一組狄金森的詩

[戴玨]

戴玨 譯

35. 沒人認識這朵小玫瑰


沒人認識這朵小玫瑰—
它可能會去朝聖，
要不是我從路上把它摘走，
在你面前敬奉。
只有蜜蜂會想念它—
只有蝴蝶，
會匆匆地遠道而來—
在它懷裡安歇—
只有鳥兒會錯愕—
只有微風會嘆息—
啊，小玫瑰—像你這樣的，
死去是多麼容易!


67. 成功最甜美


從未取得過成功的人
認為成功最甜美。
經歷了最痛的逆境才能
體會瓊漿的滋味。

這紫色的大軍今天
雖奪取了戰旗，
卻沒一個人能說清楚
獲勝的定義。

他被擊敗了—生命垂危—
受阻隔的耳朵卻聽到
遠處突然響起了痛苦清晰的
勝利曲調。


254.“希望”是有羽毛的生物


“希望”是有羽毛的生物—
棲息在靈魂裡—
唱著沒有歌詞的曲調—
永遠都—不停息—

最甜美的—在大風中—聽到—
暴風雨必定痛苦難堪—
可能會使這—讓很多人溫暖的—
小鳥尷尬不安—

在最冷峭的地域—以及最陌生的
海上—我聽到過—
然而，在絕境中，它從未
向我—要過一片面包碎末。


258. 有那麼一道傾斜的光


有那麼一道傾斜的光，
冬日的午後—
就像教堂樂曲般沉重，
壓得人難受—

它給我們的是天堂的痛楚—
我們找不到傷疤，
卻在真意所在的地方，
找到內在的變化—

沒人可以傳授它—一點都不行—
它是絕望封印—
是無上的痛苦自空中
傳送給了我們—

它來的時候，山川傾聽—
陰影—屏息無言—
它去的時候，有如死神的臉色
疏遠冷然—


303. 靈魂選擇她自己的團體


靈魂選擇她自己的團體—
然後—把門緊掩—
不再出現於—她那神啟
的大多數面前—

無動於衷—發覺有軒車—停在
她低矮的大門前—
無動於衷—有位皇帝跪在
她的踏墊上面—

我曾見過她—自一大國—
挑選了一員—
然後—閉上她注意力的瓣膜—
有如石頭一般—


328. 一只鳥沿著小徑走來


一只鳥沿著小徑走來—
不知道我看見了他—
他把一條蚯蚓啄成了兩半，
並把那家伙，生生吞下，

接著他從近便的草葉上
喝了一顆露珠—
接著，為了讓一只甲蟲通過，
向牆那邊跳了開去—

他用敏捷的眼睛瞥視，
迅速地掃過四周—
它們看著像受驚的珠子，我覺得—
他輕微地挪動絲絨般的頭

就像遇到了危險，小心翼翼，
我給他一塊面包碎末，
而他展開了他的羽翼，
更為輕柔地劃回自己的窩—

甚於雙槳劃開大洋，
過於銀白，不見裂縫—
或甚於蝴蝶，在正午的岸邊
躍飛，不濺水花地游動。


632. 頭腦比天空更廣闊


頭腦—比天空更廣闊—
因為—把他們放在一起—
一個會輕易地將另一個
包含—還包括—你—

頭腦比海更深—
因為—拿著他們—藍對藍—
一個會將另一個吸收—
就如海綿—桶子—一般—

頭腦剛好有上帝的重量—
因為—掂一掂—一斤對一斤—
他們會有所不同—如果不同—
就如音節不同於聲音。


657. 我居住在可能性中

我居住在可能性中—
一座比散文更美的宅屋—
更為眾多的窗子—
高一等的—門戶—

有如雪松林的內室—
眼睛無法窺攻—
有一片永恆的屋頂
天空的斜穹窿—

還有遊客—最美麗的—
就為從事—這個—
我窄小的雙手完全張開
讓天堂聚合—
_________________
I labour by singing light
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[戴玨]

35. Nobody knows this little Rose

Nobody knows this little Rose─
It might a pilgrim be
Did I not take it from the ways
And lift it up to thee.
Only a Bee will miss it—
Only a Butterfly,
Hastening from far journey—
On its breast to lie—
Only a Bird will wonder—
Only a Breeze will sigh—
Ah Little Rose—how easy
For such as thee to die!


67. Success is counted sweetest

Success is counted sweetest
By those who ne'er succeed.
To comprehend a nectar
Requires sorest need.

Not one of all the purple Host
Who took the Flag today
Can tell the definition
So clear of Victory

As he defeated—dying—
On whose forbidden ear
The distant strains of triumph
Burst agonized and clear!


254. "Hope" is the thing with feathers

"Hope" is the thing with feathers—
That perches in the soul—
And sings the tune without the words—
And never stops—at all—

And sweetest—in the Gale—is heard—
And sore must be the storm—
That could abash the little Bird—
That kept so many warm—

I’ve heard it in the chillest land—
And on the strangest Sea—
Yet, never, in Extremity,
It asked a crumb—of Me.


258. There’s a certain slant of light

There’s a certain slant of light,
Winter afternoons—
That oppresses, like the Heft
Of Cathedral Tunes—

Heavenly Hurt it gives us—
We can find no scar,
But internal difference,
Where the meanings, are—

None may teach it—Any—
’Tis the Seal Despair—
An imperial affliction
Sent us of the Air—

When it comes, the Landscape listens—
Shadows—hold their breath—
When it goes, ’tis like the Distance
On the look of Death—


303. "The Soul Selects her own Society"

The Soul selects her own Society—
Then—shuts the Door—
To her divine Majority—
Present no more—

Unmoved—she notes the Chariots—pausing
At her low Gate—
Unmoved—an Emperor be kneeling
Upon her Mat—

I've known her—from an ample nation—
Choose One—
Then—close the Valves of her attention—
Like Stone—


328. A Bird came down the Walk

A Bird came down the Walk—
He did not know I saw—
He bit an Angleworm in halves
And ate the fellow, raw,

And then he drank a Dew
From a convenient Grass—
And then hopped sidewise to the Wall
To let a Beetle pass—

He glanced with rapid eyes
That hurried all around—
They looked like frightened Beads, I thought—
He stirred his Velvet Head

Like one in danger, Cautious,
I offered him a Crumb
And he unrolled his feathers
And rowed him softer home—

Than Oars divide the Ocean,
Too silver for a seam—
Or Butterflies, off Banks of Noon
Leap, plashless as they swim.


632. The Brain is wider than the Sky

The Brain—is wider than the Sky—
For—put them side by side—
The one the other will contain
With ease—and You—beside—

The Brain is deeper than the sea—
For—hold them—Blue to Blue—
The one the other will absorb—
As Sponges—Buckets—do—

The Brain is just the weight of God—
For—Heft them—Pound for Pound—
And they will differ—if they do—
As Syllable from Sound—


657. I Dwell in Possibility

I dwell in Possibility—
A fairer House than Prose—
More numerous of Windows—
Superior—for Doors—

Of Chambers as the Cedars—
Impregnable of Eye—
And for an Everlasting Roof
The Gambrels of the Sky—

Of Visitors—the fairest—
For Occupation—This—
The spreading wide my narrow Hands
To gather Paradise—
_________________
I labour by singing light
我的blog
我的專欄

[Lake]

Hello, long time no hear!

The translation reads smoothly.
I didn't compare the two versions, since they were not posted side by side and I was lazy to scroll it down.
So reading the translation alone without any bumpy feel makes me satisfied.
_________________
the trouble with poetry is that it encourages the writing of more poetry -- Billy Collins

[博弈]

要翻她的詩，不容易，不單是字面的部分，很多強烈的‘之間關係‘是潛藏的意義所在。
她對dash的大量使用--詩人中算百分比最高的吧--和傳統與現在都不同，所以要先了解她的dash, 才好下手。
對她的翻譯，最忌翻死了，翻固定了。個見。
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（在不斷的審醜裡終將建立起新的審美）