英國貴族女詩人Edith Sitwell作品選譯

[kama]

[灰水晶鈴鐺]
--Dame Edith Sitwell (1887-1964)

灰水晶鈴鐺
碎在每個枝頭上--
那群天鵝的喘息朦朧了
此刻冰冷的空氣。
如高聳的佛塔
有兩人行走，
拖曳著對談的長長餘音
他們穿越雪地。
此情此景如此寂寞
還有寂寞與我…
有雲朵朵，一隻隻中國灰雁
滑翔於天際。

[Bells of gray crystal]

Bells of gray crystal
Break on each bough--
The swans' breath will mist all
The cold airs now.
Like tall pagodas
Two people go,
Trail their long codas
Of talk through the snow.
Lonely are these
And lonely and I ....
The clouds, gray Chinese geese
Sleek through the sky.


[梨樹]
--Dame Edith Sitwell (1887-1964)

在海洋琥珀色的通道之間
熱騰騰的金羊毛掛在我的樹梢；
我的肌膚也一樣的明麗…
來吧，風兒，撫平我的肌膚，明麗如你的吻！

黯然，黯然，比不過法蒂瑪的金色肌膚，
我的金羊毛如此嘆息
「她是從熱力中誕生的閃耀露珠，
她是窈窕的瞪羚，是天堂中躍動的太陽。」

來吧，努比亞的陰影，來撫平捲曲的金羊毛，
直到你修長黝黑又變幻不定的雙手
剝開我的梨，那是團金色的雲，
裡面的核，如裂紋的琥珀沁涼於水中。

閃耀吧，法蒂瑪，我的太陽，現出妳金色的臉龐
穿越駝鳥羽飾的鹵簿屏障，自上方俯瞰
我一顆顆熟透的果實將感受到急墜的閃亮雨露，
直到我在妳腳下傾瀉我金色的愛。


[The Peach Tree]

Between the amber portals of the sea
The gilded fleece of heat hangs on my tree;
My skin is bright as this…
Come, wind, and smooth my skin, bright as your kiss!

Less bright, less bright than Fatima’s gold skin,
My gilded fleece that sighs
‘She is the glittering dew born of the heat,
She is that young gazelle, the leaping Sun of Paradise.’

Come, Nubian shade, smooth the gilt fleece’s curl,
Until your long dark fluid hands unfold
My peach, that cloud of gold,
Its kernel, cracking amber water-cold.

Shine, Fatima, my Sun, show your gold face
Through panached ostrich plumes of leaves, then from above
My ripening fruits will feel the bright dew fall apace,
Till at your feet I pour my golden love.

[kama]

[草莓]
--Dame Edith Sitwell (1887-1964)

在我毛茸茸的葉子下你看見
草莓悄悄地蔓延
於金色的網上
被露水的點點足跡弄得更濕潤。

穆罕默德憩息在金色的雲際
夢見了草莓
由泛紫羅紗似的熱氣蘊育而成
而碧玉的粉塵是他金色的雙足踐履所致，——

碧玉粉塵落在
湧泉四周
其水沁涼如青色鋯石，
水上點點漣漪如嵌金的馬賽克畫面
使我的綠葉既寬闊又水涼。

從最疏闊的葉面之間的宮室裡
我的太陽，我的法蒂瑪，
顯露出她金色的臉孔與肢體，
讓黑暗垂死。

正午時分我的法蒂瑪，我明麗的瞪羚，
漫步在每個羅紗似的盅鈴狀的
草莓之間，那泛紫之氣蘊育成的
就是那種熱力，而就在那兒
當法蒂瑪，我的沾露金蓮，
如天際的音樂款款走來
照耀的我莓果直到這些金色的足跡消亡——
如滾燙的太陽離開了所有閃亮的沙漠那樣。


[The Strawberry]

Beneath my dog-furred leaves you see
The creeping strawberry
In a gold net
The footprints of the dew have made more wet.

Mahomet resting on a cloud of gold
Dreamed of the strawberry
Made of the purpling gauzy heat
And jasper dust trod by his golden feet, —

The jasper dust beside
The fountain tide,
The water jacynth-cold,
The water-ripples like mosaics gold
Have made my green leaves wide and water-cold.

From palaces among the widest leaves
My Sun, my Fatima,
Shows her gold face and sighs,
And darkness dies.

At noon my Fatima, my bright gazelle,
Walks by each gauzy bell
Of strawberries made of such purpling air
As the heat knows, and there
When Fatima, my dew with golden foot,
Comes like all the music of the air
Then shine my berries till those golden footsteps die—
Like all the glittering desert of the air when the hot sun goes by.