Never to reach the oblivious dark
And not to know
Any man's troubles nor your own—
Negatives impress negation,
Empty of light and find the darkness lit—
Never is nightmare,
Never flows out from the wound of sleep
Staining the broken brain
With knowledge that no use and nothing worth
Still's vain to argue after death;
No use to run your head against the wall
To find a sweet blankness in the blood and shell,
This pus runs deep.
There's poison in your red wine, drinker,
Which spreads down to the dregs
Leaving a corrupted vein of colour,
Sawdust beneath the skirts;
On every hand the evil's positive
For dead or live,
Froth or a moment's movement
All hold the sum, nothing to nothing,
Even the words are nothing
While the sun's turned to salt,
Can be but vanity, such an old cry,
Nothing never, nothing older
Though we're consumed by lovers and doubts.
I love and doubt, it's vain, it's vain,
Loving and doubting like one who is to die
Planning what's good, though it's but winter,
When spring is come,
The jonquil and the trumpet.
永不觸及那忘卻的黑暗
也別去了解
任何他人或自己的煩惱——
否定銘記否定,
光的空白處,發(fā)現(xiàn)黑暗被點(diǎn)燃——
夢魘不再,
不再從睡夢的傷口流淌,
知識沾染破損的大腦,
一文不值,毫無點(diǎn)滴作用,
縱然徒勞爭辯死后之事;
即便頭撞南墻也無濟(jì)于事
即便血液與軀殼找到甜美的空白,
這點(diǎn)膿藏得太深。
酒徒,你的紅酒里有毒,
散開來,沉積到渣滓
留下一抹腐敗的色澤,
裙沿下的鋸末屑;
每一只手上必有邪惡
活著或死去,
泡沫或片刻的移動(dòng)
所有掌握的一切,從無到無,
甚至連文字也是無
即便太陽轉(zhuǎn)向鹽,
一聲古老的哭喊,也只是虛無,
無未曾改變,無更為古老
縱然愛與困惑耗盡了你和我。
我愛又困惑,徒勞,徒勞,
愛與困惑,仿佛一位垂死之人
設(shè)想美好的一切,盡管只是冬天,
但當(dāng)春天來臨,
黃水仙和喇叭花盛開。