萧开愚诗一首《北 站》
[2015-5-29 8:01:20]
萧开愚诗一首《北 站》
我感到我是一群人。
在老北站的天桥上,我身体里
有人开始争吵和议论,七嘴八舌。
我抽着烟,打量着火车站的废墟,
我想叫喊,嗓子里火辣辣的。
我感到我是一群人。
走在废弃的铁道上,踢着铁轨的卷锈,
哦,身体里拥挤不堪,好像有人上车,
有人下车,一辆火车迎面开来,
另一辆从我的身体里呼啸而出。
我感到我是一群人。
我走进一个空旷的房间,翻过一排栏杆,
在昔日的剪票口,突然,我的身体里
空荡荡的。哦,这个候车厅里没有旅客了,
站着和坐着的都是模糊的影子。
我感到我是一群人。
在附近的弄堂里,在烟摊上,在公用电话旁,
他们像汗珠一样出来。他们蹲着,跳着,
堵在我的前面。他们戴着手表,穿着花格衬衣,
提着沉甸甸的箱子象是拿着气球。
我感到我是一群人。
在面店吃面的时候他们就在我的面前
围桌而坐。他们尖脸和方脸,哈哈大笑,
他们有一点儿会计的
假正经。但是我饿极了。他们哼着旧电影的插曲,
跨入我的碗里。
我感到我是一群人。
但是他们聚成了一堆恐惧。我上公交车,
车就摇晃。进一个酒吧,里面停电。我只好步行
去虹口,外滩,广场,绕道回家。
我感到我的脚里有另外一双脚。
THE NORTHERN STATION
I feel I’m a crowd of people.
On the overpass at the old Northern Station, in my body
some people start to discuss and argue, a cacophony.
I’m smoking, considering the ruins of a train station,
I want to shout, there’s a burning in my throat.
I feel I’m a crowd of people.
Walking on an abandoned track, kicking the curling rust of ties,
O, it’s unbearably crowded inside me, as if some people are getting on a train,
some off. A train is coming toward me,
another goes whistling out of my body.
I feel I’m a crowd of people.
I walk into a spacious room, pass over a railing,
at the ticket-check of bygone days, suddenly, within me
a void. O, in this waiting room there are no travelers,
what’s standing or seated is all dim shadow.
I feel I’m a crowd of people.
In a nearby alley, at a cigarette stall, beside a phone box,
they come out like pearls of sweat. They squat, jump,
block things up in front of me. They wear watches, brocade shirts,
carry weighty trunks as if they’re balloons.
I feel I’m a crowd of people,
While eating noodles in a noodle shop they are before me
sitting around the table. Their angular or square faces, laughing loudly,
they have a bit of an accountant’s false respectability.
But I’m extremely hungry. Hummering an old movie tune,
they step into my bowl.
I feel I’m a crowd of people.
But they’ve gathered into a heap of fears. I get on a public bus,
the bus rocks. Enter a bar, the power goes out. So I must walk
to Hongkou, the Bund, the square, go home in a round about way.
I sense there’s another pair of feet in mine.
(Tr. by Michael M. Day)
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