在夜里，火光使皱纹更深了 眼眶也陷进去，隐藏着 比悲悯还厚的眸光 你剩炉架上烘烤的玉蜀黍 那是今晚以及一生的粮食 明晨要像只水鹿穿过针叶林 听听松萝悬垂的肃穆声音 中年白发的鹿野忠雄就是这样旅行的 从小把灵魂寄托给台湾 一个人背着三十年代，七访雪山 你也要朝一座没有回路的山脊出发 不留后代，只孤立起矮胖的身影 让头骨盖滚下碎石坡 那是樟树、桧木、铁杉逐一消失的地 四百年的不安 仅存一片寒原的宁静 眼泪从鼻缘扑簌滑落 滴进火焰熊熊梦中 一个自然学家的一生 孤独啊孤独 让星鸦叫醒死亡 让石虎噬咬肉身 让冬夜掩埋灵魂
The Central Range of Little Bear
Pinocha Liu
Kexiang
In
the night, firelight deepens wrinkles And
eye sockets grow more sunken, hiding away The
glint of pupils denser than sorrow You
squat down on your sagging backpack There’s
nothing left but roasted corn on the camp stove The
staple grain of this night and of a lifetime
Tomorrow
morning, you’ll thread your way through the forest full of pine needles like a
water deer Hearing
the solemn soughing of hanging vines Kano
Tadao1, white-haired and middle-aged, traveled this way He’d
given up his soul to Taiwan when he was a child Turning
his back on the 1930s, he made seven solitary visits to Snow Mountain You
too want to strike out toward a ridge of no return Leaving
no descendants, planting nothing but your solitary, squat shadow Letting
your skull tumble down a slope of shattered stones
This
is the region where camphor, juniper, and hemlock have disappeared in turn Four
hundred years without peace All
that remains is the quiet of a chilly plain Teardrops
fall from the tip of your nose Right
into a blazing, fiery dream The
life of a naturalist Is
lonely, so lonely
1.
Kano Tadao was a well-known Japanese ethnographer whose published work included
books on the aboriginal tribes of Taiwan.
（Andrea Lingenfelter 译） |
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