历史悠久的克莱蒙村

历史悠久的克莱蒙村

我不记得
点过这支烟
我也不记得
我是一个人
还是在等谁。
我不记得何曾
见过这么多
漂亮的男人女人
在历史悠久的克莱蒙村
走来走去。
我一定锻炼过
因为我不记得
我怎么有这些肌肉;
还有这安详的表情:
我一定花了很多时间
思考那些垃圾事情。
孩子们经过我的长椅
被很快拉走
但年轻人
对他们秘密墓园里
这不寻常的庞然大物
的命运
深感兴趣,
他们转过身
回头看我。
长椅说,
“你要被风吹走了。”
钱包说,
“你六十二了。”
七层楼高的
尼桑探路者说,
“请把你的钥匙
插进方向盘后面
那个银色的地方。
那叫点火开关。”

——1997年3月2日

HISTORIC CLAREMONT VILLAGE

I don’t remember
lighting this cigarette
and I don’t remember
if I’m here alone
or waiting for someone.
I don’t remember when
I’ve ever seen so many
beautiful men and women
walking back and forth
in Historic Claremont Village.
I must have been working out
because I don’t remember
how I got these muscles;
and this serene expression:
I must have done my time
reflecting on the bullshit.
Children are pulled quickly
past my bench
but the young are deeply
interested
in the fate
of this unusually bulky presence
in their secret cemeteries,
and they twist around
to look back at me.
The bench says,
“You’re going to blow away.”
The wallet says,
“You’re sixty-two.”
The seven-storey
Nissan Pathfinder says,
“Try to put your key
in that silver place behind
the steering wheel.
It’s called the ignition.”
-March 2, 1997

Image: Gilad Benari
《渴望之书》
上海译文出版社
译者: 孔亚雷

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