Twelve o'clock.
十二點。
Along the reaches of the street
沿著街道的延伸處
Held in a lunar synthesis,
被月光般的綜合體包裹,
Whispering lunar incantations
低語著月之咒語
Dissolve the floors of memory
溶解了記憶的層層地板
And all its clear relations,
以及它所有清晰的關係,
Its divisions and precisions,
它的分隔與精確,
Every street lamp that I pass
我經過的每一盞街燈
Beats like a fatalistic drum,
像宿命論的鼓聲般敲擊,
And through the spaces of the dark
並透過黑暗的空間
Midnight shakes the memory
午夜撼動了記憶
As a madman shakes a dead geranium.
如同瘋子搖晃一株枯萎的天竺葵。
Half-past one,
一點半,
The street-lamp sputtered,
街燈閃爍著,
The street-lamp muttered,
街燈低聲嘟囔,
The street-lamp said, “Regard that womanWho hesitates toward you in the light of the doorWhich opens on her like a grin.You see the border of her dressIs torn and stained with sand,And you see the corner of her eyeTwists like a crooked pin.“
街燈說:「看看那個女人她在門口的光中猶豫地走向你那扇門像笑臉一樣為她打開。你看見她的裙邊撕裂且沾滿沙土,你看見她的眼角扭曲得像彎曲的針。」
The memory throws up high and dry
記憶拋出高而乾燥的
A crowd of twisted things;
一堆扭曲的事物;
A twisted branch upon the beach
海灘上一根扭曲的樹枝
Eaten smooth, and polished
被磨平,被打磨光滑
As if the world gave up
彷彿世界放棄了
The secret of its skeleton,
它的骨架的秘密,
Stiff and white.
僵硬而潔白。
A broken spring in a factory yard,
工廠院子裡一根斷掉的彈簧,
Rust that clings to the form that the past drew
銹蝕緊貼著過去所畫出的形狀
From the muscles once so strong.
從曾經強壯的肌肉中。
One thinks of all the hands
一個人想到了所有的手
That are raising dingy shades
正在拉起骯髒的窗簾
In a thousand furnished rooms.
在一千個裝潢好的房間裡。
Half-past two,
兩點半,
The street-lamp said,
街燈說,
“Remark the cat which flattens itself in the gutter,Slips out its tongueAnd devours a morsel of rancid butter.“
「注意那隻趴在排水溝裡的貓,伸出舌頭吞下一小塊腐臭的奶油。」
So the hand of the child, automatic,
因此孩子的手,自動地,
I could see nothing behind that child's eye.
我看不見那孩子眼後的任何東西。
I have seen eyes in the street
我在街上見過眼睛
Trying to peer through lighted shutters,
試圖透過明亮的百葉窗窺視,
And a crab one afternoon in a pool,
還有某個下午在水池裡的一隻螃蟹,
An old crab with barnacles on his back,
一隻背上長滿藤壺的老螃蟹,
Gripped the end of a stick which I held him.
抓住了我拿著的棍子末端。
Half-past three,
三點半,
The street-lamp said,
街燈說,
“Remark the yellow soles of feetOf those who walk along the hill-road.“
「注意那些走在山路的人們腳底黃色的鞋底。」
The lamp hummed:
燈低鳴著:
“Regard the moon,La lune ne garde aucune rancune,She winks a feeble eye,She smiles into corners.She smoothes the hair of the grass.The moon has lost her memory.A washed-out smallpox cracks her face,Her hand twists a paper rose,That smells of dust and eau de Cologne,She is aloneWith all the old nocturnal smellsThat cross and cross across her brain.“
「看著月亮,月亮不會懷恨,她眨著無力的眼睛,她對著角落微笑。她撫平草叢的毛髮。月亮失去了她的記憶。一張洗褪的小痘疤裂開她的臉,她的手扭轉著一朵紙玫瑰,聞起來像灰塵和古龍水,她獨自一人伴隨著所有古老的夜間氣味在她的腦海中交織又交織。」
The reminiscence comes
回憶湧現
Of sunless dry geraniums
關於沒有陽光的乾燥天竺葵
And dust in crevices,
以及縫隙中的灰塵,
Smells of chestnuts in the streets,
街上的栗子香氣,
And female smells in shuttered rooms,
以及百葉窗房間裡的女人氣息,
And cigarettes in corridors
走廊裡的香菸
And cocktail smells in bars.
以及酒吧裡的雞尾酒氣味。
The lamp said,
燈說,
“Four o'clock,Here is the number on the door.Memory!You have the key,The little lamp spreads a ring on the stair,Mount.The bed is open; the tooth-brush hangs on the wall,Put your shoes at the door, sleep, prepare for life.“
「四點鐘,這是門上的號碼。記憶!你有鑰匙,小燈在樓梯上撒下一個環,上去吧。床已經鋪好;牙刷掛在牆上,把鞋子放在門邊,睡覺,準備迎接生活。」