I imagine this midnight moment’s forest: Sometimes
else is alive Beside
the clock’s loneliness And
this blank page where my fingers move.
Through
the window I see no star: Something
more near Though
deeper within darkness Is
entering the loneliness:
Cold,
delicately as the dark snow, A
fox’s nose touches twig, leaf; Two
years serve a movement, that now And
again now, and now, and now
Sets
neat prints into the snow Between
trees, and warily a lame Shadow
lags by stump and in hollow Of
a body that is bold to come
Across
clearings, an eye, A
widening deepening greenness, Brilliantly,
concentratedly, Coming
about its own business
Till,
with a sudden sharp hot stink of fox It
enters the dark hole of the head. The
window is starless still; the clock ticks, The
page is printed.
思想之狐 泰德·休斯
我想像着这片午夜的森林： 还活跃着别的东西， 在这孤寂的时钟旁， 在我指间移动的空纸旁。
我透过窗子，看不到一颗星星： 而某个更近的东西 隐没在更深的黑暗之中， 正在渗入这片孤寂：
凉凉地，微弱地，如同黯淡的雪 狐狸的鼻子触动着嫩枝和叶片； 双眼配合着它的运动，一次， 又一次，一次，再一次
将整洁的足印雕琢在白雪中， 一个跛足的身影在树木间， 缓慢而小心地越过树桩， 那空荡的身体贸然地走来，
穿越那片林间的空地，有一只眼睛， 一片深邃的广阔的碧绿， 明亮地，专注地， 着手自己的事。
直到它钻进大脑的黑洞， 带着一股突来的、辛辣刺鼻的狐臭。 窗前依然没有一颗星星；钟声滴滴答答地响着， 纸页已然印好。
（徐翰林 编译） |
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