Against the Day期 待 明 天

文/李道 译析/李小蕾

By Richard Burns

Against the Brydale day, which is not long . . .

To Lara, on her eighteenth birthday

I

Against the window, against desire,against expectation, which is not long, she leans away from her light source, and her eyes stay just in shadow as she seems to smile Or say hello, before she starts singing her song which binds unguarded love to you:against the gold and white fire of her dress,against a covered, curtain-hidden sun,she plays it throughout everlastingness,glowing, a pearl, offset against the day.

II

Against her covered, curtain-hidden sun,by being just and all she knows she is,she plays her being’s pattern, as she glows against the day, which settles in her core and grows there, generous, clear centred, sure,as if she were some sturdy, dew-pearled rose gathering light towards her. It collects within her forehead, pools beneath her skin And radiates towards us, quiet, strong,delicate, but untouchable, as her song.

III

This music binds unguarded love to you,her fingers may say to her instrument’s strings and her melody call to the shadows and glooma nd whoever listens in the next room at the end of her gaze, we cannot see.

Hello. Hello. Are you there? Can you hear?

And whether she aims to impress or attract or simply to please, or just doesn’t care,it’s subtle, this mooted joy she folds in her envelope of luminous air.

IV

She is a pearl, offset against the day,against the twin perfection she knows she is and the other perfection she leans towards which is the space gathering between us from the pools of her densely pupilled eyes and the few rich, perfect, ornate things in the room where, smiling, she sits and sings the silence which frets our history’s lacunae in unheard of, guessed at bars,and lights against the space she occupies.

V

Delicate, but untouchable as her song,in playing, she tunes an orchestrated light which is her being’s pattern, and no more than what she is, or has awareness of.Smiling, she plays as if her song were willed

By a more intelligent, kinder love Protecting and surrounding her young face Than any we have understanding of,as if the day itself had overspilled itself through her to make those fingers skilled.

VI

In her envelope of luminous air,joy may be folded, and some other things:pearls round her neck, but no bracelets or rings,whose absence may mean, imply or suggest an innocence: in her ringleted hair,ermine and silk, she is wearing her best,As she plays on, quiet, aware-unaware And ready to move yet still seem at rest,whether she’s smiling, or blushing, or sings and plays for herself, and just doesn’t care.

VII

She lights against the space she occupies,familiar in its elegance and grace,and yet, in youthful eagerness, her face leans still against more space, she may not know outside this screened, framed room she’s captured in against the daylight, closeted for good in the too pure perfection of a pearl,against desire, that radiates through her skin:now, now, she plays, for she is young, a girl just turning from us into womanhood.

VIII

The day in her, to make her fingers skilled(as though she were the space she occupies)to reach across the broken, varnished years in silent music no-one really hears towards us in another century,has made her human: no pure pearl or bloom could possess such composure. Those deep eyes are burdened with too fine, alert intelligence and too prepared, in willing mute obedience to wait forever in her drawing room.

IX

If she plays for herself, and just doesn’t care whose being she plucks from her instrument’s strings(woman, girl, woman, in yellow and white),but smiles at an audience of none, in the wings,no secret admirer, protected from sight,no parent or guardian to applaud her, or call,then it’s her own selfhood she sifts as she sings and her own self-becoming wavering there hidden against the chiaroscuro half-light as in an unseen mirror on a wall.

X

Just turning from us into womanhood against the day, against parental praise,she gives to shadows one half of her face and a warm human longing fills her gaze yet quietens it, for it is still uncertain.so, balanced between action and repose,she looks away. What there she sees or knows offstage, in her own private, secret place,waits there, without embodiment or history and is not for the telling. It’s her mystery.

XI

To wait for ever in her drawing room could be her destiny, always: poised steady as a dart to pierce the adulthood she leans against, but never will command more than the brush held in her maker’s hand who formed her, against day, against desire and against his day’s possessions. Against her bridal day, no girl could seem so ready as she, in certain hope, so quali fied by all but nature, for her womanhood.

XII

As if glimpsed in a mirror on a wall she’s posed, as ornamental as the tree gilt-framed behind her: nature trapped inside arti fice, inside arti fice, where she,pearled tracery on rich parental pride,sits screened in flattened space, to play on three dimensions, self-contained, in perfect liberty:but the fourth, our common history, we share with her across the barricaded years within whose space alone may she be freed.

XIII

What is not for the telling, but her mystery,we cannot know: she may play for her groom,or entertain a friend, or family guest,who, deep in the interior of her room,off in the wings, unfettered by her frame,knows her full repertoire we cannot hear.

we only see her hopeful gaze arrest on absent presence, distant and yet near,and whoever may be listening, manifest space as the sound her silent song must claim.

XIV

From all in nature must her womanhood remain exempt, unless you hear her. This is still and always all art ever meant,and only you have natural power to call her being from its painted arti fice created by the man who patterned all he knew in her, of love’s integument against the day. You are the instrument she plays on, until doomsday: against you the gloom she gazes, still and always,through.

XV

Within whose space, alone, may she be free if not in yours? Come, hear her subtle playing unlock the solid shutters of the years and open them, light-wrought, in filigree:playing her being’s pattern, she plays true.She is the song she plays, and what it’s saying(This music wings unguarded love to you),calls you, who are her song’s recipient,yourself, to pattern love, her music’s key,and join her in the gift of this, her moment.

XVI

Your space: the single sound her song may claim to open, is the gift a father knew seeing his natural daughter come of age.this child of his will meet her adulthood by playing her being’s pattern quietly through the centuries, until she reaches you.

You are her hope, her natural heritage.

You are the absent audience in her wings.Your entrance is the cue a parent would most desire for her. It is for you she sings.

XVII

The gloom she gazes still and always through clears, as you listen. This, her painter knew:unless you hear her music, and impress the sound it makes upon your inner ear,she will not play at all but wait forever.She gives herself. Her gift is its own giver and its envelope of luminous air bears your mark on it. You are its address.

Whoever you may be, although unknown,her music plays to all of you alone.

XVIII

Come, join her in the gift of this, her moment,becoming her own secret audience as if you were the listener in the wings for whom her music’s made, performed and meant,and, though this be impossible, confess how well you hear and understand these songs she plays to you through everlastingness on soundless subtle chords no aural sense could ever pluck, except against the heart,against the day, against desire, in art.

期待不久之后的婚期……

值劳拉十八岁生日之际，谨以此诗奉献给她

Ⅰ

面朝窗子，期待激情，期待明天，出闺的日子近在眼前，光影斑驳，她明眸善睐，在黑暗中驻留，笑意嫣然，顾盼神飞，她轻声吟唱，在肆意中洒落，一腔深情：金白相间，她裙子的丝线，身后的窗帘，遮住了太阳，乐声袅袅，她穿越永恒，如珍珠般光洁，期待着明天。

Ⅱ

身后的窗帘，遮住了太阳，做着自己，她安然自若，自我的旋律，她悠然弹奏，期待明天，她气定神闲。

白昼的光影在她的脸上聚焦，茁壮生长，犹如挂着露珠的玫瑰，倾斜的阳光在她的身上洒落。日光如瀑，她的前额氤氲开来，阳光也映照着我们，安宁，强烈，美妙，但无法触摸，一如她的歌声。

Ⅲ

在肆意中洒落，一腔热情，呢喃低语，她拨动着手中的琴弦在乐声中体会，流光溢彩，无论是谁，她感动了隔壁的听众，她目光定格的地方，我们无法企及。

你好。你好。你可在那里？你可曾听到？

她想要打动听众还是吸引他们，想要取悦他们还是毫不在意，这感觉微妙，她把朦胧的喜悦折叠进那明媚的信封。

Ⅳ

如珍珠般光洁，期待着明天，她清楚自己拥有的双重完美那第二重等待中的完美就是她和我们之间的距离她乌黑的眼珠，似一泓深泉目光深邃，饱含着深情她安坐于房间，浅唱低吟着我们之间流淌而逝的岁月我们之间隔着音符的距离她面朝着阳光的方向。

Ⅴ

歌声悠扬，但无法触摸，她拨动着和谐的曲调安然自若，气定神闲，她演绎着本真的自我。

笑意倩然，抚琴弹奏，她感受着上天的眷顾神灵庇护她那年轻的面庞我们无从想象那如有神助，岁月饱满得要盈盈溢出，时光造就了那一双精巧的手。

Ⅵ

她明媚的信封里，折叠着喜悦和其他：珍珠环绕着脖颈，但没有手镯或耳环，它们的缺席也许暗示或意味着一种纯真：编成麻花的发辫，貂皮丝绸的外衣，是她最美的妆扮，她继续演奏，安详静谧随时准备起身，却纹丝未动，巧笑倩兮或是脸飞红云，或是自娱自乐，根本毫不在意。

Ⅶ

她面朝着阳光的方向，优雅如常，然而，怀着少女的期待，她渴望未知的明天困在画框的空间里沐浴着阳光，定格成永恒如珍珠般完美，期待激情，肌肤晶莹：她就这样弹奏着青春，这个女孩即将长大成人。

Ⅷ

时光造就了那一双灵巧的手（她的身上仿佛凝结了时间）穿越破碎青柠的岁月无人知道那寂静的音乐她在另一个世纪遇见我们，而我们使她复活：珍珠或鲜花都比不上她的沉静。那双深邃的眼睛闪烁着聪慧与灵敏她沉默柔顺，待字闺中，却随时准备着爱情的降临。

Ⅸ

她自娱自乐，根本毫不在意肆意拨动着手中的琴弦（女人，女孩，女人，穿着黄白相间的外衣），对着空无一人的边厢，微笑示意，没有躲在暗处的仰慕者，也没有父母或家人为她喝彩，给予回应，如果是这样，那么她的曲子就是为自我而弹为未来的自己而唱躲在光影斑驳的地方仿佛对着墙上无形的镜子。

Ⅹ

她即将长大成人期待明天，期待父母的赞扬，那半侧脸庞隐于暗影目光里盛满热切的期盼但秘而不宣，只因一切未知。一半是行动，一半是静止，她望向别处。在自己私人的领地里朝边厢张望，她看见了什么，我们无从了解。这是属于她的秘密。

XI

永远地待字闺中大概是她不变的命运：如一枚随时准备刺入成年的飞镖她时刻期待着，但摆脱不了画家手中的画笔他塑造了她，让她期待明天，期待爱情期待他拥有的一切。她期待着出嫁的日子，没有哪个女孩比她更加急迫，她怀着希望和纯真迈入她的成年。

XII

仿佛对着墙上无形的镜子她的姿势如同一棵静止的树镀金的画框：她的天性束缚在精巧的工艺中，父母的自豪用珍珠串起她囿于二维空间，却演绎着三维空间，自娱自乐，无拘无束：但那第四维空间，是我们共同的历史，我们穿越时光与她相遇她终于获得自由。

XIII

我们无从知道她的秘密：她可能是为未来的新郎而弹，或是为娱乐家人朋友而奏，他们隐于房间的暗处，边厢里，不受画框的束缚，感受着她尽情的挥洒。我们只看到她热切的凝视停留在遥不可及又近在咫尺的空白地方，无论谁在倾听，都能传达此时无声胜有声的意境。

XIV

你听到她的音乐之后她才能迈入成年。这就是艺术的全部意义，只有你才能让她从艺术中复活披着爱的外衣，那位匠人描绘出对她的全部了解。你就是她演奏到老的乐曲：她凝望的方向始终都是你。

XV

如果没有你，她怎能获得自由？

过来，请倾听她的浅吟低唱把这些年来紧锁的百叶窗打开屋里洒满阳光，芳香四溢：她拨动着自己的旋律，忠于自我。

她就是她弹奏的曲子，是它的诉说这支曲子洒落对你的一腔热情，你就是它呼唤的听众，你拥有打开她音乐的钥匙，请加入她的演奏，这属于她的时刻。

XVI

你的空间是她歌曲唯一开放的窗口，是父亲清楚女儿长大后将收获的礼物。他的孩子将要迈入成年她自弹自唱，乐声穿越世纪，最后来到你的身边。你是她的希望，是她天然的财富。

你就是躲在边厢里的那位听众。

你的到来是她父母最大的宽慰。她的歌为你而唱。

XVII

你倾听的时候，她凝望的黑暗将隐去。她的作者清楚这一点：除非你听到她的音乐，让那乐声传入你的耳朵，否则她将永远在等待中度过。她交出了自己，她自己就是送给读者的礼物她就是那明媚的信封上面刻有你的名字。你就是她的地址。

无论你是谁，就算无人知晓，她的乐曲也只为你而弹奏。

XVIII

过来，加入她的演奏，这属于她的时刻，做她隐秘的听众仿佛你就是那边厢里的听者她的音乐为你而创作，为你而弹奏，即使不可能，也试着告诉她那些歌曲让你多么感同身受她的音乐向你书写着永恒在无声的琴弦上，在听觉无法感知的地方，只有怀着期待的心情，在艺术的殿堂里，期待明天，期待爱情。

【译后记】

译者于2015至2016年赴剑桥大学访学一年，有幸结识了英国当代著名诗人Richard Burns（原名Richard Berengarten，中文名李道），曾至诗人家中拜访数次，就此诗的创作理念和中心思想与诗人进行过反复的探讨。如今，承蒙他的盛情邀请，试译了此诗。诗本不可译，纵然如此，有感于其间的诗意和难得的缘分，再加上诗人对中国文化的一片赤诚之情，还是尽了朴拙之力以为之，望读者指正。

【诗歌赏析】

李道，1943年出生于伦敦，英国当代最著名的诗人之一。他曾旅居意大利、希腊、南斯拉夫和美国，赴16国指导文学创作，两度被英国皇家文学基金会聘为研究员，目前居住于英国剑桥镇并在剑桥大学多个学院担任导师。他的诗歌风格多变，融合了英国、法国、美国、犹太、东方、地中海和斯拉夫等多元文化的影响；主题涉猎广泛，从历史政治、日常生活到精神世界和奇思妙想，无一不是其兴趣所在。他于1975年创办了如今享有盛名的剑桥国际诗歌节，并于2015年在剑桥协办了首届徐志摩诗歌节。出版著作Against Perfection（《期待完美》，1999）、The Blue Butter fly（《蓝蝴蝶》, 2006）、Manual（《手册》, 2014）和Changing（《易》，2016）等三十多部，获得过摩拉瓦河国际诗歌奖、温盖特诗歌奖、塞尔维亚诗歌奖等众多国际文学奖项。他的诗歌已经被翻译成96种文字，影响深远。

2016年对于英国诗人李道来说，是和中国文化联系密切的一年。2016年6月，他受邀首次来到中国，出席了四川西昌的“丝绸之路国际诗歌周”，同年10月又出席了“2016凤凰·鼓浪屿诗歌节”并代表所有国际诗人致开幕词。2016年9月，他出版了名为Changing（《易》）的鸿篇巨制，这是一部向中国的哲学经典《易经》致敬的作品。遗憾的是，这样一位享有国际声誉且对中国文化如此痴迷的诗人，其部分诗作却尚未被译成中文，比如这首长诗“期待明天”（选自诗集《期待完美》）即是以中文的形式初次和我国读者见面。

“期待明天”可以被视作对荷兰古典画家约翰内斯·维米尔的《吉他少女》的解读，前者是诗，后者是画，经由诗人之手，艺术完成了一次从画到诗的自然流淌。与《戴珍珠耳环的少女》相比，这幅肖像画略显呆板，也许不算画家的精品之作。然而，诗人却从这幅看似不完美的画中挖掘出了完美的意蕴。画中的少女让他想到了自己即将成年的女儿，因此他怀着一腔深情与之娓娓交谈，就连日后出版的诗集也以该少女作为封面。

此诗的结构独具匠心。首先，全诗共分为十八个环环相扣的诗节，这个数字对应的是诗人女儿的年龄，正如扉页上所写的那样：“值劳拉十八岁生日之际，谨以此诗奉献给她。”每一个诗节都包含十行，呈对句形式，大部分诗行采用的都是五步抑扬格（iambic pentameter）。其次，这些诗节之间也有着微妙的联系。诗人向笔者透露，在构思该诗的结构时，他受到中世纪的英国诗歌“珍珠”（作者珀尔，作于十四世纪晚期）的启发。这首鲜为人知的诗歌共分为二十个篇章，每个篇章包含五个诗节。每一诗节末尾的措辞都遥相呼应了下一诗节开头的措辞，所以读来仿佛串起的珠子，故名“珍珠”。在“期待明天”一诗中，诗人仿效“珍珠”的结构，每个诗节（最后三个诗节除外）的尾行都会重现在接下来的第三个诗节的首行，只是在细节方面稍有变化。比如，第一个诗节的尾行会在第四个诗节的首行再现，以此类推。整首诗歌即围绕着数字“三”盘旋缠绕，象征着少女三股一体的麻花辫。除了“珍珠”给予的灵感之外，诗人还特别向笔者强调，中国的易经文化博大精深，其象、数、理三位一体的核心思想也给了他莫大的启迪。

除了结构精巧之外，该诗的内容也饱含温情。在前七个诗节里，诗人描绘出了女孩抚琴自唱的画面：她安坐于窗边，怀抱着吉他，对着边厢里缺席的听众浅吟低唱。她在乐声中期待着什么？或许是明天，或许是成年，或许是她走出闺房、享受爱情的日子。所有的细节，读者无从知晓，只能揣测。在后十一个诗节里，诗人把问题的答案向读者徐徐道来：原来少女期待的是日后与无数观者跨越时空的相逢，信笺的地址就是我们。只有观者才能把她从这幅画框中解救下来，倾听她的琴声，体味她的诉说，也只有观者才能把过去和未来连接在一起，实现她的价值，完成她的夙愿。原来画作的观者就是边厢里那缺席的听众。诗人这样颇具哲理的安排不禁让人想到莎士比亚十四行诗中的名句：只要世间尚有人吟诵我的诗篇，这诗就将不朽，永葆你的芳颜。是啊，经由观者，这幅《吉他少女》的画作从十七世纪一直流传至今；同理，经由读者，这首《期待明天》的诗作也将从今天一直走向未来。

最后，援引李道在“2016凤凰·鼓浪屿诗歌节”上的开幕词：“未来和过去都在召唤着我们，通过诗歌进入现在，进入当下，无论主客。”就让我们作为这首诗歌的读者，反客为主，亦主亦客，与诗中的少女窃窃私语，与诗外的李道侃侃而谈，感受艺术的魅力和文化的共通。 □