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Selected poems：里爾克的《愛之歌》
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Selected poems：里爾克的《愛之歌》
書名：愛之歌
作者：萊內·馬利亞·里爾克
譯者：林克
出版社：人民文學出版社
出版日期：2024/04
〈愛之歌〉
我該怎樣抑制我的靈魂，不讓它
觸動你的靈魂？我該怎樣讓它
越過你趨向別的事物？
啊，我多想替它找個幽暗的去處，
靠近某個失落之物，
⼀個陌⽣⽽寂靜的地⽅，
不會隨你的深⼼⼀同振盪。
可是那打動我倆的⼀切
把你我連在⼀起，像琴⼸
從兩根弦上拉出⼀個⾳符。
我倆被繃在哪件樂器上？
哪位琴師把我倆握在⼿中？
哦，甜美的歌。
Love Song
How should I keep my soul
from touching yours? How should I
lift it beyond you toward other things?
Ah, I would gladly shelter it
in darkness with some lost thing,
on some remote unsounding place
that doesn’t tremble, when your depths stir.
Yet everything that touches you or me
takes us together like a bow’s stroke
that from two strings draws one voice.
Across what instrument are we stretched?
And what player holds us in his hand?
O sweet song.
〈詩⼈〉
時⾠，你漸漸離我⽽去。
你擊翅正擊出我的創傷。
只是：我該拿我的嘴做什麼？
拿我的⿊夜？拿我的⽩天？
我沒有愛⼈，沒有家園，
也沒有安⾝⽴業之處。
我只是將⾃⼰獻給萬物，
萬物變得豐富並將我給出。
The Poet
You’re withdrawing from me, you hour.
The beating of your wings leaves me bruised.
Alone: what shall I do with my mouth?
with my night? with my day?
I have no loved one, no house,
no place to lead a life.
All the things to which I give myself
grow rich and spend me.
〈藍⾊繡球花〉
如像顏料盤中最後的綠
這些葉⽚，乾枯、暗淡⽽粗糙，
在傘狀花序後⾯，⽽花序並未
穿著⼀種藍，只是遠遠映現。
它們映現它，哭過⽽且模糊，
似乎它們⼜要失去它，
有如在陳舊的藍⾊信箋裡
它們裡面有⻩、紫和灰；
洗得褪⾊了像⼀條兒童圍裙，
不再被穿著的，什麼也不再發⽣：
令⼈感慨⼀個⼩⽣命之短暫。
但突然那藍⾊好像在更新
在某個花序裡，於是⼈們看見
⼀朵迷⼈的⼩藍花在綠葉前歡喜。
Blue Hydrangea
These leaves are like the last green paint
in the color pans, dry, dull, and rough,
behind clustered blooms whose blue is not
their own, only mirrored from far away.
They mirror it tear-stained and vaguely,
as though they wished to lose it once again;
and as with old blue letter paper
there is yellow in them, violet and gray;
washed out as on a child’s apron,
the no-longer-worn that nothing more befalls:
how one feels a small life’s shortness.
But suddenly the blue seems to revive
in one of the clusters, and you see
a touching blue’s rejoicing in green.
〈相遇在栗⼦樹林蔭⼤道上〉
他被⼊⼝那⼀⽚綠⾊幽暗
清涼如⼀襲絲綢袍⼦所籠罩
他還是披上並理順：此時正好
在另⼀個透明的盡頭，很遠，
從綠⾊陽光中，像是從綠玻璃中，
⽩⽩的有⼀個孤單的形象
突然閃亮，似欲久久停頓
並最終——灑下來的強光
每⼀步都流過它全⾝，
將⾝上的⼀種光亮變幻馱過來，
這變幻在淡⻩⾊中膽怯地退去。
但是陰影⼀下⼦變得深厚，
⽽臨近的雙眼已經打開
在⼀張臉上，⼜新⼜清晰，
這張臉在⼀幅肖像上逗留
⽚刻，⽽此時兩⼈⼜分⼿：
先漸⾏漸遠，隨後彼此消失。
Encounter in the Chestnut Avenue
He felt the entrance’s green darkness
wrapped coolly round him like a silken cloak
that he was still accepting and arranging;
when at the opposite transparent end, far off,
through green sunlight, as through green windowpanes,
whitely a solitary shape
flared up, long remaining distant
and then finally, the downdriving light
boiling over it at every step,
bearing on itself a bright pulsation,
which in the blond ran shyly to the back.
But suddenly the shade was deep,
and nearby eyes lay gazing
from a clear new unselfconscious face,
which, as in a portrait, lived intensely
in the instant things split off again:
first there forever, and then not at all.
〈閱讀者〉
誰認識此⼈，他將他的臉
從存在垂向另⼀種存在，
它只是偶爾被強⾏中斷，
當新的⼀⻚被匆匆翻開？
就連他的⺟親恐怕也拿不准，
是否他在那⾥，以影⼦為友，
讀著浸濕的⽂字。⽽我們有過時光，
但知道什麼；多少時光已逝去，
直到他吃⼒地往上看：將下⾯
書中的⼀切提升並承載於⾃⾝，
以他的⽬光，並⾮占取，它給予
並達及那個世界，完滿⽽豐盈：
像沉靜的孩童，曾獨⾃玩遊戲，
突然間對現實有了體驗；
它那些井井有條的特徵
卻已經永遠被改變。
The Reader
Who knows him, this youth who’s let his face sink down
from his own existence to a second one,
which only the quick turning of full pages
sometimes violently interrupts?
Even his mother would not be sure
it’s he who sits there reading something
saturated with his shadow. And we, who have hours,
how can we know how much of him was lost
before with effort he looked up: raising to himself
all that inhered in the book’s depths,
with eyes which, instead of taking, bumped
givingly into the full-finished world:
the way quiet children, who have played alone,
suddenly experience what’s at hand;
but his features, which were in order,
remained forever recomposed.
英譯：
Translation copyright © 1987 by Edward Snow
書名：愛之歌
作者：萊內·馬利亞·里爾克
譯者：林克
出版社：人民文學出版社
出版日期：2024/04
〈愛之歌〉
我該怎樣抑制我的靈魂，不讓它
觸動你的靈魂？我該怎樣讓它
越過你趨向別的事物？
啊，我多想替它找個幽暗的去處，
靠近某個失落之物，
⼀個陌⽣⽽寂靜的地⽅，
不會隨你的深⼼⼀同振盪。
可是那打動我倆的⼀切
把你我連在⼀起，像琴⼸
從兩根弦上拉出⼀個⾳符。
我倆被繃在哪件樂器上？
哪位琴師把我倆握在⼿中？
哦，甜美的歌。
Love Song
How should I keep my soul
from touching yours? How should I
lift it beyond you toward other things?
Ah, I would gladly shelter it
in darkness with some lost thing,
on some remote unsounding place
that doesn’t tremble, when your depths stir.
Yet everything that touches you or me
takes us together like a bow’s stroke
that from two strings draws one voice.
Across what instrument are we stretched?
And what player holds us in his hand?
O sweet song.
〈詩⼈〉
時⾠，你漸漸離我⽽去。
你擊翅正擊出我的創傷。
只是：我該拿我的嘴做什麼？
拿我的⿊夜？拿我的⽩天？
我沒有愛⼈，沒有家園，
也沒有安⾝⽴業之處。
我只是將⾃⼰獻給萬物，
萬物變得豐富並將我給出。
The Poet
You’re withdrawing from me, you hour.
The beating of your wings leaves me bruised.
Alone: what shall I do with my mouth?
with my night? with my day?
I have no loved one, no house,
no place to lead a life.
All the things to which I give myself
grow rich and spend me.
〈藍⾊繡球花〉
如像顏料盤中最後的綠
這些葉⽚，乾枯、暗淡⽽粗糙，
在傘狀花序後⾯，⽽花序並未
穿著⼀種藍，只是遠遠映現。
它們映現它，哭過⽽且模糊，
似乎它們⼜要失去它，
有如在陳舊的藍⾊信箋裡
它們裡面有⻩、紫和灰；
洗得褪⾊了像⼀條兒童圍裙，
不再被穿著的，什麼也不再發⽣：
令⼈感慨⼀個⼩⽣命之短暫。
但突然那藍⾊好像在更新
在某個花序裡，於是⼈們看見
⼀朵迷⼈的⼩藍花在綠葉前歡喜。
Blue Hydrangea
These leaves are like the last green paint
in the color pans, dry, dull, and rough,
behind clustered blooms whose blue is not
their own, only mirrored from far away.
They mirror it tear-stained and vaguely,
as though they wished to lose it once again;
and as with old blue letter paper
there is yellow in them, violet and gray;
washed out as on a child’s apron,
the no-longer-worn that nothing more befalls:
how one feels a small life’s shortness.
But suddenly the blue seems to revive
in one of the clusters, and you see
a touching blue’s rejoicing in green.
〈相遇在栗⼦樹林蔭⼤道上〉
他被⼊⼝那⼀⽚綠⾊幽暗
清涼如⼀襲絲綢袍⼦所籠罩
他還是披上並理順：此時正好
在另⼀個透明的盡頭，很遠，
從綠⾊陽光中，像是從綠玻璃中，
⽩⽩的有⼀個孤單的形象
突然閃亮，似欲久久停頓
並最終——灑下來的強光
每⼀步都流過它全⾝，
將⾝上的⼀種光亮變幻馱過來，
這變幻在淡⻩⾊中膽怯地退去。
但是陰影⼀下⼦變得深厚，
⽽臨近的雙眼已經打開
在⼀張臉上，⼜新⼜清晰，
這張臉在⼀幅肖像上逗留
⽚刻，⽽此時兩⼈⼜分⼿：
先漸⾏漸遠，隨後彼此消失。
Encounter in the Chestnut Avenue
He felt the entrance’s green darkness
wrapped coolly round him like a silken cloak
that he was still accepting and arranging;
when at the opposite transparent end, far off,
through green sunlight, as through green windowpanes,
whitely a solitary shape
flared up, long remaining distant
and then finally, the downdriving light
boiling over it at every step,
bearing on itself a bright pulsation,
which in the blond ran shyly to the back.
But suddenly the shade was deep,
and nearby eyes lay gazing
from a clear new unselfconscious face,
which, as in a portrait, lived intensely
in the instant things split off again:
first there forever, and then not at all.
〈閱讀者〉
誰認識此⼈，他將他的臉
從存在垂向另⼀種存在，
它只是偶爾被強⾏中斷，
當新的⼀⻚被匆匆翻開？
就連他的⺟親恐怕也拿不准，
是否他在那⾥，以影⼦為友，
讀著浸濕的⽂字。⽽我們有過時光，
但知道什麼；多少時光已逝去，
直到他吃⼒地往上看：將下⾯
書中的⼀切提升並承載於⾃⾝，
以他的⽬光，並⾮占取，它給予
並達及那個世界，完滿⽽豐盈：
像沉靜的孩童，曾獨⾃玩遊戲，
突然間對現實有了體驗；
它那些井井有條的特徵
卻已經永遠被改變。
The Reader
Who knows him, this youth who’s let his face sink down
from his own existence to a second one,
which only the quick turning of full pages
sometimes violently interrupts?
Even his mother would not be sure
it’s he who sits there reading something
saturated with his shadow. And we, who have hours,
how can we know how much of him was lost
before with effort he looked up: raising to himself
all that inhered in the book’s depths,
with eyes which, instead of taking, bumped
givingly into the full-finished world:
the way quiet children, who have played alone,
suddenly experience what’s at hand;
but his features, which were in order,
remained forever recomposed.
英譯：
Translation copyright © 1987 by Edward Snow
自訂分類：Selected & Extracts
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