西尔维亚·普拉斯：摘黑莓
SY / 译
摘黑莓
无人的小巷，什么也没有，除了黑莓，
两边都是黑莓，大大都簇在右首，
黑莓巷，盘曲而下，海
荡漾在它尽途。黑莓
大似我拇指头，寂静如眼睛
树篱中的乌木，涨满
蓝红的汁浆。众多在我指头。
我不曾期冀亲如姊妹那般友谊；它们必然爱我。
压平本身，它们拆进我的奶瓶。
乌鸦飞过甚顶，嘈杂的一群--
纸焚后的余烬飞旋在被炸毁的天空。
仅听它们的声音，在抗议，抗议。
我想海底子不会呈现。
绿色的高草地闪烁，似乎里面被点燃。
我看见一树的浆果熟得恰似满树飞蝇，
它们蓝绿的肚皮和翼片挂在一具中国式的屏风。
浆果的蜜宴惊怔了它们；它们心服天堂。
再拐一弯，果丛末行。
如今前方只要海。
一阵骤风自双丘间向我汇袭，
将它无形的换洗冲我迎面猛掷。
那些山丘翠绿清新，不经海风。
我沿行在丘间的羊道。最初一折将我带
到山丘的北面，那面是赤黄岩
朝向无它，浩荡的空间
全是白光锡光，喧闹好像银匠
一击一击锤打在一块难加工的金属。
Blackberrying
Sylvia Plath (1932-1963)
Nobody in the lane, and nothing, nothing but blackberries,
Blackberries on either side, though on the right mainly,
A blackberry alley, going down in hooks, and a sea
Somewhere at the end of it, heaving. Blackberries
Big as the ball of my thumb, and dumb as eyes
Ebon in the hedges, fat
With blue-red juices. These they squander on my fingers.
I had not asked for such a blood sisterhood; they must love me.
They accommodate themselves to my milkbottle, flattening their sides.
Overhead go the choughs in black, cacophonous flocks --
Bits of burnt paper wheeling in a blown sky.
Theirs is the only voice, protesting, protesting.
I do not think the sea will appear at all.
The high, green meadows are glowing, as if lit from within.
I come to one bush of berries so ripe it is a bush of flies,
Hanging their bluegreen bellies and their wing panes in a Chinese screen.
The honey-feast of the berries has stunned them; they believe in heaven.
One more hook, and the berries and bushes end.
The only thing to come now is the sea.
From between two hills a sudden wind funnels at me,
Slapping its phantom laundry in my face.
These hills are too green and sweet to have tasted salt.
I follow the sheep path between them. A last hook brings me
To the hills’ northern face, and the face is orange rock
That looks out on nothing, nothing but a great space
Of white and pewter lights, and a din like silversmiths
Beating and beating at an intractable metal.