威尔士当代诗歌汉译|杰森•沃尔弗德•戴维斯（中篇）

【原诗汉译欣赏】：

第一首

［威尔士语］

‘Nac Ofnwch’

Yn ystod yr Ail Ryfel Byd defnyddiwyd rhannau o’r Preseli gan y Swyddfa Ryfel fel meysydd tanio.

‘Mrs Parri Roberts, widow of the minister of Bethel [Mynachlog-ddu], still remembers vividly the intense flashes of light during night practices, the passes which the villagers had to show when crossing the mountain, and the farmers on the periphery of the firing zone, who, fearing that their houses would be hit, had taken to sleeping in the fields.’

– Janet Davies, ‘The Fight For Preseli, 1946’, Planet, 58 (Awst / Medi 1986)

Ar y mynyddoedd, bugeiliaid newydd,

yn hepian cysgu yn y caeau trwm.

Pa fudd y ‘Nac ofnwch’ o’r tu hwnt i’r tywydd, 

a magnelau’n y meysydd yn hollti’r brwyn?

Tir neb i’r rhai hyn oedd tir henebion:

y ffermdai’n wag – lle yn y llety – tanciau

fel cromlechau’n cerdded. Aeth meini hirion

yn nod i bractis targed – y pelennau’n

naddu o’r newydd hic iacet arnynt.

A daeth eto’r awr i drethu’r hollfyd,

i roi rhif ar ddynion, eu dal mewn pasiant

ar lwybrau’r bryniau: ‘Name? Number? Proceed

with caution’ (doethion, hurweision Herod-

draeth y rhyfel cyfiawn yn eu helfen).

Ac yn ngwawl taflegrau, y preiddiau’n gwylied

gwŷr a syrthiodd heno i blith lladron:

bugeiliaid yn ysig yng nghleisiau’r cloddiau,

yn dyheu am y diwedd yn rhwymau’u cadachau.

［英语］

‘Fear Not’

During the Second World War, areas of the Preseli Hills in Pembrokeshire, South Wales, were used by the War Office as firing ranges.

 ‘Mrs Parri Roberts, widow of the minister of Bethel [a chapel in the village of Mynachlog-ddu], still remembers vividly the intense flashes of light during night practices, the passes which the villagers had to show when crossing the mountain, and the farmers on the periphery of the firing zone, who, fearing that their houses would be hit, had taken to sleeping in the fields.’ 

– Janet Davies, ‘The Fight For Preseli, 1946’, Planet, 58 (August / September 1986)

On the hills, new shepherds,                                                                                          

their sleep light in the heavy fields.

What use those words, ‘Fear Not’, from another climate   

with big guns shredding the meadows’ rushes? 

For these soldiers, a land of ancient monuments 

was no-man’s land: the farmhouses empty –

yes, room at the inn – tanks like burial chambers walking.

Standing stones became practice targets,  

bullets carving ‘Here Lies’ on them anew. 

It was time once more for a universal census: 

a naming, a numbering of people, halting them  

in a pageant on mountain paths –

‘Name? Number? Proceed with caution’, they said, 

these wise men, Herod’s hirelings, at home in a righteous war. 

And tonight, in the strange light of missiles, flocks   

keeping watch over men, fallen among thieves:   

shepherds lying bruised in ditches, 

bound in swaddling clothes, longing for the end.

［中文译本］

“莫怕”

杰森•W•戴维斯 作

许景城 译

二战期间，英国军事指挥部把威尔士南部彭布罗克郡的普勒瑟利山地变为靶场。

“帕里•罗伯茨夫人是弥纳克罗格村贝瑟尔教堂牧师的遗孀，她至今还记得夜间作战那历历在目的强烈灯光，记得村民每次进出山时必须出示通行证的情形，记得靶场外的农民，他们害怕自己房屋被袭击，不得不睡在田野上。”

– 珍妮特•戴维斯, “为普勒瑟利而战，1946”，《星球》，58 （1986年8月/9月）

山上新来牧羊人，

提心吊胆，睡在沉重的田野上。

大枪大炮轰隆声，草地撕裂声，恐惧顿起，

“莫怕”这安慰，将何用之有？

古迹文明区本是

士兵之禁区，如今农舍客栈空荡荡，

坦克横行，犹如行走墓室一般。

屹立之石，演练之靶，

子弹为之重新刻上“这里躺着”的字眼。

全民盘查时刻再次来临：

各进出山口，列兵哨岗，

拦截盘问路人–

“名字？编号？小心行走”

聪明之士，希律王之虎伥，以正义之名，行战争之事。

今夜，导弹灯光奇异，

盗贼肆虐，男丁遭袭，羊群守护：

牧羊人负伤，躺于壕沟，

裹着襁褓，渴望死神来临。

第二首

第六首

［威尔士语］

Mandala Llwch Glo

i Olive M. Powell

Yng ngwanwyn 2012 bu i’r artist Jonathan Anderson gynnal arddangosfa o’i waith yn Oriel Myrddin, Caerfyrddin, lle y gosodwyd ar fyrddau dros 400 o ‘fandalâu’ a luniwyd o lwch glo. 

Y mae safle golfa Cynheidre, Sir Gaerfyrddin, bellach yn fferm – Ffynnon y Menyn – lle y megir cobiau Cymreig a lle y nytha cornicyllod. ‘I remember the horses coming in with their fetlocks covered in coal dust,’ meddai’r perchennog wrthyf.

Wrth blygu pen, ry’n ni’n dyrchafu’n

llygaid. Mae pegynau’n simsanu.

Gwelais danddaearolion yn codi’n 

wybrol, dyfnderoedd rhwth 

yn ddyrchafedig, yn ddrych i’r gofod. 

Dewch draw a sefwch wrth fandala’r 

ffenest: fe welwch fod y llwch 

yn gosmig. Yn yr awyr anthraséit, 

y tu hwnt i chwarae plant lloerennau, 

mae sêr Orion yn mapio symudiadau 

lamp fy nhad-cu ar ffas y nos. 

Mae’r fflam yn farw, yr heuliau’n 

oer, ond eu golau’n dal i’n cyrraedd 

drwy’r tywyllwch cyndyn. 

A heno difera’r Llwybr Llaethog 

dros y fferm flith a fu unwaith yn Gynheidre. 

Lle bu’r tyrau mae cobiau Cymreig 

yn peswch yn eu cwsg. Ar y tipiau 

ir, breuddwydia cornicyllod 

yn eu nythod rhwng y carnau. Yfory

daw’r meirch ar draws y caeau 

â llwch du’n sêr ar eu pedolau.

［英语］

Coal Dust Mandala

for Olive M. Powell

In the spring of 2012, an exhibition of work by the artist Jonathan Anderson was held at Oriel Myrddin in Carmarthen, where over 400 ‘mandalas’, made from coal dust, were displayed on tables in the gallery.

The site of Cynheidre coal pit in Carmarthenshire is now a farm – Fferm Ffynnon y Menyn – where horses (Welsh cobs) are bred, and where lapwings nest. ‘I remember the horses coming in with their fetlocks covered in coal dust,’ the owner once told me.

Bowing our heads, we lift 

our eyes. Poles become unsteady. 

I saw things from deepest earth  

rising  skywards, gaping depths  

raised up, mirroring starry space. 

Come now, and stand here 

by the window’s mandala: see,  

the very dust is cosmic. In the anthracite sky, 

beyond the child’s play of satellites, 

the stars of Orion map the movements 

of my grandfather’s lamp on the night’s coalface:

its flame is dead, suns have grown cold,

yet their light still reaches us  

across the stubborn dark. 

And tonight the Milky Way shoots stars 

over the white farm that once was Cynheidre.

Where the towers stood, Welsh cobs cough 

in their sleep. On the reclaimed tips, 

lapwings dream in their nests among the hoof marks. 

Tomorrow, stallions will come across the fields, 

black dust like stars on their shoes.

［中文译本］

煤灰曼荼罗

献给奥利芙•M•鲍威尔

杰森•W•戴维斯 作

许景城 译

2012年春，乔纳森•安德逊艺术展在威尔士卡马森郡米尔汀画廊举办，大约400枚原材料皆是煤灰的曼荼罗在展厅桌上展出。

辛黑德煤矿位于卡马森郡，如今已为农场，叫做 梅尼泉农场 , 蓄养着威尔士矮脚马和凤头麦鸡。场主告诉我：“记得马儿归来时，蹄后丛毛皆覆盖了一层煤灰”。

低头弯腰，直起双眼。

两极微震，天地混沌。

只见地底最深处

飞起一团物，腾空而上，

裂缝深渊中，呈现繁星闪闪。

过来，站这儿

临窗立于曼荼罗旁：瞧，

煤灰宇宙。天空灰色，

越过人类幼稚卫星之术,

透过猎户星，映现出我祖父

夜晚提着煤油灯，采煤情形历历在目：

如今火焰已熄，热源已冷，

然其光线仍可穿透冥顽不灵之黑暗

到达我们心中。

今宵，银河派遣繁星驻足

在曾是辛黑德煤矿的洁白农场上空。

烟囱耸立处，威尔士矮脚马，

睡中咳喘。不远处开垦地，

马蹄印随处可见，凤头麦鸡筑巢于此，熟睡美梦中。

明天，种马将驰骋旷野，来到这里，

马蹄也将裹上繁星似的黑尘。

第三首

［威尔士语］

o ‘Egni’ – I. Crair

Ar fy nesg mae crair 

mwy sanctaidd na’r Groes Naid.

Fe’i cipiwyd o laid yr Annwfn o dan y cwm.

Daw’n fyw liw nos dan y lamp.

I fyny drwy ei siafftiau du

daw golau all ddenu dynion dall

o wyll eu tai. O’i fewn mae aeonau’n

ymegnïo; cywasgwyd bydoedd ynddo.

O’i ddal at fy nghlust clywaf guro

moroedd y cynfyd ar eu traethau coll,

sgrechfeydd y creigiau wrth i’r gwres

doddi tiroedd yn gyfandiroedd, wrth i dân

eu chwythu’n egstatig ar wahân 

drachefn. Ac yn ddwndwr parhaus o’i berferdd,

sŵn y maen awyr yn agosáu.

* * *

Sŵn fel hwn, mae’n rhaid, a glywodd yntau,

fy nhad-cu, a’r ffrwydrad ar y ffas 

yn ei gyrchu drwy’r twnelau, fel carlwm

ar ôl cwningen. Dihangodd, a chyrraedd rhyddid

y gaets a’i cododd – a’i hatgyfododd? –

i wynder syn wynebau’r plant a’r gwragedd.

Ac yn ei law, fy nghrair – talp o lo

o bwll Cynheidre. Crair aruthr ei chiaroscuro.

［英语］

from ‘Egni’ – I. Relic

On my desk, a relic more holy

than the Croes Naid. It was pulled from the mire 

of the Underworld beneath the valley. 

At night, under the lamp, it comes alive. 

Up through its black shafts 

comes a light that can call blind men 

from the gloom of their houses. Within it 

aeons start to stir; whole worlds are here

compressed. Holding it to my ear 

I hear primeval seas beating on lost beaches, 

the rocks’ screams as the heat 

melds lands into continents, as fire 

blows them apart ecstatically again. 

And that constant rumbling in its darkest reaches:

the sound of the meteor approaching.

* * *

He, my grandfather, must have heard  

a similar sound, with the explosion at the coalface

pursuing him through the tunnels, like a stoat 

after a rabbit. He escaped, reached the freedom 

of the cage that hauled him up – that resurrected him? –

to the astonished whiteness of his wife and daughter’s faces.

And in his hand, that relic – a lump of coal 

from Cynheidre colliery. Terror lies in its chiaroscuro.

［中文译本］

第一章 遗物

杰森•W•戴维斯 作

许景城 译

遗物桌上放， 神圣沐辉煌，

胜于十字架。

山谷之下，地狱之沼，拔地而起。

夜晚灯下，栩栩如生。

黑色细纹，犹如煤矿竖井，

强光射出，召唤盲人

走出阴郁之屋。

遗物中涌动着千秋万代；

宇宙万物皆浓缩于此。

放于耳边，聆听原始海浪击岸之声，

倾听岩石哧哧声，

只见高温炽热，融化陆川，

火焰肆虐，吹散尘灰。

最黑处，阵阵隆隆声：

流星之声，越来越近。

* * *

此情此声，似曾相识：

煤矿爆炸声，火焰吞噬声，

隧道轰隆声，追着祖父，犹如白鼬

追赶野兔一般。祖父狂奔，来到矿井铁笼，自由之绳，

–重生之望？–

妻女焦急等待，面容苍白，见祖父出井，相拥而泣。

祖父手握遗物– 一枚辛黑德煤炭。

明暗间涌动着恐惧。

选自《能源》

以上发表于《外国文艺》《威尔士当代文学和艺术》专辑发布会)，2014