Sylvia Plath Collected Poems
No. 156
New Year on Dartmoor
This is newness: every little tawdry
Obstacle glass-wrapped and peculiar,
Glinting and clinking in a saint's falsetto. Only you
Don't know what to make of the sudden slippiness,
The blind, white, awful, inaccessible slant.
There's no getting up it by the words you know.
No getting up by elephant or wheel or shoe.
We have only come to look. You are too new
To want the world in a glass hat.
普拉斯《诗全编》
第156首
达特穆尔高原的新年
这是新：每一道小屏障
都罩在玻璃中，花哨而奇特，
以圣人的假嗓子，闪烁，玎玲。只是
你不知道该如何应付那突然的溜滑，
那盲目、可怕、难以触及的白色倾斜。
你所知的言词，无法将它征服。
大象、车轮或者鞋子，也征服不了。
我们来，也只是看看。你新来初到，
还不能要到玻璃帽下面的那个世界。
Was SP so alienated when she got there and was forced to reflect on her own "newness"? How similar is the glass-wrapping (and the glass hat) with the bell jar and/or the "untouchable" snowscape in a childhood gadget?
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