美丽生活 外一首（翻译）# LeisureTime - 读书听歌看电影
S*e
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透明的云变幻成一颗心的形状。
你站在透明的玻璃窗前。
风中的叹息仿佛你话语中的空洞。
你是院子里树上藏着的幽灵。
街道总是那么安静。
天气，以及明天，以及你的生活，
一半在这儿，剩下的，飘在天上。
而你只是袖手旁观。
美丽生活从不事先警告。
它一点点抹去空气里失望的味道
然后趁你还没离开
忽然现出身体，走过来，像个普通人，两手空空。
【幸存者】
我把别人的名字从我身体里挤出来。把一切从口袋里清空。
我脱掉鞋把他们留在路边。
在夜晚我把时钟向前拨去；
我翻开相册看着童年的我。
这一切毫无目的。这一切尽职尽责地花费着时间。
我叫出我自己的名字。然后说：再见。
词语一个接一个飘散在风中。
我爱我的妻子，然后让她离开。
我的父母从王座上站起
升入充斥着奶色云朵的宫殿。这时我该唱什么歌？
时光揭示了我的本来面目。我不停改变成原来的自己。
就这样我把我的生活从我的身体里不断挤出来，而生活就这样继续。
======================
The Good Life
By Mark Strand
You stand at the window.
There is a glass cloud in the shape of a heart.
There are the wind’s sighs that are like caves in your speech.
You are the ghost in the tree outside.
The street is quiet.
The weather, like tomorrow, like your life,
is partially here, partially up in the air.
There is nothing you can do.
The good life gives no warning.
It weathers the climates of despair
and appears, on foot, unrecognized, offering nothing,
and you are there.
-------------
The Remains
I empty myself of the names of others. I empty my pockets.
I empty my shoes and leave them beside the road.
At night I turn back the clocks;
I open the family album and look at myself as a boy.
What good does it do? The hours have done their job.
I say my own name. I say goodbye.
The words follow each other downwind.
I love my wife but send her away.
My parents rise out of their thrones
into the milky rooms of clouds. How can I sing?
Time tells me what I am. I change and I am the same.
I empty myself of my life and my life remains.
【注】两首诗的原作者是Mark Strand。说话有奇怪的口音。2014年已经去世。在“学
院派”诗人里，不算长寿。
你站在透明的玻璃窗前。
风中的叹息仿佛你话语中的空洞。
你是院子里树上藏着的幽灵。
街道总是那么安静。
天气，以及明天，以及你的生活，
一半在这儿，剩下的，飘在天上。
而你只是袖手旁观。
美丽生活从不事先警告。
它一点点抹去空气里失望的味道
然后趁你还没离开
忽然现出身体，走过来，像个普通人，两手空空。
【幸存者】
我把别人的名字从我身体里挤出来。把一切从口袋里清空。
我脱掉鞋把他们留在路边。
在夜晚我把时钟向前拨去；
我翻开相册看着童年的我。
这一切毫无目的。这一切尽职尽责地花费着时间。
我叫出我自己的名字。然后说：再见。
词语一个接一个飘散在风中。
我爱我的妻子，然后让她离开。
我的父母从王座上站起
升入充斥着奶色云朵的宫殿。这时我该唱什么歌？
时光揭示了我的本来面目。我不停改变成原来的自己。
就这样我把我的生活从我的身体里不断挤出来，而生活就这样继续。
======================
The Good Life
By Mark Strand
You stand at the window.
There is a glass cloud in the shape of a heart.
There are the wind’s sighs that are like caves in your speech.
You are the ghost in the tree outside.
The street is quiet.
The weather, like tomorrow, like your life,
is partially here, partially up in the air.
There is nothing you can do.
The good life gives no warning.
It weathers the climates of despair
and appears, on foot, unrecognized, offering nothing,
and you are there.
-------------
The Remains
I empty myself of the names of others. I empty my pockets.
I empty my shoes and leave them beside the road.
At night I turn back the clocks;
I open the family album and look at myself as a boy.
What good does it do? The hours have done their job.
I say my own name. I say goodbye.
The words follow each other downwind.
I love my wife but send her away.
My parents rise out of their thrones
into the milky rooms of clouds. How can I sing?
Time tells me what I am. I change and I am the same.
I empty myself of my life and my life remains.
【注】两首诗的原作者是Mark Strand。说话有奇怪的口音。2014年已经去世。在“学
院派”诗人里，不算长寿。
