What can I hold you with?

What can I hold you with?

我用什么才能留住你?

Jorge Luis Borges

博尔赫斯

What can I hold you with?

我用什么才能留住你?

I offer you lean streets,desperate sunsets,the moon of the jagged suburbs.

我给你瘦落的街道,绝望的落日,荒郊的月亮,

I offer you the bitterness of a man who has looked long and long at the lonely moon.

我给你一个久久地望着孤月的人的悲哀。

I offer you my ancestors, my dead men,the ghosts that living men have honoured in marble:

我给你我已死去的祖辈,后人们用大理石祭奠的先魂,

my father's father killed in the frontier of Buenos Aires, two bullets through his lungs, earded and dead, wrapped by his soldiers in the hide of a cow.

我父亲的父亲阵亡于布宜诺斯艾利斯的边境,两颗子弹射穿了他的胸膛,死的时候蓄着胡子,尸体被士兵们用牛皮裹起。

my mother's grandfather-just twentyfour-heading a charge of three hundred men in Peru, now ghosts on vanished horses.

我母亲的祖父,那年才二十四岁,在秘鲁率领三百人冲锋,如今都成了消失的马背上的亡魂。

I offer you whatever insight my books may hold. whatever manliness or humour my life.

我给你我的书中所能蕴含的一切悟力,以及我生活中所能有的男子气概和幽默。

I offer you the loyalty of a man who has never been loyal.

我给你一个从未有过信仰的人的忠诚。

I offer you that kernel of myself that I have saved somehow -the central heart that deals not in words, traffics not with dream and is untouched by time, by joy, by adversities.

我给你我设法保全的我自己的核心 — 不营字造句,不和梦交易,不被时间、欢乐和逆境触动的核心。

I offer you the memory of a yellow rose seen at sunset, years before you were born.

我给你早在你出生前多年的一个傍晚看到的一朵黄玫瑰的记忆。

I offer you explanations of yourself,theories about yourself, authentic and surprising news of yourself.

我给你关于你生命的诠释,关于你自己的理论,你的真实而惊人的存在。

I can give you my loneliness,my darkness,the hunger of my heart.

我给你我的寂寞,我的黑暗,我心的饥渴。

I am trying to bribe you with uncertainty, with danger, with defeat.

我试图用困惑、危险、失败来打动你。

(摘自《另一个,同一个》,博尔赫斯著,王永年译,浙江文艺出版社,2008年2月)

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