人要对大多数耐心
他们所求就像喊叫-
马大,和马利亚-他曾梦想
她们会满足于看见
他能。但没一个灵魂信他:
‘主啊,你来晚了,’人们说。
向着所赐平安,即使令他哀伤
他开始做那不被允许的。
身体炙热,半目含愠
他悲伤地问,“墓地在哪?’
人们簇拥在他后面,好奇地
发现他似乎在流泪。
他走去墓时,整件事似乎怪异如
孩子气的,吓人的实验:
他突然心忧如焚
无所不包的争论
和他们的生死做对,他们所有的别离
全是自我造就,
他全身因那拒绝而颤抖
高声喊道 ‘把石头移开’。
有人回说那尸定是臭了
(已葬四天)-但他
巍然而立, 目不转睛地
举起手,那如此费力地
举起的手 (未曾有手
如此慢地举起,如此无法测度),
直到它停下,闪耀在一片愁云中。
它慢慢地,蜷起五指:
如果所有死去的都被吸引
上来,通过坟茔的管道,
那苍白如蛹般的物体
从一直沉睡的地方开始扭动?-
但它是独自站着的(没别的回应),
人们看到那模糊,无法分辨的
生命在迫求归属。
One had to bear with the majority -
what they wanted was a sign that screamed:
Martha, though, and Mary -he had dreamed
they would be contented just to see
that he could. But not a soul believed him:
‘Lord, you’ve come too late,’ said all the crowd.
So to peaceful Nature, though it grieved him,
on he went to do the unallowed.
Asked them, eyes half-shut, his body glowing
with anger, ‘Where’s the grave?’ Tormentedly.
And to them it seemed his tears were flowing,
as they thronged behind him, curiously.
As he walked, the thing seemed monstrous to him,
childish, horrible experiment:
then there suddenly went flaming through him
such an all-consuming argument
against their life, their death, their whole collection
of separations made by them alone,
all his body quivered with rejection
as he gave out hoarsely ‘Raise the stone’.
Someone shouted that the corpse was stinking
(buried now four days ago) - but He
stood erect, brim-full of that unblinking,
mounting gesture, that so painfully
lifted up his hand (no hand was ever
raised so slowly, so immeasurably),
till it stood there, shining in the gloom.
There it slowly, clawingly contracted:
what if all the dead should be attracted
upwards, through that syphon of a tomb,
where a pallid chrysalides thing
was writhing up from where it had been lying?-
But it stood alone (no more replying),
and they saw vague, unidentifying
Life compelled to give it harbouring.
问好,觉得文学城好像就喂们两个里尔克粉? 不知道能不能称你是粉,我是粉 :)