以撒坐在秋千上

Isaac sat on the swing

在那平静的长廊

On his slaked wooden porch

目光掠过一片田野

Looking out past a field

那儿羊群在吃草。

where fat sheep grazed.

耕种后的田野遥遥延伸

The tilled field ended

直到一处纠结的篱笆

with a twisted fence

那之后是彼此缠绕的老橡树

beyond which old oaks intertwined

如此便被西斜的夕光

so that slant western light

裸照着。

barely shone through.

他听见一声悲鸣

He heard a wail unwind

从昏暗的树林中传来，

From the obscuring trees,

想着那一定是

Assuming it must be

某种被猎之物。

some preyed-on animal.

The porch’s overhang

长廊的垂檐

Sheltered vexed Isaac from

庇护着不安的以撒

The sleeting rain and wind,

免于雨雪和风暴的侵袭，

From humid summer heat

免于那无风的晚近时刻

Of that late breezeless hour,

来自夏日的湿热，

But could not shelter him

却不能庇护他

From his own thoughts

免于自己的思想

Because one can’t think not to think

因为一个人无法想要不去思想

Or choose to block our memory,

或是决意阻断记忆，

But more because what burdened him,

但更是因为那负累于他的，

I must assume,

我想，

Was inescapable uncertainty—

是难以逃脱的无常――

Like weather in his mind—

就像他心中的气候

For nothing that he could define.

没有什么是他能够去限定的

His memory surged back

To when he told a joke about

他的记忆涌流

A crippled man,

回到那时，当他调笑

Cuckolded by his wife,

一个残疾人，

Forgetting that there was

正被妻子的不贞所负，

A short, clubfooted man there in the room,

他忘记了，在房间里的

And he was overwhelmed

是一个矮小、畸足的男人，

By his incredible stupidity

他被自己难以置信的蠢行

When tidal silence

覆没

Rippled through the audience.

潮水般的沉默

How many times had he seen

在观者之间起伏

Needless pain inflicted by

Somebody unaware,

多少次他曾看见

Without intention to cause hurt?

那由无意的毁损

We just don’t ever know enough,

所带来的

Or have sufficient time

无益的痛苦？

To think enough, Isaac

我们从未足够认识，

Commiserated to himself,

或有充裕的时间

Or maybe some occurrences,

足够思想，以撒

Isaac half wished,

安慰着自己，

Are best not understood

或许一些事故，

Or best just left to accident.

那出自他不完全的意愿的，

Perhaps the vague remorse—

最好不被理解

If that was that he felt—

或是留给偶然。

Was larger, more impersonal:

The failure to alleviate

这模糊的悔恨――

A stranger’s suffering

如果那是他所感到的――

Or take that starved cat in

也许更大，更客观：

Who’s rubbing bleakly

无力去

Up against the window pane?

减缓一个陌生人的痛苦

Yet was such suffering

或是收留那只

Inseparable from

在窗玻璃上

Some deep, inscrutable design

悲哀地擦着爪子的猫？

Like that cry from the woods

Or his unwilled stupidity?

然而这样的痛苦

Why blame himself,

与某种深刻而难言的计划

He surely must have thought,

不可分离

For what has always been

就像那树林里的悲鸣

Unchangeable—

或他自己无意的蠢行？

Like causing unintended pain,

为什么自责，

Like wishing not to think

他一定思索过了，

The thoughts one thinks?

是为了那从来都

And Isaac’s memory flew back

不变更之物――

To when he was a boy before

就像招致不期然的痛苦，

The soldiers came,

就像希望不去思想

To when his father took

那正被思想的？

The silver candelabrum

That his grandfather

以撒的记忆涌流

Had polished every year

回到那时，当他还是个男孩子

To celebrate the feast of lights,

在士兵来临之前，

And, for protection,

他的父亲取出

Buried it within the woods.

他外祖父

He knows he cannot know

每年都擦亮了

Himself, and Isaac

用来庆祝圣烛节的

Could not figure out, although

银烛台，

He must have tried,

为了安全，

Whether his dark-eyed father

把它埋在树林里。

Dug the candelabrum out

After the shouting soldiers left,

他知道他无法认识

Nor could he find a reason why

他自己，尽管尝试过

His father might

以撒

Have left it there to merge

仍猜不出，

With other fossils of defeat,

他那黑眼睛的父亲

As if it were a sacrifice

是否在叫喊着的士兵离开之后

To the unknown, without

又掘出了那支烛台，

An explanation

他也找不出一个理由可以解释

That could ease a young man’s mind.

为什么他的父亲

也许已经把它留在那儿

与其他失败的遗迹融为一体，

仿佛它是

未知之物的祭品，

没有任何解释

能够抚慰一个年轻人的心。