推 nojain: 10/24 12:57
榆樹
--Sylvia Plath
寫給Ruth Fainlight
我知道底限在哪，她說。我用我粗大的根管探過底：
而那正是你所恐懼的。
我可不怕：我到過那個地方。
那就是你所聽見的我體內的海，
及其不滿嗎？
抑或是虛無的聲音，那就是令你狂怒的原因嗎？
愛是一抹黑影。
令你如此翻來覆去呻吟夢囈。
聽：愛的蹄聲：它早已遠去，如馬一匹。
我整晚該當奔馳如斯，如火如荼，
直到你的頭成了一片石板，枕頭成了一小塊草泥，
此呼彼應，此呼彼應。
抑或是我該給你毒液灌耳之聲？
現在它化成雨了，這巨大的噓聲。
而它的結果是：錫白，如砒霜。
我天天都飽嚐落日的殘虐。
一直灼燒到根部
我赤紅的燈芯燒著、撐著，一團電線。
現在我被擊得粉碎，如斷裂的棍棒紛飛。
一陣如此暴戾的風
絕不會讓任何事物旁觀無事︰我不禁尖叫。
月娘，亦然，毫不憐憫：她總是拽著我
殘酷地，使我貧瘠不毛。
她的光暈刮傷了我。或許反該怪我攔下了她。
我放她走。我放她走。
萎縮而扁平，像經歷了劇烈的手術。
你的惡夢如此強烈地佔有我、賦予我。
一種哭喊在我身上棲息。
每晚鼓翼而出
用它的勾爪，搜尋值得愛的事物。
我被這幽暗之物嚇壞了
它就睡在我體內。
我整天都能感覺到它柔軟毛茸的翻身，它的惡行惡狀。
雲一朵朵飄過、散去。
那些就是愛的臉龐嗎，那些個蒼白、無以挽回？
我就是因此而亂了心緒嗎？
知道更多我會無力承受。
這是什麼，這張臉是什麼
這絞勒在枝幹上更畢露的兇像是什麼？──
它蛇繞的尖酸嘶嘶作響。
麻痺了意志。這些零星發生的、慢性的錯誤
致死，致死，致死。
Elm
For Ruth Fainlight
I know the bottom, she says. I know it with my great tap root:
It is what you fear.
I do not fear it: I have been there.
Is it the sea you hear in me,
Its dissatisfactions?
Or the voice of nothing, that was your madness?
Love is a shadow.
How you lie and cry after it
Listen: these are its hooves: it has gone off, like a horse.
All night I shall gallop thus, impetuously,
Till your head is a stone, your pillow a little turf,
Echoing, echoing.
Or shall I bring you the sound of poisons?
This is rain now, this big hush.
And this is the fruit of it: tin-white, like arsenic.
I have suffered the atrocity of sunsets.
Scorched to the root
My red filaments burn and stand, a hand of wires.
Now I break up in pieces that fly about like clubs.
A wind of such violence
Will tolerate no bystanding: I must shriek.
The moon, also, is merciless: she would drag me
Cruelly, being barren.
Her radiance scathes me. Or perhaps I have caught her.
I let her go. I let her go
Diminished and flat, as after radical surgery.
How your bad dreams possess and endow me.
I am inhabited by a cry.
Nightly it flaps out
Looking, with its hooks, for something to love.
I am terrified by this dark thing
That sleeps in me;
All day I feel its soft, feathery turnings, its malignity.
Clouds pass and disperse.
Are those the faces of love, those pale irretrievables?
Is it for such I agitate my heart?
I am incapable of more knowledge.
What is this, this face
So murderous in its strangle of branches? --
Its snaky acids hiss.
It petrifies the will. These are the isolate, slow faults
That kill, that kill, that kill.
--
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