Sylvia Plath Collected Poems
No. 205
Death & Co.
Two, of course there are two.
It seems perfectly natural now------
The one who never looks up, whose eyes are lidded
And balled, like Blake's,
Who exhibits
The birthmarks that are his trademark------
The scald scar of water,
The nude
Verdigris of the condor.
I am red meat. His beak
Claps sidewise: I am not his yet.
He tells me how badly I photograph.
He tells me how sweet
The babies look in their hospital
Icebox, a simple
Frill at the neck,
Then the flutings of their Ionian
Death-gowns,
Then two little feet.
He does not smile or smoke.
The other does that,
His hair long and plausive.
Bastard
Masturbating a glitter,
He wants to be loved.
I do not stir.
The frost makes a flower,
The dew makes a star,
The dead bell,
The dead bell.
Somebody's done for.
November 1962
普拉斯《诗全编》
第205首
死亡商号
希薇娅- 普拉斯
两个,当然是两个人。
现在看来自然得完美——
一个从没抬眼,眼皮下垂、
眼珠如球,像布莱克的画,
展示
胎记,当作是他的商标——
开水的烫疤,
秃鹫腿上
赤裸的铜绿色。
我是红肉。他的喙
横着啄击:我还不是他的。
他对我说我多么不上相。
他对我说躺在医院
冰盒里的婴儿多么甜美,
朴素的褶皱
绕着脖子,
向下是带槽孔的爱奥尼亚式
死亡罩衣,
再下面是两只小脚。
此人不笑也不抽烟。
另一个人全占了,
他头发很长,飘曳。
混球
淫摸着一颗闪光,
他想要别人爱他。
我一动不动。
霜,化出一朵花,
露,化出一颗星,
死亡之钟,
死亡之钟。
有人已经完了。
1962年11月14日
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