二十一首情诗之三
【美】艾德里安娜·里奇 陈子弘 译
再说我们不年轻了，不得不用数周完善几年来
对彼此的思念。只有这怪异的时间错觉
甚至告诉我我们已不年轻了。
我是否在二十岁时走在清晨的街上，
四肢洋溢着纯粹的快乐？
我是否从任一扇窗户俯瞰城市
聆听未来
一如我在这儿神经紧张听你的铃声？
你喃，你以同样的速度朝我走来。
你的眼睛永恒，那初夏
蓝眼庭菖蒲闪着的绿光，
春光冲刷过的青蓝色野独行菜。
二十岁时，是啊：我们觉得会永远活着。
四十五岁，我甚至想知道我们生命的极限。
我抚摸你，认识到我们不是明天出生的。
我们每个人好像都会帮助另一方活着，
我们每个人大约都必须帮助另一方死去。
(Twenty-One Love Poems， 1973-1974)
III
Since we're not young, weeks have to do time
for years of missing each other. Yet only this odd warp
in time tells me we're not young.
Did I ever walk the morning streets at twenty,
my limbs streaming with a purer joy?
did I lean from any window over the city
listening for the future
as I listen here with nerves tuned for your ring?
And you, you move toward me with the same tempo.
Your eyes are everlasting, the green spark
of the blue-eyed grass of early summer,
the green-blue wild cress washed by the spring.
At twenty, yes: we thought we’d live forever.
At forty-five, I want to know even our limits.
I touch you knowing we weren’t born tomorrow,
and somehow, each of us will help the other live,
and somewhere, each of us must help the other die.
