双语·《西尔维娅·普拉斯诗集》 爸爸
Daddy
爸爸
You do not do, you do not do
你不要，你不要做
Any more, black shoe
再也不做，黑色的鞋子
In which I have lived like a foot
我像只脚，住在里面
For thirty years, poor and white,
已经三十年，贫困又苍白，
Barely daring to breathe or Achoo.
我不敢呼吸也不敢打喷嚏。
Daddy, I have had to kill you.
爸爸，我早该杀了你，
You died before I had time——
我有时间前你就死了——
Marble-heavy, a bag full of God,
沉重如大理石，装满上帝的袋子，
Ghastly statue with one gray toe
可怕的雕像长着一个灰脚趾
Big as a Frisco seal
像旧金山的海豹那样大
And a head in the freakish Atlantic
而头倚在畸形的大西洋上
Where it pours bean green over blue
那儿大西洋将豆绿抛向蓝色
In the waters off beautiful Nauset.
的水域，美丽的瑙塞特。
I used to pray to recover you.
我过去常祈求你复活。
Ach, du.
啊，你。
In the German tongue, in the Polish town
说德国话，住波兰镇
Scraped flat by the roller
那个被战争，战争，战争的
Of wars, wars, wars.
滚压机碾平的小镇。
But the name of the town is common.
而小镇的名却也普通。
My Polack friend
我的波兰朋友
Says there are a dozen or two.
说有一打或两打之多。
So I never could tell where you
所以我从来无法说清
Put your foot, your root,
你到过何处，根在何处。
I never could talk to you.
我从来无法跟你说话
The tongue stuck in my jaw.
那语言卡在我的下颌。
It stuck in a barb wire snare.
卡在有倒钩的钢丝圈里。
Ich, ich, ich, ich,
我，我，我，我，
I could hardly speak.
我几乎无法说话。
I thought every German was you.
我原以为每个德国人是你
And the language obscene
但这语言污秽
An engine, an engine
火车头，火车头
Chuffing me off like a Jew.
把我带走，像犹太人。
A Jew to Dachau, Auschwitz, Belsen.
去达豪、奥斯维辛、贝尔森的犹太人。
I began to talk like a Jew.
我开始说话，像犹太人。
I think I may well be a Jew.
我想我很可能是犹太人。
The snows of the Tyrol, the clear beer of Vienna
蒂罗尔的雪，维也纳的清啤酒
Are not very pure or true.
不太纯也不真实。
With my gipsy ancestress and my weird luck
我有吉卜赛女祖先，我的奇特命运
And my Taroc pack and my Taroc pack
我有塔罗克纸牌，我的塔罗克纸牌
I may be a bit of a Jew.
我也许有几分像犹太人。
I have always been scared of you,
我一直都害怕你，
With your Luftwaffe, your gobbledygoo.
你的德国空军，你的官腔，
And your neat mustache
还有你整齐的胡子
And your Aryan eye, bright blue.
你的雅利安眼睛，明亮的蓝，
Panzer-man, panzer-man, O You——
装甲兵，装甲兵，哦你——
Not God but a swastika
不是上帝，而是卐字饰，
So black no sky could squeak through.
漆黑得连夜空也无法比拟。
Every woman adores a Fascist,
每个女人崇拜法西斯分子，
The boot in the face, the brute
野蛮的靴子，踢在人脸上
Brute heart of a brute like you.
野蛮的心长在野兽身上像你。
You stand at the blackboard, daddy,
你就站在黑板旁，爸爸，
In the picture I have of you,
我有你的这张照片，
A cleft in your chin instead of your foot
你的下巴有裂痕，不是脚，
But no less a devil for that, no not
但你依然是魔鬼，不比
Any less the black man who
那黑衣人差劲，那个人
Bit my pretty red heart in two.
将我红色的心咬成两半。
I was ten when they buried you.
我十岁时他们埋葬了你。
At twenty I tried to die
二十岁时我尝试去死
And get back, back, back to you.
想回到，回到，回到你的身边。
I thought even the bones would do.
我原想变成白骨也情愿。
But they pulled me out of the sack,
但他们把我从袋里拖出，
And they stuck me together with glue.
他们用胶水把我拼粘好。
And then I knew what to do.
那时我才清楚该做什么。
I made a model of you,
我以你为原型做了一个，
A man in black with a Meinkampf look
黑衣男人，带着《我的奋斗》之神色
And a love of the rack and the screw.
而且酷爱刑架和螺丝钉。
And I said I do, I do.
于是我说，我愿，我愿。
So daddy, I’m finally through.
但爸爸，我最终了结了。
The black telephone’s off at the root,
黑色的电话线连根断开，
The voices just can’t worm through.
声音再也无法缓慢通过。
If I’ve killed one man, I’ve killed two——
若我杀死一个男人，我杀了俩——
The vampire who said he was you
那吸血鬼曾说他就是你
And drank my blood for a year,
他吸我的血也有年头了，
Seven years, if you want to know.
告诉你吧，已有七年了。
Daddy, you can lie back now.
爸爸，你现在可以安息。
There’s a stake in your fat black heart
木桩插在你肥胖的黑色心脏上，
And the villagers never liked you.
村民们从来不曾喜欢你。
They are dancing and stamping on you.
他们踩在你身上跳着舞，
They always knew it was you.
他们一直清楚这就是你。
Daddy, daddy, you bastard, I’m through.
爸爸，爸爸，你这混蛋，我受够了。
(1962/10/12. pp.222—224. No. 183)
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