Getting There
去那里
How far is it?
它有多远？
How far is it now?
现在它有多远？
The gigantic gorilla interior
这个巨大猩猩的
Of the wheels move, they appall me——
车轮在滚动，它们使我恐惧——
The terrible brains
那些克虏伯可怕的
Of Krupp, black muzzles
头脑，黑色的炮口
Revolving, the sound
在旋转，那声音
Punching out Absence! Like cannon.
冲压出空无！像加农炮。
It is Russia I have to get across, it is some war or other.
我必须穿越俄罗斯，某个战争或其他。
I am dragging my body
我拖着我的身体
Quietly through the straw of the boxcars.
悄悄穿过装着稻草的闷罐车。
Now is the time for bribery.
现在是行贿的时机。
What do wheels eat, these wheels
车轮吃什么，这些车轮
Fixed to their arcs like gods,
像上帝固定在它们的弧线上，
The silver leash of the will——
意志的银色链条——
Inexorable. And their pride!
铁面无私。它们的骄傲！
All the gods know destinations.
所有上帝都知道目的地。
I am a letter in this slot——
我是这个狭缝里的一封信——
I fly to a name, two eyes.
我飞向一个名字，两只眼睛。
Will there be fire, will there be bread?
那边有火，有面包吗？
Here there is such mud.
而这儿有泥浆。
It is a trainstop, the nurses
这是火车站，护士们
Undergoing the faucet water, its veils, veils in a nunnery,
正用修道院里的自来水，还有面纱，面纱，
Touching their wounded,
清洗受伤男人的
The men the blood still pumps forward,
伤口，鲜血还在涌出，
Legs, arms piled outside
大腿，手臂堆放在帐篷
The tent of unending cries——
外面，无休止的哭喊——
A hospital of dolls.
玩偶们的医院。
And the men, what is left of the men
可男人们，男人们还剩下什么
Pumped ahead by these pistons, this blood
这些活塞将鲜血输送，向前
Into the next mile,
到下一个英里
The next hour——
下一个小时——
Dynasty of broken arrows!
断剑的皇朝！
How far is it?
它有多远？
There is mud on my feet,
我的双脚沾着泥巴，
Thick, red and slipping. It is Adam’s side,
厚重，红色，黏滑。这是亚当的侧面，
This earth I rise from, and I in agony.
我从这泥土出生，我极度痛苦。
I cannot undo myself, and the train is steaming.
我不能重塑自己，火车呼啸着。
Steaming and breathing, its teeth
呼啸着，冒着蒸汽，它的车轮
Ready to roll, like a devil’s.
像魔鬼的牙，准备吞噬。
There is a minute at the end of it
最终结束还有一分钟
A minute, a dewdrop.
一分钟，一滴露珠。
How far is it?
它有多远？
It is so small
我将去的地方
The place I am getting to, why are there these obstacles——
如此小，为何有这些障碍物——
The body of this woman,
这个女子的尸体，
Charred skirts and deathmask
烧焦的裙子、死亡面具
Mourned by religious figures, by garlanded children.
宗教人物、戴花环的孩子们在哀悼。
And now detonations——
现在有爆炸声——
Thunder and guns.
雷声、枪声。
The fire’s between us.
战火在我们之间。
Is there no still place
可有安静的地方
Turning and turning in the middle air,
在半空中转动着，转动着，
Untouched and untouchable.
未遭破坏，也不可以破坏。
The train is dragging itself, it is screaming——
火车拖着自己，呼啸着——
An animal
一只动物
Insane for the destination,
疯狂地驶向目的地。
The bloodspot,
那血斑，
The face at the end of the flare.
烈火燃烧之后的那张脸。
I shall bury the wounded like pupas,
我要埋葬像蛹似的伤痛，
I shall count and bury the dead.
我要清点埋葬那些死者。
Let their souls writhe in a dew,
让他们的魂在露水中翻滚，
Incense in my track.
香熏我的行踪。
The carriages rock, they are cradles.
节节车厢摇晃着，它们是摇篮。
And I, stepping from this skin
而我，正从这张皮
Of old bandages, boredoms, old faces
古老的枷锁、厌倦、陈旧的脸中走出
Step up to you from the black car of Lethe,
从遗忘河的黑色车厢走向你
Pure as a baby.
纯洁像婴儿。
(1962/11/06. pp.247—249. No. 200)
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