Wednesday, October 7, 2009

Plath: Apprehensions

Sylvia Plath Collected Poems
No. 166

    Apprehensions


There is this white wall, above which the sky creates itself—
Infinite, green, utterly untouchable.
Angels swim in it, and the stars, in indifference also.
They are my medium.
The sun dissolves on this wall, bleeding its lights.

A gray wall now, clawed and bloody.
Is there no way out of the mind?
Steps at my back spiral into a well.
There are no trees or birds in this world,
There is only a sourness.

This red wall winces continually:
A red fist, opening and closing,
Two gray, papery bags—
This is what I am made of, this and a terror
Of being wheeled off under crosses and a rain of pietàs.

On a black wall, unidentifiable birds
Swivel their heads and cry.
There is no talk of immortality among these!
Cold blanks approach us:
They move in a hurry.
              28 May 1962


普拉斯《诗全编》
第166首

    忧惧


这儿是堵白墙,天空在其上方创造自身——
无限、幽绿、绝对不可触及。
天使们游弋其中,星星也同样,漠然。
它们是我的灵媒。
太阳在这堵墙上消融,出血似地流出光。

现在是一堵灰墙,长着爪子,血迹斑斑。
难道就没门道可走出这种心境?
我脊背的旋梯,通向一口井。
这个世界里,没有树,也没有鸟,
只有一种酸涩。

这堵红墙退缩又退缩:
一只红拳头,张开又捏紧,
两只灰色的、薄纸的袋子——
我便由这一切制成,除了这一切再加上恐惧,
怕自己被压在十字架和圣殇图下用轮车推走。

一堵黑墙上,无人认识的鸟儿
旋转着头,一圈圈地,凄鸣。
它们之间,绝无永生这个话题!
冷漠的空茫逼近我们:
它们移动得很仓促。
          1962年5月28日

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