AN UNEXPECTED MEETING
Wislawa Szymborska
We treat each other with exceeding courtesy;
we say, it's great to see you after all these years.
Our tigers drink milk.
Our hawks tread the ground.
Our sharks have all drowned.
Our wolves yawn beyond the open cage.
Our snakes have shed their lightning,
our apes their flights of fancy,
our peacocks have renounced their plumes.
The bats flew out of our hair long ago.
We fall silent in mid-sentence,
all smiles, past help.
Our humans
don't know how to talk to one another.
---
不期而遇
我們彼此客套寒暄，
並說這是多年後難得的重逢。
我們的老虎啜飲牛奶。
我們的鷹隼行走於地面。
我們的鯊魚溺斃水中。
我們的野狼在開著的籠前打呵欠。
我們的毒蛇已褪盡閃電，
猴子——靈感，孔雀——羽毛。
蝙蝠——距今已久——已飛離我們髮間。
在交談中途我們啞然以對，
無可奈何地微笑。
我們的人
無話可說。
英文翻譯:http://library.thinkquest.org/11959/szymbor/34poem1.htm
中文翻譯來自詩人陳黎:http://dcc.ndhu.edu.tw/chenli/szympoem.htm#不期而遇
Sunday, July 15, 2007
NOTHING TWICE
NOTHING TWICE
Wislawa Szymborska
Nothing can ever happen twice.
In consequence, the sorry fact is
that we arrive here improvised
and leave without the chance to practice.
Even if there is no one dumber,
if you're the planet's biggest dunce,
you can't repeat the class in summer:
this course is only offered once.
No day copies yesterday,
no two nights will teach what bliss is
in precisely the same way,
with exactly the same kisses.
One day, perhaps, some idle tongue
mentions your name by accident:
I feel as if a rose were flung
into the room, all hue and scent.
The next day, though you're here with me,
I can't help looking at the clock:
A rose? A rose? What could that be?
Is it a flower or a rock?
Why do we treat the fleeting day
with so much needless fear and sorrow?
It's in its nature not to stav:
Today is always gone tomorrow.
With smiles and kisses, we prefer
to seek accord beneath our star,
although we're different (we concur)
just as two drops of water are.
Wislawa Szymborska
Nothing can ever happen twice.
In consequence, the sorry fact is
that we arrive here improvised
and leave without the chance to practice.
Even if there is no one dumber,
if you're the planet's biggest dunce,
you can't repeat the class in summer:
this course is only offered once.
No day copies yesterday,
no two nights will teach what bliss is
in precisely the same way,
with exactly the same kisses.
One day, perhaps, some idle tongue
mentions your name by accident:
I feel as if a rose were flung
into the room, all hue and scent.
The next day, though you're here with me,
I can't help looking at the clock:
A rose? A rose? What could that be?
Is it a flower or a rock?
Why do we treat the fleeting day
with so much needless fear and sorrow?
It's in its nature not to stav:
Today is always gone tomorrow.
With smiles and kisses, we prefer
to seek accord beneath our star,
although we're different (we concur)
just as two drops of water are.
LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT
LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT
Wislawa Szymborska
They're both convinced
that a sudden passion joined them.
Such certainty is more beautiful,
but uncertainty is more beautiful still.
They thought they didn't know each other,
nothing had ever happened between them,
These streets, these stairs, this corridors,
Where they could have met so long ago?
I would like to ask them,
if they can remember -
perhaps in a revolving door
face to face one day?
A "sorry" in the crowd?
"Wrong number" on the 'phone?
- but I know the answer.
No, they don't remember.
How surprised they would be
For such a long time already
Fate has been playing with them.
Not quite yet ready
to change into destiny,
which brings them nearer and yet further,
cutting their path
and stifling a laugh,
escaping ever further;
There were sings, indications,
undecipherable, what does in matter.
Three years ago, perhaps
or even last Tuesday,
this leaf flying
from one shoulder to another?
Something lost and gathered.
Who knows, perhaps a ball already
in the bushes, in childhood?
There were handles, door bells,
where, on the trace of a hand,
another hand was placed;
suitcases next to one another in the
left luggage.
And maybe one night the same dream
forgotten on walking;
But every beginning
is only a continuation
and the book of fate is
always open in the middle.
---
Translation from Polish by Roman Gren
Translation from French by Sarah Hardenberg
---
第一段是從不同的翻譯來的 :P
也就是說以上是綜合了兩個英文翻譯的版本,這個網站上有幾個不同版本的翻譯可參考:
http://info-poland.buffalo.edu/web/arts_culture/literature/poetry/szymborska/poems/link.shtml
Wislawa Szymborska
They're both convinced
that a sudden passion joined them.
Such certainty is more beautiful,
but uncertainty is more beautiful still.
They thought they didn't know each other,
nothing had ever happened between them,
These streets, these stairs, this corridors,
Where they could have met so long ago?
I would like to ask them,
if they can remember -
perhaps in a revolving door
face to face one day?
A "sorry" in the crowd?
"Wrong number" on the 'phone?
- but I know the answer.
No, they don't remember.
How surprised they would be
For such a long time already
Fate has been playing with them.
Not quite yet ready
to change into destiny,
which brings them nearer and yet further,
cutting their path
and stifling a laugh,
escaping ever further;
There were sings, indications,
undecipherable, what does in matter.
Three years ago, perhaps
or even last Tuesday,
this leaf flying
from one shoulder to another?
Something lost and gathered.
Who knows, perhaps a ball already
in the bushes, in childhood?
There were handles, door bells,
where, on the trace of a hand,
another hand was placed;
suitcases next to one another in the
left luggage.
And maybe one night the same dream
forgotten on walking;
But every beginning
is only a continuation
and the book of fate is
always open in the middle.
---
Translation from Polish by Roman Gren
Translation from French by Sarah Hardenberg
---
第一段是從不同的翻譯來的 :P
也就是說以上是綜合了兩個英文翻譯的版本,這個網站上有幾個不同版本的翻譯可參考:
http://info-poland.buffalo.edu/web/arts_culture/literature/poetry/szymborska/poems/link.shtml
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