-初笙-

[授權翻譯] 30 Days of Skam Fic - Day 4

原作者:milominderbinder

 

原文链接:http://archiveofourown.org/series/738348


译者:Z_z_萌_

 

关键词:leaves

 

Day 4: the wholeuniverse is a procession

 

————————————————————

 

[ 来自: even ]

我歌颂肉体的电流

 

[来自: even ]

若这世间有何物是神圣的,那一定非人类的躯体莫属

而人类的光辉与甘甜,则是他圣洁的象征

 

[ 来自: even ]

无论男女,一具纯洁而充满力量的躯体,胜过世间最美的脸庞

 

Isak看着自己的手机屏幕,眨了眨眼睛。他们已经在一起快一年了,而且其中一大半的时光他们都住在一起,所以他们真的非常了解对方,所以现在,Isak已经不会再为Even突如其来地发来一些奇怪的歌词而感到惊讶了。事实上,这还挺可爱的。

 

Isak并没有像一开始那几次一样感到疑惑,因为他已经明白,每当Even听到一首歌或别的什么东西而想到自己的时候,都会立刻将这些东西发给自己,即使这些文字之间毫无关联。不管怎么说,这都说明了Even在想着自己,而对Isak来说,还有什么能比这更令人高兴的吗?

 

不过今天这些歌词看起来确实有些太过天马行空。此刻Isak正在Eskild的公寓外拿着扫把绝望地做着清扫,因为今天是社会服务日。他其实还没到休息时间,但是那个一直看着他催他干活的清洁人员已经去角落里抽烟了,所以Isak决定也休息一会儿,躲到了树后开始给Even回短信。

 

[ 发送给: even ]

亲爱的,咱们才刚刚分开了两个小时,你不需要这么快就开始对我唱这些别离的歌

 

[ 发送给: even] 

对了,这是什么歌?

 

他几乎马上就收到了Even的新短信,毕竟他现在已经毕业了,不需要像Isak一样参与社会服务日,所以他就可以无所事事地呆在家里,不停地给Isak发短信。

 

[ 来自: even ]

哈哈,今天这可不是什么歌!这是一首诗,WaltWhitman的,你一定会喜欢他的!

 

[ 来自: even ]

这一切都是一首赞歌,整个宇宙都是一首赞歌,随着生命而律动的赞歌。

 

[ 来自: even ]

你真的应该读一读草叶集,我可以借给你的,咱们床底下那一箱子书里就有一本。

 

好吧,这倒是个新鲜事儿了。他们小公寓里的大部分书都是Isak的,不过他读的都是一些非虚构文学啦、科学啦、甚至历史类的书。倒不是说Even没有书,但Isak还真的没在家里看到过什么诗集。大概他得找个时间好好看看Even口中那个床底下的箱子,说不定还有什么别的新奇事物呢。

 

[ 发送给: even ]

我还不知道你喜欢读诗呢?

 

[ 来自: even] 

说不定我就是故意不让你知道的呢?毕竟咱们现在都住在一起了,我总要想办法保持我神秘的魅力吧,不然我怎么能像这样出其不意地给你发几句诗句,让你惊喜一下呢?

 

[ 发送给: even ]

哈哈哈

 

[ 发送给: even] 

你真是个怪人

 

[ 来自: even ]

可你就爱怪人

 

[ 发送给: even ]

 

好吧,Isak就是没法否认他爱Even,爱他一切怪异的小癖好,爱他的所有。回想起他们刚刚在一起的时候,那段时间Even的躁期刚结束,而Isak惊觉他所有可爱而独一无二的闪光点其实都是在他的躁期形成的,他所作出的每一个看似冲动的决定,他开的每一个蹩脚的玩笑,这一切的一切都不是真的,都只是因为他的躁郁症。那时的Isak甚至以为自己是爱上了一个根本就不存在的人格。

 

但值得庆幸的是,他很快就发现这不是真的,Even本人其实就是这样,古怪而可爱,无关乎他的躁郁症,而他古怪的性格只是让Isak越来越爱。他喜欢Even的那些超现实卡通速写,喜欢他做的那些颇具实验性的菜肴,甚至喜欢他凌晨三点突然想要去散步的主意,喜欢他在两个人都失眠的时候一起用毯子建堡垒的点子,也喜欢他在自己出门了的几个小时之内就给家里的所有家具都画上了画的创意。

 

而现在,看起来他又要多一条喜欢Even的理由了,Even爱看那些用英文写的古怪的诗篇,而且很显然他还保留了很多小秘密,等余生给Isak一个又一个惊喜。

 

[ 来自: even ]

所以,你的社会服务日过得怎么样?你那懒惰的小身体开始对那些活儿过敏了吗?

 

Isak嘲笑地把自己的帽檐从脑袋后面转到了前面,然后将身子靠在了树上,开始给Even回消息。

 

[ 发送给: even ]

这太没礼貌了!而且说真的,你也不应该再说我个子小了,我们现在应该都差不多高了!

 

[ 来自: even ]

不过,貌似你没有否认“懒惰”这个形容词啊;P

 

有时候Even真的跟Eskild一样讨厌地一针见血,Isak严重怀疑他们两个背着自己互通有无,而且一定是Eskild把Even变成这样的,他简直就是腐化了他!大概Isak人生中最大的错误就是介绍这两个人互相认识了。

 

[ 发送给: even ]

我拒绝讨论这一点,你知道我从来不跟对我怀恨在心的人浪费时间

 

[ 来自: even ]

我可没有怀恨在心,只是在对我美丽的男朋友这种懒得不能再懒的能力表示由衷的敬佩!而且别以为我没注意到,你才刚刚出去两个小时,就已经有时间给我发短信了;P

 

[ 发送给: even ]

是你先给我发短信的!!

 

[ 发送给: even ]

而且管我的那个清洁人员抽烟去了,所以我也可以休息一下

 

[ 发送给: even ]

不过我的工作还是挺顺利的。你刚刚还提到了什么草和叶子,真讽刺,我今天一天的工作就是扫这满大街的落叶。

 

[ 来自: even ]

不是草和叶子,是草叶集,英文是leavesof grass,而不是leaves and grass,宝贝儿

 

Isak皱了皱眉,Even的短信有时候确实会有些让人不解,但是他刚刚提到的这个短语甚至在文法上都说不通,这一点Isak确信无疑,毕竟他之前的几个小时都在跟叶子搏斗呢。

 

[ 发送给: even ]

哈?这样说不通啊,叶子就是叶子,怎么会是leavesof grass呢?

 

[ 来自: even ]

哈哈哈,别纠结这个啦,我的小现实主义者

 

[ 发送给: even ]

更正:不是“小”,而是“差不多跟你一样高的”现实主义者

 

Isak眼角的余光看到那个清洁人员回来了,呃,看来又要开始工作了——也许Even和Eskild总说他懒也是有道理的,毕竟他此时此刻完全不想去干活儿,只想躲在这树下跟他的男朋友发上一整天的短信。

 

[ 来自: even ]

不管是什么样的,归根结底都是我的

 

Isak翻了个白眼,但手上却还是不由自主地发了个爱心过去。好吧,他妥协地把手机塞进了口袋,然后拿起扫把准备继续打扫。

 

他当然还是属于Even的。

 

————————————————————

 

译者注1:本章中提到的社会服务日就是原文中的OD day,在挪威语中是Operasjon Dagsverk。据维基百科解释,这是一个高中生慈善活动,要求高中生离开学校,进行一整天的社会服务,当日的收入会全数捐给背后的慈善机构。这个活动在欧洲很多国家如瑞典、丹麦、意大利等都有举行,也在当地社会引起了一些关于其利弊的讨论。

 

译者注2:《草叶集》是美国诗人WaltWhitman的诗集,是诗人用一生时间完成的一部作品集。Whitman被称为是美国诗歌的开创者,他摆脱了自殖民时期以来欧洲诗歌对美国诗歌文学创作的影响和桎梏,开创了形式更加自由、内容更接地气的美式诗歌。人们对于他的作品褒贬不一,但是我仍然推荐大家去读上一两首。他的诗歌没有了欧洲诗歌的那种细腻和雕琢之感,更多的是一种大气的生命之美,读起来有一种力量感。本章中Even引用的几句诗我在网上没有找到非常理想的翻译,索性自己直接翻译了,但是感觉还是没有办法传达出原文的那种蓬勃之美,这里附上原诗给大家欣赏。

 

 

 

I Singthe Body Electric Related Poem Content Details

BY WALT WHITMAN

1

I sing the body electric, 

The armies of those I loveengirth me and I engirth them, 

They will not let me off till Igo with them, respond to them, 

And discorrupt them, and chargethem full with the charge of the soul. 

 

Was it doubted that those whocorrupt their own bodies conceal themselves? 

And if those who defile theliving are as bad as they who defile the dead? 

And if the body does not dofully as much as the soul? 

And if the body were not thesoul, what is the soul? 

 

2

The love of the body of man orwoman balks account, the body itself balks account, 

That of the male is perfect,and that of the female is perfect. 

 

The expression of the facebalks account, 

But the expression of awell-made man appears not only in his face, 

It is in his limbs and jointsalso, it is curiously in the joints of his hips and wrists, 

It is in his walk, the carriageof his neck, the flex of his waist and knees, dress does not hide him, 

The strong sweet quality he hasstrikes through the cotton and broadcloth, 

To see him pass conveys as muchas the best poem, perhaps more, 

You linger to see his back, andthe back of his neck and shoulder-side. 

 

The sprawl and fulness ofbabes, the bosoms and heads of women, the folds of their dress, their style aswe pass in the street, the contour of their shape downwards, 

The swimmer naked in theswimming-bath, seen as he swims through the transparent green-shine, or lieswith his face up and rolls silently to and fro in the heave of the water, 

The bending forward andbackward of rowers in row-boats, the horseman in his saddle, 

Girls, mothers, house-keepers,in all their performances, 

The group of laborers seated atnoon-time with their open dinner-kettles, and their wives waiting, 

The female soothing a child,the farmer’s daughter in the garden or cow-yard, 

The young fellow hoeing corn,the sleigh-driver driving his six horses through the crowd, 

The wrestle of wrestlers, twoapprentice-boys, quite grown, lusty, good-natured, native-born, out on thevacant lot at sun-down after work, 

The coats and caps thrown down,the embrace of love and resistance, 

The upper-hold and under-hold,the hair rumpled over and blinding the eyes; 

The march of firemen in theirown costumes, the play of masculine muscle through clean-setting trowsers andwaist-straps, 

The slow return from the fire,the pause when the bell strikes suddenly again, and the listening on the alert,

The natural, perfect, variedattitudes, the bent head, the curv’d neck and the counting; 

Such-like I love—I loosenmyself, pass freely, am at the mother’s breast with the little child, 

Swim with the swimmers, wrestlewith wrestlers, march in line with the firemen, and pause, listen, count. 

 

3

I knew a man, a common farmer,the father of five sons, 

And in them the fathers ofsons, and in them the fathers of sons. 

 

This man was of wonderfulvigor, calmness, beauty of person, 

The shape of his head, the paleyellow and white of his hair and beard, the immeasurable meaning of his blackeyes, the richness and breadth of his manners, 

These I used to go and visithim to see, he was wise also, 

He was six feet tall, he wasover eighty years old, his sons were massive, clean, bearded, tan-faced,handsome, 

They and his daughters lovedhim, all who saw him loved him, 

They did not love him byallowance, they loved him with personal love, 

He drank water only, the bloodshow’d like scarlet through the clear-brown skin of his face, 

He was a frequent gunner andfisher, he sail’d his boat himself, he had a fine one presented to him by aship-joiner, he had fowling-pieces presented to him by men that loved him, 

When he went with his five sonsand many grand-sons to hunt or fish, you would pick him out as the mostbeautiful and vigorous of the gang, 

You would wish long and long tobe with him, you would wish to sit by him in the boat that you and he mighttouch each other. 

 

4

I have perceiv’d that to bewith those I like is enough, 

To stop in company with therest at evening is enough, 

To be surrounded by beautiful,curious, breathing, laughing flesh is enough, 

To pass among them or touch anyone, or rest my arm ever so lightly round his or her neck for a moment, what isthis then? 

I do not ask any more delight,I swim in it as in a sea. 

 

There is something in stayingclose to men and women and looking on them, and in the contact and odor ofthem, that pleases the soul well, 

All things please the soul, butthese please the soul well. 

 

5

This is the female form, 

A divine nimbus exhales from itfrom head to foot, 

It attracts with fierceundeniable attraction, 

I am drawn by its breath as ifI were no more than a helpless vapor, all falls aside but myself and it, 

Books, art, religion, time, thevisible and solid earth, and what was expected of heaven or fear’d of hell, arenow consumed, 

Mad filaments, ungovernableshoots play out of it, the response likewise ungovernable, 

Hair, bosom, hips, bend oflegs, negligent falling hands all diffused, mine too diffused, 

Ebb stung by the flow and flowstung by the ebb, love-flesh swelling and deliciously aching, 

Limitless limpid jets of lovehot and enormous, quivering jelly of love, white-blow and delirious juice, 

Bridegroom night of loveworking surely and softly into the prostrate dawn, 

Undulating into the willing andyielding day, 

Lost in the cleave of theclasping and sweet-flesh’d day. 

 

This the nucleus—after thechild is born of woman, man is born of woman, 

This the bath of birth, thisthe merge of small and large, and the outlet again. 

 

Be not ashamed women, yourprivilege encloses the rest, and is the exit of the rest, 

You are the gates of the body,and you are the gates of the soul. 

 

The female contains allqualities and tempers them, 

She is in her place and moveswith perfect balance, 

She is all things duly veil’d,she is both passive and active, 

She is to conceive daughters aswell as sons, and sons as well as daughters. 

 

As I see my soul reflected inNature, 

As I see through a mist, Onewith inexpressible completeness, sanity, beauty, 

See the bent head and armsfolded over the breast, the Female I see. 

 

6

The male is not less the soulnor more, he too is in his place, 

He too is all qualities, he isaction and power, 

The flush of the known universeis in him, 

Scorn becomes him well, andappetite and defiance become him well, 

The wildest largest passions,bliss that is utmost, sorrow that is utmost become him well, pride is for him, 

The full-spread pride of man iscalming and excellent to the soul, 

Knowledge becomes him, he likesit always, he brings every thing to the test of himself, 

Whatever the survey, whateverthe sea and the sail he strikes soundings at last only here, 

(Where else does he strike soundingsexcept here?) 

 

The man’s body is sacred andthe woman’s body is sacred, 

No matter who it is, it issacred—is it the meanest one in the laborers’ gang? 

Is it one of the dull-facedimmigrants just landed on the wharf? 

Each belongs here or anywherejust as much as the well-off, just as much as you, 

Each has his or her place inthe procession. 

 

(All is a procession, 

The universe is a processionwith measured and perfect motion.) 

 

Do you know so much yourselfthat you call the meanest ignorant? 

Do you suppose you have a rightto a good sight, and he or she has no right to a sight? 

Do you think matter has coheredtogether from its diffuse float, and the soil is on the surface, and water runsand vegetation sprouts, 

For you only, and not for himand her? 

 

7

A man’s body at auction, 

(For before the war I often goto the slave-mart and watch the sale,) 

I help the auctioneer, thesloven does not half know his business. 

 

Gentlemen look on this wonder, 

Whatever the bids of thebidders they cannot be high enough for it, 

For it the globe lay preparingquintillions of years without one animal or plant, 

For it the revolving cyclestruly and steadily roll’d. 

 

In this head the all-bafflingbrain, 

In it and below it the makingsof heroes. 

 

Examine these limbs, red,black, or white, they are cunning in tendon and nerve, 

They shall be stript that youmay see them. 

 

Exquisite senses, life-liteyes, pluck, volition, 

Flakes of breast-muscle, pliantbackbone and neck, flesh not flabby, good-sized arms and legs, 

And wonders within there yet. 

 

Within there runs blood, 

The same old blood! the samered-running blood! 

There swells and jets a heart,there all passions, desires, reachings, aspirations, 

(Do you think they are notthere because they are not express’d in parlors and lecture-rooms?) 

 

This is not only one man, thisthe father of those who shall be fathers in their turns, 

In him the start of populousstates and rich republics, 

Of him countless immortal liveswith countless embodiments and enjoyments. 

 

How do you know who shall comefrom the offspring of his offspring through the centuries? 

(Who might you find you havecome from yourself, if you could trace back through the centuries?) 

 

8

A woman’s body at auction, 

She too is not only herself,she is the teeming mother of mothers, 

She is the bearer of them thatshall grow and be mates to the mothers. 

 

Have you ever loved the body ofa woman? 

Have you ever loved the body ofa man? 

Do you not see that these areexactly the same to all in all nations and times all over the earth? 

 

If any thing is sacred thehuman body is sacred, 

And the glory and sweet of aman is the token of manhood untainted, 

And in man or woman a clean,strong, firm-fibred body, is more beautiful than the most beautiful face. 

 

Have you seen the fool thatcorrupted his own live body? or the fool that corrupted her own live body? 

For they do not concealthemselves, and cannot conceal themselves. 

 

9

O my body! I dare not desertthe likes of you in other men and women, nor the likes of the parts of you, 

I believe the likes of you areto stand or fall with the likes of the soul, (and that they are the soul,) 

I believe the likes of youshall stand or fall with my poems, and that they are my poems, 

Man’s, woman’s, child’s,youth’s, wife’s, husband’s, mother’s, father’s, young man’s, young woman’spoems, 

Head, neck, hair, ears, dropand tympan of the ears, 

Eyes, eye-fringes, iris of theeye, eyebrows, and the waking or sleeping of the lids, 

Mouth, tongue, lips, teeth,roof of the mouth, jaws, and the jaw-hinges, 

Nose, nostrils of the nose, andthe partition, 

Cheeks, temples, forehead,chin, throat, back of the neck, neck-slue, 

Strong shoulders, manly beard,scapula, hind-shoulders, and the ample side-round of the chest, 

Upper-arm, armpit,elbow-socket, lower-arm, arm-sinews, arm-bones, 

Wrist and wrist-joints, hand,palm, knuckles, thumb, forefinger, finger-joints, finger-nails, 

Broad breast-front, curlinghair of the breast, breast-bone, breast-side, 

Ribs, belly, backbone, jointsof the backbone, 

Hips, hip-sockets,hip-strength, inward and outward round, man-balls, man-root, 

Strong set of thighs, wellcarrying the trunk above, 

Leg fibres, knee, knee-pan,upper-leg, under-leg, 

Ankles, instep, foot-ball,toes, toe-joints, the heel; 

All attitudes, all theshapeliness, all the belongings of my or your body or of any one’s body, maleor female, 

The lung-sponges, the stomach-sac,the bowels sweet and clean, 

The brain in its folds insidethe skull-frame, 

Sympathies, heart-valves,palate-valves, sexuality, maternity, 

Womanhood, and all that is awoman, and the man that comes from woman, 

The womb, the teats, nipples,breast-milk, tears, laughter, weeping, love-looks, love-perturbations andrisings, 

The voice, articulation,language, whispering, shouting aloud, 

Food, drink, pulse, digestion,sweat, sleep, walking, swimming, 

Poise on the hips, leaping,reclining, embracing, arm-curving and tightening, 

The continual changes of theflex of the mouth, and around the eyes, 

The skin, the sunburnt shade,freckles, hair, 

The curious sympathy one feelswhen feeling with the hand the naked meat of the body, 

The circling rivers the breath,and breathing it in and out, 

The beauty of the waist, andthence of the hips, and thence downward toward the knees, 

The thin red jellies within youor within me, the bones and the marrow in the bones, 

The exquisite realization ofhealth; 

O I say these are not the partsand poems of the body only, but of the soul, 

O I say now these are the soul!


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