Plath: The Munich Mannequins

Sylvia Plath Collected Poems
No. 214


　　　The Munich Mannequins
Perfection is terrible, it cannot have children.
Cold as snow breath, it tamps the womb

Where the yew trees blow like hydras,
The tree of life and the tree of life

Unloosing their moons, month after month, to no purpose.
The blood flood is the flood of love,

The absolute sacrifice.
It means: no more idols but me,

Me and you.
So, in their sulfur loveliness, in their smiles

These mannequins lean tonight
In Munich, morgue between Paris and Rome,

Naked and bald in their furs,
Orange lollies on silver sticks,

Intolerable, without mind.
The snow drops its pieces of darkness,

Nobody's about. In the hotels
Hands will be opening doors and setting

Down shoes for a polish of carbon
Into which broad toes will go tomorrow.

O the domesticity of these windows,
The baby lace, the green-leaved confectionery,

The thick Germans slumbering in their bottomless Stolz.
And the black phones on hooks

Glittering
Glittering and digesting

Voicelessness. The snow has no voice.
　　　　　　　　　28 January 1963


第214首

　　慕尼黑的模特
　　　　　　　希薇娅- 普拉斯
完美，是可怖的，它不能生孩子。
它冷，似雪的气息，堵死子宫，

紫杉吹气，如蛇头怪，
一颗又一颗生命之树在那儿

释放月亮，一月又一月，没了目的。
血潮涌起便是爱潮涌出，

终结的献祭。
意味着：再无偶像，除了我，

除了我你。
所以，她们的可爱披着硫磺、她们微笑，

今夜，这些模特倚靠
在慕尼黑，巴黎与罗马间的陈尸房，

她们裸身、秃头、披裘皮，
小银棍插着橙黄的棒棒糖，

令人难以忍受、毫无思想。
雪，落下它的片片黑暗，

四下无人。宾馆里
一双双手将会开门，摆好

软毛鞋，让人用碳粉抛光，
肥脚趾将会插进去行走明天。

哦，家的气息，来自这些窗子、
婴儿饰带、绿窗帘的糖果店、

以及沉入无底梦乡的粗壮的德国佬。
而黑色电话扣在座钩上

闪着光，
一边闪光、一边消化着

无声。雪没有嗓音。
　　　　　　1963年1月28日