董繼平

瑪麗亞·內(nèi)格羅尼（María Negroni，1951- ），阿根廷著名詩(shī)人、小說(shuō)家，生于羅薩里奧，曾在美國(guó)哥倫比亞大學(xué)攻讀博士學(xué)位，在薩拉勞倫斯學(xué)院執(zhí)教，后來(lái)還擔(dān)任過(guò)紐約大學(xué)的訪(fǎng)問(wèn)教授，先后出版過(guò)十幾部詩(shī)集、兩部長(zhǎng)篇小說(shuō)和五部文論集，詩(shī)集主要有《島嶼》（2001）、《夜間旅程》（2002）及《探戈抒情詩(shī)》《地獄之口》《獻(xiàn)給約瑟夫·康奈爾的哀歌》《圣母領(lǐng)報(bào)》等，作品被翻譯成瑞典、葡萄牙、意大利和法語(yǔ)等多種文字。獲得過(guò)兩屆“阿根廷國(guó)家圖書(shū)獎(jiǎng)”和其他文學(xué)獎(jiǎng)項(xiàng)。

世界并沒(méi)有末日（給查爾斯·西密克）

你沒(méi)打招呼就突然出現(xiàn)了，說(shuō)我看起來(lái)就像是一只水晶高腳杯。你的幽靈重現(xiàn)，仿佛你親吻了我的太陽(yáng)穴。我震驚不已：難道有什么在追逐我們？就在嘴唇之上的一個(gè)瘋狂的念頭？讓我們?cè)谧约旱幕氖徶薪?？婚禮發(fā)生在一個(gè)陰沉的早晨。我們?cè)谟曛袘c祝，降下我們的旗幟。然后，世界開(kāi)始把那會(huì)到達(dá)的幸福重壓在我們身上——我們清楚，它就像電報(bào)一樣，沒(méi)有預(yù)兆就會(huì)到來(lái)。你的耐心無(wú)限，你把我膜拜得就像神話(huà)中的野獸一樣。但那樣讓我受驚，你的眼里有一種奇異的閃爍。為了讓自己分心，我開(kāi)始給事物命名，即把它們隱藏起來(lái)。（說(shuō)話(huà)把我保護(hù)于別的戰(zhàn)爭(zhēng)。）我可能想那樣生活，但語(yǔ)言開(kāi)始在我的手里歪斜，猶如泄露一般讓我著迷。我無(wú)法繼續(xù)下去。我給你留下一幅猶豫的素描（一個(gè)覆蓋在橘黃色的枯花中的半人半羊的農(nóng)牧神）并且離開(kāi)。我開(kāi)始在時(shí)間的孤寂之夜里漸漸隱退：巨大的世界。

THE WORLD DOESNT END（TO CHARLES SIMIC）

Suddenly， unannounced， you appeared， said I looked like a crystal goblet. Your specter reproduced as if youd kissed my temple. I was stunned： was something chasing us？ a mad thought， just above the lip？ drenching us in our own desolation？ The wedding took place on a doleful morning. We celebrated it in the rain， lowering our flags. Afterwards， the world began to weigh on us， the happiness that would arrive—we were certain—without warning， like a telegram. Your patience unlimited， you worshipped me as a mythological beast. But that frightened me， there was a strange glitter in your eyes. To distract myself， I began to name things， that is， to conceal them. （Speaking preserved me from other wars.） I would have lived like that， but language began to skew in my hands， fascinated me like betrayal. I couldnt go on. I left you a hesitant sketch （a faun covered in withered orange blossoms） and went away. I began to fade in the solitary night of time： the enormous world.

睡美人

我越過(guò)了重洋。所有的努力都僅僅是為了去看你。你在太陽(yáng)的岸上的美或者導(dǎo)航，在那張快照中的藍(lán)眼睛，朱莉·克里斯蒂①戴著一頂酒椰帽，長(zhǎng)著盤(pán)狀臉，嘴巴就像什么東西，會(huì)讓人不顧一切地魯莽行事——哦，一道光芒。可是一到達(dá)，我卻發(fā)現(xiàn)你在沉睡、夢(mèng)游，仿佛在等待什么（也許是現(xiàn)實(shí)），仿佛從夜晚逃離的一切都將你置于夜晚深處，在一種薄紗似的期待中搖蕩。難道我到達(dá)得太晚了？我是不是過(guò)于匆忙？我看見(jiàn)你在沉睡，就座于一片藍(lán)色的、三維立體的、令人難以置信地入迷的森林。由于我不知道怎樣喚醒你，我就決定回到我在海洋彼岸的房子。但是我的房子并不存在，它并不屬于我，別人在那里發(fā)號(hào)司令。啊，在你醒來(lái)之前還有多少里程？我們哪一個(gè)活著呢？誰(shuí)會(huì)把我從你那引人入勝的夢(mèng)中釋放出來(lái)？

注：①英國(guó)女演員（1941-），獲得過(guò)奧斯卡最佳女主角獎(jiǎng)。

SLEEPING BEAUTY

I have crossed the ocean. All that effort just to see you. Your beauty or navigations on the banks of the sun， blue eyes in that snapshot， Julie Christie in a raffia hat， dish face， mouth like an incitement to recklessness—oh streak of light. But arriving， I find you asleep， sleepwalking， as if waiting for something（reality， perhaps）， as if all that runs from night had placed you in the depths of night， swung in a gauzy expectation， a death almost unreal. Have I arrived too late？ Was I in too much of a hurry？ I see you sleeping， seated in a blue， three-dimensional， fabulously ecstatic forest. As I dont know how to wake you， I decide to return to my house on the other side of the ocean. But my house does not exist， it isnt mine; others give the orders there. Ah， how many miles before you wake？ Which of us is alive？ Who will free me from your compelling dream？

童 話(huà)

我的父親再婚了，城堡中會(huì)有安寧，盡管并不適合我——我不像我的姐妹們，我憎恨繼母，只乞求父親不要離開(kāi)我，還催促其他人反叛。但其他人并不注意。我的憎恨似乎有一段歷史，源于母親那耐心的狡黠灌輸?shù)轿覂?nèi)心的那種轉(zhuǎn)彎抹角的影響。晚飯時(shí)，在閃閃忽忽的燭光中，我的姐妹們都親吻一只為繼母準(zhǔn)備的小長(zhǎng)頸瓶，作為吉祥的象征。除了我，大家都一再親吻吧。繼母露出天使般的笑容。她宣布，一艘船將載著她們前往倫敦。在笑聲和擁抱中，在桉樹(shù)的銀白色影子中，她們都離開(kāi)了。我留在護(hù)城壕的這一邊，獨(dú)自待在塔頂?shù)拈w樓中，憤恨，驕傲，擔(dān)憂(yōu)著一場(chǎng)大結(jié)局虛幻的萌芽。我是大膽的女孩，冰冷且固執(zhí)得猶如悲傷，一個(gè)尋找她的兇手的犧牲者。但我不會(huì)從死亡中獲得成功。爸爸不會(huì)偏袒某一邊。

FAIRYTALE

My father has married again and there would be peace in the castle if it werent for me who， unlike my sisters， hates the stepmother; I do nothing but beg my father not to leave me and urge the others to rebel. But no one pays attention. It seems that my hatred has a history; comes from the tortuous affection Mothers patient cunning forced in me. While we dine， in the fugitive candlelight， my sisters kiss a small flask intended for the stepmother， an auspicious token. Everyone repeats the kiss except for me. The stepmother smiles like an angel. She announces that a ship will take them to London. All of them leave， among laughter and embraces and the silvery shadow of eucalyptus trees. I remain on this side of the moat， alone in the tower garret， resentful， proud， worrying the illusory embryo of a finale. I am a bold girl， icy or stubborn as grief， a victim in search of her murderer. But I do not succeed in dying. Papa will not take sides.