One night as he sat at his table head on hands he saw himself rise and go. One night or day. For when his own light went out he was not left in the dark. Light of a kind came then from the one high window. Under it still the stool on which till he could or would no more he used to mount to see the sky. Why he did not crane out to see what lay beneath was perhaps because the window was not made to open or because he could or would not open it. Perhaps he knew only too well what lay beneath and did not wish to see it again. So he would simply stand there high above the earth and see through the clouded pane the cloudless sky. Its faint unchanging light unlike any light he could remember from the days and nights when day followed hard on night and night on day. This outer light then when
his own went out became his only light till it in its turn went out and left him in the dark. Till it in its turn went out.
One night or day then as he sat at his table head on hands he saw himself rise and go. First rise and stand clinging to the table.Then sit again. Then rise again and stand clinging to the table again. Then go. Start to go. On unseen feet start to go. So slow that only change of place to show he went. As when he disappeared only to reappear later at another place again. Then disappeared only to reappear later at another place again. So again and again disappeared again to reappear again at another place again. Another place in the place where he sat at his table head on hands. The same place and table as when Darly for example died and left him. As when others too in their turn before and since. As when others would too in their turn and leave him till he too in his turn. Head on hands half hoping when he disappeared again that he would not reappear again and half fearing that he would not. Or merely wondering. Or merely waiting. Waiting to see if he would or would not. Leave him or not alone again waiting for nothing again.
Seen always from behind withersoever he went. Same hat and coat as of old when he walked the roads. The back roads. Now as one in a strange place seeking the way out. In the dark. In a strange place blindly in the dark of night or day seeking the way out. To the roads. The back roads.
A clock afar struck the hours and half-hours. The same as when among others Darly once died and left him. Strokes now clear as if carried by a wind now faint on the still air. Cries afar now faint now clear. Head on hands half hoping when the hour struck that the half-hour would not and half fearing that it would not. Similarly when the half-hour struck. Similarly when the cries a moment ceased. Or merely wondering. Or merely waiting. Waiting to hear.
留言（2 条）
在 真实的塞缪尔·贝克特（Samuel Beckett） 留言：
最近譯了貝克特去世前作品＜Stirrings Still>的前兩節
此作亦可譯為”靜靜的騷動” 但如此譯無法傳達較具哲學性的意涵 Sqianz
Stirrings Still by Samuel Beckett
One night as he sat at his table head on hands he saw himself rise and go. One night or day. For when his own light went out he was not left in the dark. Light of a kind came then from the one high window. Under it still the stool on which till he could or would no more he used to mount to see the sky. Why he did not crane out to see what lay beneath was perhaps because the window was not made to open or because he could or would not open it. Perhaps he knew only too well what lay beneath and did not wish to see it again. So he would simply stand there high above the earth and see through the clouded pane the cloudless sky. Its faint unchanging light unlike any light he could remember from the days and nights when day followed hard on night and night on day. This outer light then when
his own went out became his only light till it in its turn went out and left him in the dark. Till it in its turn went out.
騷動 ---
--- 仍在
sqianz 譯
一晚當他坐在桌前時頭放在雙手上他看到他自己站起來走了. 一晚或一日. 因為當他的燈熄滅後他並沒有被留在黑暗裡. 有種光從那一扇高窗裡瀉進來. 窗下仍是那凳子那他直到他不能或不想他用來爬上看天空的凳子. 為什麼他沒有拉頸子去看窗下有什麼可能是因為那窗不能開或因為他不能或不想開. 或許他太清楚那裡有什麼而他不想再看到. 因此他總只簡單地站在高離地面從那陰翳的玻璃看那無雲的天空. 天空昏暗不變的光不像任何他記得的日緊跟著夜夜緊跟著日的日夜時的光. 這外來的光就成為當他自己的熄滅時他僅有的光直到它轉過來自己也熄滅了而把他留在黑暗裡. 直到它轉過來自己也熄滅了.
One night or day then as he sat at his table head on hands he saw himself rise and go. First rise and stand clinging to the table.Then sit again. Then rise again and stand clinging to the table again. Then go. Start to go. On unseen feet start to go. So slow that only change of place to show he went. As when he disappeared only to reappear later at another place again. Then disappeared only to reappear later at another place again. So again and again disappeared again to reappear again at another place again. Another place in the place where he sat at his table head on hands. The same place and table as when Darly for example died and left him. As when others too in their turn before and since. As when others would too in their turn and leave him till he too in his turn. Head on hands half hoping when he disappeared again that he would not reappear again and half fearing that he would not. Or merely wondering. Or merely waiting. Waiting to see if he would or would not. Leave him or not alone again waiting for nothing again.
一晚或一日那麼當他坐在桌前頭放在雙手上時他看到他自己站起來走了. 起初是站起來而靠著桌子站著. 然後又坐下. 然後又站起來而又靠著桌子站著. 然後走了. 開始走了. 在看不見的雙腳上開始走了. 那麼慢因此只有換了位子才看得出他(好像)走了. 好像他消失了就只是要以後在另一個地方重新出現. 然後又消失只是以後要在另一個地方重新出現. 所以一次又一次消失然後又重新出現在另一個地方. 另一個地方就是他坐在桌前頭壓在雙手上的地方. 譬如當達里死了而留下了他的同樣地方和桌子. 就如之前或之後其他人一個個走了時那樣. 就如其他人一個個會走而留下他直到輪到他自己一樣. 頭壓在手上半希望當他再消失他不會再出現而半擔心他不會再出現. 或者只是在納悶. 或者只是在等待. 等著看他會不會再出現. 會不會又留下他一人而又什麼都不能等待.
Seen always from behind withersoever he went. Same hat and coat as of old when he walked the roads. The back roads. Now as one in a strange place seeking the way out. In the dark. In a strange place blindly in the dark of night or day seeking the way out. To the roads. The back roads.
A clock afar struck the hours and half-hours. The same as when among others Darly once died and left him. Strokes now clear as if carried by a wind now faint on the still air. Cries afar now faint now clear. Head on hands half hoping when the hour struck that the half-hour would not and half fearing that it would not. Similarly when the half-hour struck. Similarly when the cries a moment ceased. Or merely wondering. Or merely waiting. Waiting to hear.
(待續)
2006-04-15 06:15:08
在 《J.阿尔弗瑞德.普鲁弗洛克的情歌》阅读笔记（上） 留言：
最近把這首詩譯了出來 網上一查 竟還有人在新譯 可敬 請供參考 不講究韻腳 只求神似
T. S. Eliot 原著
一個文學逃兵
A parody
parodied (in translation)
on who else
but …..
Sqianz 譯
讓咱們走吧, 我倆,
趁著夜晚癱了掛在天空上,
像個病人上了麻藥躺在手術台上;
我們走, 穿過一些半廢棄的街道,
一些廉價過夜旅館裡傳來的無眠之夜
裡的隱隱互道,
還有地上散著鋸木屑和牡蠣殼的小餐館:
這些街道重重覆覆, 像個無聊的辯論,
帶著詭譎莫測的意圖,
好像要把你引向一個令人無法承受的問題….
噢, 不要問: “什麼問題?”
讓咱們走吧, 就是了.
房間裡女人們來來去去,
談論著米開朗基羅.
黃色的霧在窗櫺上摩娑著背,
煙黃裊裊, 貓嘴似的在窗櫺上挨蹭,
把柔舌舔進夜晚的每一個角落,
在排水溝的死水上靜靜駐足,
讓煙囱裡掉出的灰塵飄落到它的背上,
輕輕繞過斜坡, 又突然一蹬,
看看是個溫暖十月天氣的夜,
一踡身, 盤繞著屋宇又睡入了好夢.
是啊, 會有時間, 會有時間的,
讓黃色的煙霧在街道上漸漸瀰漫,
在窗櫺之間慢慢地摩蹭著它的背;
會有時間, 會有時間,
讓你好整以暇從從容容的去準備一個會面;
會有時間會有時間, 去準備謀殺, 去準備製造;
會有時間讓那些接踵而來, 舉起一個問題
丟在你盤子上的手, 不慌不忙的來教.
會有時間, 給你也給我;
會有時間, 讓你思來想去, 百轉愁腸,
更會有時間讓你靈光閃閃, 卻又舉棋不定,
就為了舉杯湊趣, 或飲一口茶湯助興.
房間裡女人們來來去去,
談論著米開朗基羅.
是啊, 會有時間, 會有時間, 說:
“我敢嗎?” “我敢嗎?”
會有時間, 轉過身來, 步下樓梯…
我頭頂漸稀的一塊毛髮暴露無遺….
(她們會說: “他的頭髮漸漸稀了!”)
我的晨袍, 我的衣領堅挺的緊扣在頦下
我的領帶, 華麗又不失適當, 一根別針簡單漂亮
(她們會說: “可是他的手腿多麼細弱啊!”)
我敢嗎? 我敢嗎?
去攪亂一池春水….
在短短的一分鐘內
所做的千百種決定, 在一分鐘內就可以全部否定.
因為我已經太知道了, 太知道了….
星移月轉, 春來秋去, 我什麼沒有見過;
杯涼茶冷, 油盡燈枯, 我嘗過多少光陰寥落.
幽幽的樂聲從遠處房間裡傳來,
那伴隨著的淒涼戀歌, 我怎麼會沒有聽過?
所以, 我還能怎樣重頭來過?
而我也見過那些眼晴, 全部見過:
那些靠著一句話就把你盯死的眼睛…..
而當我被釘死, 扭動在一根針上,
而當我被釘住, 掙扎在一面牆上,
我怎樣開始,
才能一一吐露出我重重的積鬱, 說不盡的塊壘?
我怎樣開始, 才能重頭來過?
而我也見過那些手臂, 全部見過:
那些閃著鑽鐲, 白嫩光滑的手臂….
(但是燈下一看, 卻又都是褐色森森的細毛!)
是那些華服鬢影下傳來的暗香
讓我魂不守舍?
是那些輕擱在枱子上的春葱, 是那些慢攏著披肩的柔胰?
我怎樣才能開始傾吐?
我怎樣才能開始重新來過?
. . . . . . . .
我應該說, 我已經在暮色裡穿過那些狹窄的街道,
看過那些戴著袖套, 倚著窗子外望的男子們煙斗裡
冒出的縷縷輕煙?......
我根本只是一雙醜怪畸形的鉗臂,
狼狽偷偷的在了無生趣的深海裡一溜而去.
. . . . . . . .
靜謐的午後, 與傍晚, 沈睡得多麼甜蜜!
優雅的長指輕輕將它撫平,
倦了.…睡了….或只是慵慵懶懶的裝病?
拉長了身子安息在地坂上, 就酣夢在你我身旁.
我應該, 在喝了茶, 吃了糕點, 又嚐過冰品之後
使出吃奶的氣力, 鼓起餘勇, 好把那時機….一語道破?
但是儘管我哭過, 齋戒過, 哭過, 又祈禱過,
雖然我看到, 我的頭(微微禿了), 在一個大圓盤子上
被端進來過…..
我終究不是先知, 而且這事兒….說穿了, 也只不過….
我看到我偉大的一刻一閃而逝,
我看到那永恆的侍者為我張開大衣, 冷笑而俟.
一句話, 我就是害怕.
而這一切真值得嗎? 真值得嗎:
在舉了杯, 喝了茶, 吃過果醬之後,
坐在杯瓷之間, 閒道著一些家常, 傾吐著你我.
這一切會值得嗎?
用一個微笑把所有話題打斷,
把宇宙收攏起來, 凝聚成一球,
把它滾向一個令人敬畏的問題,
說: “我是拉撒路, 我從死中復活,
我帶回來一個消息, 我帶回來一個消息…..”
而那人, 她撿起一枚蒲團墊在頸後,
輕輕地說: “我不是那個意思….
我不是那個意思, 完全不是.”
這一切完全會值得嗎?
會值得嗎…..
在多少個日暮, 多少個院落之後, 在灑過多少水
的街道, 多少本小說之後, 在多少次茶話之後,
看著多少幅裙擺輕輕在地板上掠行之後------
這一切, 而這一切?......
我如何說得出口? 我到底是什麼意思?
但是, 就像一盞魔幻的燈, 把敏感脆弱的神經纖毫畢露
全都一下子投射在一塊銀幕上:
這會值得嗎, 這一切會值得嗎,
如果有人, 輕輕拍著枕墊, 或把披肩一甩,
一轉身, 面向窗口, 竟然說:
“我不是那個意思, 我不是那個意思,
完完全全不是, 根本不是.”
. . . . . . . .
不! 我不是哈姆雷特王子, 我也不可能是;
我是個待從大臣, 班排入列行禮如儀, 少了我
就不成個架式; 庭務擾攘, 據理力爭, 為主子獻計,
沒錯, 那才是我輩之事.
謹言慎行, 勗勉從公, 終究會得到賞識.
政事紛繁, 臨深履薄, 一點都不得差池;
發言盈庭, 擲地有聲, 顧不得修辭是否有點含糊.
有時候, 確實, 不免有點不合時宜,
有時, 弄得, 幾乎進退都有點失據.
我老了…..我老了……
我的褲腳應該裁短修緊一點才是.
我應該把頭髮往後中分? 我是否已看不得一朵紅杏?
我應該換上法蘭絨白色長褲, 到海灘上去趑足養性.
我聽到美人魚們歌唱應答, 情深意濃, 曲思是多麼撩興.
但是我知道, 她們絕不會為我而唱.
我看過她們乘波弄浪往海中游去,
梳理著海水白滌飛揚的秀髮,
習習涼風下在明暗忽動的水色中嬉戲.
我們在海底溫室中已迷戀太久,
穿紅戴綠裹藻為衣的海女們讓我們流連忘返,
直到人聲傳來, 忽然一驚, 我們終於溺斃.
2006-04-15 05:55:50