R.S.托马斯：致一位年轻诗人

致一位年轻诗人

R.S.托马斯

头二十年，你还在长

身体；而作为诗人

你还未出生。下十年

你咬紧牙关，露出微笑

为向缪斯鲁莽求爱。

你会严肃对待那些最初韵事

用未成熟的诗作，但爱恋尚未

形成，而蒙羞却至，

当爱变成对一位冰冷皇后

苦役般的服侍。

四十岁始，

展开剩余77%

你从诗歌锋利的切口和锯齿中——

把你粗糙的双手中的琐碎，学会

如何以更高的技巧

将颂歌和十四行任意部分

组装，而时光培育出

一种新冲动，隐藏你的伤口，

以防她和一个大胆的公众

撬开。

现在你老了

正如岁月所测，但在那更缓慢的

诗人世界中，你也仅才成为

忧郁的男人，明白她骄傲脸上的

微笑，并非为你。

冯默谌 译

To a Young Poet

For the first twenty years you are still growing,

Bodily that is; as a poet, of course

You are not born yet. It’s the next ten

You cut your teeth on to emerge smirking

For your brash courtship of the muse.

You will take seriously those first affairs

With young poems, but no attachments

Formed then but come to shame you,

When love has changed to a grave service

Of a cold queen.

From forty on

You learn from the sharp cuts and jags

Of poems that have come to pieces

In your crude hands how to assemble

With more skill the arbitrary parts

Of ode or sonnet, while time fosters

A new impulse to conceal your wounds

From her and from a bold public,

Given to pry.

You are old now

As years reckon, but in that slower

World of the poet you are just coming

To sad manhood, knowing the smile

On her proud face is not for you.