试听90秒抖森读诗 | Diving into the Wreck - Adrienne Rich

【导语】

The following poem is by one of America’s most influential poets and feminists of the late 20th century. Written like an extended metaphor - it is probing, dynamic and engaging. 
 
下面这首诗来自20世纪后期的女性主义者、美国最有影响力的诗人之一艾德里安·里奇（Adrienne Rich）。这首诗写得像一个巨大的隐喻——它是试探性，多变和迷人的。

【诗歌原文】

Diving into the Wreck
by Adrienne Rich 

潜入沉船
艾德里安·里奇
 
First having read the book of myths,
and loaded the camera,
and checked the edge of the knife-blade,
I put on
the body-armor of black rubber
the absurd flippers
the grave and awkward mask.
I am having to do this
not like Cousteau with his
assiduous team
aboard the sun-flooded schooner
but here alone.
 
There is a ladder.
The ladder is always there
hanging innocently
close to the side of the schooner.
We know what it is for,
we who have used it.
Otherwise
it is a piece of maritime floss
some sundry equipment.
 
I go down.
Rung after rung and still
the oxygen immerses me
the blue light
the clear atoms
of our human air.
I go down.
My flippers cripple me,
I crawl like an insect down the ladder
and there is no one
to tell me when the ocean
will begin.
 
First the air is blue and then
it is bluer and then green and then
black I am blacking out and yet
my mask is powerful
it pumps my blood with power
the sea is another story
the sea is not a question of power
I have to learn alone
to turn my body without force
in the deep element.
 
And now: it is easy to forget
what I came for
among so many who have always
lived here
swaying their crenellated fans
between the reefs
and besides
you breathe differently down here.
 
I came to explore the wreck.
The words are purposes.
The words are maps.
I came to see the damage that was done
and the treasures that prevail.
I stroke the beam of my lamp
slowly along the flank
of something more permanent
than fish or weed
 
the thing I came for:
the wreck and not the story of the wreck
the thing itself and not the myth
the drowned face always staring
toward the sun
the evidence of damage
worn by salt and sway into this threadbare beauty
the ribs of the disaster
curving their assertion
among the tentative haunters.
 
This is the place.
And I am here, the mermaid whose dark hair
streams black, the merman in his armored body.
We circle silently
about the wreck
we dive into the hold.
I am she: I am he
 
whose drowned face sleeps with open eyes
whose breasts still bear the stress
whose silver, copper, vermeil cargo lies
obscurely inside barrels
half-wedged and left to rot
we are the half-destroyed instruments
that once held to a course
the water-eaten log
the fouled compass
 
We are, I am, you are
by cowardice or courage
the one who find our way
back to this scene
carrying a knife, a camera
a book of myths
in which
our names do not appear.

【诗歌译文】
 
读完了那本神话书，
带上照相机，
检查完刀锋，
我穿上
黑色塑胶潜水衣
可笑的脚蹼
和严肃、笨拙的潜水面具。
我不得不做这些
不像潜水家库斯托
有他勤勉的团队
登上阳光洒落的帆船
可这里只有我一人。
 
这有一个梯子。
这副梯子一直在那
天真的挂在
帆船的侧面。
我们知道它的作用，
我们曾使用过它。
要不然
它就是船上的一件杂物和设备。
 
我向下走着。
一级又一级
氧气浸没我
蓝色的光
清晰的微粒
是我们人类的空气。
我继续向下走。
我的脚蹼让我步履蹒跚， 
我像只虫子一样爬下阶梯
没有人
告诉我什么时候
到海里。
 
一开始，空气是蓝的，
然后变得更蓝，接着变成绿色，最后
变得漆黑，我开始昏昏欲睡，还好
我的潜水面罩很强大
它给我的血液注入了力量
海是另外一个故事了，
在海中不是关于力量的问题
我需要自主学习
不靠蛮力转动身体
在这深深的海底。
 
现在：很容易忘记，
我们为何而来
尤其在海底众多的原住民中间
它们摇动着锯齿型的风扇
在暗礁之间
而且在海底
你呼吸的方式与众不同。
 
我来探索这沉船。
这些话是意图，是我要做的。
这些词是地图，是我要去的。
我来看过去已成定局的毁坏，
还有那些金银珠宝。
我缓慢划动我照射灯的光线
沿着那比鱼或海草
存在得更久的事物的侧面
 
我寻求的东西：
是沉船，而不是沉船的故事
是事物本身，而不是神话
溺死的人脸总是凝视着
太阳的方向
毁灭的残骸
被盐分侵蚀
摇曳着腐旧的美好
灾难的肋骨
在试探性的游走中
折弯了他们的坚持。
 
就是这个地方。
我来到这里，雌美人鱼的深色头发如黑色水流
雄美人鱼则身披盔甲
我们静默地环绕在
沉船的附近
我们潜入船舱。
我就是她，我也是他。
 
睁着眼睛沉睡的，是谁溺死的脸庞
仍然承受着压力的，是谁的胸膛
是谁的银器、铜器、镀金的货物
隐密的躺在桶里
半裂开的货物，只剩下腐烂
我们都是半损坏的器具
曾在航海中使用
被海水吞噬的航海日志
腐烂的罗盘
 
我们是、我是、你是
怯懦或勇敢
就是那个找到我们路的人
回到了这里
带着一把刀，一个照相机
一本写满神话的书
在书里
并没有我们的名字。