的主题。
VII.
7
The mules that angels ride come slowly down
天使骑着驴子慢悠悠地下凡，
The blazing passes, from beyond the sun.
从太阳那边，经过耀眼的光芒。
Descensions of their tinkling bells arrive.
他们悦耳的铃铛声越来越近。
These muleteers are dainty of their way.
赶驴人也个个优雅得体。
Meantime, centurions guffaw and beat
这当儿，百夫长们大笑起来，
Their shrilling tankards on the table-boards.
在桌上拍打着呼啸的酒盏。
This parable, in sense, amounts to this:
这则寓言的喻意可归结如下：
The honey of heaven may or may not come,
天国之蜜可得，也未必可得，
But that of earth both comes and goes at once.
而大地之蜜却是来了又去。
Suppose these couriers brought amid their train
试想：这些信使在其列队中
A damsel heightened by eternal bloom.
也带了个如花似玉的好闺女。
VIII.
8
Like a dull scholar, I behold, in love,
像个愚笨的学究，我钟情地凝注
An ancient aspect touching a new mind.
古典的课题触动新的心灵。
It comes, it blooms, it bears its fruit and dies.
显形，开花，结果，尔后死去。
This trivial trope reveals a way of truth.
这譬喻虽俗，却多少启示了真理。
Our bloom is gone. We are the fruit thereof.
我们的花已谢，我们演变成果实。
Two golden gourds distended on our vines,
我们的蔓藤上两只金葫芦鼓囊囊的，
Into the autumn weather, splashed with frost,
深入秋天，通体点缀着银霜，
Distorted by hale fatness, turned grotesque.
肥硕得走了样，变得有点荒唐。
We hang like warty squashes, streaked and rayed,
带着条纹和斑斓，我俩像疣瘤似的
The laughing sky will see the two of us
南瓜一样悬着。笑眯眯的天空看着
Washed into rinds by rotting winter rains.
冬雨把我们浇烂，蹂成碎皮。
IX.
9
In verses wild with motion, full of din,
狂野的诗章中，充满了动和响，
Loudened by cries, by clashes, quick and sure
哇啦又砰嘭，喧闹声此起彼伏，
As the deadly thought of men accomplishing
像战场上男子汉想着致命的念头，
Their curious fates in war, come, celebrate
落实古怪的命运。监护神丘比特，
The faith of forty, ward of Cupido.
来吧，让我们庆贺四十岁的信仰。
Most venerable heart, the lustiest conceit
最可敬的心，那最色情的思想
Is not too lusty for your broadening.
也不能使博大的你心旌摇荡。
I quiz all sounds, all thoughts, all everything
为了配置帝王的乐曲和派头，
For the music and manner of the paladins
我盘查每个音，每个想法，等等，
To make oblation fit. Where shall I find
安置好祭品。哪儿我才能找到
Bravura adequate to this great hymn?
一段华彩，来配合这宏大的颂歌？
X.
10
The fops of fancy in their poems leave
空想的花花公子在诗行中留下
Memorabilia of the mystic spouts,
玄妙的水龙头喷出的大事记，
Spontaneously watering their gritty soils.
忽发奇想，浇灌他们多石的地皮。
I am a yeoman, as such fellows go.
我是自由民，跟大伙儿一样。
I know no magic trees, no balmy boughs,
我没有见识过什么魔树香枝，
No silver-ruddy, gold-vermilion fruits.
也不知何谓银红或朱金的水果。
But, after all, I know a tree that bears
不过，我深知有那么一棵树，
A semblance to the thing I have in mind.
它跟我心灵中的那件东西相似。
It stands gigantic, with a certain tip
它高高耸立，含着一种脆响，
To which all birds come sometime in their time.
吸引着各路鸟雀飞落其间。
But when they go that tip still tips the tree.
即便它们飞走，树儿仍脆响不绝。
XI.
11
If sex were all, then every trembling hand
如果性是一切，那每只哆嗦的手
Could make us squeak, like dolls, the wished-for words.
都能捏叫我们欲望之词，像洋娃娃。
But note the unconscionable treachery of fate,
但请留心乖戾命运骇人的捉弄，
That makes us weep, laugh, grunt and groan, and shout
叫你哭，笑，叫你哼，叫你闹，
Doleful heroics, pinching gestures forth
大放悲歌，从疯癫或快活中
From madness or delight, without regard
捏出各种怪样子，完全不顾
To that first, foremost law. Anguishing hour!
那原初的戒律。苦闷的时辰啊！
Last night, we sat beside a pool of pink,
昨夜，我们坐在一个粉红的池边，
Clippered with lilies scudding the bright chromes,
四周剪落的百合，闪亮的铬栏
Keen to the point of starlight, while a frog
汇合着星辉的指点。而一只
Boomed from his very belly odious chords.
田蛙，从肚皮下吼出可憎的歌。
XII.
12
A blue pigeon it is, that circles the blue sky,
瞧，一只蓝鸽子，在蓝天盘旋，
On sidelong wing, around and round and round.
翅儿侧着。一圈一圈又一圈。
A white pigeon it is, that flutters to the ground,
瞧，一只白鸽子，飞落到地面，
Grown tired of flight. Like a dark rabbi, I
倦于再飞。像个幽黑的经师，我
Observed, when young, the nature of mankind,
年纪轻轻在庄重的书斋静观
In lordly study. Every day, I found
人之本性。每天我竟发现，
Man proved a gobbet in my mincing world.
人是我假斯文世界里的小注脚。
Like a rose rabbi, later, I pursued,
后来，像个洪亮的经师，我
And still pursue, the origin and course
我叩问又叩问爱之起源和它的
Of love, but until now I never knew
演变，但只到此刻我才领悟
That fluttering things have so distinct a shade.
展翅的事物有着如此清晰的投影。