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标题: 【英文中译】秦俑 (Terra Cotta Soldiers) [打印本页]

作者: RidgeWalker    时间: 2014-2-14 14:33
标题: 【英文中译】秦俑 (Terra Cotta Soldiers)
本帖最后由 RidgeWalker 于 2014-2-19 14:00 编辑

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秦俑

嘿,当兵的,你这是怎么啦?
有人脚踩到你头上,你眼皮都不眨一下
几千只马蹄纷呈而至,你连一声都不吱
难道你哑巴了,还是那道真的已舍你而去
你那上阵的冲杀呐喊声呢?
是什么吸走了你阳气的精华?

那年你从我们的脚下出土时
我们下巴着地目瞪口呆,谁敢相信
你们就这样贮立了整整两千多年呐
不,沉默不再是金,那是世上永远
也听不见的最嘹亮的上阵呐喊声啊
可悲可叹哟,在时间的长廊里
你竟能这样挺下来。谁敢相信呐
相貌如此熟识,表情几乎一致
同样的骄傲,无奈,冷漠
那可是溶入我们骨血的气质 哟

也许我们应该感谢那老工匠,毕竟
是他的苦难赋予了你的栩栩如生,千年不变呀
孩提时代从师学艺时,他万万没料到
天才加勤奋竟成了一个人命运的死结
可怜名声在外呀,朝庭非但没发一张请柬
还派了几个大兵一根绳子把人带走了
老匠人被任命为司 俑,泥塑车马官兵
列伍成阵去守卫还在修筑中的皇 陵
一个盛放巨大邪恶的地下皇宫啊
选择泥塑仅仅是因为肉身易腐不能持久
老司 俑技艺空前绝后却赢不到一分荣耀
未听到一句赞美之词,反得严厉警告:
“汝若选择杀身以示不满,
将被洙灭十族,满村满镇的人哪
老的小的,无一人逃脱得了干系!“
从被抓的那天起兵士占据了他的一生
这无疑使他的作品更加出色
给于每个泥塑士兵鲜明的个性。。。
以至于我们几乎忘了一个天大的讽刺
– 艺术是老司 俑 一生 的 怨恨哪!

现在你该明白了吧
你们为什么如此排列
到底在守卫着什么。也许
当兵的天生忠诚于最高统帅
越专横的独裁者越能赢得你们的尊敬
越是残忍的帝王他的帝国越是威震天下
帝王死了也要拉他千万个陪葬者
让王权在另一个世界里辉煌持久
看哪,你们每个人威武骄傲昂首挺胸
一辈子没流过一滴眼泪哪!你也不敢
眼泪对一个士兵该是多大的羞辱
你只晓得方阵威武,沉默寡言,双眼空洞
… 就这样一个又一个世纪过去了

历史没有忘记那个制作你的庞大帝国
恰恰是在你焙烧出炉时轰然倒塌
帝王的葬礼空前隆重,老司 俑
和成千上万的泥塑兵士一起 陪葬
保持万年的 平衡从此被打破了
巨大的灾难势将砸毁这杯黄土
没人想得呵,如此可怕的失衡
非但没有带来更多的流血和灾难
反而给了这片土地盛唐丰宋
这个民族从此走上荣耀之途
一个经受了水深火热洗礼的民族
哺育了一代又一代天赋高超的英才
两千年弹指一挥这阳气的化石
出土了,才给子孙后代带来了
这个星球上从未有过的震撼

我们颤抖,如此大军拥有世上最纯的气
阳刚之气在空中四下蔓延,烘烤大地
那年农夫打井的钻头碰着了你
就有彩虹一道携五颜六色直射苍穹
除了我们还有谁能察觉
闪烁之情所掩饰的痛苦
毕竟 那一幕一幕清晰可鉴历历在目啊
多少代人绞尽脑汁参悟出来的 哲理
被我们粗蛮的帝王踩在了脚下
银河系最杰出的诗人们被流放到荒山野岭
英雄人杰被处死的处死,残杀的残杀
美人们在残忍刻毒里 自戕 残败
痛苦是巨大了,劈头盖脸般涌来 …
… 今天我们能活着,还能看到
你的出土便是奇迹哪 …
我们中间有人双膝发软
甚至 脊梁骨瘫痪

惊愕之余,我们不得不承认
我们就是那些倒霉的孩子,你的后代
我们的祖先是站着死的呀
爱的涓流汇成一涡,风起波皱
没有人知道你的回生意味着什么
我们默默凝视着你在全世界巡展
出入于一个又一个博物馆展览厅
空气凝重,不知该如何诉说
每当看到你,或单立或泥塑士兵成队
我们同时感到骄傲和耻辱
一团野火在戈壁滩熊熊燃烧
我们喉咙受堵,呼吸困难
我们多想大声呐喊
我们不是这群 该死的士兵的后代
我们和你们之间唯一的联系是这片土地
你们不仅又聋又哑,也让我们别无选择
你们是一群空壳,天生双眼不能聚焦
世界已离你而去,也以同样的命运威胁我们
但是,在那之前我们要让你身披霞光
让全世界都睁眼看看这人世的杰作
我们的祖先的苦难没有白挨,因为
代表他们绝世天资和坚忍不拔的
真实写照里有你也有我

写于 2000 年 3 月
改于 2007 年 5 月
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Terra Cotta Warriors

Tell us, what's the matter with you, soldier?
When your heads were stepped over, you didn't even blink.
Thousands of hooves stomped by; yet you didn't even moan.
Have you lost that shout? Or the Dao has abandoned you?
Whatever happened to your battle cry?
What caused the erosion of the essence of the Yang in you?

When you were unearthed from underneath our feet
our collective jaw dropped to the ground, for it was hard
to believe they’ve you lined up like this
for a couple of millennia
Silence is no longer gold
but the loudest battle cry that will never be heard
Sad but miraculous that through the corridor of time
you have somehow kept yourself alive
We marvel at the resemblance and the familiar expression
of pride, of helplessness and of indifference
an expression that has eventually become us

Maybe we should thank the Chief Craftsman
for his suffering kept you vivid for eternity
When he was a boy, learning his crafts
He hadn't got the slightest idea that someday
His genius and dedication would become his demise
For his fame, the Imperial Court issued no invitation
Instead, they sent some bruising soldiers to capture him
He was made the Chief Craftsman to craft the best
clay soldiers that will guard the emperor's tomb
a container of gigantic evil.
Clay simply because human body would rot
For the craftsman of great skills, there was no honor,
no proper decoration but a cruel threat:
"If you ever kill yourself in protest
Death will become your entire family,
your entire town, infant and elderly included"
From that day on soldiers dominated his life
A fact that no doubt contributed to his art pieces
and enriched the individuality in his creation
Thus your stance had us greatly impressed
We almost forgot that grand irony of centuries --
art was the Chief Craftsman's lifelong spite

By now you probably have realized
why you’ve been lined up like this, and
whom or what you were supposed to protect
Soldiers are born to take pride of their commander
The more terrible the tyrant the more respect you yield to him
The more cruel the emperor the more resounding the empire
A dead emperor must be accompanied by thousands
into the underground, so his power lingers on forever
Oh, you hold your chin up with dignity and glory
None of you has ever shed a tear. You couldn’t
for tears can be so shameful for a soldier's dignity
Thus you remain strong but silent and empty
... for centuries ongoing

History has yet to forget that it is the empire
that ordered your creation also collapsed with your completion
The emperor’s funeral was grand, accompanied
by the Chief Craftsman and thousands of terra cotta soldiers
An ancient equilibrium was thus broken
Catastrophe was feared on this bowl of yellow earth
Who would know that such a severe tip of balance
brought to this land not more bloodshed and misery
but a glorious Tang then a prosperous Song
thus yielded an unparalleled greatness
to a people of spectacular suffering and genius
Now a couple of millennia later this fossilization of Yang
under the yellow earth eventually brought to your offspring
the most fantastic agitation on this planet

We tremble, an army of this magnitude possesses the purest Qi
The aura of virility made the air bubble and scorched the earth
The day when a peasant's well-drill reached you
A rainbow of myriads of colors shot up into our sky
Who but we could detect the pain wrapped in glittering pride?
for, so many episodes are still vivid in our mind
Ancient philosophies constructed by years of medication
were trashed by the emperor of our own barbarianism
and shunned by many of our simpleton kings and lords
Great poets of the Milky Way Galaxy were exiled to wild mountains
And since the burials of soldiers made of clay
heroes are executed or cancelled each other out
beauties were treated with cruelty and destruction
the pain was inevitable and gigantic ...
... miracle is that we still live to the day
to see you being unearthed ...
Only now we feel that weakness in our knees
weak may also be some of our spines

Astonished, we came to grasp the sad fact
that we are, indeed, the unfortunate children of you
the damned soldier who died standing up
Our love has trickled into a puddle of uneasiness
We’ve got no idea what your re-appearance will bring to us
We watch your being paraded around the world
in museums and exhibition halls
We struggle in silence to explain why we feel so
whenever we face you
A solitary soldier or an army of clay mummies,
both pride and shame stack up in our heart
a fabulous congestion stuck in our throat
Like a wild fire raging across the Gobi Desert
We want to declare that we are no children of any damn soldier
The only link between you and us is this time eternal land
Not only are you dumb and deaf, you also leave us with no choice
You are nothing but empty shells with eyes that could never focus
The world has left you and is threatening to leave us soon
However, before that takes place, we'd like to make sure
that proper light be shed on you so the world could see
that you are truly masterpieces of human creation
and our ancestors didn't suffer in vain
for they have you as well as us
as proof of their great genius and perseverance

written in March, 2000
revised in May, 2007


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