转:版权声明:转载时请以超链接形式标明文章原始出处和作者信息及本声明 他们彼此深信, 比《诗人与世界——希姆博尔斯卡诗文选》里翻译得要好听多了。我喜欢她的另一首诗,《在某颗小星下》,以前网上流传的一个版本也比这本书里翻译得要好得多。我真怕这个伟大诗人的好多好诗都被翻译糟蹋了。《向左走向右走》中出现的《一见钟情》,大概是波兰语,用粗俗的英语就太不小资了,可惜咱们只能看看英语版—— Love at First Sight——by Wislawa Szymborska THEY'RE BOTH CONVINCED Since they'd never met before, they're sure I want to ask them They'd be amazed to hear Not quite ready yet There were signs and signals, There were doorknobs and doorbells Every beginning
http://kialiu86.blogbus.com/logs/8222962.html
[转贴]辛波丝卡《一见钟情》中文译作比较赏析及对“主流文化”的思考 http://www.douban.com/subject/discussion/1045812/
《一见钟情》我最先在电影中读到,是波兰女诗人诺贝尔奖得主辛波丝卡
(Wislawa Szymborska)的诗作。感动欣喜之余就去找辛波丝卡的诗集,先到图
书馆搜一下,居然一击中的(中国社会科学院张振辉研究员译本),欢欢喜喜地
抱回了家。当然先翻到最爱的《一见钟情》(电影里只是节选),惊异:原先唯
美动人的佳作为何变成这般模样?小做一番探察后方知原委,由此还引发了对
“主流文化”的一些思考。
一、《一见钟情》的四个版本
(一)LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT
(二)一见钟情
By Stanislaw Baranzak & Clare Cavanagh
陈黎译
They're both convinced
他们两人都相信
that a sudden passion joined them.
是一股突发的热情让他俩交会。
Such certainty is beautiful,
这样的笃定是美丽的,
but uncertainty is more beautiful still.
但变化无常更是美丽。
Since they'd never met before, they're sure
既然从未见过面,所以他们确定
that there'd been nothing between them.
彼此并无任何瓜葛。
But what's the word from the streets, staircases, hallways---
但是听听自街道、楼梯、走廊传出的话语──
perhaps they've passed by each other a million times?
他俩或许擦肩而过一百万次了吧?
I want to ask them
我想问他们
if they don't remember---
是否记不得了──
a moment face to face
在旋转门
in some revolving door?
面对面那一刻?
perhaps a "sorry" muttered in a crowd?
或者在人群中喃喃说出的“对不起”?
a cut "wrong number" caught in the receiver?
或者在听筒截获的唐突的“打错了”?
but I know the answer.
然而我早知他们的答案。
No, they don't remember.
是的,他们记不得了。
They'd be amazed to hear
他们会感到诧异,倘若得知
that Chance has been toying with them now for years.
缘分已玩弄他们多年。
Not quite ready yet
尚未完全做好,
to become their Destiny,
成为他们命运的准备,
it pushed them close, drove them apart,
缘分将他们推近,驱离,
it barred their path,
阻挡他们的去路,
stifling a laugh,
憋住笑声
and then leaped aside.
然后闪到一边。
There were signs and signals,
有一些迹象和信号存在,
even if they couldn't read them yet.
即使他们尚无法解读。
Perhaps three years ago
也许在三年前
or just last Tuesday
或者就在上个星期二
a certain leaf fluttered from one shoulder to another?
有某片叶子飘舞于肩与肩之间?
Something was dropped and then picked up.
有东西掉了又捡了起来?
Who knows, maybe the ball that vanished
天晓得,也许是那个
into childhood's thicket?
消失于童年灌木丛中的球?
There were doorknobs and doorbells
还有事前已被触摸
where one touch had covered another
层层覆盖的
beforehand.
门把和门铃。
Suitcases checked and standing side by side.
检查完毕后并排放置的手提箱。
One night, perhaps, the same dream,
有一晚,也许同样的梦,
grown hazy by morning.
到了早晨变得模糊。
Every beginning
每个开始
is only a sequel, after all,
毕竟都只是续篇,
and the book of events
而充满情节的书本
is always open halfway through.
总是从一半开始看起。
(摘自网站 http://www.lmbe.seu.
(摘自网站http://www.hgjh.hlc.
(三)一见钟情
张振辉译
两个人都相信,
把他们连在一起的是一种突然的感情,
真的相信当然是件好事,
但如果不相信就更好了。
有人说,如果他们不是早就相识,
他们之间什么也不会发生。
可他们在大街上,在阶梯上,在走廊里
是不是早就见过面?
我想问问他们,
他们记不记得
他们在旋转门里见过面,
在握手的时候道过一声“对不起”?
在话筒里说过一声“错了”?
我知道,回答一定是:
不,我不记得。
使他们惊奇的是,
一个偶然事件长期以来,
一直在戏弄他们。
他们要改变自己的命运,
但没有下定决心。
而命运却一忽儿靠近,一忽儿远离他们,
一忽儿挡住他们的去路,一忽儿跳到一旁,
只是没有对他们发出吃吃的笑声。
虽然有过记号和信号,
但这有什么,这些记号和信号都看不懂。
是不是在三年前,或者在上礼拜二,
有一片小小的树叶
从一个肩膀飞到了另一个肩膀上?
还有一个失去的东西,一个被抛起来的东西,
谁知道这是不是小时候在草丛中捡到的那个小球?
门的把手和门铃,
它们后来的接触躺在早先的接触上。
储藏室里的箱子和箱子放在一起。
也许在某个夜晚做了一个相同的梦,
可是醒来以后,它又模糊不清了。
每一个开始
都是一个进程的继续。
事件的大书
总是敞开一半。
(摘录自《诗人与世界》,张振辉译,中央编译出版社,2003)
看电影《向左走向右走》,听到希姆博尔斯卡《一见钟情》的另一种翻译。
是瞬间迸发的热情让他们相遇,
这样的确定是美丽的,但变幻无常更为美丽。
他们素未谋面,
所以他们确定彼此并无任何瓜葛。
但是自街道、楼梯、大堂传来的话语……
他们也许擦肩而过一百万次了吧?
我想问他们是否记得,
在旋转门面对面的那一刹,
或在人群中喃喃道出的“对不起”,
或是在电话的另一端道出的“打错了”
但是,我早知道答案,
是的,他们并不记得。
他们会很诧异,
原来缘分已经戏弄他们多年,
时机尚未成熟,
变成他们的命运。
缘分将他们推进,
却阻挡他们的去路,
忍住笑声,
然后闪到一旁。
that a sudden passion joined them.
Such certainty is beautiful,
but uncertainty is more beautiful still
that there'd been nothing between them.
But what's the word from the streets, staircases, hallways—
perhaps they've passed each other a million times?
if they don't remember—
a moment face to face
in some revolving door?
perhaps a "sorry" muttered in a crowd?
a curt "wrong number" caught in the receiver?
but I know the answer.
No, they don't remember
that Chance has been toying with them
now for years.
to become their Destiny,
it pushed them close, drove them apart,
it barred their path,
stifling a laugh,
and then leaped aside.
even if they couldn't read them yet.
Perhaps three years ago
or just last Tuesday
a certain leaf fluttered
from one shoulder to another?
Something was dropped and then picked up.
Who knows, maybe the ball that vanished
into childhood's thicket?
where one touch had covered another
beforehand.
Suitcases checked and standing side by side.
One night, perhaps, the same dream,
grown hazy by morning.
is only a sequel, after all,
and the book of events
is always open halfway through