主题:Andrew Marr:我们英国人——英国诗歌文学简史 -- 万年看客
在我们离开现代主义者们之前,还有另一位与麦克迪尔米德截然不同的诗人不得不提。戴维.赫伯特.劳伦斯也是工人阶级出身,来自一户诺丁汉郡矿工家庭。如今提起他的名字,读者们首先会想到他的小说,不过他也是一名优秀的诗人以及比较一般的画家。身为小说家与画家的劳伦斯很难算是现代主义者。正当詹姆斯.乔伊斯忙着重塑语言、弗吉尼亚.伍尔芙忙着摸索意识流写作技术时,D.H.劳伦斯的小说却坚守着传统套路,从形式上来看并不比托马斯.哈代当年的作品更激进。他的画作也是传统的表现型作品,尽管技法有些笨拙。之所以他的作品能与现代二字沾边是因为他的创作题材:他的小说直言不讳地描写了性行为,他的画作不加掩饰地描绘了性感裸体。弗洛伊德及其追随者们揭示的全新性与道德世界对于艾略特、庞德以及麦克迪尔米德来说并不算特别要紧——这三位的侧重点都在于政治——可是劳伦斯则不然。
劳伦斯也觉得战后文化腐朽败坏,但是他并没有向外界寻找宗教或者政治答案,而是将目光转向了内心,寻求纯正的情感与性欲,以期这两者能够解放他自己。一定程度上说,他的诗歌与他的小说绘画一脉相承,不过感情要比小说更强烈,内容则不如绘画那样露骨。就算是现代主义诗人也不用在一切方面都奉行现代主义。麦克迪尔米德的《醉汉看蓟草》不仅韵脚工整,而且四行一节,十分传统;这首诗的现代主义特质体现在思想与措辞方面。劳伦斯虽然惯于创作无韵诗,但是他的行文同样很常规;反常规的地方在于他的选材。与一般的世俗肉感相比,他的诗歌腔调并没有那么性感,更没有那么色情。劳伦斯尤其与动植物的世界感同身受,他在这方面的创作方式也为英语诗歌带来了新气象。他的最著名作品之一是《巴伐利亚龙胆》(Bavarian Gentians)。没有这首诗开路,很难想象日后会出现泰德.休斯与西尔维娅.普拉斯那样的诗人。早先世代的英国人或许会觉得劳伦斯在这里宣扬的感觉实在太丢人,必须藏着掖着:
Not every man has gentians in his house
in Soft September, at slow, Sad Michaelmas.
并非每人家中都有龙胆
在柔软的九月,在缓慢而又悲哀的圣米迦勒节。
Bavarian gentians, big and dark, only dark
darkening the daytime torchlike with the smoking blueness of Pluto's gloom,
ribbed and torchlike, with their blaze of darkness spread blue
down flattening into points, flattened under the sweep of white day
torch-flower of the blue-smoking darkness, Pluto's dark-blue daze,
black lamps from the halls of Dis, burning dark blue,
giving off darkness, blue darkness, as Demeter's pale lamps give off light,
lead me then, lead me the way.
巴伐利亚的龙胆,硕大而黑暗,唯有黑暗
如同火炬一般染黑了白昼,凭借冒烟幽蓝,源自普路托的忧郁
缀以棱线,火炬一般,黑暗中的火焰蓝幽幽地延伸
被压扁成许多点,被白色日间的扫荡压扁,
火炬一样的花朵,冒着蓝烟的黑暗,普路托的深蓝色的眩晕,
狄斯大厅里的黑灯,燃起深蓝,
黑暗流泻,深蓝色的黑暗,就像得墨忒耳的苍白灯火发光,
指引我吧,给我引路。
Reach me a gentian, give me a torch
let me guide myself with the blue, forked torch of this flower
down the darker and darker stairs, where blue is darkened on blueness.
even where Persephone goes, just now, from the frosted September
to the sightless realm where darkness was awake upon the dark
and Persephone herself is but a voice
or a darkness invisible enfolded in the deeper dark
of the arms Plutonic, and pierced with the passion of dense gloom,
among the splendor of torches of darkness, shedding darkness on the lost bride and groom.
递给我一支龙胆,递给我一支火炬,
让我用这支花的叉状蓝色火炬引导自己
走下更暗更暗的台阶,蓝色越发深沉。
甚至到珀尔塞福涅前去的地方去,就在此刻,从降霜的九月
前往全无视觉的王国,那里的黑暗在黑暗中苏醒过来,
就连珀耳塞福涅自己也只是一个声音,
或是看不见的黑暗,被包容在冥王怀抱里
更深的黑暗中,并被浓密幽暗的激情射穿,
周遭是黑暗火炬的灿烂光华,
撒下黑暗遮蔽了失落的新娘和她的新郎。【参考了吴笛的译文】
这首诗的形式很古典,题材则是蓝色的花朵。但是诗文的笔调却极其狂暴,主题则是强奸。劳伦斯的另一首名诗《蛇》(Snake)当中的性意象要明确得多。此前的英国人或许像他一样想过,但是肯定没有像他一样写过。从字面上看,这首诗平铺直叙地描写了诗人与一条口渴的蛇之间的碰面,但是劳伦斯却挑战读者们全身心投入这首诗当中,从而承认我们所有人都知道但却很少讨论的事实:
A snake came to my water-trough
On a hot, hot day, and I in pyjamas for the heat,
To drink there.
一条蛇来到我的水槽
在一个炎炎夏日,我着一身睡衣,
前来饮水
In the deep, strange-scented shade of the great dark carob tree
I came down the steps with my pitcher
And must wait, must stand and wait, for there he was at the trough
before me.
茂密角豆树的浓荫散发着异香,在树荫遮蔽下
我提着水罐走下台阶
我必须等待,必须等待,因为他来到水槽边
比我更早。
He reached down from a fissure in the earth-wall in the gloom
And trailed his yellow-brown slackness soft-bellied down, over
the edge of the stone trough
And rested his throat upon the stone bottom,
And where the water had dripped from the tap, in a small clearness,
He sipped with his straight mouth,
Softly drank through his straight gums, into his slack long body,
Silently.
他从幽暗土墙的缝隙中俯下身子
拖着他那松弛的黄褐色软腹缓缓爬下,越过
石槽的边缘
他将喉咙置于石头底部
水龙头的水一滴滴地清脆坠下
他轻轻啜饮,用垂直的嘴
水经由他整齐的牙床,流入松弛的长长身躯,此时他
默不作声
Someone was before me at my water-trough,
And I, like a second-comer, waiting.
某人先于我来到水槽边
而我,仿佛一个后来者,等待着。
He lifted his head from his drinking, as cattle do,
And looked at me vaguely, as drinking cattle do,
And flickered his two-forked tongue from his lips, and mused
a moment,
And stooped and drank a little more,
Being earth-brown, earth-golden from the burning bowels
of the earth
On the day of Sicilian July, with Etna smoking.
他从水槽抬起头来,就像一头牲口,
呆滞地盯着我,就像一头喝水的牲口,
他吐着信子,信子忽隐忽现,凝视我
片刻
然后俯下身子,继续饮水
他通身土褐和土金色,来自燃烧的
大地深处,
在西西里七月的这天,埃特纳火山依然冒着烟。
The voice of my education said to me
He must be killed,
For in Sicily the black, black snakes are innocent, the gold
are venomous.
我所接受的教育嘱咐我
我必须要将他杀死
因为在西西里黑色的蛇无害,而金色的蛇
有毒。
And voices in me said, If you were a man
You would take a stick and break him now, and finish him off.
我脑中的众多声音对我说,如果你是一个男子汉
就该拿起棍棒打断他,杀死他。
But must I confess how I liked him,
How glad I was he had come like a guest in quiet, to drink
at my water-trough
And depart peaceful, pacified, and thankless,
Into the burning bowels of this earth?
然而我必须承认,我十分喜欢他
我多么高兴,他曾像宾客一样安静地来到我的家门,来到
我的水槽边饮水
然后再悄然离去,不谢一语,
返回到燃烧的大地肚肠?
Was it cowardice, that I dared not kill him?
Was it perversity, that I longed to talk to him?
Was it humility, to feel so honoured?
I felt so honoured.
是不是出于懦弱,我不敢把他杀死?
是不是出于堕落,我盼望与他交谈?
是不是羞辱,我竟然感到光荣?
我感到如此光荣。
And yet those voices:
If you were not afraid, you would kill him!
然而,又传出了声音:
“假若你不害怕,你就得把他处死!”
And truly I was afraid, I was most afraid,
But even so, honoured still more
That he should seek my hospitality
From out the dark door of the secret earth.
我的确感到畏惧,异常畏惧
即便如此,我仍感到荣幸
因为他走出了神秘大地的幽暗之门
前来寻求我的好客之情。
He drank enough
And lifted his head, dreamily, as one who has drunken,
And flickered his tongue like a forked night on the air, so black,
Seeming to lick his lips,
And looked around like a god, unseeing, into the air,
And slowly turned his head,
And slowly, very slowly, as if thrice adream,
Proceeded to draw his slow length curving round
And climb again the broken bank of my wall-face.
他饮饱了水
抬起头,神情恍惚,像个醉酒之人
那忽隐忽现的信子如此之黑,像空中分叉的黑夜
他似乎在舔舐嘴唇
像神灵一样,视而不见地环顾四周
他缓缓转过头去
缓缓地,仿佛进入三重幽梦
开始拖曳长长的、绕成曲线的躯体,
又爬上了破裂的墙面。
And as he put his head into that dreadful hole,
And as he slowly drew up, snake-easing his shoulders,
and entered farther,
A sort of horror, a sort of protest against his withdrawing into
that horrid black hole,
Deliberately going into the blackness, and slowly drawing
himself after,
Overcame me now his back was turned.
他将头伸进那可怖的洞穴
以蛇的方式慢慢拉直身体,放松肩膀,
再继续进洞,
我突然心生恐惧,心生抗议,就在他撤回
可怖的无底黑洞时,
在他从容地驶入黑暗,缓慢地拖着
他的身躯
背对着我,而我则难以自禁。
I looked round, I put down my pitcher,
I picked up a clumsy log
And threw it at the water-trough with a clatter.
我环视四周,我放下水罐,
我捡起笨重的木头,
啪地一声砸向水槽。
I think it did not hit him,
But suddenly that part of him that was left behind convulsed
in an undignified haste,
Writhed like lightning, and was gone
Into the black hole, the earth-lipped fissure in the wall-front,
At which, in the intense still noon, I stared with fascination.
我想我并未击中他,
然而他洞外的身躯突然剧烈抽搐
惊惶而仓促
闪电般一扭,随即踪迹全无
消失在幽暗的无底黑洞里,隐没在墙面的缝隙中,
在炎热又静寂的正午,我望着黑洞几近痴迷。
And immediately I regretted it.
I thought how paltry, how vulgar, what a mean act!
I despised myself and the voices of my accursed human education.
我即刻便懊悔不已。
我的行为是如此卑鄙,如此粗俗,如此低劣!
我憎恨我自己,憎恨可恶的人类教育的声音。
And I thought of the albatross,
And I wished he would come back, my snake.
我回想起了信天翁的故事。
我希望他能够回来,我的蛇呀。
For he seemed to me again like a king,
Like a king in exile, uncrowned in the underworld,
Now due to be crowned again.
因为于我而言,他像是一个君主
一个被放逐的君主,幽暗世界的无冕之王
现在是给他重新加冕的时候了
And so, I missed my chance with one of the lords
Of life.
And I have something to expiate:
A pettiness.
就这样,我错失了与一位生命之主
交往的际遇。
而我必须赎罪:
罪名是偏狭。【吴笛、庞红蕊等译】
笔者在本章当中介绍的诗人除了休.麦克迪尔米德之外全都没有亲眼见过一战战场。但是战争本身以及战争对于西方文化的显著影响却改变了他们所有人。他们每个人都经受了绝望,应对绝望的方式则各不相同。T.S.艾略特基本上无视了战争并且狂热地——倒不是说他狂热的样子有多么可信——拥抱了英格兰特质与圣公会信仰。庞德、洛伊与劳伦兹则全都选择了背井离乡,各自前往了法西斯治下的意大利、新墨西哥州与曼哈顿,总之就是不在英国呆着。唯有麦克迪尔米德不仅留在了英国,还试图对一战进行政治回应。搞政治并不是现代主义的做法,但却是下一代诗人当中最流行的做法。我们接下来就去看看这些二十世纪三十年代的政治诗人。
现代主义者们一直都在招兵买马,也一直都在激励着英国诗坛——诺桑伯兰的诗人巴塞尔.邦廷直到六十年代还在创作相当可观的现代主义诗歌——但是对于两次大战间期的绝大多数英国诗人来说,他们的激励程度还是不太够。艾略特与庞德或许的确算得上此时英国诗坛的并立双峰,不仅受到知识界的追捧,而且名声还传播到了文学圈子以外的更广泛社会当中,但是在双峰脚下原本应当存在一批严肃读者的区域却几乎是一片空白。粗略来说有两样事物取代了现代主义诗歌。其一是社会主义政治抗议诗歌,由西班牙内战时期的诗人们集中体现;其次是主要由保守派诗人创作的观察诗歌,这批诗人将晦涩难懂的现代主义者们丢掉的读者群体分流了不少。
当时的人们惯于用一个大而化之的诨号来挖苦左派诗人,将他们一并称作“马克斯彭登戴”(MacSpaunday)——具体来说就是路易斯.马克尼斯、斯蒂芬.斯彭德、W.H.奥登以及塞西尔.戴-刘易斯这四个人的统称。无论是当时还是现在,奥登的名号都比其余三位高出了一层楼。如果说二十世纪中期还有几位英国诗人的作品过上几百年依然有人阅读,那么奥登肯定是其中之一。不过从另一方面来说,马克斯彭登戴也是一位辨识度极高的角色:此人下身穿着肥大的米色裤子,上身穿着粗花呢外套与开领衬衫,顶着一头乱发;他起初接受了公学教育,然后在剑桥深造,再然后就加入了英共;此外此人几乎一定是男同;他嗓音洪亮,举止自信,不过要是行事不够小心谨慎(尽管他通常总是很谨慎)很可能会为了支持共和派而牺牲在西班牙内战的战场上。
符合这一模式的第一位左派诗人是约翰.康福德。他生在剑桥,也在剑桥大学接受了高等教育。此人还是查尔斯.达尔文的玄外孙。他在本科没毕业时就加入了英共,并且无可救药地爱上了另一位年轻的共产主义学生玛戈.海涅曼。康福德长得一表人才,帅得令人窒息——当年的浪漫主义者们觉得法国大革命时期的共和主义令人心驰神往,同理,二三十年代时也有些人认为共产主义浪漫得不可救药。他赶赴西班牙,加入了信奉马克思主义但又反对斯大林的马克思主义工人党并且在战斗中牺牲。他最著名的诗作结构工整且充满美感,让人忍不住想象假如他能从战场归来的话原本可以创作出怎样的诗句。下面这首《致玛戈.海涅曼》(To Margot Heinemann)是他在西班牙战场上写给恋人的情书:
Heart of the heartless world,
Dear heart, the thought of you
Is the pain at my side,
The shadow that chills my view.
没有心的世界里的一颗心,
亲爱的心,只要将你想到
我就感到疼痛不止,
阴影将我的视野笼罩。
The wind rises in the evening,
Reminds that autumn's near.
I am afraid to lose you,
I am afraid of my fear.
夜间刮起的凉风,
让人想起抵近的秋意。
我害怕失去你,
我害怕自己的恐惧。
On the last mile to Huesca,
The last fence for our pride,
Think so kindly, dear, that I
Sense you at my side.
距离韦斯卡的最后一英里,
我的骄傲的最后一道屏障,
请和善地想到,亲爱的,
我感到你就在我心上。
And if bad luck should lay my strength
Into the shallow grave,
Remember all the good you can;
Don't forget my love.
若是厄运将我的气力
埋进浅坟,黄土掩盖,
请尽力记住我所有的好;
不要忘记我的爱。
仅从这首诗很难看出诗人诗歌马克思主义者,甚至都看不出他是个志愿兵。但是康福德也是一位犀利的战争诗人。下面这首《来自阿拉贡的信》(A Letter From Aragon)就是面向留在英国的左派人士的战斗动员:
This is a quiet sector of a quiet front.
这是寂静前线上的一块寂静阵地。
We buried Ruiz in a new pine coffin,
But the shroud was too small and his washed feet stuck out.
The stink of his corpse came through the clean pine boards
And some of the bearers wrapped handkerchiefs round their faces.
Death was not dignified.
We hacked a ragged grave in the unfriendly earth
And fired a ragged volley over the grave.
我们用一口新打的松木棺材埋葬了鲁兹,
但是裹尸布太小,他洗净的双脚露了出来。
他的尸臭透出了干净的松木板,
有几位抬棺人用手帕裹住了脸。
死亡并不体面。
我们在不友好的土地上挖了一个乱七八糟的坟坑,
又围着坟坑乱七八糟地鸣枪一轮。
You could tell from our listlessness, no one much missed him.
从我们的无精打采可以看出,谁也不太怀念他。
This is a quiet sector of a quiet front.
There is no poison gas and no H. E.
这是寂静前线上的一块寂静阵地。
这里没有毒气也没有高爆炸药。
But when they shelled the other end of the village
And the streets were choked with dust
Women came screaming out of the crumbling houses,
Clutched under one arm the naked rump of an infant.
I thought: how ugly fear is.
但是当他们炮击村庄的另一头
街道上尘土飞扬令人窒息
女人们尖叫着从摇摇欲坠的房屋里跑出来,
一条胳膊下面还夹着婴儿的光屁股。
我心想:恐惧多么丑陋。
This is a quiet sector of a quiet front.
Our nerves are steady; we all sleep soundly.
这是寂静前线上的一块寂静阵地。
我们的神经很稳健;我们都睡得很沉。
In the clean hospital bed, my eyes were so heavy
Sleep easily blotted out one ugly picture,
A wounded militiaman moaning on a stretcher,
Now out of danger, but still crying for water,
Strong against death, but unprepared for such pain.
在医院的洁净病床上,我的眼皮很沉
睡眠轻易地阻挡了一幅丑陋的画面,
一名受伤的民兵在担架上呻吟,
并非因为危险,而是痛叫着讨口水喝,
他很强壮,一时死不了,但是并未准备好经受此等痛苦。
This on a quiet front.
这是一条寂静的前线。
But when I shook hands to leave, an Anarchist worker
Said: 'Tell the workers of England
This was a war not of our own making
We did not seek it.
But if ever the Fascists again rule Barcelona
It will be as a heap of ruins with us workers beneath it.'
但是当我与他们握手准备离开时,一名无政府主义工人
对我说:“告诉英国的工人们
这场战争并非由我们招致
我们不想打这一仗。
但是假如法西斯分子还想再次统治巴塞罗那
这城市将会化作一片掩埋我们工人的废墟。”
对于今天的读者们来说,这首诗当中的英雄主义口吻听上去或许有点可笑,但这就是当年的时代精神。当年的左派一方面对于盛行于欧陆的法西斯主义抱有近乎歇斯底里的恐惧(而且事实也证明了这份恐惧的确很有道理),另一方面又对俄国共产主义革命抱有天真的热情,却并不知道或者并不想知道斯大林治下的俄国究竟发生了什么。下面这首《铁尔斯的满月》(Full Moon At Tierz)是康福德笔下马克思主义思想最明确的作品,充分表达了诗人的理念:人类历史如今已经走到了转折点:
The past, a glacier, gripped the mountain wall,
And time was inches, dark was all.
But here it scales the end of the range,
The dialectic's point of change,
Crashes in light and minutes to its fall.
过去如同冰川,紧攥着山岩峭壁,
时间寸步向前,黑暗无边无际。
但是在这里它称量着界限的终点,
辩证对立的转折点,
冲进光明,不出几分钟就要坠落下去。
Time present is a cataract whose force
Breaks down the banks even at its source
And history forming in our hands
Not plasticine but roaring sands,
Yet we must swing it to its final course.
当前的时间宛如飞瀑千丈
在源头就有冲垮河岸的力量
历史正在我们手中成型确立
不是橡皮泥,却是呼啸的沙粒,
我们却必须将其抛向最终的方向。
The intersecting lines that cross both ways,
Time future, has no image in space,
Crooked as the road that we must tread,
Straight as our bullets fly ahead.
We are the future. The last fight let us face.
交叉的线条穿过了两个方向,
时间与未来,在空间当中没有图像,
曲折得就像我们必须践行的道路,
笔直得就像我们的子弹飞向远处。
我们就是未来,让我们直面最后一仗。
维斯坦.休.奥登的诗才远胜康福德,日后他将会摒弃共产主义并且就像T.S.艾略特那样转向基督教。但是目前他还像康福德一样满心火热激情,并且凭借自身魅力吸引了许多其他人投奔了左派。有许多早期的奥登诗作都很适合放在这里,其中大部分——包括著名同性恋情诗《葬礼蓝调》——至今依然在英国文化当中脍炙人口。但是《西班牙》(Spain)这首诗当真值得在这里全文引用。在这首诗中,奥登也像康福德一样感到人类历史已经走到了紧要关头,改天换地的全球革命即将到来。这首诗集中体现了奥登赖以成名的特质:当代与古代的小心混合,迫切的韵律,还有大开大合的自信——这一点在本诗后半段尤其明显——事情就是这样,你就该这么做。后来奥登在1939年逃离英国前往美国,隔岸观火地观察了英国大战希特勒,而且逐渐了解到了斯大林统治下的暴行,因此也不喜欢这首诗了,甚至还试图修改原句。但是原诗相当于一份历史文献,向我们充分揭示了二十世纪三十年代英国一部分顶尖知识分子的想法:
Yesterday all the past. The language of size
Spreading to China along the trade-routes; the diffusion
Of the counting-frame and the cromlech;
Yesterday the shadow-reckoning in the sunny climates.
昨天是陈迹,是度量衡的语言
沿着通商的途径传到中国,是算盘
和平顶石墓的传播;
昨天是在晴朗天气计算日影。。
Yesterday the assessment of insurance by cards,
The divination of water; yesterday the invention
Of cartwheels and clocks, the taming of
Horses. Yesterday the bustling world of the navigators.
昨天是用纸牌估算吉凶,
是水卜法;昨天是发明
车轮和时钟,是驯服
马匹;昨天是航海家活跃的世界。
Yesterday the abolition of fairies and giants,
the fortress like a motionless eagle eyeing the valley,
the chapel built in the forest;
Yesterday the carving of angels and alarming gargoyles;
昨天是对仙灵和巨怪的破除,
是古堡像不动的鹰隼凝视着山谷,
是树林里建筑的教堂;
昨天是天使和吓人的滴水兽雕刻。
The trial of heretics among the columns of stone;
Yesterday the theological feuds in the taverns
And the miraculous cure at the fountain;
Yesterday the Sabbath of witches; but to-day the struggle
是石柱之间的异端审判;
昨天是在酒店里的神学争论
和泉水的奇异疗效;
昨天是女巫的欢宴。但今天是斗争。
Yesterday the installation of dynamos and turbines,
The construction of railways in the colonial desert;
Yesterday the classic lecture
On the origin of Mankind. But to-day the struggle.
昨天是装置发电机和涡轮机,
是在殖民地沙漠上铺设铁轨;
昨天是关于人类起源的
学院式讲课。但今天是斗争。
Yesterday the belief in the absolute value of Greek,
The fall of the curtain upon the death of a hero;
Yesterday the prayer to the sunset
And the adoration of madmen. but to-day the struggle.
昨天是深信希腊语的绝对价值,
是一位英雄之死的剧终闭幕;
昨天是向落日的祈祷
以及崇拜疯人。但今天是斗争。
As the poet whispers, startled among the pines,
Or where the loose waterfall sings compact, or upright
On the crag by the leaning tower:
"O my vision. O send me the luck of the sailor."
诗人低语时猛然一惊,他在松林里
或有奔放瀑布歌唱的地方,
或挺立在斜塔边的岩上
"噢,我的幻象。送给我以水手的好运!"
And the investigator peers through his instruments
At the inhuman provinces, the virile bacillus
Or enormous Jupiter finished:
"But the lives of my friends. I inquire. I inquire."
观测者在瞄着他的仪器,观望到
渺无人烟的区域,富有活力的杆菌
或者巨大的木星被了结了:
“但我朋友们的生命呢?我要问,我要问。”
And the poor in their fireless lodgings, dropping the sheets
Of the evening paper: "Our day is our loss. O show us
History the operator, the
Organiser. Time the refreshing river."
穷人在不生火的陋室里放下晚报说:
“我们过一天就是一天的损失。噢,让我们
看到历史是操作者,
是组织者,时间是使人苏生的河。”
And the nations combine each cry, invoking the life
That shapes the individual belly and orders
The private nocturnal terror:
"Did you not found the city state of the sponge,
列国集起了这些呼声,召唤
那塑造个人口腹、并安排
私自的夜之恐怖的生命:
“你岂不曾建立过海绵的城邦?”
"Raise the vast military empires of the shark
And the tiger, establish the robin's plucky canton?
Intervene. O descend as a dove or
A furious papa or a mild engineer, but descend."
“岂不曾组织过鲨鱼和猛虎的
庞大军事帝国,成立过知更雀的英勇小郡?
干涉吧,降临吧,作为鸽子,
或严父,或温和的工程师。但请降临。”
And the life, if it answers at all, replied from the heart
And the eyes and the lungs, from the shops and squares of the city
"O no, I am not the mover;
Not to-day; not to you. To you, I'm the
然而生命不予回答,或者它的回答
是发自心、眼与肺,发自城市的商店
和广场:“呵,不,我不是动力,
今天我不是,对你们不是;对于你们
"Yes-man, the bar-companion, the easily-duped;
I am whatever you do. I am your vow to be
Good, your humorous story.
I am your business voice. I am your marriage.
我是听差遣的,是酒馆的伙计和傻瓜,
我是你们的所做所为,你们的笑话,
你们要当好人的誓言;
我是你们处事的意见;我是你们的婚姻。
"What's your proposal? To build the just city? I will.
I agree. Or is it the suicide pact, the romantic
Death? Very well, I accept, for
I am your choice, your decision. Yes, I am Spain."
你们想干什么?建立正义之城?我愿意。
我同意。或者相约集体自杀,投向浪漫的
死亡?那也不错,我接受,因为
我是你们的选择和决定:我是西班牙。”
Many have heard it on remote peninsulas,
On sleepy plains, in the aberrant fishermen's islands
Or the corrupt heart of the city.
Have heard and migrated like gulls or the seeds of a flower.
许多人听到这声音在遥远的半岛,
在沉睡的平原,在偏僻的渔岛上,
在城市的腐败心脏,
随即像海鸥或花籽一样迁移来。
They clung like burrs to the long expresses that lurch
Through the unjust lands, through the night, through the alpine tunnel;
They floated over the oceans;
They walked the passes. All presented their lives.
他们紧把着长列的快车,悄悄驶过
不义的土地,驶过黑夜,驶过高山隧道;
他们漂过海洋;
他们步行过隘口:为了来奉献生命。
On that arid square, that fragment nipped off from hot
Africa, soldered so crudely to inventive Europe;
On that tableland scored by rivers,
Our thoughts have bodies; the menacing shapes of our fever
那干燥的方块土地,从炎热的非洲
切下,被粗糙地焊接到善于发明的欧洲:
在那片河流纵横的高原上,
我们的思想有了形体,我们的热病的骇人外形,
Are precise and alive. For the fears which made us respond
To the medicine ad, and the brochure of winter cruises
Have become invading battalions;
And our faces, the institute-face, the chain-store, the ruin
精确而又鲜活。因为让我们对于
药品广告与冬季邮轮宣传册做出反应的恐惧
已经变成了入侵的营团;
我们的面孔,体制的面孔,连锁店,以及废墟
Are projecting their greed as the firing squad and the bomb.
Madrid is the heart. Our moments of tenderness blossom
As the ambulance and the sandbag;
Our hours of friendship into a people's army.
正在将他们的贪婪投射成为火枪队与炸弹。
马德里就是心脏。我们的温柔时刻绽放
成为了救护车与沙袋;
我们的友谊钟点结成了人民军队。
To-morrow, perhaps the future. The research on fatigue
And the movements of packers; the gradual exploring of all the
Octaves of radiation;
To-morrow the enlarging of consciousness by diet and breathing.
明天也许就是未来:对疲劳的研究
包装机的运转;逐步探索
辐射的所有频段;
明天是通过控制饮食和呼吸来扩大意识。
To-morrow the rediscovery of romantic love,
the photographing of ravens; all the fun under
Liberty's masterful shadow;
To-morrow the hour of the pageant-master and the musician,
明天是重新发现浪漫的爱情;
是给乌鸦拍照;是在自由的巧妙荫庇下
享受各种乐趣;
明天是庆典主持人和乐师的好时光,
The beautiful roar of the chorus under the dome;
To-morrow the exchanging of tips on the breeding of terriers,
The eager election of chairmen
By the sudden forest of hands. But to-day the struggle.
穹顶之下的合唱团美丽地高歌,
明天将会交换梗犬育种的心得与诀窍,
将会认真地突然举手如林
选举主席。但今天是斗争。
To-morrow for the young the poets exploding like bombs,
The walks by the lake, the weeks of perfect communion;
To-morrow the bicycle races
Through the suburbs on summer evenings. But to-day the struggle.
明天为年青人准备,是诗人象炸弹般爆炸,
是湖边漫步,是情投意合的一周又一周;
明天是在夏夜
穿过市郊的自行车比赛:但今天是斗争。
To-day the deliberate increase in the chances of death,
The consious acceptance of guilt in the necessary murder;
To-day the expending of powers
On the flat ephemeral pamphlet and the boring meeting.
今天是存心增加死亡的机会;
是自觉地承担必要的谋杀罪;
今天是把精力耗费在
乏味而短命的小册子和腻人的会议上。
To-day the makeshift consolations: the shared cigarette,
The cards in the candlelit barn, and the scraping concert,
The masculine jokes; to-day the
Fumbled and unsatisfactory embrace before hurting.
今天是临时的慰藉,是共吸一支香烟;
在谷仓的烛光下打牌,乱弹的音乐会,
男人之间的玩笑;今天是
弄痛对方之前笨拙而不满意的拥抱。
The stars are dead. The animals will not look.
We are left alone with our day, and the time is short, and
History to the defeated
May say Alas but cannot help nor pardon.
星辰都已消失,野兽不再张望。
只剩下我们面对着我们的日子,而且时不待人,更何况
对于失败者,历史
可能会叹息,但却无法帮助或宽恕。【杜运燮、查良铮等译】
奥登设想的今天至少在英国从未到来,大多数英国人都应当感到谢天谢地。但是奥登的确具备非凡的诗才,触及了二十世纪与历史经验的各个方面,并且激昂所有这些方面紧密整合起来,合成为单一的论点,由此取得了非凡的成就。他不仅会创作天真的革命宣传诗歌,同时也是一位先知先觉的观察家。下面这首短诗《暴君的墓志铭》(Epitaph On A Tyrant)可谓字字入骨,即便在二十一世纪的今天依然不显过时,真是可悲得很:
Perfection, of a kind, was what he was after,
And the poetry he invented was easy to understand;
He knew human folly like the back of his hand,
And was greatly interested in armies and fleets;
When he laughed, respectable senators burst with laughter,
And when he cried the little children died in the streets.
追求一种尽善尽美,
所创之诗简单易明;
熟捻人类千般愚昧,
万分热衷军队舰艇;
笑则重臣朝堂爆笑,
哭则孩童街头丧命。【无心剑网友译】
自从奥登于1939年跑到美国之后,他在英国的名声就再也没有完全恢复过。但是来到曼哈顿之后,他确实为我们献上了一篇杰作,题材是希特勒战争开始之前英国乃至全世界的恐惧情绪。在水平发挥最高的时候,奥登的诗句就像咒语一般摇撼人心,似乎成为了整个时代的代言人。这位天资聪颖并且痴迷于地质学、古典文化、宗教与政治的约克郡男孩终究成长为了一名面目肃杀的权威,他的声音一旦入耳就休想忘却。以下节选的是《1939年9月1日》(September 1, 1939)的头三节。在笔者看来,这段诗文只能用完美二字来形容。
I sit in one of the dives
On Fifty-second Street
Uncertain and afraid
As the clever hopes expire
Of a low dishonest decade:
Waves of anger and fear
Circulate over the bright
And darkened lands of the earth,
Obsessing our private lives;
The unmentionable odour of death
Offends the September night.
我坐在第五十二大街的
一家下等酒吧里*1
犹豫不决,忧心忡忡
那些聪明的希望已经过期
在这卑下虚伪的十年末尾:
愤怒与恐惧的电波
在这地球上明亮
与变暗的土地上传送,*2
扰乱我们的私人生活;
死亡那不便言及的气味
侵犯着九月的夜晚。
*1【这里的“下等酒吧”很可能是纽约曼哈顿的迪兹俱乐部,这是奥登经常光临的一家同性恋酒吧,他在这里结识了他的美国男友切斯特.卡尔曼(Chester Kallman)。在本诗第六节还会提到一对同性恋情侣,波兰裔芭蕾舞演员瓦斯拉夫.尼任斯基与俄国芭蕾舞编导塞尔戈.佳吉列夫。】
*2【1939年9月1日是纳粹德国入侵波兰的日期。欧洲与美国之间存在六到八小时的时差,当诗人在白天接收到消息时,波兰已经入夜,故而有“明亮/与变暗的土地”一说。此外“变暗”也指代了代纳粹入侵。】
Accurate scholarship can
Unearth the whole offence
From Luther until now
That has driven a culture mad,
Find what occurred at Linz
What huge imago made
A psychopathic god:
I and the public know
What all schoolchildren learn,
Those to whom evil is done
Do evil in return.
精湛的学问能够
揭示出全部的伤害,
从路德直到如今,
把一种文化逼得疯狂,
看看发生在林茨的事,*
巨大的心像造就了
一个精神变态的神:
我和公众都知道
所有的学童在学习什么,
对他们施以邪恶
他们就报以邪恶。
*【林茨是少年时期的希特勒就读中学的城市。】
Exiled Thucydides knew
All that a speech can say
About Democracy,
And what dictators do,
The elderly rubbish they talk
To an apathetic grave;
Analysed all in his book,
The enlightenment driven away,
The habit-forming pain,
Mismanagement and grief:
We must suffer them all again.
流亡的修昔底德清楚
一次演讲所能道出的
关于民主的一切,*1
以及独裁者的所为,
面对一座毫无知觉的坟墓
他们讲述陈词滥调;
他在著作中分析的一切,
被撵走的启蒙运动,
习惯性疼痛,
混乱的管理以及忧伤,
我们必须再度忍受。【胡桑、刘文飞等译】*2
*1【修昔底德在《伯罗奔尼撒战争史》当中记录了伯里克利宣扬民主制度的演讲。】
*2【日后奥登将会否认本诗以及其他四首政治诗歌。他要求任何诗集在收录这五首诗时都要添加以下附注:“W.H.奥登先生认为这五首诗是垃圾,他为自己创作了这些垃圾而感到羞耻。”】
塞西尔.戴-刘易斯、路易斯.马克尼斯以及斯蒂芬.斯彭德的文坛形象多多少少都受到了奥登的遮蔽。但是这三个人的观察眼光都很敏锐,也都为二十世纪的英国留下了各自的记录。戴-刘易斯生在爱尔兰,在牛津上了大学。有人质问为什么第二次世界大战缺乏战争诗歌的描写,戴-刘易斯则代表他们这个小团体做出回应,指出原因在于左派的梦想已经破灭。请看《战争诗人在哪里?》(Where Are The War Poets ?):
They who in folly or mere greed
Enslaved religion, markets, laws,
Borrow our language now and bid
Us to speak up in freedom's cause.
他们由于愚蠢或者单纯的贪婪
奴役了宗教、市场与法律,
如今又借走了我们的语言,
要求我们高唱自由的旋律。
It is the logic of our times,
No subject for immortal verse -
That we who lived by honest dreams
Defend the bad against the worse
这是我们这个时代的逻辑,
并无题材配得上不朽诗行——
我们要想凭借诚实梦境活下去,
就只得帮助恶棍抵挡混世魔王。
但是在这四人当中笔者本人最喜欢的还是生在贝尔法斯特的路易斯.马克尼斯。此人从来都算不得宣传诗人,但是描绘周遭世界的笔法却可圈可点。下面节选的是他的代表作《风笛音乐》(Bagpipe music),诗文充满了欢闹的活力,韵律令人上瘾。由此可见,即便在二十世纪三十年代,社会评论也不必非得板着脸孔说教不可:
It’s no go the merrygoround, it’s no go the rickshaw,
All we want is a limousine and a ticket for the peepshow.
Their knickers are made of crêpe-de-chine, their shoes are made of python,
Their halls are lined with tiger rugs and their walls with heads of bison.
这可不是坐旋转木马,也不是骑跷跷板,
我们只想乘坐豪车,去观赏单间艳舞表演。
她们的鞋子是蟒蛇皮,她们的内裤是双绉绸,
虎纹挂毯装饰大厅,墙上挂得是野牛头。
John MacDonald found a corpse, put it under the sofa,
Waited till it came to life and hit it with a poker,
Sold its eyes for souvenirs, sold its blood for whisky,
Kept its bones for dumb-bells to use when he was fifty.
约翰.麦克唐纳发现一具死尸,塞在沙发底下,*
一直等到它活过来,再用烧火棍打趴下,
卖了它的眼珠当纪念,卖了它的血换威士忌,
留下它的骨头当哑铃,等到五十岁拿来练力气。
*【约翰.麦克唐纳是当时苏格兰著名的风笛演奏家,平时以推销威士忌为主业。】
It’s no go the Yogi-Man, it’s no go Blavatsky,
All we want is a bank balance and a bit of skirt in a taxi.
靠不住的印度秘术大师,靠不住的布拉瓦茨基,*
我们只希望银行里有点存款,拉着女朋友去打的。
*【即海伦.彼得罗夫娜.布拉瓦茨基,十九世纪神秘学家、预言家。】
Annie MacDougall went to milk, caught her foot in the heather,
Woke to hear a dance record playing of Old Vienna.
It’s no go your maidenheads, it’s no go your culture,
All we want is a Dunlop tyre and the devil mend the puncture.
安妮.麦克唐纳去挤牛奶,欧石楠绊住她的脚跟,
醒过来听见《老维也纳》舞曲的录音。
靠不住你的文化,靠不住你的处女膜,
我们只想要一个邓禄普轮胎,让魔鬼将破口弥合。
诗人在一片欢声笑语之下安插了大量尖锐的社会讽刺。这显然不是剑桥大学的理想主义左派们希望见到的文化。另一方面,期望更好生活的真正工人阶级的表现也令知识分子们大失所望。但是马克尼斯听上去却不怎么沮丧:
It’s no go the Herring Board, it’s no go the Bible,
All we want is a packet of fags when our hands are idle.
靠不住鲱鱼捕捞委员会,靠不住圣经篇章,
我们只想要一包香烟,当我们双手闲得发慌。
It’s no go the picture palace, it’s no go the stadium,
It’s no go the country cot with a pot of pink geraniums,
It’s no go the Government grants, it’s no go the elections,
Sit on your arse for fifty years and hang your hat on a pension.
靠不住体育馆,靠不住画廊,
靠不住摆着粉色天竺葵的乡间草房,
靠不住政府补贴,靠不住选举,
一腚坐上五十年好将退休金领取。
It’s no go my honey love, it’s no go my poppet;
Work your hands from day to day, the winds will blow the profit.
The glass is falling hour by hour, the glass will fall forever,
But if you break the bloody glass you won’t hold up the weather.
靠不住我的心肝爱人,靠不住我的玩偶,
一天又一天的操劳,利润都被大风刮走。
气压表时时刻刻都在降低,气压表将会永远跌落,
可是就算你砸烂该死的气压表也挡不住风雨大作。
大萧条过后的三十年代成为了享乐主义盛行的时期——英国南方的享乐风气更胜于北方——消费主义文化第一次在英国爆发开来,为英国人带来了巴特林度假营、相对廉价的汽车以及遍布各地的电影院。马克尼斯的长诗《秋日杂记》(Autumn Journal)篇幅漫长,结构松散,可读性极强,反映了二战前夕英国的景象。在以下这段典型节选当中,我们可以看到诗人与这样的生活难解难分:
And the passing of the Morning Post and of life's climacteric
And the growth of vulgarity, cars that pass the gate-lodge
And crowds undressing on the beach
And the hiking cockney lovers with thoughts directed
Neither to God nor Nation but each to each.
But the home is still a sanctum under the pelmets,
All quiet on the Family Front,
Farmyard noises across the fields at evening
While the trucks of the Southern Railway dawdle .... shunt
Into poppy sidings for the night - night which knows no passion
No assault of hands or tongue
For all is old as flint or chalk or pine-needles
And the rebels and the young
Have taken the train to town or the two-seater
Unravelling rails or road,
Losing the thread deliberately behind them--
Autumnal palinode.
And I am in the train too now and summer is going
South as I go north
Bound for the dead leaves falling, the burning bonfire,
The dying that brings forth
The harder life, revealing the trees' girders,
The frost that kills the germs of laissez-faire;
West Meon, Tisted, Farnham, Woking, Weybridge,
Then London's packed and stale and pregnant air.
My dog, a symbol of the abandoned order,
Lies on the carriage floor,
Her eyes inept and glamorous as a film star's,
Who wants to live, i.e. wants more
Presents, jewellery, furs, gadgets, solicitations
As if to live were not
Following the curve of a planet or controlled water
But a leap in the dark, a tangent, a stray shot.
It is this we learn after so many failures,
The building of castles in sand, of queens in snow,
That we cannot make any corner in life or in life' s beauty,
That no river is a river which does not flow.
Surbiton, and a woman gets in, painted
With dyed hair but a ladder in her stocking and eyes
Patient beneath the calculated lashes,
Inured for ever to surprise;
《早间邮报》与人生转折点的逝去
粗俗的增长,经过大门岗亭的汽车
在海滩上脱衣的人群
远足的伦敦东区恋人们,他们的思绪
既非指向上帝,亦非国家,而是指向彼此。
但是家依然是窗帘盒之下的圣所,
家庭前线一片寂静,
农场的喧嚣在夜晚穿过田野
南线铁路的车皮慢悠悠地行驶……转轨到了
虞美人从中的支线上过夜——这夜晚不知激情
没有手或舌头发起的袭击
因为一切都像燧石、白垩或者松针一样古老,
而叛逆者与年轻人们
乘坐火车或者双座汽车进了城
将铁路或公路展开,
故意在身后留下线头——
秋天的撤回诗。
我也在火车上,随着我往北去
夏天正在南行
我要前往枯叶飘落、篝火燃烧、
旨在诞生的死亡
更艰难的生活揭露了树木的梁柱
杀死了放任主义细菌的霜冻
西梅昂,提斯特德,法汉姆,沃金,韦布里奇
拥挤、陈腐、怀孕的伦敦空气。
我的狗,被抛弃的秩序的象征
躺在车厢地板上,
她的眼睛笨拙而又迷人恰似电影明星,
想要生活,想要更多
礼物、珠宝、皮草、玩意、教唆
就好像活着并不必
遵循行星或者受控流水的曲线
而是一步跃入黑暗,一条切线,一发流弹。
这么多次失败之后我们学到了这一点,
在沙地上搭建城堡,用雪堆砌女王雕像,
在生活当中或者生活的美好当中无法投机取巧,
不流淌的河流就算不上河流。
瑟比顿站,一个女人走进车厢,
满头染发,但是丝袜破损成梯子状,眼睛
耐心地隐藏在精心计算的睫毛下,
始终做好令人吃惊的准备;
但是在离开马克尼斯之前假如不介绍一下他笔下最优秀的短诗,那将是极其不负责任的行为。《雪》(Snow)展现了诗人能怎样在最平凡琐碎的时刻当中发现新颖且有用的思想。如果三十年代还有一首诗能给人带来慰藉,那么肯定就是下面这首:
The room was suddenly rich and the great bay-window was
Spawning snow and pink roses against it
Soundlessly collateral and incompatible:
World is suddener than we fancy it.
房间突然丰饶了起来,硕大的凸窗
引起了落雪,倚着它的粉色玫瑰
无声地既配合又不相容:
世界比我们的幻想更加突然。
World is crazier and more of it than we think,
Incorrigibly plural. I peel and portion
A tangerine and spit the pips and feel
The drunkenness of things being various.
这世界的疯狂比我们的设想更深且更多,
根深蒂固的复数。我将一个橘子
剥皮分瓣,吐出橘核,感受到了
事物多样性的熏熏醉意。
And the fire flames with a bubbling sound for world
Is more spiteful and gay than one supposes—
On the tongue on the eyes on the ears in the palms of one's hands—
There is more than glass between the snow and the huge roses.
炉火发出泡泡一般的声响
这世界比我们的假设更美好也更恶意——
在舌尖在眼里在耳中在某人的手掌——
雪与硕大玫瑰丛之间不止隔着一层玻璃。
到现在为止我们遇到的三十年代政治诗人都是左派。实际上这一时期的绝大多数政治诗人也的确是左派,但是反例并非没有。比方说最早提出“马克斯彭登戴”这个诨号的人就是一位激进右派罗伊.坎贝尔。他也志愿参加了西班牙内战,不过加入了法西斯一方对抗社会主义者。坎贝尔生于南非,是一位酒量过人的骑手兼钓鱼迷。起初他一头栽进了牛津与伦敦的痛饮高歌的波希米亚圈子,但是后来却完全站到了当时流行的弗洛伊德主义与马克思主义的对立面上。他的妻子与弗吉尼亚.伍尔芙的女友维塔.萨克维尔-韦斯特展开了一场女同恋爱,致使他与布鲁姆斯伯里团体最终闹翻,并且将后者当成了凶恶嘲讽的对象。接下来坎贝尔搬到了西班牙,目睹了共产主义者大肆杀害神父与修女的惨状,致使他决定支持弗朗哥的法西斯独裁政权,尽管在二战开始时他还是背弃了纳粹并且加入了英军。
坎贝尔的极端政治立场与极端讽刺文笔在相当程度上损害了他的身后名誉。休.麦克迪尔米德就曾经写了一首长诗专门攻击他。但是在他最得意时,坎贝尔也曾被人拿来与T.S.艾略特相提并论,后来他还成为了狄兰.托马斯的密友与同事。下面这首《我们就像大千世界》(We are Like Worlds)一方面采用了历史正在前进的左派感受,另一方面又采用了D.H.劳伦斯的自我主义与意象。
We bear to future times the secret news
That first was whispered to the new-made earth:
We are like worlds with nations in our thews,
Shaped for delight, and primed for endless birth.
We never kiss but vaster shapes possess
Our bodies: towering up into the skies,
We wear the night and thunder for our dress,
While, vaster than imagination, rise
Two giant forms, like cobras flexed to sting,
Bending their spines in one tremendous ring
With all the starlight burning through their eyes,
Fire in their loins, and on their lips the hiss
Of breath indrawn above some steep abyss.
When, like the sun, our heavenly desire
Has turned this flesh into a cloud of fire
Through which our nerves their strenuous lightning fork
Eternity has blossomed in an hour
And as we gaze upon that wondrous flower
We think the world a beetle on its stalk.
我们为未来时代带来了秘密的消息,
这第一条要低声耳语传递给新造的大地:
我们就像众多世界,列国是我们的筋肉气力,
为了欢乐而塑造,为得是无尽的孕育。
我们从不亲吻,但是更宏大的形状
占据了我们的身体:一直通到天上,
我们将夜幕与雷霆当做蔽体衣裳,
此外另有两大巨物,规模无法想象,
恰似一对眼镜蛇准备亮出毒牙刺扎,
脊柱弯曲呈巨环形,姿态蓄势待发,
它们的眼里燃烧着无尽的星光闪耀,
烈火缠腰,双唇间传出喘息嘶叫
这声响将无底深渊笼罩
那时就像太阳,我们天堂一般的欲望
将这具肉体转化成了火云万丈
在其中他们那强健的闪电就是我们的神经
永恒在一个钟点之内绽放
当我们将这神奇的花朵凝望
我们觉得这世界只是甲虫攀爬花茎。
坎贝尔也创作过很有分量的宗教诗歌,但是他的专长还是在于剃刀一般锋利的讽刺。下面这首四行诗讽刺的是某些南非小说家:
You praise the firm restraint with which they write -
I'm with you there, of course:
They use the snaffle and the curb all right,
But where's the bloody horse?
你赞扬他们写作严格讲规矩——
你这话我当然认可:
他们又拽嚼子又拉缰绳,动作都对,
可是他们的马死哪去了?
在知识分子圈子以外,在极端左派与极端右派的政治圈子以外,两次大战间期的英国诗坛还出产了一批有趣的诗人,他们整体上偏保守,作品大都走得是幽默路线。这些人并不像奥登他们那样组成了小团体,而更偏向气质或者态度相似。
笔者首先想要介绍两位生在十九世纪七十年代的诗人,他们的创作生涯覆盖了二十世纪前半期,不过最出名的阶段还是在两次大战间期。两人都是天主教徒,都抱有反犹立场,笔下最出名的作品也都是儿童读物。萧伯纳曾经戏谑地将两人的名字合二为一——就像“马克斯彭登戴”那样——,将二人并称为“切斯特贝洛克”。西莱尔.贝洛克有一半法国血统,面目强悍,性情好斗,千百万小读者们都看过他的《警戒故事》(Cautionary Tales)。一战爆发之前他担任了五年的自由党议员,狂热的罗马天主教信仰决定了他的政治与社会理念。他相信宗教在欧洲的衰落意味着伊斯兰势力将要趁虚而入。他的诗歌极少显露出政治怒火或者过于严肃,但是他针对英国政治生活的讽刺却往往令人忍俊不禁。当时英国议会已经失去了大部分旧日权威,在战争间期成长起来的一代英国人看来,议会充满了贪污腐败的老不死。以下节选的是贝洛克的《朗迪勋爵》(Lord Lundy)的后半截。在笔者看来,既然德莱顿的讽刺诗被人们视为杰作,那么贝洛克的讽刺诗无论如何也不该被当成游戏笔墨:
It happened to Lord Lundy then,
As happens to so many men:
Towards the age of twenty-six,
They shoved him into politics;
In which profession he commanded
The Income that his rank demanded
In turn as Secretary for
India, the Colonies, and War.
But very soon his friends began
To doubt is he were quite the man:
Thus if a member rose to say
(As members do from day to day),
"Arising out of that reply . . .!"
Lord Lundy would begin to cry.
A Hint at harmless little jobs
Would shake him with convulsive sobs.
While as for Revelations, these
Would simply bring him to his knees,
And leave him whimpering like a child.
It drove his colleagues raving wild!
They let him sink from Post to Post,
From fifteen hundred at the most
To eight, and barely six--and then
To be Curator of Big Ben!. . .
And finally there came a Threat
To oust him from the Cabinet!
朗迪勋爵的这番经历,
许多人也有类似遭遇:
在他三十六岁这年
他们逼他步入政坛;
在职位上他能拿到
优厚工资与级别配套,
他的工作是做秘书,
负责战争、殖民地与印度。
但是他的朋友很快产生疑虑
不知道他究竟有没有能力:
比方说假如有人起立发言
(议员们总要开口在议会面前),
“我要回应刚才的建议……”
朗迪勋爵一听就痛哭流涕。
随便给他安排一点轻松工作
都会吓得他浑身抽搐哆嗦。
要是到了政务公开之际,
他当场就两腿一软膝盖触地,
像个小孩子那样哭哭啼啼,
逼得同事们全都又气又急。
他们将他的岗位一降再降,
从最高时的年薪一万五千英镑
降到八千,然后是六千不到,
最后干脆打发他去将大本钟照料!
最终传来一条厉声谴责
说这回要将他轰出内阁!
The Duke -- his aged grand-sire -- bore
The shame till he could bear no more.
He rallied his declining powers,
Summoned the youth to Brackley Towers,
And bitterly addressed him thus--
"Sir! you have disappointed us!
We had intended you to be
The next Prime Minister but three:
The stocks were sold; the Press was squared:
The Middle Class was quite prepared.
But as it is! . . . My language fails!
Go out and govern New South Wales!"
公爵——他的老祖父——也将耻辱蒙受,
直到有一天这位老大人终于受够。
他鼓舞起了仅剩的一点力量,
将年轻人叫到布拉克利的塔楼上。
满口苦涩地对他好一番训话:
“先生!你的表现太给我们拉胯!
我们原本对你抱有深切期望,
再过三届政府就扶持你当首相!
我们卖了股票,摆平了报社,
做通了中产阶级的说服工作,
可是你这点出息……我说不出一个字!
滚出去,你只配管理新南威尔士!”
The Aged Patriot groaned and died:
And gracious! how Lord Lundy cried!
老大人一阵呻吟之后当场咽气,
老天啊!朗迪勋爵哭得昏天黑地!
但是贝洛克关于英国议会统治的最精彩讽刺诗写于1923年,当时改革派工党正在与毫无想象力的死硬派托利党以及早已名声扫地的自由党较劲。可悲的是,时至今日这段诗文看上去依然毫不过时。请看《咏大选》(On a General Election):
The accursed power which stands on privilege
(and goes with women, champagne and bridge)
Broke - and democracy resumed her reign
(which goes with bridge and women and champagne).
该死的权力依靠特权搭台
(搭配着女人、香槟与桥牌)
如今遭到打破——民主再次为王称尊
(搭配着桥牌、女人与香槟)。
合体组成“切斯特贝洛克”的另一位诗人是土生土长的伦敦人吉尔伯特.基思.切斯特顿。他也是斯莱德美术学院的学生。就像叶芝以及十九世纪末期几乎所有以艺术家自居的人们一样,他也曾涉足过神秘主义。他既能画得一手好画,又在几乎所有文学领域都留下了丰富的作品,尽管今天我们主要将他当成推理小说家,布朗神父探案系列的作者。诚然,切斯特顿的确是个反犹主义者。但是有一说一,他同样也从一开始就坚定反对纳粹德国及其种族理论。因为我们习惯了从左右之分出发来看待政治,今天我们经常忘记,二十世纪二三十年代的许多人都同时拒绝了法西斯主义与共产主义,试图找到第三条路。有一条道路曾经暂且流行过一阵,也就是天主教会主张的分配主义——简单来说,分配主义一方面相信私有财产不可侵犯,另一方面又主张相对较弱的政府力量,从而使得私有财产尽可能分散到全社会而不是集中在少数资本家手里。贝洛克与切斯特顿都曾是分配主义的积极倡导者。这条路能否走通暂且不论,至少为两人提供了置身于相互攻讦的政治阵营之外的余地。切斯特顿的诗歌就像他本人的身材那样庞大。他是个大胖子,平时总是身披黑斗篷,头戴宽檐帽,口叼雪茄烟,手持藏剑杖。他最出名的诗作赞美了英国历史与文化当中缺乏秩序与组织的特质。《起伏的英国路》(The Rolling English Road)这首诗完全有可能出自吉卜林之手,假如吉卜林的幽默感再强一点的话。但是这首诗绝非游戏笔墨,而是在一个独裁者横行的时代传达了一条令英国人感同身受的切实信息:
Before the Roman came to Rye or out to Severn strode,
The rolling English drunkard made the rolling English road.
A reeling road, a rolling road, that rambles round the shire,
And after him the parson ran, the sexton and the squire;
A merry road, a mazy road, and such as we did tread
The night we went to Birmingham by way of Beachy Head.
早在罗马人来到莱伊或者大步走向赛文之前,
步履起伏的英国醉汉就将起伏的英国道路修建。
九转八弯,升降错落,在乡间扭来扭去,
路上走得是教区牧师、乡绅与教堂杂役。
欢乐的道路,曲折的道路,我们曾经走过,
那天晚上我们从白金汉出发赶赴比奇海德。
I knew no harm of Bonaparte and plenty of the Squire,
And for to fight the Frenchman I did not much desire;
But I did bash their baggonets because they came arrayed
To straighten out the crooked road an English drunkard made,
Where you and I went down the lane with ale-mugs in our hands,
The night we went to Glastonbury by way of Goodwin Sands.
我不知道波拿巴干过什么坏事,倒是认识不少乡绅,
我不想跟法国人打仗,这话实属发自真心;
但我当真与他们拼过刺刀,因为他们过来捣乱,
要将英国醉汉铺设的起伏道路抻成直线。
你我曾走过这条路,啤酒杯端在手里,
那天晚上我们途径古德温沙地前往格拉斯顿伯里。
His sins they were forgiven him; or why do flowers run
Behind him; and the hedges all strengthening in the sun?
The wild thing went from left to right and knew not which was which,
But the wild rose was above him when they found him in the ditch.
God pardon us, nor harden us; we did not see so clear
The night we went to Bannockburn by way of Brighton Pier.
他的罪孽都原谅了他;要不为何在他身后
有鲜花奔跑;树篱为何在阳光下长势繁厚?
野东西从左跑到右,分不清左右两侧,
野玫瑰却笼罩着他,当人们发现他醉卧沟壑。
上帝宽恕我们,不要磨炼我们;我们看得并不真,
那天晚上我们途经布莱顿码头前往班诺克伯恩。
My friends, we will not go again or ape an ancient rage,
Or stretch the folly of our youth to be the shame of age,
But walk with clearer eyes and ears this path that wandereth,
And see undrugged in evening light the decent inn of death;
For there is good news yet to hear and fine things to be seen,
Before we go to Paradise by way of Kensal Green.
我的朋友们,我们再不能如此行事或者模仿古老愤怒,
也不能延展青年的愚蠢,在老年走上羞耻之路,
赶路时要耳聪目明,沿着道路蜿蜒向前,趁着夜光
清醒看到唯有死亡经营的体面酒馆还在开张;
我们还有好消息可听,还有美景会浮现眼前,
在我们途经肯萨尔格林前往天堂之前。
切斯特顿还创作过另外一首政治诗歌《秘密的英格兰人民》(The Secret People of England)。甚至直到今天,英格兰民族主义者们以及其他觉得自己遭到政治体系排斥的人们依然经常引用这首诗当中的诗句。诗文当中刻意掩饰着民粹主义威胁,但是就像切斯特顿的其他诗歌一样,这首诗的开端也很温和:
Smile at us, pay us, pass us; but do not quite forget;
For we are the people of England, that never have spoken yet.
There is many a fat farmer that drinks less cheerfully,
There is many a free French peasant who is richer and sadder than we.
There are no folk in the whole world so helpless or so wise.
There is hunger in our bellies, there is laughter in our eyes;
You laugh at us and love us, both mugs and eyes are wet:
Only you do not know us. For we have not spoken yet.
向我们微笑,给我们工钱,与我们擦肩;但是可不要忘记;
我们是英格兰的人民,从未开口表明心意。
那么多胖农夫喝酒时不如以前开心,
那么多自由法国农民比我们更富更伤心。
全世界再没人像我们这般明智或者无助,
笑意充盈我们的眼睛,饥饿充满我们的肚腹;
你嘲笑我们热爱我们,杯中酒未尽,两眼泪未去:
可是你并不认识我们,因为我们尚未开口表明心意。
The fine French kings came over in a flutter of flags and dames.
We liked their smiles and battles, but we never could say their names.
The blood ran red to Bosworth and the high French lords went down;
There was naught but a naked people under a naked crown.
And the eyes of the King's Servants turned terribly every way,
And the gold of the King's Servants rose higher every day.
They burnt the homes of the shaven men, that had been quaint and kind,
Till there was no bed in a monk's house, nor food that man could find.*3
The inns of God where no man paid, that were the wall of the weak.
The King's Servants ate them all. And still we did not speak.
高雅的法国国王来到这里,随行旗帜招展,后宫佳丽娉婷,
我们喜欢他们的微笑与战斗,但却从来念不出他们的姓名。*1
博斯沃思血流遍地,高贵的法国贵胄全都被砍翻,*2
只剩下我们这些赤裸的人民簇拥一顶赤裸的王冠。
国王的仆役们四下打量眼光毒辣好似尖刀,
国王的仆役们收拢黄金日复一日越堆越高。
削发之人的宁静安详住所被他们烧成白地,
直到僧侣们再无床铺栖身,饥饿时无处可去。*3
上帝的酒馆无人光顾,都说那是专属弱者的墙壁,
都被国王的仆役们吞吃殆尽,但我们依然嘴巴紧闭。
*1【即金雀花王朝统治者以及更早时期的诺曼统治者。】
*2【博斯沃思即玫瑰战争最后决战的发生地,这一战标志着金雀花王朝的终结与都铎王朝的建立。】
*3【亨利八世时期的宗教改革解散了修道院并且没收其财产。】
And the face of the King's Servants grew greater than the King:
He tricked them, and they trapped him, and stood round him in a ring.
The new grave lords closed round him, that had eaten the abbey's fruits,
And the men of the new religion, with their bibles in their boots,
We saw their shoulders moving, to menace or discuss,
And some were pure and some were vile; but none took heed of us.
We saw the King as they killed him, and his face was proud and pale;
And a few men talked of freedom, while England talked of ale.
国王的仆役最终变得比国王更有脸面:
他骗他们,他们抓他,围成一圈将他困在里面。
新兴的大人们面色阴郁,都曾将修道院的果实品尝,
新兴宗教的信徒们将圣经在靴子里收藏。*4
我们看到他们耸动肩膀,讨论正事或者威胁他人,
有些人纯洁,有些人败坏,但全都对我们置若罔闻。
我们眼看他们杀死国王,国王的面色苍白而骄傲;
寥寥几人谈论着自由,英格兰却谈论着啤酒饮料。
*4【“新兴宗教的信徒们”即以克伦威尔为代表的清教集团。克伦威尔为手下的新模范军士兵制作了仅有十六页的圣经摘录,士兵们惯于将其塞在靴筒里携带。】
A war that we understood not came over the world and woke
Americans, Frenchmen, Irish; but we knew not the things they spoke.
They talked about rights and nature and peace and the people's reign:
And the squires, our masters, bade us fight; and scorned us never again.
Weak if we be for ever, could none condemn us then;
Men called us serfs and drudges; men knew that we were men.
In foam and flame at Trafalgar, on Albuera plains,
We did and died like lions, to keep ourselves in chains,
We lay in living ruins; firing and fearing not
The strange fierce face of the Frenchmen who knew for what they fought,
And the man who seemed to be more than a man we strained against and broke;
And we broke our own rights with him. And still we never spoke.
一场我们不理解的战争席卷了宇内天下,
惊醒了美国人、法国人、爱尔兰人;但我们却听不懂他们说话。
他们主张人权、人性、和平与人民当家主事,
而乡绅们——我们的主人们——命令我们作战,还斥责我们不准想三想四。
我们或曾软弱,但是这次谁也不能谴责我们疲软乏力,
他们曾视我们为奴仆人渣,这次却见识了我们的骨气。
从阿尔布埃拉平原到火光映照浮沫的特拉法尔加海面,*5
我们宛如雄狮般决死拼杀,只为保住自己身上的锁链。
我们纵横肆虐,全然无惧地射出一发发子弹,
朝向法国人的狰狞面容,他们知道自己为何而战。
那位看似高于凡夫俗子之人终究在我们手下一败涂地,*6
我们的权利也伴随他一同破灭,而我们依然嘴巴紧闭。
*5【阿尔布埃拉平原与特拉法尔加均为拿破仑战争期间英法交战的战场。】
*6【“看似高于凡夫俗子之人”即拿破仑。】
Our patch of glory ended; we never heard guns again.
But the squire seemed struck in the saddle; he was foolish, as if in pain,
He leaned on a staggering lawyer, he clutched a cringing Jew,
He was stricken; it may be, after all, he was stricken at Waterloo.
Or perhaps the shades of the shaven men, whose spoil is in his house,
Come back in shining shapes at last to spoil his last carouse:
We only know the last sad squires rode slowly towards the sea,
And a new people takes the land: and still it is not we.
我们的片刻荣誉就此告终,我们再未听到枪炮鸣奏。*7
但是马鞍上的乡绅却似乎受到重击,这蠢货看上去十分难受,
他倚向脚步蹒跚的律师,他抓住畏缩的犹太奸商,
他越发痛苦;或许病根在于滑铁卢留下的积年暗伤。
又或许是削发僧侣的幽灵作祟,只因寺院里搜刮来的宝货
遍布他家,幽灵们的耀眼光辉败坏了他最后一次寻欢作乐。
我们只知道悲哀的乡绅信马由缰走向大海一命归天,
一群新人随即接管这片土地;但是他们与我们无关。
*7【本诗创作于一战之前。】
They have given us into the hand of new unhappy lords,*8
Lords without anger or honour, who dare not carry their swords.
They fight by shuffling papers; they have bright dead alien eyes;
They look at our labour and laughter as a tired man looks at flies.
And the load of their loveless pity is worse than the ancient wrongs,
Their doors are shut in the evening; and they know no songs.
乡绅将我们交代给了新一批主人,新主人整天郁郁寡欢,*8
既无荣誉亦无愤怒,甚至不敢将宝剑带在身边。
他们的战斗方式是整理文件,他们眼神明亮死寂不带人情,
他们审视我们的劳动与欢笑就像力竭之人打量飞舞的苍蝇。
他们那沉甸甸的无爱怜悯比起古代恶政更加混账,
他们的办公室晚上锁门,他们不懂如何放声歌唱。
*8【即一战前兴起的自由党官僚阶层。】
We hear men speaking for us of new laws strong and sweet,
Yet is there no man speaketh as we speak in the street.
It may be we shall rise the last as Frenchmen rose the first,
Our wrath come after Russia's wrath and our wrath be the worst.
It may be we are meant to mark with our riot and our rest
God's scorn for all men governing. It may be beer is best.
But we are the people of England; and we have not spoken yet.
Smile at us, pay us, pass us. But do not quite forget.
我们听说有人替我们发言,声称新法律强大而甜蜜,
但是当我们在街头开腔时却没人替我们发言提议。
法国人动手最早,我们动手大概会排在最后,
我们的愤怒跟随着俄国人的愤怒,我们的愤怒或许最难承受。
或许我们注定要用我们的暴乱与安歇来标记
上帝对于一切人间统治的蔑视。又或许还不如喝啤酒去。
但是我们是英格兰的人民,我们尚未开口表明心意。
向我们微笑,给我们工钱,与我们擦肩;但是可不要忘记。
所以说,亲爱的读者们,假如你们真想引用这首诗的某些段落——笔者必须承认本诗确实朗朗上口——千万别忘了切斯特顿在诗中提出的实际主张是在英国发动一场比起俄国更加血腥的革命,而俄国革命的死亡人数已经达到了几百万人。
还有一位比起贝洛克与切斯特顿都更加温和的诗人,他也是最后一位在战争间期开始发表诗作的非左派主要诗人。今天有许多诗人都不承认约翰.贝杰曼算得上诗人。在他们看来,此人只是一个迎合公众口味、卖弄传统感伤情绪的押韵家而已。这话说的不算完全公道,可也不算完全不公道。贝杰曼于1909年出生在伦敦北部一户荷兰裔家庭,他是路易斯.马克尼斯的同代人。就像贝洛克与切斯特顿一样,贝杰曼也是一位虔诚的基督徒,不过他信得是高派圣公会。他曾就读于牛津大学,但是成绩一塌糊涂。年轻时他结识了奥登与斯彭德,后来为了糊口担任过中学老师与记者等工作。正是因为他所具备的记者特质,他在二十世纪三十年代创作的诗歌才会直到今天依然值得一读。他是中产阶级势力作风与时髦风气的敏锐观察家,风格类似马克尼斯但更加轻松愉快。他的诗文当中充满了同时代的商品品牌与各种日常用品——如果你想了解二十世纪三十年代英国中产阶级的生活方式,那就不该低估贝杰曼的价值。另一方面,他描写破败凋零的本事也不在奥登之下。请看《利明顿的死亡》(Death In Leamington):
She died in the upstairs bedroom
By the light of the ev'ning star
That shone through the plate glass window
From over Leamington Spa
她在楼上的卧室死去
当时夜晚明星高悬
光亮穿透了玻璃窗
明星俯瞰利明顿温泉。
Beside her the lonely crochet
Lay patiently and unstirred,
But the fingers that would have work'd it
Were dead as the spoken word.
孤独的钩针摆在她身侧
耐心地一动不动,不见有异,
她的十指本应运作繁忙
如今却像她的言语那样沉寂。
And Nurse came in with the tea-things
Breast high 'mid the stands and chairs-
But Nurse was alone with her own little soul,
And the things were alone with theirs.
护士走进屋里,端着茶具
胸脯高挺,身边是一排排桌椅——
护士有她自己的小小灵魂,
万物也都各有魂灵一缕。
She bolted the big round window,
She let the blinds unroll,
She set a match to the mantle,
She covered the fire with coal.
她插上了圆窗的粗大插销,
她将窗帘全都拉上,
她在壁炉旁划亮一根火柴,
又添了些煤,好让炉火烧旺。
And "Tea!" she said in a tiny voice
"Wake up! It's nearly five"
Oh! Chintzy, chintzy cheeriness,
Half dead and half alive.
“茶来了!”她轻声说道,
“醒醒!已经快五点了。”
哦!多么俗气的快活,
一半已死,另一半还活着。
Do you know that the stucco is peeling?
Do you know that the heart will stop?
From those yellow Italianate arches
Do you hear the plaster drop?
你可知墙皮正在脱落?
你可知心脏终将停跳?
你可听见石膏正在逐渐剥离,
从黄色的意式拱门往下掉?
Nurse looked at the silent bedstead,
At the gray, decaying face,
As the calm of a Leamington ev'ning
Drifted into the place.
护士看着寂静的床头,
灰白的面孔正在朽坏,
利明顿夜晚的安宁
正在将这里悄然覆盖。
She moved the table of bottles
Away from the bed to the wall;
And tiptoeing gently over the stairs
Turned down the gas in the hall.
她将摆满药瓶的桌子
从床边推到靠近墙壁;
然后踮着脚走下台阶
关上了大厅里的煤气。
这首感伤的诗歌其实并不能反映贝特曼的创作特色,至少反映不了他在创作早期的特色。在他的所有早期诗歌当中,《一名中尉的情歌》(A Subaltern’s Love Song)流传得最久也最受欢迎。这首诗创作于一战开始后不久,完美呈现了理想当中的英格兰郊区生活:
Miss J. Hunter Dunn, Miss J. Hunter Dunn,
Furnish’d and burnish’d by Aldershot sun,
What strenuous singles we played after tea,
We in the tournament – you against me!
J.杭特尔.邓恩女士,J.杭特尔.邓恩女士,
多么神采飞扬,奥尔德肖特的艳阳将你整饬,
喝完茶之后我们玩了一局网球游戏,
我们都想取胜——你与我较量技艺!
Love-thirty, love-forty, oh! weakness of joy,
The speed of a swallow, the grace of a boy,
With carefullest carelessness, gaily you won,
I am weak from your loveliness, Joan Hunter Dunn.
零比三十,零比四十,啊!欢乐正是我的软弱之处,
你身轻如燕飞速穿梭,还具有男生的潇洒风度。
你用最周详的洒脱风格赢得了欢乐的胜利,
J.杭特尔.邓恩,你的可爱让我浑身乏力。
Miss Joan Hunter Dunn, Miss Joan Hunter Dunn,
How mad I am, sad I am, glad that you won,
The warm-handled racket is back in its press,
But my shock-headed victor, she loves me no less.
乔安.杭特尔.邓恩,乔安.杭特尔.邓恩,
你的胜利让我多么生气,多么难过,多么开心,
攥热了的球拍早已被送回球拍架上去,
但是满头波浪卷的赢家却丝毫不减对我的爱意。
Her father’s euonymus shines as we walk,
And swing past the summer-house, buried in talk,
And cool the verandah that welcomes us in
To the six-o’clock news and a lime-juice and gin.
我们漫步在她父亲的黄杨树下,灿灿泛光的叶片,
我们交谈热烈,不慎错过了避暑宅邸的门面,
阴凉的露台欢迎我们掉头进门,
备下了琴酒、柠檬汁与六点新闻。
The scent of the conifers, sound of the bath,
The view from my bedroom of moss-dappled path,
As I struggle with double-end evening tie,
For we dance at the Golf Club, my victor and I.
室内有松木的香气,浴室里水声潺潺,
覆盖青苔的小径在我的卧室窗外蜿蜒,
我七手八脚想要将晚宴领带在胸前扎住,
我的胜利者与我要共舞一曲在高尔夫俱乐部。
On the floor of her bedroom lie blazer and shorts,
And the cream-coloured walls are be-trophied with sports,
And westering, questioning settles the sun,
On your low-leaded window, Miss Joan Hunter Dunn.
运动衣与运动短裤在她的卧室乱扔在地,
各种赛事的奖杯布满了奶油色的墙壁,
西沉的太阳一边下落一边满脸问号,
乔安.杭特尔.邓恩,落日将你的低铅玻璃窗照耀。
The Hillman is waiting, the light’s in the hall,
The pictures of Egypt are bright on the wall,
My sweet, I am standing beside the oak stair
And there on the landing’s the light on your hair.
希尔曼正在等待,大厅里灯光明亮,*1
埃及的风景照片醒目地挂在墙上,
我的爱,我在橡木楼梯旁边将你牵挂,
你站在楼梯口,灯光照映着你的秀发。
*1【希尔曼为汽车品牌。】
By roads “not adopted”, by woodlanded ways,
She drove to the club in the late summer haze,
Into nine-o’clock Camberley, heavy with bells
And mushroomy, pine-woody, evergreen smells.
她驶上了“少有人走”的道路,她穿过了林地,
在夏末微风当中她朝着俱乐部疾驰而去。
九点钟我们经过坎伯雷,镇上钟声响亮,
蘑菇、松树与常青树的气息在车厢里飘荡。
Miss Joan Hunter Dunn, Miss Joan Hunter Dunn,
I can hear from the car park the dance has begun,
Oh! Surrey twilight! importunate band!
Oh! strongly adorable tennis-girl’s hand!
乔安.杭特尔.邓恩,乔安.杭特尔.邓恩,
在停车场里我就听见了舞会开始的声音。
啊!萨里的暮光!乐队只会添乱!
啊!网球少女的纤手多么强健!
Around us are Rovers and Austins afar,
Above us the intimate roof of the car,
And here on my right is the girl of my choice,
With the tilt of her nose and the chime of her voice.
我们周围远远停着罗孚与奥斯汀,*2
我们头上是私密的车厢厢顶,
坐在我身边是我选择的姑娘,
鼻子略翘,声音在我心中回荡。
*2【均为汽车品牌。】
And the scent of her wrap, and the words never said,
And the ominous, ominous dancing ahead.
We sat in the car park till twenty to one
And now I’m engaged to Miss Joan Hunter Dunn.
她披肩上的香气若有若无,有些话语从未离唇,
即将参加的舞会多么烦人,多么烦人。
于是我们在停车场里并肩坐到午夜零点四十分,
如今乔安.杭特尔.邓恩已经与我约定了终身。
这首诗虽然文辞可爱,但也表明归根结底贝特曼算不得第一流的诗人。他过于卿卿我我,以至于有些矫揉造作。日后他将会赢得桂冠诗人的殊荣,并且投身文物保护工作,保住了一大批精美的维多利亚时代建筑,为英国文化事业做出了重大贡献。话说回来,1939年英国为之而战的许多价值观当中大概也包括卿卿我我与矫揉造作的权利,而且更加险恶的弊病正在海峡对岸变得越发醒目。
英国舆论精英的一分子
要真是这样就更讽刺了
为什么二战没有像一战那样留下一代著名且重要的英国诗人呢?答案是显而易见的。首先,尽管英军在北非、意大利、远东以及欧陆战场上都经历了激烈的格斗战,但是能与1914-1918年期间相提并论的大规模两军对垒却再没发生过。二战当中的军事冲突更加零散,就某些方面来说烈度也更低。其次,尽管W.H.奥登及其追随者们——其中有些人此时已经跑到了美国——做出了极大努力,但是诗歌这一文学形式似乎就是不如爱德华时代那样重要了。二战期间问世的诗歌不得不与电影、小说、纪录片以及回忆录一起争夺受众的注意力。最后,战争的惨状描写一次也就够了,而且几乎所有英国人都认为反希特勒战争具有毋庸置疑的道义正确性,而对抗德皇的战争在道义上则要模糊得多。
尽管如此,1939-1945年还是留下了不少既有趣又值得记住的诗歌。我们首先注意到,创作这批诗歌的诗人往往来自远离牛剑-伦敦大都市核心区的地方,例如约克郡、苏格兰与威尔士。这一趋势将会持续到战争结束之后很久。似乎随着诗歌在英国文化当中的地位日益边缘化,被大都会精英们忽视的广大其他地区也获得了更宽松的创作空间。无论原因如何,这股潮流都不容错认。
最优秀的英国二战诗人是一位如今已经不太出名的亨利.里德。此人于1914年生于伯明翰,既认识W.H.奥登也认识路易斯.马克尼斯。他于1941年应征入伍,不过在战争期间的大部分时间里都在闷闷不乐地担任日语翻译。战后他成为了一名剧作家与播音员,最后于1986年逝世。所谓军旅生涯未必就一定意味着金戈铁马,也可能意味着日复一日地应付无聊与愚蠢。里德笔下最著名的作品都以基础军训为题材。下面这首《零件的名称》(Naming of Parts)以冷幽默的笔法描写了枪械使用培训的场景。诗句当中潜藏着针对传统权威的不耐烦。正是这种情绪将会在1945年将英国第一届社会主义政府推上台。
To-day we have naming of parts. Yesterday,
We had daily cleaning. And to-morrow morning,
We shall have what to do after firing. But to-day,
To-day we have naming of parts. Japonica
Glistens like coral in all of the neighboring gardens,
And to-day we have naming of parts.
今天我们来学习步枪零件的名称。昨天,
我们学过了日常清洁枪械的方法。明天上午,
我们要学习射击之后的清洁方法。可今天,
今天我们来学习步枪零件的名称。日本茶花
在周边花园里亮若珊瑚,
今天我们来学习步枪零件的名称。
This is the lower sling swivel. And this
Is the upper sling swivel, whose use you will see,
When you are given your slings. And this is the piling swivel,
Which in your case you have not got. The branches
Hold in the gardens their silent, eloquent gestures,
Which in our case we have not got.
这是背带下扣。这是
背带上扣,至于用途嘛,
等你们拿到背带就知道了。这是架枪扣,
你们目前还没发。枝条
在花园里保持着肃静动人的姿态,
你们目前还没发。
This is the safety-catch, which is always released
With an easy flick of the thumb. And please do not let me
See anyone using his finger. You can do it quite easy
If you have any strength in your thumb. The blossoms
Are fragile and motionless, never letting anyone see
Any of them using their finger.
这是保险拴,打开保险栓的方式,
永远都是用拇指轻轻一弹。谁都别让我看见
用别的指头。开保险很容易,
只要大拇指略微有点儿劲。绽放的花朵,
脆弱且一动不动,别让任何人看见
有谁用别的指头。
And this you can see is the bolt. The purpose of this
Is to open the breech, as you see. We can slide it
Rapidly backwards and forwards: we call this
Easing the spring. And rapidly backwards and forwards
The early bees are assaulting and fumbling the flowers:
They call it easing the Spring.
你们看,这个是枪栓,它的用处
是拉开枪膛,你们看。我们可以快拉,
来来回回地拉,我们管这个
叫做松弹簧。早春的蜜蜂
飞快地来来回回,在鲜花从中乱冲乱撞,
他们管这个叫做松弹簧。
They call it easing the Spring: it is perfectly easy
If you have any strength in your thumb: like the bolt,
And the breech, and the cocking-piece, and the point of balance,
Which in our case we have not got; and the almond-blossom
Silent in all of the gardens and the bees going backwards and forwards,
For to-day we have naming of parts.
他们管这个叫做松弹簧:再容易不过,
只要你的大拇指有点儿劲,就跟枪栓、
后膛、撞针、准星一样,
这些我们都还没发;杏花
静静地盛开在周边花园里,蜜蜂来来回回,
今天我们来学习步枪零件的名称。
里德并非一辈子只靠一首诗出名的诗人,但是他的其他诗歌传达的信息与这首诗太过相似,这里就不再多加介绍了。
基斯.道格拉斯出生在肯特的一户并不幸福的贫困家庭。他在战前创作的诗歌得到过T.S.艾略特的赏识。今天人们普遍认为他是英国最伟大的、曾经上过前线的二战诗人。他加入了北非的北安普敦郡义勇兵团,还亲身经历了阿拉曼战役。诺曼底登陆之后不久他牺牲在了战场上。有些人觉得他的诗文有些铁石心肠,但是这些文字自有一股单刀直入的气质以及直面战争毫无矫饰的态度。下面这首诗名叫《如何杀戮》(How to Kill),描写对象是手榴弹与狙击步枪——尽管道格拉斯本人是被德军迫击炮炸死的:
Under the parabola of a ball,
a child turning into a man,
I looked into the air too long.
The ball fell in my hand, it sang
in the closed fist: Open Open
Behold a gift designed to kill.
在皮球划出的抛物线下,
一个男孩长成了男人,
我打量天空太久了,
球落入我手,唱着歌
在紧攥的拳头里:打开打开
请看这旨在杀戮的礼物。
Now in my dial of glass appears
the soldier who is going to die.
He smiles, and moves about in ways
his mother knows, habits of his.
The wires touch his face: I cry
NOW. Death, like a familiar, hears
在我的玻璃刻度盘里出现了
那个即将死去的士兵。
他的微笑与举手投足
他的母亲都很熟悉,还有他的习惯。
铁丝网触碰了他的脸:我哭了
现在,死亡就像熟人一样听见
and look, has made a man of dust
of a man of flesh. This sorcery
I do. Being damned, I am amused
to see the centre of love diffused
and the wave of love travel into vacancy.
How easy it is to make a ghost.
并且注目观瞧,将血肉之人
化作尘土之人。这等妖法
由我施展。身负诅咒的我逗趣地
看到爱的中心扩散开来
爱的波浪在真空中传播。
制造鬼魂多么容易。
The weightless mosquito touches
her tiny shadow on the stone,
and with how like, how infinite
a lightness, man and shadow meet.
They fuse. A shadow is a man
when the mosquito death approaches.
全无重量的蚊子接触了
投在石头上的微小阴影,
多么相似,多么无穷
的轻盈,人与阴影相遇。
他们融合为一。阴影就是人
当蚊子的死亡接近时。
休.麦克迪尔米德掀起了苏格兰文艺复兴之后涌现出了许多苏格兰诗人,其中对于现代苏格兰文化影响最大的当属哈米什.亨德森。此人生在佩思郡的布莱尔高里,幼年时搬到了伦敦居住。他很早就参与了反纳粹抵抗活动,协助多名犹太人逃出了纳粹德国。他毕生都是左派,战争刚开始时还是个绥靖主义者。后来他成为了第五十一高地师的情报官以及第八军的发言人。《昔兰尼加的挽歌》(Elegies for the Dead in Cyrenaica)可以与基斯.道格拉斯的作品并称为最完整且最令人满意的二战期间英国战争诗歌。亨德森一方面抒发了他对于纳粹德国的蔑视,另一方面又表达了对于倒在中东沙漠里的普通德军士兵的同情。下面这段诗文节选的关键词“mak siccar”(不留后患)是当年罗伯特.布鲁斯的麾下将领之一大开杀戒之后的名言——此人朝一名垂死的敌人身上捅了最后一刀。
We'll mak siccar!
Against the bashing cudgel!
against the comtemptuous triumphs of the big battalions
mak siccar against the monkish adepts
of total war aginst the oppressed oppressors
mak siccar against the leaching lies
against the worked out systems of sick perversion
mak siccar
against the executioner
against the tyrannous myth and the real terror
mak siccar
我们将不留后患!
对抗猛挥的棍棒!
对抗大兵团的可鄙胜利
不留后患对抗僧侣一般的
全面战争的能手对抗遭到压制的压迫者
不留后患对抗水蛭般的谎言
对抗疾患变态的疲累体系
不留后患
对抗刽子手
对抗暴虐的传说与真正的恐怖
不留后患
可是士兵们又如何呢?
No blah about their sacrifice: rather tears or reviling
of the time that took them, than an insult so outrageous.
All barriers are down: in the criss-crossed enclosures
where most now lie assembled in their aching solitude
those others lie too – who were also the sacrificed
of history’s great rains, of the destructive transitions.
This one beach where high seas have disgorged them like flotsam
reveals in its nakedness their ultimate alliance.
没有关于他们牺牲的废话:宁可流泪或者抹黑
他们耗费的时间,也胜过如此骇人的侮辱。
一切障碍都被拆除:在纵横划分的阵地上
大多数人现在一起躺在他们那痛苦的孤寂当中
其他人也躺在了那里——他们也是牺牲者
为了历史的暴雨,为了毁灭的变身。
在这片海滩大海将他们像浮渣一样吐出
赤裸裸地揭露了他们最根本的结盟。
如果质问亨德森——日后他将会成为一名共产主义者——这一切杀戮的意义究竟是什么?他的回答是人道国际主义:
So the words that I have looked for and must go on looking for
Are words of whole love, which can slowly gain the power
To reconcile and heal. Other words would be pointless.
我曾经寻找并且必须继续寻找的词语
是完全之爱的词语,将会缓慢获得力量
去和解与愈合。其他词语毫无意义。
亨德森小时候在佩思郡见识过吉普赛人歌舞团的风采,因此从一开始他就具有强烈的民间传统意识。他对苏格兰文化的最大贡献其实还发生在二战结束之后。他带着一台简陋的录音机走遍了苏格兰各地,赶在许多民间歌谣与故事最终消失之前将其保留了下来。爱丁堡大学正是凭借他采集的这批语料才开设了苏格兰研究学院,苏格兰的民间音乐与歌谣创作也正因此才得以繁荣至今。亨德森本人也创作过歌谣,例如著名歌曲《D日逃兵之歌》(Song of the D-Day Dodgers)的问世也有他的一份功劳。第八军在意大利作战时,英国下院第一位女议员阿斯特夫人在一次演讲中暗示道,其他战区的士兵们其实是躲过了D日海滩的苦战。这番言论激怒了大批盟军士兵,《D日逃兵之歌》就是第八军宣泄怒火的产物。如果你想听一听二战期间英军士兵的心声,不妨从这首诗入手:
We're the D-Day Dodgers out in Italy
Always on the vino, always on the spree.
Eighth Army scroungers and their tanks
We live in Rome – among the Yanks.
We are the D-Day Dodgers, over here in Italy.
我们是D日逃兵,跑到了意大利。
葡萄酒不离口,永远笑嘻嘻。
第八军的二流子也有脸开坦克,
我们住在罗马——跟扬基佬唠嗑。
我们是D日逃兵,跑到了意大利。
We landed at Salerno, a holiday with pay,
Jerry brought the band down to cheer us on our way
Showed us the sights and gave us tea,
We all sang songs, the beer was free.
We are the D-Day Dodgers, way out in Italy.
我们权当休带薪假,登陆在萨勒诺,
德国鬼子的军乐队一路上多欢乐
给我们沏茶还带我们游玩,
我们比赛拉歌,啤酒都不要钱。
我们是D日逃兵,跑到了意大利。
The Volturno and Cassino were taken in our stride.
We didn't have to fight there. We just went for the ride.
Anzio and Sangro were all forlorn.
We did not do a thing from dusk to dawn.
For we are the D-Day Dodgers, over here in Italy.
沃尔图诺与卡西诺我们随便就占领
我们根本不用打仗,就是随便看风景。
安齐奥与桑格罗都没人把守,
一天从早到晚我们啥事都没有。
我们是D日逃兵,跑到了意大利。
On our way to Florence we had a lovely time.
We ran a bus to Rimini right through the Gothic Line.
On to Bologna we did go.
Then we went bathing in the Po.
For we are the D-Day Dodgers, over here in Italy.
我们向佛罗伦萨进军一路上好景色
穿过哥德防线去里米尼坐着公交车。
我们继续前进向博洛尼亚,
来到波河边,集体洗刷刷。
我们是D日逃兵,跑到了意大利。
Once we had a blue light that we were going home
Back to dear old Blighty, never more to roam.
Then somebody said in France you'll fight.
We said never mind, we'll just sit tight,
The windy D-Day Dodgers, out in Sunny Italy.
一盏蓝灯亮起回家时刻终来到,
回到亲爱不列颠不必再到处飘,
然后有人说我们要去法国作战,
我们说没必要,我们只想坐着看,
扯淡的D日逃兵,躲在明媚意大利。
Now Lady Astor, get a load of this.
Don't stand up on a platform and talk a load of piss.
You're the nation's sweetheart, the nation's pride
We think your mouth's too bloody wide.
We are the D-Day Dodgers, in Sunny Italy.
阿斯特夫人这番话请您牢记。
不要整天高谈阔论满嘴光放屁。
您是国家甜心,国家的骄傲
满嘴跑火车,我们觉着不能要
我们是D日逃兵,躲在明媚意大利。
When you look 'round the mountains, through the mud and rain
You'll find the crosses, some which bear no name.
Heartbreak, and toil and suffering gone
The boys beneath them slumber on
They were the D-Day Dodgers, who'll stay in Italy.
当你穿过泥浆大雨看到山的另一面,
满地十字架,有些连姓名都不见。
再也不必受苦费力与心碎,
地下的小伙子全都安然入睡。
他们曾是D日逃兵,将会留在意大利。
So listen all you people, over land and foam
Even though we've parted, our hearts are close to home.
When we return we hope you'll say
"You did your little bit, though far away
All of the D-Day Dodgers, way out there in Italy."
所以你们全都听好,无论陆地与海上
就算我们离开,心也还贴近家乡。
当我们回来希望你们这么说:
“尽管离家千里,他们尽到了职责,
全体D日逃兵,远远在意大利。”
这首诗脱胎于当时十分流行的军中歌曲——歌词的版本很多——最初的作者是78军坦克救助小队的代理中士哈利.潘恩。需要指出的是,阿斯特夫人并未在下院发言当中使用“D日逃兵”这个词,但是军人们对于自己的贡献遭到贬低的怨气却是实实在在的。亨德森是当时一大批英军官兵的代表,这些人一方面认为未来属于国际主义与天下大同的潮流,同时又认为眼下这场战争是值得一战的“正义战争”。亨德森性情过于叛逆自主,以至于无法成为一名合格的共产主义者。但是他笔下最著名的诗作确实采取了社会主义立场,为苏格兰帝国主义表示了歉疚。如今苏格兰议会召开时总会集体歌唱这首诗,几乎将其当成了苏格兰的第二国歌。诗歌名叫《自由降临所有人》(Freedom Come All-Ye)。仅仅看文字并不足以领略诗文的迫切张力,必须要搭配风笛乐曲《该死的弗兰德斯战场》唱出来才有滋味:
Roch the wind in the clear day’s dawin
Blaws the cloods heelster-gowdie ow’r the bay,
But there’s mair nor a roch wind blawin
Through the great glen o’ the warld the day.
It’s a thocht that will gar oor rottans
– A’ they rogues that gang gallus, fresh and gay –
Tak the road, and seek ither loanins
For their ill ploys, tae sport and play
烈风呼啸扫清了白日的黎明
吹散了海湾上空的层层积云
但是今天并非单纯的狂风大作,
从世界的伟大峡谷当中呼啸穿过。
这是一股思想,将会吓坏各种鼠辈,
还有平日里大摇大摆的各路匪类,
吓得他们赶紧跑路另寻栖身之地
从而继续去实施一肚子阴谋诡计。
Nae mair will the bonnie callants
Mairch tae war when oor braggarts crousely craw,
Nor wee weans frae pit-heid and clachan
Mourn the ships sailin’ doon the Broomielaw.
Broken faimlies in lands we’ve herriet,
Will curse Scotland the Brave nae mair, nae mair;
Black and white, ane til ither mairriet,
Mak the vile barracks o’ their maisters bare.
我们的小伙子们今后再也不必
上战场拼杀,为了吹鼓手们的利益。
来自矿坑与农舍的孩子再也不用哭泣
看着运兵船向克莱德河下游驶去
我们帮助镇压过的土地上的破碎家庭
再也无需诅咒苏格兰人的勇敢姓名。
黑人与白人,通过友谊与爱情,
定要掀翻奴隶主的肮脏军营。
So come all ye at hame wi’ Freedom,
Never heed whit the hoodies croak for doom.
In your hoose a’ the bairns o’ Adam
Can find breid, barley-bree and painted room.
When MacLean meets wi’s freens in Springburn
A’ the roses and geans will turn tae bloom,
And a black boy frae yont Nyanga
Dings the fell gallows o’ the burghers doon.
热爱自由的人们都向此地靠近,
食腐乌鸦的吓人话语切莫听信
所有亚当的子嗣在你家不要见外,
面包、麦酒与粉刷的房间将你们招待。
当麦克雷恩回到斯普林本的乡亲们身边*1
玫瑰与樱桃树都要鲜花盛开满天
来自尼扬加的黑人少年多有志气,*2
定要将当权者的绞刑架推倒落地。
*1【约翰.麦克雷恩(John MacLean)是出身格拉斯哥的革命者,斯普林本是工人阶级为主的产业城市。】
*2【可能指代纳尔逊.曼德拉。】
尽管亨德森的创作活动一直持续到二十世纪七十年代,反对部署北极星制导导弹的抗议运动也催生了一首脍炙人口的歌谣,但是二十世纪四十年代对于苏格兰诗坛来说依然是承前启后的重要十年。一大批苏格兰诗人从麦克迪尔米德的阴影当中走了出来。有些人用苏格兰语创作,也有些人用英语,索利.麦克林干脆用盖尔语。这其中最具才华的一位当属罗伯特.加里奥赫。他生在爱丁堡,父亲是一名画家。二战期间他应征加入了皇家通信团,还在德国战俘营里蹲了三年。他笔下最具特色的诗作都是针对爱丁堡日常生活的讽刺,创作于战争之后,用得是苏格兰语。他还是一名出色的翻译,将罗马诗人乔赛普.贝利的毒舌意大利语十四行诗翻译成了苏格兰语。下面这首诗名叫《意大利来信》(Letter from Italy),是一封从北非战场发往国内的情书:
From large red bugs, a refugee,
I make my bed beneath the sky,
safe from the crawling enemy
though not secure from nimbler flea.
Late summer darkness comes, and now
I see again the homely Plough
and wonder: do you also see
the seven stars as well as I?
And it is good to find a tie
of seven stars from you to me.
Lying on deck, on friendly seas,
I used to watch, with no delight,
new unsuggestive stars that light
the tedious Antipodes.
Now in a hostile land I lie,
but share with you these
ancient high familiar named divinities.
Perimeters have bounded me,
sad rims of desert and of sea,
the famous one around Tobruk,
and now barbed wire, which way I look,
except above - the Pleiades.
一名躲避硕大红臭虫的难民,
我在天幕下铺床,
远离蠢蠢欲动的敌人们,
尽管躲不开更灵活的跳蚤
夏末的夜色终于降临,现在
我再次看到了家所在的普劳市
并且心想:你是否也会
像我一样看到北斗七星?
能找到北斗星这样的纽带
来连接你我,真是很好。
躺在甲板上,在温柔的海面航行,
我曾经毫不开心地观察
一本正经的新星,星光照亮了
身边乏味的节肢动物。
现在我躺在敌对的土地,
但依然与你分享这些
古代命名的、熟悉的崇高神祇。
周边环境束缚了我,
困在沙漠与海水的悲哀交界,
位于名城托布鲁克外围,
举目所见到处都是铁丝网
唯独的例外在于抬头看——那是昴星团。
接下来这首诗名叫《个人财产》(Property),反映了战争会怎样剥除一个人的外在,只留下内里的本质,并且将他原本关于哪些事物更加重要的看法震得粉碎:
Our man should have no thought for property
he said, and drank down his pint.
Mirage is found in the desert and elsewhere
Later, in Libya (sand & scrub,
the Sun two weeks to Midsummer)
he carried all his property over the sand:
socks, knife and spoon, a dixie,
toilet kit, the Works of Shakespeare,
blanket, groundsheet, greatcoat,
and a water bottle holding no more water...
我们的人不该想着财产
他说,一口喝干了啤酒。
到处都是海市蜃楼,在沙漠里
以及之后在利比亚(黄沙与灌木
进入仲夏两周后的烈日)
他带着他的所有财产趴在沙地上:
袜子,小刀,勺子,塑料叉子,
出恭用具,莎士比亚选集,
毯子,铺地单,大衣,
还有一个早就喝干了的水壶……
诗人与其他“被烤干的人们”一起走过沙漠——读者们恐怕会以为他们此时已经沦为了战俘——然后一阵酷热干风就刮了起来:
Suffusing the sand in the air,
the sun burned in darkness.
No man now whistled, only the sandy wind.
The greatcoat first, then blanket discarded
and the other property lay absurd on the Desert,
but he kept his water-bottle.
In February, in a cold wet climate,
he has permanent damp in his bones
for the lack of that groundsheet.
He has a different notion of the values of things.
黄沙在空气中弥漫,
太阳在黑暗中燃烧。
没有人再吹口哨,只有风卷黄沙。
先扔掉了大衣,又扔掉了毯子,
然后其他物品也可笑地躺在了沙漠里。
但是他留住了自己的水壶。
在二月,在潮湿阴冷的天气
潮气始终藏身在他的骨头缝
因为铺地单没有了。
他对于事物价值的理解不太一样。
加里奥赫的诗文不遮不掩,毫无自怜心态,以他人所不能及的笔力展示了战争的真相。但是加里奥赫的典型作品还是讽刺诗,用语杂糅了苏格兰语与英语。下面这首诗名叫《伟人一瞥》(Glisk of the Great):
I saw him comin out the N.B.Grill
Creashy and winey, wi his famous voice
Crackin some comic bawr to please three choice
Notorious bailies, lauchan fit to kill
我看他走出了N.B.格利尔饭店,*
满面油光,浑身酒气,一开腔人人熟悉
满嘴抖包袱,要让身边三位要人满意,
都是臭名昭著的治安官,好一身气派打扮。
*【N.B.格利尔饭店是位于爱丁堡王子大街上的一家豪华餐厅。】
Syne thae fowre crousie cronies clam intill
A muckle big municipal Rolls Royce,
And disappeared, aye lauchan, wi a noise
That dront the taffc, towards the Calton Hill.
四位勾肩搭背的人物手脚并用地爬进
市政府的公车,好大一辆劳斯莱斯,
一阵突突乱响,车子开动,立刻消失
汇入车流,朝着加尔顿山的方向前进。
As they rade by, it seemed the sun was shinin
Brichter nor usual roun thae cantie three
That wi thon willkent Heid-yin had been dinin.
随着他们的汽车驶过,看起来阳光照射
在这三位身上,更加明亮耀眼,
陪着大佬吃一顿饭,阳光平添几分亮色。
Nou that's the kinna thing I like to see;
Tho ye and I look on an canna jyn in,
It gies our toun some tone, ye'll aa agree.
这一幕真是看得我心花怒放,
尽管他们吃饭肯定不会叫上咱们,
可是不得不说,他们壮观了本市的气象。
这首诗并不会出自休.麦克迪尔米德之手——因为写得太温和了。但是它显示了苏格兰文学复兴的成果。自从罗伯特.弗格森死后,或者说自从中世纪晚期的邓巴与亨利森之后就似乎消失的笔调与精神似乎在二十世纪得到了奇迹般的恢复。
而且不光是苏格兰。正当加里奥赫与其他苏格兰诗人们昂首阔步地前进时,一位年轻的威尔士诗人狄兰.托马斯也正在崭露头角。今天的读者提起托马斯往往不会将他视为战争诗人当中的一员。他喜好痛饮,精神上是一位超现实主义者,还具有笔下生花的非凡天赋。另一方面,他的短暂一生的大部分时间多在伦敦度过,亲历了德军的闪电战,并且用诗歌生动记录了战争对于普通民众们的影响。下面这首诗的题目就叫做《清晨空袭的遇害者当中有一位百岁老人》(Among those killed in the dawn raid was a man aged a hundred):
When the morning was waking over the war
He put on his clothes and stepped out and he died,
The locks yawned loose and a blast blew them wide,
He dropped where he loved on the burst pavement stone
And the funeral grains of the slaughtered floor.
Tell his street on its back he stopped a sun
And the craters of his eyes grew springshots and fire
When all the keys shot from the locks, and rang.
Dig no more for the chains of his grey-haired heart.
The heavenly ambulance drawn by a wound
Assembling waits for the spade's ring on the cage.
O keep his bones away from the common cart,
The morning is flying on the wings of his age
And a hundred storks perch on the sun's right hand.
当清晨被战争唤醒
他穿上衣服走出门然后就死了,
门还没锁,呵欠般敞着,又被气浪轰开,
他倒在了曾经爱过的地方,人行道铺石飞溅,
恰似葬礼上的谷粒,落在屠场的地面
告诉他那仰面朝天的街道,他停住了太阳
他眼里的弹坑生长出了流弹与烈火
所有的钥匙从锁眼中射出并且鸣响。
不要再为他那颗白发之心的锁链而挖掘。
被伤口吸引来的天堂救护车
集结在一旁,等待铁铲切中铁笼的那一刻。
啊,让他的骨骸远离普通的马车
这个清晨将要插上他的高寿的双翼
一百只鹳鸟将栖息在太阳的右手上。
就像许多艺术家一样,狄兰.托马斯的思想也有好走极端的一面,下面这首《拒绝哀悼死于伦敦大火中的孩子》(A Refusal to Mourn the Death, by Fire, of a Child in London)就是个好例子。托马斯的诗文往往失之于滔滔不绝的任性放纵,诗句当中的词语与象征几乎各有主张。像这样的晚期浪漫主义风格在四十年代的英国可谓相当醒目。但是在这首诗当中,托马斯却极力控制住了自己的奔放笔触,为自己披上了一层往往与十七世纪宗教诗人联系在一起的庄严宏大气象:
Never until the mankind making
Bird beast and flower
Fathering and all humbling darkness
Tells with silence the last light breaking
And the still hour
Is come of the sea tumbling in harness
直到人类的力量
能将鸟兽鲜花创作
那万物之父,令万物低头的黑暗
才会无声地吩咐最后一线光亮
那静寂的时刻
将会来自轭具下的大海的噪乱
And I must enter again the round
Zion of the water bead
And the synagogue of the ear of corn
Shall I let pray the shadow of a sound
Or sow my salt seed
In the least valley of sackcloth to mourn
而我也再度来到
水珠一般浑圆的圣地
以及玉蜀黍的辉煌圣殿
那时我才能用影子一般的声音祷告
把我那拌了盐粒的种子
悲恸地撒满每一道披着麻布的山涧。
The majesty and burning of the child's death.
I shall not murder
The mankind of her going with a grave truth
Nor blaspheme down the stations of the breath
With any further
Elegy of innocence and youth.
那孩子的死亡高贵而又灼烫
我不会杀戮
她的人类,伴随着严峻的现实
更不会将那呼吸借以栖身的站台毁谤
以至于更进一步
唱起无辜与青春的悼词。
Deep with the first dead lies London's daughter,
Robed in the long friends,
The grains beyond age, the dark veins of her mother,
Secret by the unmourning water
Of the riding Thames.
After the first death, there is no other.
伦敦的女儿与最初的死者并肩躺卧
披裹着长长的朋友行列
亘古的谷物,她母亲的黑暗血脉
沉入了无情流水的缄默
泰晤士河滔滔入海,毫不关切。
最初的死亡之后,死亡不会再来。
在搬到伦敦之前,托马斯断断续续地在威尔士乡间度过了自己的童年时光。四十年代英国文化界的浪漫主义回潮——无疑是针对三十年代政治诗歌以及现代主义思潮的反动——看上去往往极其累人。这一时期出现了大量故作古风的绘画与端着架子的诗歌。但是托马斯笔下最优秀的作品却充满了草木清新之气,至今读起来仍能令人心曳神驰。以下选取的是《蕨山》(Fern Hill)一诗的开头:
Now as I was young and easy under the apple boughs
About the lilting house and happy as the grass was green,
The night above the dingle starry,
Time let me hail and climb
Golden in the heydays of his eyes,
And honoured among wagons I was prince of the apple towns
And once below a time I lordly had the trees and leaves
Trail with daisies and barley
Down the rivers of the windfall light.
苹果树枝下舒展着年轻的我
在欢快的房子旁边,像绿草一样快乐,
幽谷的夜空繁星闪烁,
时间让我欢呼与攀登。
美好的岁月在他眼中镀上金色,
苹果镇上的王子,马车簇拥着我。
曾经美好的日子,我统治着树木和叶子。
小径遍布着雏菊和麦穗。
溪流中被风吹落。
And as I was green and carefree, famous among the barns
About the happy yard and singing as the farm was home,
In the sun that is young once only,
Time let me play and be
Golden in the mercy of his means,
And green and golden I was huntsman and herdsman, the calves
Sang to my horn, the foxes on the hills barked clear and cold,
And the sabbath rang slowly
In the pebbles of the holy streams.
躺在谷仓里,青涩而无忧的我。
家是幸福的庭院和歌,
在只年轻一次的太阳里,
时间让我玩耍与放肆
金色年华仰赖他的垂怜施舍,
嫩绿而又金黄,我是猎手与牧人,牛犊
随我的号角而歌唱,和着山上狐狸清冷的吠声,
还有悠扬的唱诗班的歌。
在圣泉的鹅卵石间流淌着。
All the sun long it was running, it was lovely, the hay
Fields high as the house, the tunes from the chimneys, it was air
And playing, lovely and watery
And fire green as grass.
And nightly under the simple stars
As I rode to sleep the owls were bearing the farm away,
All the moon long I heard, blessed among stables, the nightjars
Flying with the ricks, and the horses
Flashing into the dark.
整日都在奔跑,多么可爱,田野里的
草垛像房子那么高,烟囱踩着节拍,吞吐着烟火。
雀跃着,可爱又水灵的
火苗像青草一样碧绿。
明朗的夜空疏星错落。
梦中我骑着猫头鹰从农场上飞过,
整夜里听着,夜鹰的群祷
飞过马厩和草垛。【日野俊基网友译,有修改】
在英伦三岛的另一边也有另一个小男孩正在享受无拘无束的快乐童年,他所在的地区长期以来似乎都被二十世纪遗忘了。埃德温.缪亚生于1887年,出生地是奥克尼群岛。他从小耳濡目染的环境充满了口口相传的民间故事,纯靠人力与畜力的农耕与捕鱼,日常生活中几乎见不到机械。1901年全家人搬到了格拉斯哥,而他终生都没能从远离乐园的创伤当中恢复过来。缪亚一开始结交了休.麦克迪尔米德,后来又与其反目,并且背离了苏格兰民族主义。他是一位国际主义者,将卡夫卡的作品翻译介绍给了英国读者。他活到了核战恐怖笼罩全球的时代,而核战也成为了他笔下最优美的诗作之一《马》(Horses)的模糊背景。他在诗中对比了童年的奥克尼与二十世纪的世界:
Those lumbering horses in the steady plough,
On the bare field-I wonder why, just now,
They seem terrible, so wild and strange,
Like magic power on the stony grange
马匹拖着平稳的犁,步履蹒跚地走过
贫瘠的田地——我不知道为何在此时此刻
它们看上去如此可怖、狂野而又怪异,
恰似笼罩石头谷仓的魔力。
Perhaps some childish hour has come again,
When I watched fearful, through the blackening rain,
Their hooves like pistons in an ancient mill
Move up and down, yet seem as standing still.
或许某些幼稚的时刻再度来临,
我恐惧地看着,透过大雨倾盆,
它们的四蹄恰似古老工厂里的活塞运动
一上一下地发力,然而却看似一动不动。
Their conquering hooves which trod the stubble down
Were ritual that turned the field to brown,
And their great hulks were seraphim of gold,
Or mute ecstatic monsters on the mould.
征服的四蹄将秸秆残茬全都踩倒
将田地变成棕色的仪式不可缺少,
恰似炽天使的金身,是它们的硕大身材,
又好似沉默而狂喜的怪物从土丘上走来。
And oh the rapture, when, one furrow done,
They marched broad-breasted to the sinking sun!
The light flowed off their bossy sides in flakes;
The furrows rolled behind like struggling snakes.
何等的喜悦,当它们耕完一行,
挺着宽阔的胸口,走向沉没的夕阳
余晖落在它们壮硕的身躯,又流淌在地
蜿蜒的田垄好似巨蛇正在悄然发力。
But when at dusk with streaming nostrils home
They came, they seemed gigantic in the gloam
And warm and glowing with mysterious fire
That lit their smouldering bodies in the mire.
但是当它们在傍晚走来,鼻孔喷着白气升腾,
暮光下它们的体型看上去真是硕大无朋
温暖且熠熠生辉,神秘的火焰
点燃了它们阴燃的身躯在沼地里面。
Their eyes as brilliant and as wide as the night
Gleamed with a cruel apocalyptic light.
Their manes the leaping ire of the wind
Lifted with rage invisible and blind.
它们的双眼炯炯有神,如同夜晚一般狂放
闪烁着残忍的、末日劫难一般的光亮。
它们的鬃毛在风中跃动竖立
彰显着无形而又盲目的怒气。
Ah, now it fades! It fades! And I must pine
Again for that dread country crystalline,
Where the black field and the still-standing tree
Were bright and fearful presences to me
啊,消逝了!消逝了!我这才长出一口气
骇人的乡村结晶吓得我毛骨悚立
黑色的田野,一动不动的树木,
在我眼中既明亮又可怖。
缪亚还有另一首诗名叫《马群》(The Horses),创作于战后。这首诗更加露骨地描写了若隐若现的全球威胁。有些读者可能会认为将这首诗收录在本章节是放错了地方,而且将同一位诗人关于几乎同一个主题的两首诗歌摆在一起也有些过头。但是对于许多作家来说——埃德温.缪亚完全可以充当他们的代言人——二战的恐怖与纳粹的杀戮集中营预示着一个远比过去更加邪恶危险的世界。此后不久出现的核毁灭威胁又进一步加剧了这种感受:人类不仅离开了伊甸园,而且正在步入地狱。后人或许会觉得这是在无病呻吟,但是四十年代的许多作家们都不会这么想。以下节选的是第二首诗的开头,神秘的巨马再一次出现在了诗人面前:
Barely a twelvemonth after
The seven days war that put the world to sleep,
Late in the evening the strange horses came.
By then we had made our covenant with silence,
But in the first few days it was so still
We listened to our breathing and were afraid.
On the second day
The radios failed; we turned the knobs; no answer.
On the third day a warship passed us, heading north,
Dead bodies piled on the deck. On the sixth day
A plane plunged over us into the sea. Thereafter
Nothing. The radios dumb...
那场叫世界昏迷的七日之战过后
不过十二个月,
一个傍晚,夜色已深,这群奇怪的马来了。
那时候,我们刚同寂静定了盟约,
但开始几天太冷静了,
我们听着自己的呼吸声音,感到害怕。
第二天,
收音机坏了,我们转着旋钮,没有声音;
第三天一条兵舰驶过,朝北开去,
甲板上堆满了死人。第六天,
一架飞机越过我们头上,栽进海里。
此后什么也没有了。收音机变成哑巴……
接下来诗人设想了工业化世界的衰亡景象。农夫们纷纷抛弃了拖拉机:
The tractors lie about our fields; at evening
They look like dank sea-monsters couched and waiting.
We leave them where they are and let them rust:
'They'll molder away and be like other loam.'
We make our oxen drag our rusty plows,
Long laid aside. We have gone back
Far past our fathers' land.
And then, that evening
Late in the summer the strange horses came.
We heard a distant tapping on the road,
A deepening drumming; it stopped, went on again
And at the corner changed to hollow thunder.
We saw the heads
Like a wild wave charging and were afraid...
几架拖拉机停在我们的田地上,一到晚上
它们象湿淋淋的海怪蹲着等待什么。
我们让它们在那里生锈——
“它们会腐朽,犹如别的土壤。”
我们拿生了锈的耕犁套在牛背后,
已经多年不用这犁了。我们退回到
远远越过我们父辈的土地的年代
接着,那天傍晚,
夏天快结束的时候,那群奇怪的马来了。
我们听见远远路上一阵敲击声,
咚咚地越来越响了,停了一下,又响了,
等到快拐弯的时候变成了一片雷鸣。
我们看见它们的头
象狂浪般向前涌进,感到害怕……【王佐良译】
随着我们进入二十世纪中叶,缪亚的诗歌看上去十分鼓舞人心。因为这些诗歌表明,就算不借助过度的机巧或者机心,也一样能创作出扣人心弦且感情成熟的诗歌来描绘世界的本来面目。自从爱德华时代以来,英国诗歌有时看上去变得越发疲弱且缺乏血气,到处疲惫不堪地找寻着新题材。缪亚则不容置疑地证明了可以用于诗歌创作的题材还有很多,即便这些题材在伦敦市内或者名牌大学里面不太容易发现。
但是难以发现不等同于发现不了,只要诗人具有恰当的敏感性就行。弗洛伦丝.玛格丽特.史密斯——读者们更熟悉她的男性化笔名史蒂威.史密斯——生在赫尔市,长在伦敦城北的帕尔默斯格林。她从小的家庭环境几乎只有女性,因为她那个不靠谱的父亲很早就抛弃了妻女家人,之后也很少与她互通音信。史蒂威.史密斯的大半辈子时间都在出版行业做文秘,并且终生疾病缠身。但是在这层密不透风的局促生平之内却发展出了一颗别出机杼的头脑。史蒂威.史密斯也写小说,但是她最出名的作品还是诗歌。她的诗文殊为不易地平衡了两种截然相反的特质,一边是童稚天真的喜剧,另一边是成年人对于死亡与人生不如意的黑暗而又大体悲观的认知。她之所以重要,部分原因在于她定下的基调至今依然流行——一个局促不安、两眼闪亮的孩子面对着漠不关心的成人世界述说真理。史密斯不“像”任何其他诗人,但是笔者品读她的作品时依然忍不住想起克里斯托弗.斯玛特,他也是一位孩童一般的知识分子,流落在了充满痛苦的世界里。以下是她的《独自在树林》(Alone in the Woods):
Alone in the woods I felt
The bitter hostility of the sky and the trees
Nature has taught her creatures to hate
Man that fusses and fumes
Unquiet man
As the sap rises in the trees
As the sap paints the trees a violent green
So rises the wrath of Nature's creatures
At man
So paints the face of Nature a violent green.
Nature is sick at man
Sick at his fuss and fume
Sick at his agonies
Sick at his gaudy mind
That drives his body
Ever more quickly
More and more
In the wrong direction.
独自在树林里我感到
天空与树木的苦涩敌意
自然教会了她的造物们去憎恨
吵闹作乱的人类
不安静的人类
随着树枝沿着树干提升
终于发作
将自然的面孔涂成了暴戾的翠绿
自然厌恶人类
厌恶他的吵闹作乱
厌恶他的无病呻吟
驱动他的身体
越来越远地
朝着错误的方向运动。
与现代主义者们截然相反,史密斯的笔法平铺直叙有一说一,容不得宏大的政治叙事。她对于下一代英国诗人的影响长期以来都遭到了低估。到了五十年代,这一批诗人将会被冠以“运动诗人”的统称,其中包括菲利普.拉金、金斯利.艾米斯、伊丽莎白.詹宁斯以及唐纳德.戴维等人。史密斯的创作生涯很长,她在二战爆发之前就崭露头角,直到七十年代依然笔耕不辍。她的专长是选取看似渺小的事物作为题材,做出令人无法忘怀的宏大宣言。最能体现这一点的诗作当然是《并非在挥手,而是快要淹死》(Not Waving but Drowning)。严格来说这并不是一首无韵诗,写作技巧也是极为高超——快速切入动作情节,毫无拖泥带水,然后又干净利落地抽身而退:
Nobody heard him, the dead man,
But still he lay moaning:
I was much further out than you thought
And not waving but drowning.
谁也听不见他,那个死人,
但他还躺在那里呻吟不止:
我比你以为的离岸更远
并非在挥手,而是快要淹死。
Poor chap, he always loved larking
And now he’s dead
It must have been too cold for him his heart gave way,
They said.
可怜鬼,他总是喜欢胡闹
结果现在就死了
肯定是水太凉,刺激得他心脏骤停,
他们都这么说。
Oh, no no no, it was too cold always
(Still the dead one lay moaning)
I was much too far out all my life
And not waving but drowning.
啊不不不,水从来都是这么凉
(死人还躺在那里呻吟不止:)
我在这一生中离岸太远
并非在挥手,而是快要淹死。
或许是因为她的笔名选自她童年时听说过的一位赛马骑师,读者们很容易就会觉得史蒂威.史密斯是一个不很严肃的人。这样的看法大错特错。身为作家的史密斯具有极强的道德感,也很喜欢臧否是非。早在二十世纪六十年代的社会革命与性革命兴起之前,四十年代的英国就已经经受了文化与道德层面的双重冲击。冲击的来源一方面在于战争导致的社会动荡——夫妻离异,家庭破裂,等等——另一方面源自抵达英国各地尤其是大城市的大批美军士兵造成了美国化影响。美军士兵带来了全新的词汇与习俗,也带来了更加放松的道德观念。因此毫不意外的是,英国社会涌现出了一股重新强调传统的风潮。史密斯无疑站在传统这一边。以下选取的是她的《宝贵》(Valuable),这首诗的题材是当时报纸上的两篇新闻,第一篇说的是英国非婚生子女数量大幅增长,第二篇说的是巴黎某动物园的花豹跑了出来:
All these illegitimnate babies ...
Oh girls, girls,
Silly little cheap things,
Why do you not put some value on yourselves,
Learn to say, No?
Did nobody teach you?
Nobody teaches anybody to say No nowadays,
People should teach people to say No ...
这么多私生的宝宝……
唉姑娘们,姑娘们,
你们这帮不值钱的小傻丫头们,
你们为什么这样不看重自己,
为什么不学着说不?
难道没人教过你们?
如今没有人教别人如何说不,
人们应当相互教授如何说不……
... Oh these illgitimate babies!
Oh girls, girls,
Silly little valuable things,
You should have said, No, I am valuable,
And again, It is because I am valuable
I say, No.
Nobody teaches anybody they are valuable nowadays.
……唉,这么多私生的宝宝!
唉姑娘们,姑娘们,
你们这帮宝贵的小傻丫头们,
你们本应该说,不,我很宝贵,
再说一遍,因为我很宝贵
所以我说,不。
如今没有人教别人如何说不。
史蒂威.史密斯的传统主义有时甚至会上升到精神高度,这一点在英国现代诗当中很不常见。笔者认为时至今日她依然遭到了严重低估。以下是史密斯诗作的最后一个例子,也是又一首显然出自主流诗歌文化边缘的作品,文笔十分火热。《一切都在忙着吃或被吃》(All things hurry to be eaten or eat)——她的笔锋也可以非常犀利:
Away, melancholy,
Away with it, let it go.
滚吧,忧郁,
快滚吧,快放手。
Are not the trees green,
The earth as green?
Does not the wind blow,
Fire leap and the rivers flow?
Away melancholy.
树难道不绿,
大地难道不绿?
风难道不飘,
河难道不流,火难道不烧?
滚吧,忧郁。
The ant is busy
He carrieth his meat,
All things hurry
To be eaten or eat.
Away, melancholy.
蚂蚁十分忙碌
背负着果腹的食料,
同样着忙的万物
要么吞吃,要么被吃掉
滚吧,忧郁。
Man, too, hurries,
Eats, couples, buries,
He is an animal also
With a hey ho melancholy,
Away with it, let it go.
人也同样着忙,
忙着吃饭、交媾、下葬,
他也是动物,
不过多了一分忧郁。
快滚吧,快放手。
Man of all creatures
Is superlative
(Away melancholy)
He of all creatures alone
Raiseth a stone
(Away melancholy)
Into the stone, the god
Pours what he knows of good
Calling, good, God.
Away melancholy, let it go.
人是一切生物当中
最高级的
(滚吧忧郁)
一切生物当中唯有他
树起了一块巨石
(滚吧忧郁)
神向巨石当中
灌注了他所知的善
将善称作,神。
滚吧忧郁,快放手。
Speak not to me of tears,
Tyranny, pox, wars,
Saying, Can God
Stone of man’s thoughts, be good?
Say rather it is enough
That the stuffed
Stone of man’s good, growing,
By man’s called God.
Away, melancholy, let it go.
不要跟我说什么眼泪
暴政、天花、战争,
说什么,上帝
人类思想的巨石,能否为善?
而是要说这已足够
那人类之善的填充巨石,凭借着
人们口中的上帝生长起来。
无论如何,忧郁,快放手。
Man aspires
To good,
To love
Sighs;
人类有抱负
去伪善,
去爱
叹气;
Beaten, corrupted, dying
In his own blood lying
Yet heaves up an eye above
Cries, Love, love.
It is his virtue needs explaining,
Not his failing.
被打倒,被败坏,奄奄一息
躺在他自己的血泊里
但还是抬起一只眼
呼叫着,爱,爱。
他的美德需要解释,
而不是他的失败。
Away, melancholy,
Away with it, let it go
滚吧,忧郁,
快滚吧,快放手。
本书的宗旨是将诗歌与社会风气的变迁联系在一起。编写本书的难点之一则在于有些诗人的创作生涯实在太长,一路上始终在变化,因此把他们放在哪一章都不合适。巴塞尔.邦廷就是一位这样的诗人。这位诺桑伯兰的现代主义者毫不客气地一直创作到了七十年代。但是下面这首诗《主席对汤姆说》(What The Chairman Told Tom)倒是应和了四十年代诗坛的另一大主题,也就是对于诗歌创作这门手艺越发缺乏信心。诗歌有什么用?诗歌在无线电广播与电视机当家做主的时代还能有何作为?下文当中我们将会看到W.H.奥登如何正面回答这个问题。不过邦廷假托招聘面试官之口发表的机智评论也大有可观:
Poetry? It’s a hobby.
I run model trains.
Mr Shaw there breeds pigeons.
诗歌?那就是个爱好。
我玩模型火车。
这边这位肖先生养鸽子。
It’s not work. You don’t sweat.
Nobody pays for it.
You could advertise soap.
写诗不算劳动。你又不出汗,
也没人付工资。
你还不如去写肥皂广告。
Art, that’s opera; or repertory —
The Desert Song.
Nancy was in the chorus.
艺术,那说得是歌剧;或者话剧——
《沙漠之歌》。
南希在合唱队待过。
But to ask for twelve pounds a week —
married, aren’t you? —
you’ve got a nerve.
不过居然敢要一周十二镑的工资——
你结婚了,是吧?
你胆子倒是挺大。
How could I look a bus conductor
in the face
if I paid you twelve pounds?
要是给你十二镑,
我还哪里有脸面对公交车
售票员?
Who says it’s poetry, anyhow?
My ten year old
can do it and rhyme.
再说了,谁说你写的那叫诗?
我十岁的孩子,
也会写会押韵。
I get three thousand and expenses,
a car, vouchers,
but I’m an accountant.
我年薪三千,不算公务开支,
给我配了车,还发购物券,
可我就是个会计。
They do what I tell them,
my company.
What do you do?
这是我的公司,
他们都听我的。
你会干啥?
Nasty little words, nasty long words,
it’s unhealthy.
I want to wash when I meet a poet.
小词也烂,大词也烂,
有碍身体。
碰见诗人我就想洗澡。
They’re Reds, addicts,
all delinquents.
What you write is rot.
他们都是些赤匪,瘾君子,
全都不是好东西。
你写的这些都是垃圾。
Mr Hines says so, and he’s a schoolteacher,
he ought to know.
Go and find work.
海因斯先生也这么说,他可是中学老师,
道理他比我懂。
赶紧找份正经工作去吧。
在战争时期,战前英国诗坛的两大巨人依然处于巅峰创作状态,一位是在美国写诗的英国人奥登,另一位是在英国写诗的美国人T.S.艾略特。这两人都不喜欢直接在诗歌当中描写天下大事,但是就像史蒂威.史密斯一样,这两人也都因为更广泛文化领域的动态而感到忧心忡忡。艾略特的《四个四重奏》(Four Quartets)在二战期间首次出版。因为战时一切从简,诗文的载体是粗纸小册子。艾略特在这套组诗当中思考了许多问题,从时间与记忆的本质到英语文学的优势。在笔者看来,组诗的第四首《小吉丁》(Little Gidding)——这首诗的创作一度曾被伦敦空袭打断——是艾略特笔下最杰出的作品。这首诗描写的是曾经迷住了乔治.赫伯特的北安普敦郡宗教社区。诗文当中既饱含宗教热情,也含有艾略特对于德军空袭做出的回应。此外这首诗还是一场精神之旅。眼看着英格兰到了最危险的时候,艾略特为这片土地献上了一曲赞歌:
If you came this way,
Taking the route you would be likely to take
From the place you would be likely to come from,
If you came this way in may time, you would find the hedges
White again, in May, with voluptuary sweetness.
It would be the same at the end of the journey,
If you came at night like a broken king,
If you came by day not knowing what you came for,
It would be the same, when you leave the rough road
And turn behind the pig-sty to the dull facade
And the tombstone. And what you thought you came for
Is only a shell, a husk of meaning
From which the purpose breaks only when it is fulfilled
If at all. Either you had no purpose
Or the purpose is beyond the end you figured
And is altered in fulfilment. There are other places
Which also are the world's end, some at the sea jaws,
Or over a dark lake, in a desert or a city--
But this is the nearest, in place and time,
Now and in England.
如果你到这里来,
选择你可能选择的路线
从你可能出那里来的地方来,
如果你在山楂花开的时候到这里来,
你会发现五月里,树篱又变白了,
飘散这迷人的甜香。
到旅程的终点都一样,
如果你像一位困顿的国王夤夜而来,
如果你白天来又不知道你为何而来,
那都一样,当你离开崎岖的小径
在猪栏后面拐向那阴暗的前庭和墓碑的时候。
你原先以为是你此行的目的
现在不过是意义的一层贝壳,一层荚
只要有什么目的能实现的话,目的才破壳而出。
或者是你原先根本没有目的
或者是目的在于你是想象的终点之外
而在实现的过程中已经改变。另有一些地方
也是世界的终点,有的在海的入口
或者在一片黑暗的湖上,在沙漠中
或者在一座城市里——
但是在地点和时间上,这里是最近的地方,
现在和在英格兰。
If you came this way,
Taking any route, starting from anywhere,
At any time or at any season,
It would always be the same: you would have to put off
Sense and notion. You are not here to verify,
Instruct yourself, or inform curiosity
Or carry report. You are here to kneel
Where prayer has been valid. And prayer is more
Than an order of words, the conscious occupation
Of the praying mind, or the sound of the voice praying.
And what the dead had no speech for, when living,
They can tell you, being dead: the communication
Of the dead is tongued with fire beyond the language of the living.
Here, the intersection of the timeless moment
Is England and nowhere. Never and always.
如果你到这里来,
不论走哪条路,从哪里出发,
在哪个地方或哪个季节,
那都是一样:你必须抛开
感觉和思想。你到这里来不是为了证明什么,
教诲自己,或者告诉什么新奇的事物
或者传送报告。你到这里来
是到祈祷一向是正当的地方来
俯首下跪。祈祷不只是
一种话语,祈祷者头脑的
清醒的活动,或者是祈求呼告的声音。
死者活着的时候,无法以言词表达的,
他们作为死者能告诉你:死者的交流思想
超乎生者的语言之外是用火表达的。
这里,无始无终的瞬间的交叉点是英格兰,
而不是任何其他地方。决不而且永远。【汤永宽译】
接下来艾略特转而采用了但丁描写地狱与炼狱的韵诗结构,直面了英伦空战的后果——尘土飞扬的断壁残垣。读者们要非常努力才能瞥见新生与重建的前景:
Ash on and old man's sleeve
Is all the ash the burnt roses leave.
Dust in the air suspended
Marks the place where a story ended.
Dust inbreathed was a house—
The walls, the wainscot and the mouse,
The death of hope and despair,
This is the death of air.
一个老人衣袖上的灰
是焚烧的玫瑰留下的全部尘灰。
尘灰悬在空中
标志着一个故事在这里告终。
你吸入的尘灰曾经是一座宅邸——
墙、护壁板和耗子。
希望和绝望都已经咽气,
风就这样死去。
There are flood and drouth
Over the eyes and in the mouth,
Dead water and dead sand
Contending for the upper hand.
The parched eviscerate soil
Gapes at the vanity of toil,
Laughs without mirth.
This is the death of earth.
在眼睛之上,在嘴里面
有洪水和干旱,
止水和死沙正在斗争
分不清谁占上风。
坼裂的失去元气的土地
张目结舌地望着劳动徒然无益,
放声大笑而没有欢笑。
土的死亡就这样来到。
Water and fire succeed
The town, the pasture and the weed.
Water and fire deride
The sacrifice that we denied.
Water and fire shall rot
The marred foundations we forgot,
Of sanctuary and choir.
This is the death of water and fire.
水和火取代
城镇、牧场和野草覆盖。
水和火嘲弄
我们拒绝奉献的牺牲。
水和火也必将腐蚀
我们遗忘的圣殿和唱诗席
两者的基础已经颓唐。
这就是水和火的死亡。【汤永宽译,有修改】
W.H.奥登当然从未经历过伦敦空袭,因为二战期间他一直住在纽约曼哈顿,直到五十年代才返回英国常住。尽管如此,就像史密斯与艾略特的经历一样,战争也促使奥登转向了宗教反思,并且于1941年加入了圣公会。他在这一时期的最伟大诗歌抓住了W.B.叶芝逝世的机会,反思了西方文明的崩溃,也挑战了诗歌在现代世界的立场。《悼叶芝》(In Memory of W. B. Yeats)并不是一首宽慰人心的诗歌,但是写得确实很好。下面选取了本诗开头两段:
I
He disappeared in the dead of winter:
The brooks were frozen, the airports almost deserted,
And snow disfigured the public statues;
The mercury sank in the mouth of the dying day.
What instruments we have agree
The day of his death was a dark cold day.
一:
他消逝于寒冬时节:
溪流封冻,机场迹近荒芜,
积雪模糊了露天雕像的身形;
水银柱沉入了弥留之际的口唇。。
呵,我们所有的仪表都同意
他死的那天寒冷而又阴暗。
Far from his illness
The wolves ran on through the evergreen forests,
The peasant river was untempted by the fashionable quays;
By mourning tongues
The death of the poet was kept from his poems.
远离了他的疾病,
狼群继续奔行在常绿的森林,
农夫之河不曾受时髦码头的引诱;
哀悼的文辞
把诗人的死同他的诗隔开。
But for him it was his last afternoon as himself,
An afternoon of nurses and rumours;
The provinces of his body revolted,
The squares of his mind were empty,
Silence invaded the suburbs,
The current of his feeling failed; he became his admirers.
但对于他,这是他身为他自己的最后一个下午,
一个被护士和谣言包围的下午;
他的躯体的各省都已叛变,
他意识的广场空空如也,
寂静侵入了郊区,
知觉的脉流已停歇;他汇入了他的景仰者。
Now he is scattered among a hundred cities
And wholly given over to unfamiliar affections,
To find his happiness in another kind of wood
And be punished under a foreign code of conscience.
The words of a dead man
Are modified in the guts of the living.
如今他被播散到一百个城市,
完全移交给陌生的爱意;
他要在另一种林中寻求快乐,
并且在迥异的良心法典下受惩处。
一个死者的言辞
将在活人的肺腑间被改写。
But in the importance and noise of to-morrow
When the brokers are roaring like beasts on the floor of the bourse,
And the poor have the sufferings to which they are fairly accustomed
And each in the cell of himself is almost convinced of his freedom
A few thousand will think of this day
As one thinks of a day when one did something slightly unusual.
但在来日的重大和喧嚣中,
当交易所的掮客像野兽一般咆哮,
当穷人对他们身受的种种苦难已习以为常
当每个身在自我牢狱中的人几乎确信他的自由,
有个千把人仍会想起这个日子,
仿佛他们在这天曾做过稍稍不寻常的事情。
What instruments we have agree
The day of his death was a dark cold day.
我们所有的仪表都同意,
他死的那天寒冷而又阴暗。
II
You were silly like us; your gift survived it all:
The parish of rich women, physical decay,
Yourself. Mad Ireland hurt you into poetry.
Now Ireland has her madness and her weather still,
For poetry makes nothing happen: it survives
In the valley of its making where executives
Would never want to tamper, flows on south
From ranches of isolation and the busy griefs,
Raw towns that we believe and die in; it survives,
A way of happening, a mouth.
二:
你像我们一样愚钝,你的天赋却超越了这一切:
贵妇人的教区,肉身的衰败,你自己。
疯狂的爱尔兰刺伤你投入诗艺。
而今爱尔兰的癫狂和天气依然如故,
因为诗无济于事:它永生于
自造的山谷里,官吏们
从未打算干预;它一路向南方流淌,
从那些隔绝、忙碌而哀伤的牧场,
从那些我们信赖并且死守的粗野之城,它存在着,
是现象的一种方式,是一个出口。【查良铮、马鸣谦、蔡海燕等译】
诗歌幸存了下来,但却被装进了胶囊,虽说依然身处社会之内,但却再也不是文明的鲜活组成部分了。对于战后一代的诗人们来说,这是一条非常悲观的信息。幸运的是,没几个人认同这一点。
尽管笔者并未花费太多笔墨来讨论二十世纪五十年代之前英国其他艺术领域——绘画、雕塑、建筑等等——的艺术家们,但是其他艺术门类与诗歌之间相互映射的关系却是显而易见。十八世纪的英国诗人偏向冷静与对话风格,与其对应的则是描绘多人互动的对话式绘画,以及荷加斯与其他漫画家们所代表的粗放作品。当时也有浪漫主义风景画,主要关注威尔士的群山、大湖区以及苏格兰高地的溪流;这一流派大致对应了浪漫主义诗歌及其兴趣所在。颓废派诗人与画家们的对应关系则更加紧密——例如惠斯勒与奥博利.比亚兹莱等人。甚至直到四十年代,例如迪兰.托马斯与大卫.加斯科因这样的浪漫主义与超现实主义诗人也依然能在画坛找到约翰.派珀、保罗.纳什以及斯坦利.斯潘塞这样的映像。至于大卫.琼斯则一边画画一边写诗。
但是自从二战之后,这种对应关系就似乎完全解体了。战后十几年是英国造型艺术空前活跃的时期,抽象表现主义与波普艺术先后传入英国。在钢筋混凝土这种新材料的助力下,英国建筑师们创造了这个国家前所未见的“新野蛮主义”建筑,线条冷峻洗练,既有住宅楼也有政府办公楼。但是像这样的突飞猛进在同时期的诗坛却几乎得不到体现。此时的英国诗歌依然十分传统,充满了“英格兰气质”,对于美国与欧洲同行们正在忙什么缺乏兴趣。例如抽象画这等规模的激烈技艺革新在诗坛并不存在。乍一看去,就好像现代社会的喧嚣与消费主义浪潮逼得英国诗人们全都退缩回到了宁静安详心态保守的小圈子里去了,就像奥登一直担心的那样。幸运的是,我们只要再深挖一点,就会发现实际的故事要更加复杂且有趣。
首先来看看英国的超现实主义,这场运动在绘画界要比在诗坛更加显著。大卫.加斯科因在三十年代的大部分时间里都居住在法国,结识了许多重要的法国与西班牙超现实主义艺术家。他是英国诗坛运动的领军人物——他与共产主义若即若离,战后再次回到法国定居。超现实主义植根于弗洛伊德理论,号称能揭露现代生活表层以下的真相。无论是当年还是现在,这都是一项严肃且值得投入的艺术项目。但是在诗歌领域,超现实主义很快就走上了邪路。以下节选的是加斯科因的《立方穹顶》(The Cubicle Domes)的开头——这首诗的剩余部分也好不到那里去:
Indeed indeed it is growing very sultry
The indian feather pots are scrambling out of the room
The slow voice of the tobacconist is like a circle
Drawn on the floor in chalk and containing ants
And indeed there is a shoe upon the table
And indeed it is as regular as clockwork
Demonstrating the variability of the weather
Or denying the existence of manu altogether
For after all why should love resemble a cushion
Why should the stumbling-block float up towards the ceiling
And in our attic it is always said
That this is a sombre country the wettest place on earth
And then there is the problem of living to be considered
With its vast pink parachutes full of underdone mutton
Its tableaux of the archbishops dressed in their underwear
Have you ever paused to consider why grass is green
确实确实它正在变得十分闷热
印度羽毛壶正在往屋外爬去
烟草家的缓慢声音能好似圆环
用粉笔画在地板上将蚂蚁圈在里面
桌子上放着一只鞋
确实它就像钟表一样规律
表现着天气的多变
或者否定了摩奴的存在
毕竟爱为什么要像软垫
绊脚石为什么要向天花板飘去
在我们的阁楼里经常这么说
这是一个阴森的国家地球上最潮湿的地方
然后还要考虑生活的问题
巨大的粉色降落伞布满了半生不熟的羊肉
它的舞台群像由身穿内衣裤的大主教们构成
你可曾停下来想想草为何是绿色
读到这里,读者们大概会脱口而出:“不用再往下念了,大卫。”宽泛说来,这正是五十年代运动派诗歌着力反对的风气。再也没有花里胡哨的迪兰.托马斯式情不自禁,身穿内衣的大主教数量也少了很多。借用小说家戴维.洛奇的话来说,在1955-1956年达到巅峰的运动派诗歌的主要敌人就是“似是而非的辞藻,形而上学的虚饰,以及浪漫主义的狂想”。只要读一下四十年代的英国超现实主义诗歌,读者们就很难不对这种做法感同身受。
伊丽莎白.詹宁斯生在林肯郡,不过毕生大部分时间都住在牛津。她是一位虔诚的罗马天主教徒,一辈子都受到间歇性精神疾病的困扰。她的诗歌风格传统,思想坚韧,文笔疏落,这三条都是运动派诗歌看重的品质。下面这首短诗《回答》(Answers)几乎可以当成一篇宣言——或者反宣言——来读:
I keep my answers small and keep them near;
Big questions bruised my mind but still I let
Small answers be a bulwark to my fear.
我的回答小而切题;
大问题削弱我的意志,但我仍然
用小回答抵抗惧意。
The huge abstractions I keep from the light;
Small things I handled and caressed and loved.
I let the stars assume the whole of night.
我拒绝光,巨大的抽象;
我处理、抚摸并热爱着小事物。
我让群星照看整个晚上。
But the big answers clamoured to be moved
Into my life. Their great audacity
Shouted to be acknowledged and believed.
但是大回答叫嚣着试图闯进
我的生活,它们厚颜无耻,
高喊着要被接受,被相信。
Even when all small answers build up to
Protection of my spirit, I still hear
Big answers striving for their overthrow
即便所有的小回答被确立,
以保护我的灵魂,我仍然听见
大回答妄想将它们打倒在地。
And all the great conclusions coming near.
而伟大的结局正在降临。【参考了倪志娟的译文】
法西斯主义提供的大回答不久前刚刚震撼了世界,伟大得十分危险的马克思主义结论至今仍然令全世界感到动摇,因此英国诗人想要撤回小确幸的私密世界里也是可以理解的。这首诗体现了战后英国身陷重围的感受。詹宁斯是一位通晓社会风气的诗人,也很清楚这样的自我设限在年轻一代人眼中多么的老套胆怯。下面这首《年轻人》(The Young Ones)的题材是一个新兴的社会现象,时人称其为“代沟”:
They slip on to the bus, hair piled up high.
New styles each month, it seems to me. I look,
Not wanting to be seen, casting an eye
Above the unread pages of a book.
她们偷偷地溜上了公交车,头发梳得很高,
我觉得她们每月都将新发型变换。
我打量她们,但不想让她们知道我在偷瞧,
于是手捧书本作掩护,书页却无心观看。
They are fifteen or so. When I was thus,
I huddled in school coats, my satchel hung
Lop-sided on my shoulder. Without fuss
These enter adolescence; being young
她们看着也就十四五岁。我像她们这么大
的时候,好几层校服在身上套着,
单肩书包在身旁当啷斜挎。
她们进入青春期的姿态多么利落;
Seems good to them, a state we cannot reach,
No talk of ‘awkward ages’ now. I see
How childish gazes staring out of each
Unfinished face prove me incredibly
青春待她们真不错,我们则再也回不去,
如今我们再也不说什么“尴尬的年龄”。
她们相互凝视的眼神多么孩子气,
尚未长开的面庞反衬得我老土得不行。
Old-fashioned. Yet at least I have the chance
To size up several stages – young yet old,
Doing the twist, mocking an ‘old-time’ dance:
So many ways to be unsure or bold.
但是起码我现在有机会纵向比较
人生的不同阶段——还算年轻,但是比她们年老。
我可以聊发少年狂,模仿“老年月”的姿势把舞跳,
大胆与动摇的方式我如今都知道不少。
罗伯特.康凯斯特是一位英美混血的史学家,他的主要学术成就是批判斯大林主义及其西方辩护士们。他是詹宁斯的朋友,也是运动派诗歌的领军人物之一。下面这首无题诗创作于五十年代,题材是制导导弹,尽管诗文当中很缺乏当时反核武运动当中常见的政治道德说教:
Soft sounds and odours brim up through the night
A wealth below the level of the eye;
Out of a black, an almost violet sky
Abundance flowers into points of light.
柔和的声响与气味在夜晚弥漫
一笔位于视线之下的财富;
绽放在近乎紫罗兰色的黑暗夜幕
丰盈的花朵化作了点点光线。
Till from the south-west, as their low scream mars
And halts this warm hypnosis of the dark,
Three black automata cut swift and stark,
Shaped clearly by the backward flow of stars.
它们的低沉尖啸,来自西南方向,
暂停了黑暗夜色的温暖催眠,
三台黑色自动机械飞驰而去毫不流连,
逆行的星流勾勒出了清晰的形状。
Stronger than lives, by empty purpose blinded,
The only thought their circuits can endure is
The target-hunting rigour of their fight;
比生命更强大,被空洞的目的所蒙蔽,
它们的电路当中仅能忍受一个念头
就是坚定地朝向猎杀目标飞去。
And by that loveless haste I am reminded
Of Aeschylus' description of the Furies:
'O barren daughters of the fruitful night'
这无爱的奔忙让我想起
埃斯库罗斯笔下的复仇女神:
“果实累累的黑夜的女儿们却不孕不育”
康凯斯特不仅仅反对战后英国社会的社会主义思潮以及该思潮粉饰共产主义的倾向,而是反对诗歌当中的一切极端主义与矫揉造作。下面这首文笔机智的《诗歌认识论》(Epistemology of Poetry)说得很清楚:
Across the long-curved bight or bay
The waves move clear beneath the day
And, rolling in obliquely, each
Unwinds its white torque up the beach.
越过漫长而弯曲的海湾
海浪行迹清晰隐藏在白天
浪头滚滚向前,模糊了形状,
将雪白的力矩展开在沙滩上。
Beneath the full semantic sun
The twisting currents race and run.
Words and evaluations start.
And yet the verse should play its part.
沐浴着圆满的语义艳阳
一道道扭曲的海流飞驰奔忙。
词汇与评价就这样开始。
诗句应当安置到恰当的位置。
Below a certain threshold light
Is insufficient to excite
Those mechanisms which the eye
Constructs its daytime objects by:
低于特定阈值,光照也无用
因为亮度并不足以发动
眼睛产生视觉的机理
无法构建白日之下的物体:
A different system wakes behind
The dark, wide pupils till the mind
Accepts an image of this sea
As clear, but in an altered key.
一套不同的体系苏醒在后方
一对黑暗的瞳孔悄然扩张,
接受了这片大海的图像
依然清晰,色调却不再一样。
Now darkness falls And poems attempt
Light reconciling done and dreamt.
I do not find it in the rash
Disruption of the lightning flash.
黑暗降临,诗歌企图
光明妥协后撤,梦境一片模糊
我并非在匆忙中将其发现
突然的打断如同一道闪电。
Those vivid rigours stun the verse
And neural structure still prefers
The moon beneath whose moderate light
The great seas glitter in the bight.
鲜活的严律震撼了诗行
中立的结构依然偏好月亮
温和的月光充盈了天地
海湾里的海面波光熠熠。
这就是精神警醒且严格自我控制的人们做出的回复,与五十年代末期的英国风气很相宜。当时英国人已经背弃了1945年上台的艾德礼工党政府推行的激进社会主义。英国的国力或许正在衰颓,但是大多数英国人尚且感受不到这一点。英国本质上依然是一个军事化国家,义务兵役制从1947年施行到了1963年,期间共有两百多万英国人参军入伍。大英帝国总体而言尚未解体,军事与商业依然是英国的国本。几乎所有英国人都敬爱王室,而澳大利亚、新西兰与南非之类的前殖民地则被视为英国的加利福尼亚州,是英国人旅游度假的首选地点。1953年伊丽莎白二世女王加冕礼之后,许多人都在谈论第二个维多利亚时代的到来。与此同时,英国文化的沉闷特质——社会等级、清教主义、物资配给制度以及缺乏欢乐的氛围——也越发让人们感到不耐烦。
金斯利.艾米斯是一名小说家兼诗人、右翼论辩家、爵士乐爱好者以及职业唬人家。他也是这一时期的产物。他与大学时代的密友菲利普.拉金一样都是运动派诗人当中的主要人物,而且说句实话,他们俩也是运动派诗歌至今还没被忘记的原因。艾米斯的诗文具有某种粗糙野蛮的特质,他笔下最杰出的诗作总是充满了懊丧青年们极具穿透力的怒火。五十年代末期,英国药品市场上出现了一种名为沙利度胺的抗晨吐药品。接下来几年里,医生们发现天生缺陷的英国新生儿——尤其是生来缺少上肢与下肢的孩子们——数量显著增长。接下来英国社会发起了一场针对药品生产厂商的漫长法律与政治攻势,艾米斯因此创作了《致一位生来没有四肢的孩子》(To A Baby Born Without Limbs)。这首诗很到位地体现了他的创作风格:
This is just to show you whose boss around here.
It’ll keep you on your toes, so to speak,
Make you put your best foot forward, so to speak,
And give you something to turn your hand to, so to speak.
You can face up to it like a man,
Or snivvle and blubber like a baby.
That’s up to you. Nothing to do with Me.
If you take it in the right spirit,
You can have a bloody marvelous life,
With the great rewards courage brings,
And the beauty of accepting your LOT.
And think how much good it’ll do your Mum and Dad,
And your Grans and Gramps and the rest of the shower,
To be stopped being complacent.
Make sure they baptise you, though,
In case some murdering bastard
Decides to put you away quick,
Which would send you straight to LIMB-O, ha ha ha.
But just a word in your ear, if you’ve got one.
Mind you DO take this in the right spirit,
And keep a civil tongue in your head about Me.
Because if you DON’T,
I’ve got plenty of other stuff up My sleeve,
Such as Leukemia and polio,
(Which incidentally your welcome to any time,
Whatever spirit you take this in.)
I’ve given you one love-pat, right?
You don’t want another.
So watch it, Jack.
这就是要你知道知道这里谁是老大。
这能让你步步惊心——打个比方,
让你知道路在脚下——打个比方,
让你体会自己动手丰衣——打个比方。
你可以像个男子汉那样面对逆境
也可以像婴儿那样蠕动挣扎。
都取决于你,跟我没关系。
如果你用正确的精神来面对
你将会拥有极其精彩的一生,
享受勇气带来的丰厚回报
以及无怨无尤接受命运的美丽。
想想这能给你妈你爹带来多少好处,
还有爷爷奶奶姥姥姥爷,加上喝满月酒的全体宾客,
现在他们再也不会理所当然地生活。
但是一定要保证他们给你施洗,
因为有些杀人成性的混蛋
兴许会决定直接结果了你,
把你当即打发进阴阳界,哈哈哈。
还有一句话,出我之口入你之耳,如果你还有耳朵的话:
我提醒你,要以正确的精神接受你的状况,
你的脑子里想到我时措辞要文明礼貌。
因为假如你不这样
我兜里还有一堆好东西等着招待你,
例如白血病与小儿麻痹症。
(顺便一提,这两样随时欢迎你亲身体验一把
无论你接受当前状况的精神是否正确)
我这番鼓励你很喜欢,是吧?
再鼓励一下你就受不了了。
所以小心点,杰克。
英国的传统上层阶级此时已经日薄西山脚步踉跄了,但是日常态度依然简慢冷淡,张口闭口“此乃天经地义”。艾米斯的这首诗毫不留情地讽刺了他们的态度。