惠特曼《我自己的歌》
I celebrate myself, and sing myself,
And what I assume you shall assume,
For every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you.
I lean and loafe at my ease observing a spear of summer grass.
My tongue, every atom of my blood, form'd from this soil, this air,
Born here of parents born here from parents the same, and their parents the same,
I, now thirty-seven years old in perfect health begin,
Hoping to cease not till death.
Creeds and schools in abeyance,
Retiring back a while sufficed at what they are, but never forgotten,
I harbor for good or bad, I permit to speak at every hazard,
Nature without check with original energy.
2
Houses and rooms are full of perfumes, the shelves are crowded with perfumes,
I breathe the fragrance myself and know it and like it,
The distillation would intoxicate me also, but I shall not let it.
The atmosphere is not a perfume, it has no taste of the distillation, it is odorless,
It is for my mouth forever, I am in love with it,
I will go to the bank by the wood and become undisguised and naked,
I am mad for it to be in contact with me.
The smoke of my own breath,
Echoes, ripples, buzz'd whispers, love-root, silk-thread, crotch and vine,
My respiration and inspiration, the beating of my heart, the passing of blood and air through my lungs,
The sniff of green leaves and dry leaves, and of the shore and dark-color'd sea-rocks, and of hay in the barn,
The sound of the belch'd words of my voice loos'd to the eddies of the wind,
A few light kisses, a few embraces, a reaching around of arms,
The play of shine and shade on the trees as the supple boughs wag,
The delight alone or in the rush of the streets, or along the fields and hill-sides,
The feeling of health, the full-noon trill, the song of me rising from bed and meeting the sun.
Have you reckon'd a thousand acres much? have you reckon'd the earth much?
Have you practis'd so long to learn to read?
Have you felt so proud to get at the meaning of poems?
Stop this day and night with me and you shall possess the origin of all poems,
You shall possess the good of the earth and sun, (there are millions of suns left,)
You shall no longer take things at second or third hand, nor look through the eyes of the dead, nor feed on the spectres in books,
You shall not look through my eyes either, nor take things from me,
You shall listen to all sides and filter them from your self.
6
A child said What is the grass? fetching it to me with full hands;
How could I answer the child? I do not know what it is any more than he.
I guess it must be the flag of my disposition, out of hopeful green stuff woven.
Or I guess it is the handkerchief of the Lord,
A scented gift and remembrancer designedly dropt,
Bearing the owner's name someway in the corners, that we may see and remark, and say Whose?
Or I guess the grass is itself a child, the produced babe of the vegetation.
Or I guess it is a uniform hieroglyphic,
And it means, Sprouting alike in broad zones and narrow zones,
Growing among black folks as among white,
Kanuck, Tuckahoe, Congressman, Cuff, I give them the same, I receive them the same.
And now it seems to me the beautiful uncut hair of graves.
Tenderly will I use you curling grass,
It may be you transpire from the breasts of young men,
It may be if I had known them I would have loved them,
It may be you are from old people, or from offspring taken soon out of their mothers' laps,
And here you are the mothers' laps.
This grass is very dark to be from the white heads of old mothers,
Darker than the colorless beards of old men,
Dark to come from under the faint red roofs of mouths.
O I perceive after all so many uttering tongues,
And I perceive they do not come from the roofs of mouths for nothing.
I wish I could translate the hints about the dead young men and women,
And the hints about old men and mothers, and the offspring taken soon out of their laps.
What do you think has become of the young and old men?
And what do you think has become of the women and children?
They are alive and well somewhere,
The smallest sprout shows there is really no death,
And if ever there was it led forward life, and does not wait at the end to arrest it,
And ceas'd the moment life appear'd.
All goes onward and outward, nothing collapses,
And to die is different from what any one supposed, and luckier.
7
Has any one supposed it lucky to be born?
I hasten to inform him or her it is just as lucky to die, and I know it.
I pass death with the dying and birth with the new-wash'd babe, and am not contain'd between my hat and boots,
And peruse manifold objects, no two alike and every one good,
The earth good and the stars good, and their adjuncts all good.
I am not an earth nor an adjunct of an earth,
I am the mate and companion of people, all just as immortal and fathomless as myself,
(They do not know how immortal, but I know.)
Every kind for itself and its own, for me mine male and female,
For me those that have been boys and that love women,
For me the man that is proud and feels how it stings to be slighted,
For me the sweet-heart and the old maid, for me mothers and the mothers of mothers,
For me lips that have smiled, eyes that have shed tears,
For me children and the begetters of children.
Undrape! you are not guilty to me, nor stale nor discarded,
I see through the broadcloth and gingham whether or no,
And am around, tenacious, acquisitive, tireless, and cannot be shaken away.
8
The little one sleeps in its cradle,
I lift the gauze and look a long time, and silently brush away flies with my hand.
The youngster and the red-faced girl turn aside up the bushy hill,
I peeringly view them from the top.
The suicide sprawls on the bloody floor of the bedroom,
I witness the corpse with its dabbled hair, I note where the pistol has fallen.
The blab of the pave, tires of carts, sluff of boot-soles, talk of the promenaders,
The heavy omnibus, the driver with his interrogating thumb, the clank of the shod horses on the granite floor,
The snow-sleighs, clinking, shouted jokes, pelts of snow-balls,
The hurrahs for popular favorites, the fury of rous'd mobs,
The flap of the curtain'd litter, a sick man inside borne to the hospital,
The meeting of enemies, the sudden oath, the blows and fall,
The excited crowd, the policeman with his star quickly working his passage to the centre of the crowd,
The impassive stones that receive and return so many echoes,
What groans of over-fed or half-starv'd who fall sunstruck or in fits,
What exclamations of women taken suddenly who hurry home and give birth to babes,
What living and buried speech is always vibrating here, what howls restrain'd by decorum,
Arrests of criminals, slights, adulterous offers made, acceptances, rejections with convex lips,
I mind them or the show or resonance of them—I come and I depart.
10
Alone far in the wilds and mountains I hunt,
Wandering amazed at my own lightness and glee,
In the late afternoon choosing a safe spot to pass the night,
Kindling a fire and broiling the fresh-kill'd game,
Falling asleep on the gather'd leaves with my dog and gun by my side.
The Yankee clipper is under her sky-sails, she cuts the sparkle and scud,
My eyes settle the land, I bend at her prow or shout joyously from the deck.
The boatmen and clam-diggers arose early and stopt for me,
I tuck'd my trowser-ends in my boots and went and had a good time;
You should have been with us that day round the chowder-kettle.
I saw the marriage of the trapper in the open air in the far west, the bride was a red girl,
Her father and his friends sat near cross-legged and dumbly smoking, they had moccasins to their feet and large thick blankets hanging from their shoulders,
On a bank lounged the trapper, he was drest mostly in skins, his luxuriant beard and curls protected his neck, he held his bride by the hand,
She had long eyelashes, her head was bare, her coarse straight locks descended upon her voluptuous limbs and reach'd to her feet.
The runaway slave came to my house and stopt outside,
I heard his motions crackling the twigs of the woodpile,
Through the swung half-door of the kitchen I saw him limpsy and weak,
And went where he sat on a log and led him in and assured him,
And brought water and fill'd a tub for his sweated body and bruis'd feet,
And gave him a room that enter'd from my own, and gave him some coarse clean clothes,
And remember perfectly well his revolving eyes and his awkwardness,
And remember putting plasters on the galls of his neck and ankles;
He staid with me a week before he was recuperated and pass'd north,
I had him sit next me at table, my fire-lock lean'd in the corner.
11
Twenty-eight young men bathe by the shore,
Twenty-eight young men and all so friendly;
Twenty-eight years of womanly life and all so lonesome.
She owns the fine house by the rise of the bank,
She hides handsome and richly drest aft the blinds of the window.
Which of the young men does she like the best?
Ah the homeliest of them is beautiful to her.
Where are you off to, lady? for I see you,
You splash in the water there, yet stay stock still in your room.
Dancing and laughing along the beach came the twenty-ninth bather,
The rest did not see her, but she saw them and loved them.
The beards of the young men glisten'd with wet, it ran from their long hair,
Little streams pass'd all over their bodies.
An unseen hand also pass'd over their bodies,
It descended tremblingly from their temples and ribs.
The young men float on their backs, their white bellies bulge to the sun, they do not ask who seizes fast to them,
They do not know who puffs and declines with pendant and bending arch,
They do not think whom they souse with spray.
14
The wild gander leads his flock through the cool night,
Ya-honk he says, and sounds it down to me like an invitation,
The pert may suppose it meaningless, but I listening close,
Find its purpose and place up there toward the wintry sky.
The sharp-hoof'd moose of the north, the cat on the house-sill, the chickadee, the prairie-dog,
The litter of the grunting sow as they tug at her teats,
The brood of the turkey-hen and she with her half-spread wings,
I see in them and myself the same old law.
The press of my foot to the earth springs a hundred affections,
They scorn the best I can do to relate them.
I am enamour'd of growing out-doors,
Of men that live among cattle or taste of the ocean or woods,
Of the builders and steerers of ships and the wielders of axes and mauls, and the drivers of horses,
I can eat and sleep with them week in and week out.
What is commonest, cheapest, nearest, easiest, is Me,
Me going in for my chances, spending for vast returns,
Adorning myself to bestow myself on the first that will take me,
Not asking the sky to come down to my good will,
Scattering it freely forever.
18
With music strong I come, with my cornets and my drums,
I play not marches for accepted victors only, I play marches for conquer'd and slain persons.
Have you heard that it was good to gain the day?
I also say it is good to fall, battles are lost in the same spirit in which they are won.
I beat and pound for the dead,
I blow through my embouchures my loudest and gayest for them.
Vivas to those who have fail'd!
And to those whose war-vessels sank in the sea!
And to those themselves who sank in the sea!
And to all generals that lost engagements, and all overcome heroes!
And the numberless unknown heroes equal to the greatest heroes known!
21
I am the poet of the Body and I am the poet of the Soul,
The pleasures of heaven are with me and the pains of hell are with me,
The first I graft and increase upon myself, the latter I translate into a new tongue.
I am the poet of the woman the same as the man,
And I say it is as great to be a woman as to be a man,
And I say there is nothing greater than the mother of men.
I chant the chant of dilation or pride,
We have had ducking and deprecating about enough,
I show that size is only development.
Have you outstript the rest? are you the President?
It is a trifle, they will more than arrive there every one, and still pass on.
I am he that walks with the tender and growing night,
I call to the earth and sea half-held by the night.
Press close bare-bosom'd night—press close magnetic nourishing night!
Night of south winds—night of the large few stars!
Still nodding night—mad naked summer night.
Smile O voluptuous cool-breath'd earth!
Earth of the slumbering and liquid trees!
Earth of departed sunset—earth of the mountains misty-topt!
Earth of the vitreous pour of the full moon just tinged with blue!
Earth of shine and dark mottling the tide of the river!
Earth of the limpid gray of clouds brighter and clearer for my sake!
Far-swooping elbow'd earth—rich apple-blossom'd earth!
Smile, for your lover comes.
Prodigal, you have given me love—therefore I to you give love!
O unspeakable passionate love.
23
Endless unfolding of words of ages!
And mine a word of the modern, the word En-Masse.
A word of the faith that never balks,
Here or henceforward it is all the same to me, I accept Time absolutely.
It alone is without flaw, it alone rounds and completes all,
That mystic baffling wonder alone completes all.
I accept Reality and dare not question it,
Materialism first and last imbuing.
Hurrah for positive science! long live exact demonstration!
Fetch stonecrop mixt with cedar and branches of lilac,
This is the lexicographer, this the chemist, this made a grammar of the old cartouches,
These mariners put the ship through dangerous unknown seas,
This is the geologist, this works with the scalpel, and this is a mathematician.
Gentlemen, to you the first honors always!
Your facts are useful, and yet they are not my dwelling,
I but enter by them to an area of my dwelling.
Less the reminders of properties told my words,
And more the reminders they of life untold, and of freedom and extrication,
And make short account of neuters and geldings, and favor men and women fully equipt,
And beat the gong of revolt, and stop with fugitives and them that plot and conspire.
32
I think I could turn and live with animals, they're so placid and self-contain'd,
I stand and look at them long and long.
They do not sweat and whine about their condition,
They do not lie awake in the dark and weep for their sins,
They do not make me sick discussing their duty to God,
Not one is dissatisfied, not one is demented with the mania of owning things,
Not one kneels to another, nor to his kind that lived thousands of years ago,
Not one is respectable or unhappy over the whole earth.
So they show their relations to me and I accept them,
They bring me tokens of myself, they evince them plainly in their possession.
I wonder where they get those tokens,
Did I pass that way huge times ago and negligently drop them?
Myself moving forward then and now and forever,
Gathering and showing more always and with velocity,
Infinite and omnigenous, and the like of these among them,
Not too exclusive toward the reachers of my remembrancers,
Picking out here one that I love, and now go with him on brotherly terms.
A gigantic beauty of a stallion, fresh and responsive to my caresses,
Head high in the forehead, wide between the ears,
Limbs glossy and supple, tail dusting the ground,
Eyes full of sparkling wickedness, ears finely cut, flexibly moving.
His nostrils dilate as my heels embrace him,
His well-built limbs tremble with pleasure as we race around and return.
I but use you a minute, then I resign you, stallion,
Why do I need your paces when I myself out-gallop them?
Even as I stand or sit passing faster than you.
37
You laggards there on guard! look to your arms!
In at the conquer'd doors they crowd! I am possess'd!
Embody all presences outlaw'd or suffering,
See myself in prison shaped like another man,
And feel the dull unintermitted pain.
For me the keepers of convicts shoulder their carbines and keep watch,
It is I let out in the morning and barr'd at night.
Not a mutineer walks handcuff'd to jail but I am handcuff'd to him and walk by his side,
(I am less the jolly one there, and more the silent one with sweat on my twitching lips.)
Not a youngster is taken for larceny but I go up too, and am tried and sentenced.
Not a cholera patient lies at the last gasp but I also lie at the last gasp,
My face is ash-color'd, my sinews gnarl, away from me people retreat.
Askers embody themselves in me and I am embodied in them,
I project my hat, sit shame-faced, and beg.
46
I know I have the best of time and space, and was never measured and never will be measured.
I tramp a perpetual journey, (come listen all!)
My signs are a rain-proof coat, good shoes, and a staff cut from the woods,
No friend of mine takes his ease in my chair,
I have no chair, no church, no philosophy,
I lead no man to a dinner-table, library, exchange,
But each man and each woman of you I lead upon a knoll,
My left hand hooking you round the waist,
My right hand pointing to landscapes of continents and the public road.
Not I, not any one else can travel that road for you,
You must travel it for yourself.
It is not far, it is within reach,
Perhaps you have been on it since you were born and did not know,
Perhaps it is everywhere on water and on land.
Shoulder your duds dear son, and I will mine, and let us hasten forth,
Wonderful cities and free nations we shall fetch as we go.
If you tire, give me both burdens, and rest the chuff of your hand on my hip,
And in due time you shall repay the same service to me,
For after we start we never lie by again.
This day before dawn I ascended a hill and look'd at the crowded heaven,
And I said to my spirit When we become the enfolders of those orbs, and the pleasure and knowledge of every thing in them, shall we be fill'd and satisfied then?
And my spirit said No, we but level that lift to pass and continue beyond.
You are also asking me questions and I hear you,
I answer that I cannot answer, you must find out for yourself.
Sit a while dear son,
Here are biscuits to eat and here is milk to drink,
But as soon as you sleep and renew yourself in sweet clothes,
I kiss you with a good-by kiss and open the gate for your egress hence.
Long enough have you dream'd contemptible dreams,
Now I wash the gum from your eyes,
You must habit yourself to the dazzle of the light and of every moment of your life.
Long have you timidly waded holding a plank by the shore,
Now I will you to be a bold swimmer,
To jump off in the midst of the sea, rise again, nod to me, shout, and laughingly dash with your hair.
51
The past and present wilt—I have fill'd them, emptied them,
And proceed to fill my next fold of the future.
Listener up there! what have you to confide to me?
Look in my face while I snuff the sidle of evening,
(Talk honestly, no one else hears you, and I stay only a minute longer.)
Do I contradict myself?
Very well then I contradict myself,
(I am large, I contain multitudes.)
I concentrate toward them that are nigh, I wait on the door-slab.
Who has done his day's work? who will soonest be through with his supper?
Who wishes to walk with me?
Will you speak before I am gone? will you prove already too late?
52
The spotted hawk swoops by and accuses me, he complains of my gab and my loitering.
I too am not a bit tamed, I too am untranslatable,
I sound my barbaric yawp over the roofs of the world.
The last scud of day holds back for me,
It flings my likeness after the rest and true as any on the shadow'd wilds,
It coaxes me to the vapor and the dusk.
I depart as air, I shake my white locks at the runaway sun,
I effuse my flesh in eddies, and drift it in lacy jags.
I bequeath myself to the dirt to grow from the grass I love,
If you want me again look for me under your boot-soles.
You will hardly know who I am or what I mean,
But I shall be good health to you nevertheless,
And filter and fibre your blood.
Failing to fetch me at first keep encouraged,
Missing me one place search another,
I stop somewhere waiting for you.
我的舌,我血液的每个原子,是在这片土壤、这个空气里形成的,
我是生在这里的父母生下的,父母的父母也是在这里生下的,他们的父母也一样,
我,现在三十七岁,一开始身体就十分健康,
希望永不终止,直到死去。
信条和学派暂时不论,
且后退一步,明了它们当前的情况已足,但也决不是忘记,
不论我从善从恶,我允许随意发表意见,
顺乎自然,保持原始的活力。
二
屋里,室内充满了芳香,书架上也挤满了芳香,
我自己呼吸了香味,认识了它也喜欢它,
其精华也会使我醉倒,但我不容许这样。
大气不是一种芳香,没有香料的味道,它是无气味的,
它永远供我口用,我热爱它,
我要去林畔的河岸那里,脱去伪装,赤条条地,
我狂热地要它和我接触。
我自己呼吸的烟雾,
回声,细浪、窃窃私语、爱根、丝线、枝桠和藤蔓,
我的呼和吸,我心脏的跳动,通过我肺部畅流的血液和空气,
嗅到绿叶和枯叶,海岸和黑色的海边岩石和谷仓里的干草,
我喉咙里迸出辞句的声音飘散在风的旋涡里,
几次轻吻,几次拥抱,伸出两臂想搂住什么,
树枝的柔条摆动时光和影在树上的游戏,
独居,在闹市或沿着田地和山坡一带的乐趣,
健康之感,正午时的颤音,我从床上起来迎接太阳时唱的歌。
你认为一千英亩就很多了吗?你认为地球就很大了吗?
为了学会读书你练习了很久吗?
因为你想努力懂得诗歌的含意就感到十分自豪吗?
今天和今晚请和我在一起,你将明了所有诗歌的来源,
你将占有大地和太阳的好处(另外还有千百万个太阳),
你将不会再第二手、第三手地接受事物,也不会借死人的眼睛观察,或从书本中的幽灵那里汲取营养,
你也不会借我的眼睛观察,不会通过我而接受事物,
你将听取各个方面,由你自己过滤一切。
六
一个孩子说“这草是什么?”两手满满捧着它递给我看;
我哪能回答孩子呢?我和他一样,并不知道。
我猜它定是我性格的旗帜,是充满希望的绿色物质织成的。
我猜它或者是上帝的手帕,
是有意抛下的一件带有香味的礼物和纪念品,
四角附有物主的名字,是为了让我们看见又注意到,并且说,“是谁的?”
我猜想这草本身就是个孩子,是植物界生下的婴儿。
我猜它或者是一种统一的象形文字,
其含义是,在宽广或狭窄的地带都能长出新叶,
在黑人中间和白人中一样能成长,
凯纳克人,特卡荷人,国会议员,柯甫人,我给他们同样的东西,同样对待。 ⑥
它现在又似乎是墓地里未曾修剪过的秀发。
我要温柔地对待你,弯弯的青草,
你也许是青年人胸中吐出的,
也许我如果认识他们的话会热爱他们,
也许你是从老人那里来的,或来自即将离开母怀的后代,
在这里你就是母亲们的怀抱。
这枝草乌黑又乌黑,不可能来自年老母亲们的白头,
它比老年人的无色胡须还要乌黑,
乌黑得不像来自口腔的浅红上颚。
啊,我终于看到了那么许多说着话的舌头,
并看到它们不是无故从口腔的上颚出现的。
我深愿能翻译出那些有关已死青年男女们隐晦的提示,
和那些有关老人,母亲,和即将离开母怀的后代们的提示。
你想这些青年和老人们后来怎么样了?
你想这些妇女和孩子们后来怎么样了?
他们还在某个地方活着并且生活得很好,
那最小的幼芽说明世上其实并无死亡,
即使有,也会导致生命,不会等着在最后把它扼死,
而且生命一出现,死亡就终止。
一切都向前向外发展,无所谓溃灭,
死亡不像人们所想象的那样,不是那么不幸。
七
有人认为出生是幸运吗?
让我马上告诉他或她:死去也一样幸运,而且我知道。
我和垂危者经历了死亡,和新生儿经历了新生,不只局限在我的鞋帽之间,
我详细观察了多种事物,没有两者是相同的,每一种都很好,
大地是美好的,星星是美好的,附属于它们的一切也都美好。
我不是大地,也不是大地的附属物,
我是人们的共事者和同伴,一切都和我自己一样不死而且深不可测,
(他们不知道怎么会不死,但是我知道。)
每一物类都为的是它自己和本类,属我的男性和女性是为了我,
为我的还有那些曾经是少年而热爱女人的人们,
为我的还有那自尊心强的男子,他感觉到受轻慢时像针刺那样疼痛,
为我的有心爱的女友和那位老处女,为我的有母亲们和母亲们的母亲,
为我的有微笑过的嘴唇,流过泪的眼睛,
为我的有孩子们和生育孩子的人们。
揭去披盖吧!对我说来你是无罪的,既不陈旧,也未被抛弃。
我能透过平纹布和方格布而分辨究竟,
而且我永在现场,固执,渴求收获,不知疲倦,无法把我撵走。
八
小宝贝睡在摇篮里,
我揭开纱帐看了很久,用手轻轻赶走了苍蝇。
小青年和脸色绯红的少女转身走上了多灌木丛的山冈,
我在山巅端详着他们。
自杀者趴伏在卧室里血淋淋的地板上,
我目睹了尸体和它粘湿的头发,注意到手枪落在什么地方。
人行道上的乱嚼舌,车辆的轮胎,靴底上的污泥,散步者讲的话,
笨重的马车,车夫和他那举着向人问话的大拇指,马蹄走在花岗石上的得得声,
雪车的丁当声,大声说笑,雪球的来回投掷,
对群众喜爱的节目发出的喝彩声,激怒了的暴徒们的吼叫声,
担架上帘子的拍打声,里面抬着的是一个去医院的病人,
狭路相逢,突发的咒骂声,殴打和跌倒,
激动了的人群,佩着星章的警察迅速挤进了人堆的中心,
冷漠的顽石来回接送了许多回声,
有多少中暑跌倒或晕倒的过饱或半饱者发出了呻吟,
有多少妇女在突感阵痛时呼叫起来,急急回家去分娩,
何等样活跃和已被埋葬的言谈还在这里颤动,何等样的号叫声为礼教所节制,
罪犯被捕,受轻慢,勾引人们通奸,接受建议,用撅着的嘴唇拒绝,
我注意到这些或它们的表现或它们的余震——我来了又走了。
十
我独自在荒山野林里打猎,
到处遨游,对自己的轻松欢快感到惊讶,
黄昏时找一个安全的地方过夜,
点一把火,烧烤着新打来的野味,
在拾来的树叶上我睡着了,我的狗和枪在我身旁。
那扬基式的快艇挂着三层帆篷,它冲破了闪光和风吹散的浪花,
我眼望着陆地,在船头弯下腰来,或在甲板上大声欢呼。
船夫们和挖蛤蜊的起得很早,路过时约上了我,
我把裤腿塞在靴筒里,跟着去玩了一个痛快;
那天你也该和我们在一起,围坐在鱼杂烩的火锅旁边。
在遥远的西部,我看见捕兽人在露天举行婚礼,新娘是个红种人,
她父亲和他的朋友们在一旁,盘腿而坐,默不作声地抽着烟,他们脚上穿着鹿皮鞋,肩上披着宽大厚重的毛毡,
岸上安闲地坐着那捕兽人,穿的几乎全是皮块,浓重的胡子和鬈发护住了他的颈脖,他用手拉着他的新娘,
她睫毛长,头上没有遮盖,粗直的长发垂落在丰腴的四肢上,直挂到她的脚边。 ⑧
一个逃亡的黑奴来到我家并在外面站住了,
我听见他的响动声,他在折断着木柴堆上的细树枝,
从厨房半开的门里,我看见他四肢软弱无力,
我走到他坐在木料上的地方,引他进屋,让他放心,
又给他满满倒了一盆水,让他洗洗身上的汗渍和带着伤的两脚,
还给了他一间通过我自己房间的屋子,给了他几件干净的粗布衣服,
还清楚地记得他转动着的眼珠和局促不安的神态,
还记得用药膏涂抹了他的颈部和脚踝上的伤口;
他在我家住了一个星期,恢复了健康,继续北上,
进食时我让他坐在我身旁,墙角里倚着我的火枪。
十一
二十八个青年人在岸边洗澡,
二十八个青年个个都非常友好,
二十八年的女性生活又都是这样寂寞。
岸边高处的那所精舍是她的,
她美丽,穿着华贵的衣服,躲藏在窗帘背后。
在这些青年中她最喜欢哪一个?
啊,其中最丑的一个她也认为很美。
小姐,你打算到哪里去?我看得见你,
你在那边水里溅得水花四起,但是你待在你屋里却纹丝不动。
第二十九个前来洗澡,跳跃着、欢笑着沿着海滩而来,
其他的人看不见她,可是她看见了他们并且喜爱他们。
青年们的胡须上闪烁着水花,水珠从他们的长发上滚下来,
小小溪流淋遍了他们全身。
一只看不见的手也摸遍了他们的全身,
颤抖着顺着额边和肋骨而下。
青年们仰卧着漂在水上,他们的白肚皮鼓鼓地对着太阳,也不问是谁在紧紧地一把拉住他们,
他们不知道谁在低着头弯着腰微微喘气,
也没有去想水花溅湿了谁。
十四
野鹅领着鹅群飞过寒冷的夜空,
他说,“呀——哼,”传来的声音像是对我发出的邀请,
自作聪明者可能认为它毫无意义,但是我仔细倾听,
找到了它的用意和它在寒空中的地位。
北方的快蹄鹿,门槛上的猫,山雀,草原犬鼠,
吸着奶、在咕哝着的母猪身旁的小猪群,
火鸡的幼雏和半张着翅膀的母火鸡,
我在它们和自己身上看到了同一个古老法则。
我的脚一踏上大地就跳出一百种温情柔意,
它们蔑视我为描述它们而作出的最大努力。
我迷恋于在户外成长,
那些在牛马中生活的,那些尝到海洋或树林滋味的人,
造船和驾驶船只的人,挥动铁斧和大槌的人,和赶马的人,
我可以接连好几个星期和他们同吃同睡。
最平凡,最低贱,最靠拢,最容易接近的是“我”,
我寻找机会,为了巨大的收获而付出代价,
我装饰自己,把自己交托给第一个愿意接受我的人,
不要求上天下来俯就我的诚意,
而是永远无偿地把它四处散布。
十八
我让雄壮的音乐伴随着我前来,响起的是我的号和鼓,
我不单为公认的胜利者吹奏进行曲,我也为战败和被杀者吹奏。
你曾经听说大获全胜是件好事,对吗?
我说溃败也是好事,战役的失利和胜利出自同样的精神。
我为死者击鼓奏乐,
我通过管乐器的吹口为他们吹奏最响亮最欢畅的管乐。
失败的人们万岁!
战舰沉没在海里的人们万岁!
自己也沉没在海里的人们万岁!
所有在战役中失利的将军们和被征服的英雄们万岁!
无数无名英雄和最伟大的知名英雄完全平等!
二十一
我是肉体的诗人也是灵魂的诗人,
我占有天堂的愉快也占有地狱的苦痛,
前者我把它嫁接在自己身上使它增殖,后者我把它翻译成一种新的语言。
我既是男子的诗人也是妇女的诗人,
我是说作为妇女和作为男子同样伟大,
我是说再没有比人们的母亲更加伟大的。
我歌颂“扩张”或“骄傲”,
我们已经低头求免得够了,
我是在说明体积只不过是发展的结果。
你已经远远超越了其余的人吗?你是总统吗?
这是微不足道的,人人会越过此点而继续前进。
我是那和温柔而渐渐昏暗的黑夜一同行走的人,
我向着那被黑夜掌握了一半的大地和海洋呼唤。
请紧紧靠拢,袒露着胸脯的夜啊——紧紧靠拢吧,富于魅力和营养的黑夜!
南风的夜——有着巨大疏星的夜!
寂静而打着瞌睡的夜——疯狂而赤身裸体的夏夜啊。
微笑吧!啊,妖娆的、气息清凉的大地!
生长着沉睡而饱含液汁的树木的大地!
夕阳已西落的大地——山巅被雾气覆盖着的大地!
满月的晶体微带蓝色的大地!
河里的潮水掩映着光照和黑暗的大地!
为了我而更加明澈的灰色云彩笼罩着的大地!
远远的高山连着平原的大地——长满苹果花的大地!
微笑吧,你的情人来了。
浪子,你给了我爱情——因此我也给你爱情!
啊,难以言传的、炽热的爱情。
二十三
历代留下的词句不断展现在眼前!
我的是一个现代词,“全体”这个词。
这个词标志着坚定不移的信仰,
此时或今后对我都是一样,我无条件地接受“时间”。
只有它无懈可击,只有它圆满地完成一切,
只有那神秘而使人困惑的奇迹才完成一切。
我接受“现实”,不敢对它提出疑问,
唯物主义贯彻始终。
为实证的科学欢呼!准确的论证万岁!
把掺和着杉木与丁香枝的景天草取来吧,
这是辞典编纂者,这是化学师,这人编了一部古文字的语法,
这些水手使船只安全驶过了危险的无名海域,
这是地质学家,这是手术刀使用者,这是个数学家。
先生们,最高荣誉永远属于你们!
你们的事实很有用,但它们却不是我居住的地方,
我只是通过它们进入我居住的区域。
我词汇里涉及属性的比较少,
更多的是涉及未曾揭晓过的生活,自由和解脱羁绊,
轻视的是中性和阉割了的事物,表彰的是机能完备的男子和妇女,
还敲起那号召叛乱的锣鼓,与亡命徒和密谋造反的人们在一起逗留。
三十二
我想我能够转而和动物生活在一起,它们是这样淡泊又自满自足,
我站着将它们观察了很久很久。
它们并不为它们的处境挥汗又哀号,
它们并不为自己的罪过哭泣而在黑暗中通宵不眠,
它们并不议论它们对上帝应尽的责任而使我生厌,
没有一个感到不满足,没有一个犯有严重的占有狂,
没有一个向另一个屈膝,也不向一个生活在数千年前的同类屈膝,
整个地球上没有哪一个是体面的或愁苦的。
它们向我如此表明了和我的关系,我接受了下来,
它们给我带来的是我自己的各种代号,并且明白地告诉我已在它们的掌握之中。
我惊讶那些代号它们是从哪里得来的,
莫非我曾经老早走过那地方,漫不经心地把它们丢下了?
彼时此时乃至永远,我自己总在向前移动着,
一直在以高速度收集并展示着更多的东西,
无穷无尽,无所不包,在它们中间也有和它们类似的,
并不过分排斥我的记忆所及,
还在这里选中了我所喜爱的一个;此时和他像兄弟般在一起行动。
一匹雄壮健美的骏马,精神抖擞,对我的抚爱又有所反应,
它额骨高耸,两耳之间宽广,
肢体光滑而又柔顺,尾巴扫地,
两眼闪烁着机警,耳朵轮廓俊美,灵巧地抖动着。
我的两踵抱紧它时它的鼻孔张开,
我们飞跑一圈而还归时它那匀称的肢体因喜悦而微微颤抖。
我只使用了你一分钟就即刻将你交出,骏马啊,
我自己能超出你的速度时又何需请你代步?
即使我在站着或坐下时也比你更加快速。
三十七
你们这些站着岗的懒虫!注意你们手中的武器!
他们挤进了被攻下的大门!我被迷住了心窍!
我化身为所有的亡命徒或受苦的人,
看见我自己在狱中换成了另一人的形状,
而且感受到了那单调的、持续不断的疼痛。
为了我,那监视犯人的守卫扛着卡宾枪警戒着,
那早上放出、晚上关进的就是我。
没有一个戴上手铐走进监狱的叛变者不是连我也和他铐在一起在他身旁走着,
(我比不上那里那快活的人,而是更像那个沉默的人,我抽搐着的唇边挂着汗珠。)
没有一个小青年因盗窃罪被捕而不是连带我也走上前去受审判并被定了罪。
没有一个患霍乱的在躺着咽他最后一口气时不是有我也躺着咽最后的一口,
我面如土色,肌肉扭曲,人们从我的身边走开。
有所求的人们借托我的形体,我则借托他们的形体,
我拿着帽子伸出手来,脸上含羞,坐着乞讨。
四十六
我知道我享有最优越的时间与空间,而且从来没有被衡量过也不可能衡量。
我踏上的是一次永恒的旅行,(请都来听一听吧!)
我的标志是一件防雨大衣,一双耐穿的鞋,从树林里砍来的一根手杖,
我没有朋友坐在我椅子上休息,
我没有椅子,没有教堂,没有哲学,
我没有带过人到饭桌旁,图书馆,交易所,
但是你们中的每个男女我都引着去一个小山头,
我的左手钩住你的腰,
我的右手指着各个大陆的景致和那条康庄大道。
我不能,也没有谁能代替你走那条路,
你必须自己去走。
路并不远,在你的能力范围之内,
也许你出世以后曾经走过,只是自己不知道,
也许水上、陆上到处都是它。
扛起你的衣服吧,亲爱的儿子,我也扛着我的,让我们快些向前走吧,
我们沿途会路过美妙的城市和自由的国土。
如果你累了就把两个包都给我,把你的手掌放在我的腰际,
到了适当的时候你也会同样为我服务,
因为我们出发以后就再也不会躺下休息了。
今天在破晓之前我登上了一座小山望着那拥挤的天空,
我对我的精灵说:“我们一旦拥有了这些星斗,和它们所赐予的每一件事物的愉悦和知识,我们就丰满、就知足了吗?”
我的精灵说:“不,我们只会夷平地面从头越过,向更远的地方前进。”
你也在问我问题,我听见了,
我回答说我不能回答,你必须自己寻找答案。
坐一会儿吧,亲爱的儿子,
这里有饼干可吃,这里有牛奶可喝,
但是只要你睡过一觉换上了轻便的衣服恢复了精神,我就用一个告别的吻吻你并打开大门让你从这里走出去。
你那些卑鄙的梦已做得够了,
现在我把你眼睛里的污垢洗去,
你自己必须习惯于炫目的光照和你炫目的生命的每一分秒。
你在岸边抱住一块木板怯懦地在水里跋涉已经够久了,
现在我要求你做一个勇敢的游泳者,
跳进海里又浮出水面,向着我点头,叫喊,笑着把头发甩在脑后。
五十一
过去和现在凋谢了——我曾经使它们饱满,又曾经使它们空虚,
还要接下去装满那在身后还将继续下去的生命。
站在那边的听者!你有什么秘密告诉我?
在我吸进黄昏的斜照时请端详我的脸,
(说老实话吧,没有任何别人会听见你,我也只能再多待一分钟。)
我自相矛盾吗?
那好吧,我是自相矛盾的,
(我辽阔博大,我包罗万象。)
我对近物思想集中,我在门前石板上等候。
谁已经做完他一天的工作?谁能最快把晚饭吃完?
谁愿意和我一起散步?
你愿在我走之前说话吗?你会不会已经太晚?
五十二
那苍鹰从我身旁掠过而且责备我,他怪我饶舌,又怪我迟迟留着不走。
我也一样一点都不驯顺,我也一样不可翻译,
我在世界的屋脊上发出了粗野的喊叫声。
白天最后的日光为我停留,
它把我的影子抛在其它影子的后面而且和其它的一样,抛我在多黑影的旷野,
它劝诱我走向烟雾和黄昏。
我像空气一样走了,我对着那正在逃跑的太阳摇晃着我的绺绺白发,
我把我的肉体融化在旋涡中,让它漂浮在花边状的裂缝中。
我把自己交付给秽土,让它在我心爱的草丛中成长,
如果你又需要我,请在你的靴子底下寻找我。
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