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“我有当受的洗还未成就,我的心里是何等的迫切呢!”

 
 
 

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试译艾略特《四个四重奏》(第二篇)  

2012-03-31 15:01:45|  分类: 默认分类 |  标签: |举报 |字号 订阅

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East Coker

 

第二篇 东科克

 

Ⅰ.

In my beginning is my end.

In succession

Houses rise and fall, crumble, are extended,

Are removed, destroyed, restored, or in their place

Is an open field, or a factory, or a by-pass.

Old stone to new building, old timber to new fires,

Old fires to ashes, and ashes to the earth

Which is already flesh, fur and faeces,

Bone of man and beast, cornstalk and leaf.

Houses live and die: there is a time for building

And a time for living and for generation

And a time for the wind to break the loosened pane

And to shake the wainscot where the field-mouse trots

And to shake the tattered arras woven with a silent motto.

 

In my beginning is my end. Now the light falls

Across the open field, leaving the deep lane

Shuttered with branches, dark in the afternoon,

Where you lean against a bank while a van passes,

And the deep lane insists on the direction

Into the village, in the elctric heat

Hypnotised. In a warm haze the sultry light

Is absorbed, not refracted, by grey stone.

The dahlias sleep in the empty silence.

Wait for the early owl.

 

In that open field

If you do not come too close, if you do not come too close,

On a summer midnight, you can hear the music

Of the weak pipe and the little drum

And see them dancing around the bonfire the association of man and woman

In daunsinge, signifying matrimonie?

A dignified and commodious sacrament.

Two and two, necessary coniunction,

Holding each other by the hand or the arm

Whiche betokeneth concorde. Round and round the fire

Leaping through the flames, or joined in circles,

Rustically solemn or in rustic laughter

Lifting heavy feet in clumsy shoes,

Earth feet, loam feet, lifted in country mirth

Mirth of those long since under earth

Nourishing the corn. Keeping time,

Keeping the rhythm in their dancing

As in their living in the living seasons

The time of the seasons and the constellations

The time of milking and the time of harvest

The time of the coupling of man and woman

And that of beasts. Feet rising and falling.

Eating and drinking. Dung and death.

 

Dawn points, and another day

Prepares for heat and silence. Out at sea the dawn wind

Wrinkles and slides. I am here

Or there, or elsewhere. In my beginning.

一.

在我的开始是我的终点。

持续不断地

房屋建起又倾颓,瓦解,又扩展

迁移,破败,重修,或在原址上

出现一片空旷的原野,或一家工厂,或一条间道。

旧石变作新楼,旧木变作新火,

旧火变为灰烬,灰烬化作泥土。

泥土又化作了血肉、皮毛和粪便,

化作人与兽的骨头、稻草和叶子。

房屋活着又死掉:它有建造的时间

有生存和更新换代的时期

有被风吹打的日子——窗棂破碎,

壁板松脱——老鼠在上面跑来跑去,

织着箴言的挂毯破烂不堪,在风里摇晃。

 

在我的开始是我的结束。现在,日光降落,

掠过空旷的原野,只留下一条幽深的小路,

被树木遮掩;昏暗的下午,

你倚着堤岸,一辆货车从身边驶过。

幽深的小路,固执地朝着

村庄的方向伸展;村子在炙热中

被催眠。在朦胧的暖雾中,阳光

被灰色的石头吸收,而不是反射,

大丽花在空寂中沉睡,

等到早来的猫头鹰。

 

在那空旷的原野,

如果你不走得太近,如果你不走得太近,

你会在夏日的子夜,听到音乐

由柔弱的笛子和小鼓演奏,

会看到篝火旁的舞蹈,男女结对

而舞,——为婚礼而举行?

一桩庄严而便捷的圣礼?

成双结对,必然的结合。

以手或臂膀相拥,

昭示和谐美满。围绕着篝火,

人们跳过火焰,或加入圆形的队列

加入这朴拙的庄严或无羁的大笑,

抬起穿着笨重鞋子的脚,

粘着泥土,肥沃的泥土,抬起来,在乡野的欢笑中,

这欢笑发自地下,长久以来

滋养着地上的谷物。踏着节拍,

在韵律中起舞,

就像他们在季节更替的节律展开的生活,

四季轮转和星座挪移的时刻,

挤奶的时刻与丰收的时刻,

男女婚配的时刻与

野兽交合的时刻。脚抬起,放下。

吃与喝,排泄与死亡。

 

破晓时分,新的一天,

准备着新的炎热和沉寂。晨风掠过海面,

吹起波纹,滑行而去。我在这里

或那里,或别处。在我的开始。

Ⅱ.

What is the late November doing

With the disturbance of the spring

And creatures of the summer heat,

And snowdrops writhing under feet

And hollyhocks that aim too high

Red into grey and tumble down

Late roses filled with early snow?

Thunder rolled by the rolling stars

Simulates triumphal cars

Deployed in constellated wars

Scorpion fights against the Sun

Until the Sun and Moon go down

Comets weep and Leonids fly

Hunt the heavens and the plains

Whirled in a vortex that shall bring

The world to that destructive fire

Which burns before the ice-cap reigns.

 

That was a way of putting it - not very satisfactory:

A periphrastic study in a worn-out poetical fashion,

Leaving one still with the intolerable wrestle

With words and meanings. The poetry does not matter.

It was not (to start again) what one had expected.

What was to be the value of the long looked forward to,

Long hoped for calm, the autumnal serenity

And the wisdom of age? Had they deceived us,

Or deceived themselves, the quiet-voiced elders,

Bequeathing us merely a receipt for deceit?

The serenity only a deliberate hebetude,

The wisdom only the knowledge of dead secrets

Useless in the darkness into which they peered

Or from which they turned their eyes. There is, it seems to us,

At best, only a limited value

In the knowledge derived from experience.

The knowledge inposes a pattern, and falsifies,

For the pattern is new in every moment

And every moment is a new and shocking

Valuation of all we have been. We are only undeceived

Of that which, deceiving, could no longer harm.

In the middle, not only in the middle of the way

but all the way, in a dark wood, in a bramble,

On the edge of a grimpen, where is no secure foothold,

And menaced by monsters, fancy lights,

Risking enchantment. Do not let me hear

Of the wisdom of old men, but rahter of their folly,

Their fear of fear and frenzy, their fear of possession,

Of belonging to another, or to others, or to God.

The only wisdom we can hope to acquire

Is the wisdom of humility: humility is endless.

 

The houses are all gone under the sea.

The dancers are all gone under the hill.

二.

这个十一月在做什么,用

春天的搅扰,

夏暑的造物,

脚下翻腾的雪块,

向往过高却由红变灰

跌落下来的蜀葵,

和盖满初雪的迟开的玫瑰?

雷声滚过运转的群星,

似凯旋的战车

驶过星座汇集的战场,

天蝎与太阳争锋,

直至日月沉落

彗星哭泣,狮子座流星飞驰

追捕处于一团漩涡中旋转

的天空和大地;这漩涡

把世界卷入毁灭之火

直到冰雪君临大地。

 

这曾是一种诗意的表达方式——并不尽人意:

用一种过时的风格进行拐弯抹角的尝试,之后

人们仍然被留在同词语和内涵

进行的令人难以忍受的搏斗中。诗并非重点所在。

它不是人们所期待的(再次提起)事物。

什么才是人们长久以来渴求的价值?

久久期盼的宁静,秋日的安详

或岁月的智慧?它们曾欺骗我们,

或欺骗它们自己?那音容消逝的长者,

遗赠给我们的仅是一张谎言的签收单?

平静只是一种刻意的愚蠢,

智慧只是无用的知识

是黑暗——他们在其中凝视,或移开目光——中关于

死去的秘密的知识。由此,看来

它们只是有限的价值,

在出自经验的知识中。

知识塑造出一个样品,它弄虚作假,

这样品在每一刻都是新的

而且在每一刻都是重新对我们过往一切

进行的骇人的估价。只有在欺骗

不再有害时,我们才能不受骗。

在中间,不仅是在路途中间,

而是自始至终,在黑暗的树林里,在荆棘丛中,

在沼泽的边缘,没有安全的立足之地,

而且伴着鬼怪与异光的胁迫,

经受着中邪的危险。别让我听

长者的智慧,不如听他们的愚行,

听他们对疯狂和恐惧的恐惧,他们对财产的恐惧,

对被另一个人,被他人,甚或被上帝奴役的恐惧。

唯一我们可以祈求得到的智慧

是谦卑:谦卑是无止境的。

 

所有的房屋都沉入大海。

所有的舞者都长眠山下。

Ⅲ.

O dark dark dark. They all go into the dark,

The vacant interstellar spaces, the vacant into the vacant,

The captains, merchant bankers, eminent men of letters,

The generous patrons of art, the statesmen and the rulers,

Distinguished civil servants, chairmen of many committees,

Industrial lords and petty contractors, all go into the dark,

And dark the Sun and Moon, and the Almanach de Gotha

And the Stock Exchange Gazette, the Directory of Directors,

And cold the sense and lost the motive of action.

And we all go with them, into the silent funeral,

Nobody's funeral, for there is no one to bury.

I said to my soul, be still, and let the dark come upon you

Which shall be the darkness of God. As, in a theatre,

The lights are extinguished, for the scene to be changed

With a hollow rumble of wings, with a movement of darkness on darkness,

And we know that the hills and the trees, the distant panorama

And the bold imposing facade are all being rolled away-

Or as, when an underground train, in the tube, stops too long between stations

And the conversation rises and slowly fades into silence

And you see behind every face the mental emptiness deepen

Leaving only the growing terror of nothing to think about;

Or when, under ether, the mind is conscious but conscious of nothing-

I said to my soul, be still, and wait without hope

For hope would be hope for the wrong thing; wait without love,

For love would be love of the wrong thing; there is yet faith

But the faith and the love and the hope are all in the waiting.

Wait without thought, for you are not ready for thought:

So the darkness shall be the light, and the stillness the dancing.

 

Whisper of running streams, and winter lightning.

The wild thyme unseen and the wild strawberry,

The laughter in the garden, echoed ecstasy

Not lost, but requiring, pointing to the agony

Of death and birth.

You say I am repeating

Something I have said before. I shall say it again.

Shall I say it again? In order to arrive there,

To arrive where you are, to get from where you are not,

You must go by a way wherein there is no ecstacy.

In order to arrive at what you do not know

You must go by a way which is the way of ignorance.

In order to possess what you do not possess

You must go by the way of dispossession.

In order to arrive at what you are not

You must go through the way in which you are not.

And what you do not know is the only thing you know

And what you own is what you do not own

And where you are is where you are not.

 

IV

The wounded surgeon plies the steel

That questions the distempered part;

Beneath the bleeding hands we feel

The sharp compassion of the healer's art

Resolving the enigma of the fever chart.

Our only health is the disease

If we obey the dying nurse

Whose constant care is not to please

But to remind us of our, and Adam's curse,

And that, to be restored, our sickness must grow worse.

The whole earth is our hospital

Endowed by the ruined millionaire,

Wherein, if we do well, we shall

Die of the absolute paternal care

That will not leave us, but prevents us everywhere.

The chill ascends from feet to knees,

The fever sings in mental wires.

If to be warmed, then I must freeze

And quake in frigid purgatorial fires

Of which the flame is roses, and the smoke is briars.

The dripping blood our only drink,

The bloody flesh our only food:

In spite of which we like to think

That we are sound, substantial flesh and blood-

Again, in spite of that, we call this Friday good.

三.

哦,黑暗黑暗黑暗。他们都进入黑暗,

空荡荡的星际太空,空虚进入空虚,

上校们,银行家们,显赫的文字工作者们,

慷慨的艺术赞助人,政治家和统治者们,

显要的都市公仆们,各色委员会主席,

工业巨子和卑微的承包商们,都进入黑暗,

日月也隐去光芒,哥达年鉴

证券市场报,董事名录,

冷却了感觉,失去了行动的欲望。

我们都将跟随他们,进入肃穆的葬礼,

无人的葬礼,因为没有人要下葬。

我对自己的灵魂说,安静,让黑暗降临于你

那将是上帝的黑暗。就像,在一座剧院里,

为了变幻场景,灯光消失了,

随着一阵空寂的翅膀的摩挲声,随着一阵移动,在黑暗之上的黑暗中,

我们知道小山,树林,远景,

和那些显眼的正面装设,都被移走;

或者,像是一辆地下的火车,当它在两个车站之间的隧道里,停留得太久

乘客们的谈话声响起,又逐渐陷入沉默,

于是,你透过每张脸看到正在加深的内心的空虚,

大脑一片空白,只剩下恐惧在增长;

或者,在苍穹之下,思维变得清醒却无可思想——

我对自己的灵魂说,安静,等待但无须希望,

因为希望可能是对不善之物的渴望;等待但无须爱念,

因为爱有可能是对不善之物的爱恋;信念也同样如此,

然而,信念、爱和希望都处于等待之中,

等待但没有思考,因为你还没有为思考做好准备:

于是,黑暗成为光明,静止成为舞蹈。

 

淙淙的溪水,冬日里的闪电。

无人赏识的野草莓和百里香,

花园里的笑声,回荡着曾经的迷醉,

没有消逝,它们要求着,指向着

生与死的苦痛。

你说我在重复

我之前曾说过的。我还要再一次谈起。

我还要再次谈起吗?为了到达那里,

到达你所在之地,从你所不在之处,

你必须走一条没有欢愉之路。

为了达到你所不解之物,

你必须走一条无知之路。

为了获得你所未拥有的,

你必须走一条被剥夺之路。

为了成就你所不是之物,

你必须走一条非我之路。

你所不知道的是你所唯一知道的

你所拥有的是你所不拥有的

你所在之地是你所不在之地。

 

四.

受伤的外科医生挥舞着钢刀

去探究那不健康的部位;

在那滴血的双手下,我们感知到

他那浸透着医者尖利同情的技艺

正揭开体温表格里的迷局。

我们唯一的健康是疾病

如果我们依从那垂死的护士,

她持久的看护并不受欢迎,

但却让我们忆起加于我们和亚当身上的诅咒,

而且,一旦它重临,我们的病情必将恶化。

整个世界是我们的医院,

由那位破产的百万富翁所捐赠,

在那里,只要我们表现良好,我们就会

死于那无限的父爱——

它从不会离开,而是随时随地看守着我们。

寒冷从双脚升到膝盖,

热病在神经线上一路欢歌。

如果被温暖,我一定会被冰冷的

地狱之火冻僵、颤抖,

那火焰是玫瑰,烟雾是荆棘。

滴下的血是我们唯一的饮料,

带血的肉是我们唯一的食物:

尽管如此,我们依然认为

我们健康活跃,有血有肉,

是的,即便如此,我们仍会说这个星期五不错。

Ⅴ.

So here I am, in the middle way, having had twenty years-

Twenty years largely wasted, the years of l'entre deux guerres-

Trying to use words, and every attempt

Is a wholy new start, and a different kind of failure

Because one has only learnt to get the better of words

For the thing one no longer has to say, or the way in which

One is no longer disposed to say it. And so each venture

Is a new beginning, a raid on the inarticulate,

With shabby equipment always deteriorating

In the general mess of imprecision of feeling,

Undisciplined squads of emotion. And what there is to conquer

By strength and submission, has already been discovered

Once or twice, or several times, by men whom one cannot hope

To emulate - but there is no competition There

is only the fight to recover what has been lost

And found and lost again and again: and now, under conditions

That seem unpropitious. But perhaps neither gain nor loss.

For us, there is only the trying. The rest is not our business.

 

Home is where one starts from. As we grow older

the world becomes stranger, the pattern more complicated

Of dead and living. Not the intense moment

Isolated, with no before and after,

But a lifetime burning in every moment

And not the lifetime of one man only

But of old stones that cannot be deciphered.

There is a time for the evening under starlight,

A time for the evening under lamplight

(The evening with the photograph album).

Love is most nearly itself

When here and now cease to matter.

Old men ought to be explorers

Here or there does not matter

We must be still and still moving

Into another intensity

For a further union, a deeper communion

Through the dark cold and the empty desolation,

The wave cry, the wind cry, the vast waters

Of the petrel and the porpoise. In my end is my beginning.

五.

那么,我在这里,人生的中途,已有二十年——

二十年大半虚度——处在两次世界大战之间,

曾学着使用语言,而每次尝试

都是全新的开始,和全新的失败,

因为人必须让语言朝向更高处,

而无须重复那不是必须言说之物,或不去使用

你早已不想再用的形式。所以,每次冒险

都是一次新的开始,一次进攻

用可怜的装备向口齿不清发起反抗;

但却在一团模糊的印象和感觉中,

在一系列无序的激情中,败退下来。

而那所要征服的——用勇气和妥协——

早已被那些无法企及的先辈所揭示,

一次,   两次,甚至多次。——但这其中不存在竞争,

唯一的战斗是要重获所失,

寻得,再失去,一次又一次:而且现在,似乎正处于

很不走运的情形中。也许既无所得,也无所失。

对于我们,唯一的就是尝试。剩下的与我们无关。

 

家是一个人出发地方。当我们老去

世界变得更为陌生,生死之路

变得更加难解。不是那孤立的

无前也无后的激情瞬间,

而是每时每刻都在燃烧的一生,

甚至不仅是一个人的一生,

而是所有那些我们无法破译的古老石碑。

在星光下的夜晚

在灯光下的夜晚

(在灯下翻看相册的夜晚)

当此时与此地停止喧嚣,

爱最接近它自己。

老人应是先行者

这里还是那里无关紧要

我们必须在静止中前行,

进入另一次激情

——更进一步的联合,更深入的沟通

穿越严寒和虚空荒芜,

波涛呼啸,狂风哀嚎,海燕和

海豚的浩淼的大海。在我的结束中,是我的开始。

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