Sylvia Plath Collected Poems
No. 209
Winter Trees
The wet dawn inks are doing their blue dissolve.
On their blotter of fog the trees
Seem a botanical drawing---
Memories growing, ring on ring,
A series of weddings.
Knowing neither abortions nor bitchery,
Truer than women,
They seed so effortlessly!
Tasting the winds, that are footless,
Waist-deep in history---
Full of wings, otherworldliness.
In this, they are Ledas.
O mother of leaves and sweetness
Who are these pietàs?
The shadows of ringdoves chanting, but easing nothing.
26 November 1962
普拉斯《诗全编》
第209首
冬日的树
希薇娅- 普拉斯
潮湿的黎明之墨正在做它们的蓝色消融。
在雾的吸墨纸上,树木
看似一幅植物图谱——
记忆在生长,环环相叠,
系列的婚礼。
未识堕胎也不知淫荡,
比女人更真,
它们毫不费力就结了果!
品尝着一阵阵风,无足,
下半身浸于历史——
满是翅膀,恍如彼岸世界。
凭这点,它们都是丽达。
绿叶与甜美之母啊,
这些圣殇像是谁?
斑鸠的阴影在唱经,却什么也抚慰不了。
1962年11月26日
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