佩斯卡地羅


                       
                                   by Mark Doty   
                                   February 8, 2010       the New Yorker
                                   翻譯: 一號鐵雄
 

小山羊喜歡我的嘴巴與手指，

有一隻站起倚著鐵網，敲敲圍牆木板
蹄子被牧場的塵土染得更黒，
 
她移動嘴巴接近我的，
好讓我看見小巧方形初萌的牙齒，與勃發的鬍疵，

之後她親我，雖然我知道那意思並不是「親，」

她又將頭後仰，弓起背脊，山羊瑜珈，
充滿喜悅，表示歡迎，之後是沒有惡意的忽略：她愛我，

她有些喜歡我，她對我感興趣，她對我一無所知
或者也不需要，既已如此向我致意。但我全然歡喜，

因為迎接我的是牧場的小代表，分岔的蹄子，
充滿泥土的芬芳，停駐在圍牆木板我手旁邊。



                             Pescadero

The little goats like my mouth and fingers,

and one stands up against the wire fence, and taps on the fence board
a hoof made blacker by the dirt of the field,

pushes her mouth forward to my mouth,
so that I can see the smallish squared seeds of her teeth, and the bristle-whiskers,

and then she kisses me, though I know it doesn’t mean “kiss,”

then leans her head way back, arcing her spine, goat yoga,
all pleasure and greeting and then good-natured indifference: she loves me,

she likes me a lot, she takes interest in me, she doesn’t know me at all
or need to, having thus acknowledged me. Though I am all happiness,

since I have been welcomed by the field’s small envoy, and the splayed hoof,
fragrant with soil, has rested on the fence board beside my hand.