1960年圣诞,失去儿子后的我面对月亮的残骸张文武 译

Having Lost My Sons, I Confront the Wreckage of the Moon: Christmas, 1960詹姆斯·赖特


天黑之后,
After dark
在南达科他州边界附近,
Near the South Dakota border,
月亮出来到各处狩猎,
The moon is out hunting, everywhere,
载着火,
Delivering fire,
从钻石的门廊上
And walking down hallways
走下来。
Of a diamond.

它在一棵树后,
Behind a tree,
一座白城的
It ights on the ruins
废墟上空照耀着,
Of a white city
结霜的白色之城。
Frost, frost.

曾在那里生活的人们
Where are they gone
都去了哪里?
Who lived there?

在许多翅膀和黑暗的面孔下,
Bundled away under wings
仓皇离去。
And dark faces.

对此我已经
I am sick
厌倦,我继续
Of it, and I go on
生活,孤独地生活,
Living, alone, alone,
经过那些烧焦的筒仓,经过
Past the charred silos, past the hidden graves
齐佩瓦人和挪威人湮没的墓穴。
Of Chippewas and Norwegians.

这个寒冷的冬天,
This cold winter
月亮溢出冰冷的宝石的
Moon spills the inhuman fire
火焰,
Of jewels
落进我的手里。
Into my hands.

死去的财富,死去的双手,月亮
Dead riches, dead hands, the moon
暗下去,
Darkens,
我迷失在美洲
And I am lost in the beautiful white ruins
美丽的白色废墟中。
Of America.


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