没什么可说的Sayonly 译

Nothing To Be Said菲利普·拉金


模糊的国家,杂草一样生长,
For nations vague as weed,
游牧的民族,石块之间流浪,
For nomads among stones,
脸上绘着十字的矮人部落,
Small-statured cross-faced tribes
鹅卵石般密集的房,
And cobble-close families
还未破晓早晨的磨坊,
In mill-towns on dark mornings
生命不过是缓缓的死亡。
Life is slow dying.

这就是,他们各不相同的方式,
So are their separate ways
建筑、福祉,
Of building, benediction,
衡量爱情和金钱,
Measuring love and money
缓缓死亡的方式。
Ways of slowly dying.
那些狩猎,
The day spent hunting pig 
或是花园派对的日子,
Or holding a garden-party,

那些给出根据、
Hours giving evidence
带来新生的时间,
Or birth, advance
向着死亡走近,
On death equally slowly.
一样的缓慢。
And saying so to some
这么说,对某些人,
Means nothing; others it leaves
毫无意义;对其他的人,
Nothing to be said.
没什么可说的。


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