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< >Moore, Marianne, 1887–1972, American poet, b. St. Louis, grad. Bryn Mawr College, 1909. She lived mostly in New York City, working first as a librarian and later as acting editor of the Dial (1925–29). Her poetry, constructed like a precise mosaic, is witty, intellectual, and often satirical. Volumes of her verse include Poems (1921), Observations (1924), What Are Years? (1941), Collected Poems (1951; Pulitzer Prize), O to Be a Dragon (1959), and Complete Poems (1967). Among her other works are the translation The Fables of La Fontaine (1954) and the essays Predilections (1955).</P>
< >玛丽安娜•穆尔,1887-1972,美国诗人,生于圣路易斯安纳州,1909年毕业于布林莫尔学院。大部分时间生活在纽约,起初是一名图书管理员,之后成为《日晷》(1925-1929)代理主编。她的诗的构造犹如精致的镶嵌术,机智、知性,经常善于讽刺。诗集包括:《诗》(1921)、《观察》(1924)、《何年何月?》(1941)、《诗选》(1951,普利策奖)、《哦,做一条龙》(1959)以及《诗全集》(1967)。其他尚有翻译作品《拉封丹寓言集》(1954)和随笔集《嗜好》(1955)。</P>
< ><br>A Grave<br>Marianne Moore<br><br>Man looking into the sea, <br>taking the view from those who have as much right to it as<br> you have to it yourself,<br>it is human nature to stand in the middle of a thing, <br>but you cannot stand in the middle of this;<br>the sea has nothing to give but a well excavated grave. <br>The first stand in a procession, each with an emerald turkey-<br> foot at the top,<br>reserved as their contours, saying nothing;<br>repression, however, is not the most obvious characteristic of<br> the sea;<br>the sea is a collector, quick to return a rapacious look.<br>There are others besides you who have worn that look --<br>whose expression is no longer a protest; the fish no longer<br> investigate them<br>for their bones have not lasted:<br>men lower nets, unconscious of the fact that they are<br> desecrating a grave, <br>and row quickly away -- the blades of the oars <br>moving together like the feet of water-spiders as if there were<br> no such thing as death.<br>The wrinkles progress among themselves in a phalanx -- beautiful <br> under networks of foam,<br>and fade breathlessly while the sea rustles in and out of the<br> seaweed;<br>the birds swim through the air at top speed, emitting cat-calls<br> as heretofore --<br>the tortoise-shell scourges about the feet of the cliffs, in motion<br> beneath them;<br>and the ocean, under the pulsation of lighthouses and noise of<br> bell-buoys,<br>advances as usual, looking as if it were not that ocean in which<br> dropped things are bound to sink –<br>in which if they turn and twist, it is neither with volition nor<br> consciousness. <br><br>《坟墓》<br>(美国)玛丽安娜•穆尔<br>胡桑译</P>
< >一个男人窥视大海,<br>从那些对它具有权力(就像你拥有的一样多)的人们那里<br> 捕获风景,<br>想站在事物的中心是人的天性,<br>但你不能站在这中心;<br>海不能给出什么除了一个开凿得很好的坟墓。<br>前头的人站成一列,每人托着一只祖母绿火鸡——<br> 脚举到最高,<br>他们保持着形态,一声不吭;<br>但是,压制不是海最鲜明的<br> 特征;<br>海是一名收藏家,快速归还一个贪婪的眼神。<br>站在你旁边的人已经磨损了那种眼神——<br>他们不再具有反抗者的表情;鱼不再<br> 探访他们,因为他们的骨头已经朽坏:<br>男人们降低渔网,丝毫没有意识到他们在<br> 亵渎坟墓,<br>他们划着船很开地离去——桨叶<br>一起摇摆,就像水蜘蛛的脚,他们似乎<br> 一点也不像死人。<br>水的皱纹成群结队地独自前行——那么美丽<br> 在塑料渔网下面,<br>屏着气息消失,而海水在海草内外<br> 沙沙作响;<br>鸟疾速游过天空,发出嘘嘘声<br> 就像从前——<br>龟甲在悬崖脚下相互撞击,十分兴奋<br> 在鸟群的下面;<br>而海洋,在灯塔的跳动和装铃浮标的<br> 声响中,<br>一如既往地上涨,看起来并不像那海洋,那里<br> 落水之物都要沉没——<br>即使它们在里边翻转、扭动,这无需决心和<br> 意识。</P><br>
[此贴子已经被作者于2007-5-24 9:57:50编辑过] |
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