通用挽歌
致太阳，即将熄灭或停止转动
或将在与这个时代同样糟糕的
某新纪元里剧烈内爆。
致独角鹿, 死在逃向
北部庇护区的路途中，无所谓
什么原因。致红杉车洞树，
前些天暴风雨将它
连根拔起。致我童年时驾车
穿过树洞的幻想。致加利福尼亚。
致这悲伤，这喜乐，这
地板上的桶，致工业，
在它不可避免的衰败后
伤你最深。
致宠物兔子，死在
我们后院
怪诞的笼子里。致烧毁了的
学校。致我梦里的湖，
湖水总是结冻。
致你出生时
痛苦之谜。致这新年，
其实根本就不是新的。
它与去年，前年等等
都一样。致空气
在我嘴里状如空无
致钟声响起
穿过早雨。
致每一个被忽视的警告。
致甜蜜的爱情，
尽管看起来永远
不可能拥有。致挪威
它已经关闭了所有的长波广播。
致沉默，没有人
真正地重视。致那首歌，
我在电梯里无法辨听，
我所能做的只是痛。
致夜晚，更加的宽广
压抑和彻底，
其中有不断争辩之声。
致与众星的冲突。
致灰烬，致风。
致这不测风云，我们称之为人生。
保罗 . 盖斯特
Phil试翻 20190623
All-Purpose Elegy
By Paul Guest
For the sun, which will burn out or run down
or dramatically implode in a future
epoch about as awful as this one. For
the one-antlered deer that expired en-route
to an upstate sanctuary because
why not. For the sequoia tunnel tree
which was uprooted in a storm
the other day. For my boyhood fantasy
of driving through it. For California.
For this sadness. This joy. This
bucket on the floor. For the industry
which will most harm you
upon its inevitable demise.
For the pet rabbits who died
in grotesque cages
in our backyard. For the school
that burned down. For the lake
in my dreams which is always frozen.
For the pained myth
of your birth. For this new year.
Which isn’t new at all.
Which will be the same
as last year and the one before it.
And so on. For the air
inside my mouth shaped like nothing.
For the bell ringing
through the early rain.
For each unheeded warning. For sweet
love, which seems ever more
impossible. For Norway,
which has shut down all its FM broadcasts.
For silence, which nobody
truly values. For the song
I couldn’t recognize in the elevator,
though all I could do was ache.
For the night, which becomes more immense
and depressing and utter
and the voices in it which argue and argue.
For this conflict with the stars.
For ashes. For the wind.
For this emergency we call life.