「母語的邊界」香港國際詩歌之夜十五週年丨伊馮・勒芒

岸

[法] 伊冯·勒芒

树才 译

她坐着

坐在她的四十公斤里

面朝大海

大海宽阔得

如同她向自己

提出的问题

我想象

在死亡面前

她坐着

坐在双目之下

坐在天空之下

她的眼睛在看

在看护她所看的

她的手中

她到彼岸时才会打开它

就像一个孩子

对着太阳，对着伙伴

才会展示手中的玻璃球

她的眼睛

延伸到天边

一直延伸到

不可收回之点

她坐着

坐在她的四十公斤里

坐在她的八十二岁上

她最后一次

确认地球的四周

被大海环抱

凭着她的眼睛

她在海上行走

她撞到了海平线

为了给大海

打开

天空之门

她准备着

在末日那一天

第一个抵达

The Shore

Yvon Le Men

She sits

all of six stone

by the sea

vast

like the questions

I imagine

she asks herself

when faced with death

She sits

in full view of it

beneath the sky

her eyes watch

and keep what they watch

in her hand

which she stretches out on the other side

like how a child shows marbles

to the sun

and to its friends

She raises her eyes

to the horizon

she drags herself

to the point of no return

Sitting

all of six stone

her eighty-two years

she checks one last time

the lay of the land

by the sea

with her eyes

she treads water

She knocks on the horizon

to open

to the sea

the gateway to heaven

She is preparing

to be first

on the last day.

Translated from French by Tammy Lai-ming Ho and Oliver Farry

成都，杜甫草堂

[法] 伊冯·勒芒

树才 译

给树才

昨天

在林边的屋子里

我读到一首杜甫的诗

它写到

八世纪

皇上听不见百姓的呼号

妇女们徒劳地握紧锹，扶住犁

荆棘到处侵入荒芜的田地

它还写到

二十一世纪

战争肆虐，杀戮不断，

人什么都不是，沦为鸡狗......

今天

在杜甫草堂

我念了一首自己的诗

在蓝蓝的天空下

成都的天空经常灰蒙蒙

好像在回应

杜甫的诗句

天空怜悯我

赠我以微风

以前他还写到

唉！我唱头一句

已经是悲歌

因为这些诗句

因为那些诗句

男人们

女人们

聚到一起

像每一个人

无论是皇帝

还是平民

聚到杜甫草堂

看他的诗

我也许能看见

他当年所见

千百次重复的风景

行人的目光

他们来来去去

生活的每一个细节

历来如此

出生

活着

死去

生活也有惨的一面

读他的诗

我肯定能看见他现在所见

如果他还活着

生活

卖柿子的人

磨刀的人

还有那位妇女自行车上

搭了个小餐馆

生活

可以这么说

是那些外来的民工

盖成了大楼

直到摩天

夜间摊开手脚

躺在一块木板上

哪里

都一样

当生活之河把人分开

有些人就活在惨的一边

读他的诗

我看见

一位老妇戴着红帽子

穿着红色工作服

眼睛无疑是黑色的

她收拾街上的纸板箱

就用手没有刀

她把纸板折叠成被子

折出很多褶皱

又用脚踏成一堆

用两根灵巧的手指

像布列塔尼女人

在硬泥巴地上跳舞

她把它拽向

一块生活的地面

再次折叠

从口袋里掏出细绳

然后离开

布绳子捆着纸板箱

但是去哪里？

能值几个钱？

是那一天的活命钱

把那个夜晚悬起

看杜甫的诗

我看见

一个男人

衬衫比外套还长

右胳膊拽紧

他儿子的左胳膊

鸭舌帽倾斜在

天空和脑袋之间

他擦鞋

整排牙齿都在笑

这儿缺一颗

那儿少

一粒

冲着儿子直喘气

以这位老妇的名义

不管哪一位妇女

以这个男人的名义

不管哪一个男人

有时

是善的名义

有时

是美的名义

我们一直读这个诗人

我们爱他

他因为爱而失去了一切

甚至他自己

但他在梦里

在他的诗里

还邀请

另一个伟大的梦者

另一个伟大的诗人

李白：月下独饮的永恒的流放犯

余亦东蒙客，

怜君如弟兄。

醉眠秋共被，

携手日同行。

……

我们彻底地拒绝

一切名分和权力

就让我们的情思

在大海之上翱翔

我在我的家里

读到一首杜甫的诗

写于745年

我在杜甫草堂

念了一首我自己的诗

作于2015年

凭借这些符号做成的词

就像云幻化出形象

在无穷的天上

在我们的眼睛里面

At Chengdu, in Du Fu’s House

Yvon Le Men

For Shu Cai

Yesterday

in my house by the woods

I read a poem by Du Fu

who as far back

as the 8 ^th century said

The Emperor does not hear the cry of his people.

In vain the brave women grabbed the spade and drove the plough;

Brambles and thorns have everywhere overrun the desolate soil

and who again

says in the 21^st century

war is still rife, and the carnage relentless

Without caring more for the lives of men than those of hens or dogs…

Today

in front of Du Fu’s house

I read one of my poems

under a blue sky

in the often grey Chengdu sky

as if it were replying to Du Fu

who wrote

heaven sends me an indulgent breeze

to keep me company

because he had written

alas! my first song, already

a sad one

it’s for these verses

for those verses

that came

from men

from women

like everyone

from emperors

like no-one

in the house of Du Fu

If I peer into his poems

perhaps I will see

what he saw

on the landscape oft-repeated

in the eyes of passers-by

oft-revisited

by all of life

for aeons

being born

living

dying

sometimes from the wrong side of life

if I peer into his poems

I will surely see what he’d see

if he were alive today

the life

of the kiwi-fruit-vendor

of the knife-grinder

of the woman who carries a restaurant

on her bicycle

the life

if one may

of the migrant workers

who built the cities of China

up to the sky

whose nights are spent

lying four to a plank of wood

everywhere

always

when the river of life separates those who live

or live not from the right side of life’s river

peering into the poems of Du Fu

I see

an old woman in a pink cap

and a pink jacket

with eyes

that are no doubt black

she tackles cardboard boxes in the street

by hand with no knife

folds them like sheets

that won’t fold

tamping them with her feet

almost like dancing

like how in Brittany we used to dance on clay

to stretch it like a floor

to live on

she binds them

with string hanging from her pocket

then she leaves

her cardboard over her shoulder

but to where?

at what cost?

at the cost of her life the day

that dangles from her night

peering at the poems of Du Fu

I see

a man

his shirt sticking out from under his jacket

his right arm hanging onto

his son’s left arm

the cap slanting

between heaven and head

he wipes his boots

smiling with all his teeth

his lack of teeth

planted here

and there

in his breath gaping wide over his son

It’s in the name of this woman

of any woman

in the name of this man

of any man

of their goodness

betimes

of their beauty

so

that we still read Du Fu’s poems

that we love them

because he loved to the point of losing everything

losing himself

to the point of inviting into his dreams

in his poems

that other great dreamer

that other great poet

Li Bai, the immortal banished to earth drinking alone under the moon

…

I love him like an elder brother.

Tipsy on wine

in Autumn we sleep

under the one cover

…

We scorn all talk

of rank and power.

Let our thoughts and our feelings

wander freely

on the vast oceans

I read this poem by Du Fu

written in Autumn 745

in my home

I read a poem of mine

written in Autumn 2015

at his home

through words that act as signs

like clouds make pictures

in the boundless sky

though not with our eyes

Translated from French by Tammy Lai-ming Ho and Oliver Farry

译者简介：树才， 诗人、翻译家，文学博士。1965年生于浙江奉化。1987年毕业于北京外国语学院法语系。1990-1994年在中国驻塞内加尔使馆任外交官。现就职于中国社会科学院外文所，并担任香港诗歌节基金会学术顾问。著有《单独者》《树才诗选》《节奏练习》《灵魂的两面》《心动》等诗集；译著有《勒韦尔迪诗选》《夏尔诗选》《法国九人诗选》《杜弗的动与静》《小王子》《给孩子的12堂诗歌课》等。2006获“徐志摩诗歌奖”。2008年获法国政府“教育骑士”勋章。2017年获“十月诗歌奖”。2020年获“陈子昂诗歌奖·翻译家奖”。2023年获首届“李叔同国际诗歌奖（组诗主奖）”。2023年获法国政府“文学艺术骑士”勋章。

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