虽然她还年轻,生活已是一只塞满杂物的大货船

0610

作家

在房子的前部她的房间
灯光亮着,菩提树在窗前摇动
我的女儿正在写一个故事。

我逗留在楼梯间,听见
从她紧闭的门里传出打字机的响动
犹如一根链条拖过船舷的上缘。

虽然她还年轻,生活
已是一只塞满杂物的大货船,沉重:
我祝愿她有一个幸运的航程。

但现在她停了下来,
仿佛要拒绝我的思想及其简单的计算。
寂静在加深,寂静里

整个房子似乎都在沉思,
然后她又开始敲打,键盘发出
一连串啪啪的声响,接着又是寂静。

我记得一只茫然的欧掠鸟
两年前,正是被困在那个房间;
我们偷偷进去,打开窗扇,

退出,为了不惊扰它;
我们经过了怎样无助的一小时,透过门缝,
看着那光滑、野性、黑色、

闪光的小生物
冲撞向光亮处,像手套一样跌落
硬地板,或书桌上,

然后等待,弓起背,血淋淋的,
等待神智清醒再作尝试;而我们的精神
为之一振,当它突然、确定地,

从椅背跳起,
从右侧窗口,顺利地振翅飞起
越过这世界的窗台。

这始终是一个问题,我亲爱的,
生或死,我已忘记。此刻
我所寄望于你的,一如从前,但分量加倍。

作者 / [美国] 理查德·威尔伯
翻译 / 李以亮

The Writer

In her room at the prow of the house
Where light breaks, and the windows are tossed with linden,
My daughter is writing a story.

I pause in the stairwell, hearing
From her shut door a commotion of typewriter-keys
Like a chain hauled over a gunwale.

Young as she is, the stuff
Of her life is a great cargo, and some of it heavy:
I wish her a lucky passage.

But now it is she who pauses,
As if to reject my thought and its easy figure.
A stillness greatens, in which

The whole house seems to be thinking,
And then she is at it again with a bunched clamor
Of strokes, and again is silent.

I remember the dazed starling
Which was trapped in that very room, two years ago;
How we stole in, lifted a sash

And retreated, not to affright it;
And how for a helpless hour, through the crack of the door,
We watched the sleek, wild, dark

And iridescent creature
Batter against the brilliance, drop like a glove
To the hard floor, or the desk-top,

And wait then, humped and bloody,
For the wits to try it again; and how our spirits
Rose when, suddenly sure,

It lifted off from a chair-back,
Beating a smooth course for the right window
And clearing the sill of the world.

It is always a matter, my darling,
Of life or death, as I had forgotten. I wish
What I wished you before, but harder.

Richard Wilbur

 

真正的写作,不是对世界的逃避,而是对世界的挑战。

当一位写作者,看到自己的孩子也开始写作,第一反应自然是担心,因为只有写作者才知道写作是多么辛苦。生活已经负担很重,把它再写下来那岂不是双重的负担。

但是,人在写作,正像是一只被困住的鸟在求生,突破四壁的限制,飞向自我的无限。

所以,老的那位写作者释然了,承担的更多,获得的也将更多,于是他不由得对年轻的写作者寄予了“加倍的厚望”。

荐诗 / 照朗
2018/06/10

 

 

 

题图 / Tung-pang Lam, The Writing Desk, 2017

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