Plath: The Arrival of the Bee Box

Sylvia Plath Collected Poems
No. 177

　　The Arrival of the Bee Box

I ordered this, this clean wood box
Square as a chair and almost too heavy to lift.
I would say it was the coffin of a midget
Or a square baby
Were there not such a din in it.

The box is locked, it is dangerous.
I have to live with it overnight
And I can't keep away from it.
There are no windows, so I can't see what is in there.
There is only a little grid, no exit.

I put my eye to the grid.
It is dark, dark,
With the swarmy feeling of African hands
Minute and shrunk for export,
Black on black, angrily clambering.

How can I let them out?
It is the noise that appalls me most of all,
The unintelligible syllables.
It is like a Roman mob,
Small, taken one by one, but my god, together!

I lay my ear to furious Latin.
I am not a Caesar.
I have simply ordered a box of maniacs.
They can be sent back.
They can die, I need feed than nothing, I am the owner.

I wonder how hungry they are.
I wonder if they would forget me
If I just undid the locks and stood back and turned into a tree.
There is the laburnum, its blond colonnades,
And the petticoats of the cherry.

They might ignore me immediately
In my moon suit and funeral veil.
I am no source of honey
So why should they turn on me?
Tomorrow I will be sweet God, I will set them free.

The box is only temporary.
　　　　　　　　　　　　4 October 1962



普拉斯《诗全编》
第177首

　　　蜂箱送到

这是我订购的，一口干净的木箱
椅子般方方正正，重，几乎难以搬起。
想说这是一个侏儒的棺材，
一个很结实的婴孩，
可它里面有翻了天的喧嚣。

箱子锁着，它很危险。
我必须忍着它，过一夜，
可我无法离开它。
没有窗子，所以我看不到里面有什么。
只有一个小小的栅格，没有出口。

我眼睛贴着栅格。
很黑，很黑，
感觉是蠕动的贩运出境的非洲人
细小干瘪的手，
黑上加黑，愤怒地攀爬。

我如何才能把它们放出去？
最令我抓狂的是那噪音，
那么多听不清的音节。
好像一群罗马愚民，
单个地看，很小，可是聚集一起，天呐！

我耳听狂怒的拉丁语。
我不是凯撒。
我真的是订购了一箱燥狂病人。
可以退回。
可以任它们死掉，只要不喂食物，我是主人。

我在想它们有多饿。
我在想如果我打开锁、退后、化为一棵树，
它们会不会忘记我。
那儿有金链花树，垂下金黄的廊柱，
和樱桃似的衬裙。

它们可能立刻忽略我，
我这身月白套装和葬礼面纱。
我又不是蜂蜜的源泉，
它们为何还要冲我而来？
明天，我将做遂人心愿的上帝，还它们自由。

箱子，只是暂时的。
　　　　　　　　　　1962年10月4日