一層油漆

【美】約翰·阿什貝利　? ?陳子弘 譯

看來我們都得再堅持堅持，
現在似乎就那樣。或許意味著“提前退休”
對某些人而言，哪怕只是一下午瞎逛逛
買點鞋帶之類。這或者可能指在某
魔法師的洞穴里待一須臾，醒來時已過幾個世紀
你頓覺奇妙神清氣爽，急于要返回到
填字游戲，只是沒人知道你的名字
或究竟你是誰，或真在意這個。去誘使
事實變成物體，一個討喜的，帶有點
美學品質，還能給知識儲備添磚
加瓦甚至延伸到歷史的幾個
層面，如一根針穿過斷裂的腕骨，
以如此動態的方式連接這些，迫使人
承認一種新的優越感，沒有它世界的
業務就無法運作，就算簡單從井里
取水回家，鏟煤碳到爐邊，當然會是
其最優形式，但無論如何事情必須
成形，要產生點什么，否則我們
剩下的只有分歧、相嫌，諸如此類。
哦，你沒看到親歷有多么必要嗎，
被渡船從這里運到咫尺處微笑的岸邊
再返回那些愛我們的人的懷抱，
雖不多，卻有無限、脫俗的甜蜜
他們的謊言為我們吐露，變得蓬首垢面，
最終以一種惱人的鍍金方式，變成
真理加點余料，如星星般精致而黯淡，
如一滴牛奶般瞻前顧后，以至于讓我們
逃脫這些，有些人確實做到了？

詩人簡介：約翰·阿什貝利（John Ashbery，1927年7月28日–2017年9月3日）是美國當代最杰出的詩人之一，被譽為20世紀后半葉英語詩歌的代表人物。他出生于紐約州羅切斯特，在哈佛大學和哥倫比亞大學接受教育，后成為“紐約派”詩歌運動的核心人物之一。阿什貝利的作品以其復雜的語言、創新的形式和對日常經驗的深刻反思而著稱，影響了無數后輩詩人。晚年的阿什貝利依然保持旺盛的創作力，出版了《Where Shall I Wander》（2005）等詩集。他以對語言的革新和對現代生活的敏銳觀察，贏得“美國桂冠詩人”（2011-2012）的殊榮。阿什貝利不僅是詩歌巨匠，也是文化與藝術交匯處的重要聲音。

JOHN ASHBERY

One Coat of Paint

We will all have to just hang on for awhile,
It seems, now. This could mean “early retirement”
For some, if only for an afternoon of pottering around
Buying shoelaces and the like. Or it could mean a spell
In some enchanter’s cave, after several centuries of which
You wake up curiously refreshed, eager to get back
To the crossword puzzle, only no one knows your name
Or who you are, really, or cares much either. To seduce
A fact into becoming an object, a pleasing one, with some
Kind of esthetic quality, which would also add to the store
Of knowledge and even extend through several strata
Of history, like a pin through a cracked wrist-bone,
Connecting these in such a dynamic way that one would be forced
To acknowledge a new kind of superiority without which the world
Could no longer conduct its business, even simple stuff like bringing
Water home from wells, coals to hearths, would of course be
An optimal form of it but in any case the thing’s got to
Come into being, something has to happen, or all
We'll have left is disagreements, désagréments, to name a few.
Oh don’t you see how necessary it is to be around,
To be ferried from here to that near, smiling shore
And back again into the arms of those that love us,
Not many, but of such infinite, superior sweetness
That their lie is for us and it becomes stained, encrusted,
Finally gilded in some exasperating way that turns it
To a truth plus something, delicate and dismal as a star,
Cautious as a drop of milk, so that they let us
Get away with it, some do at any rate?

? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? from Shenandoah