题图 /Ana Yael

终结在海边的诗

1

我一直想要写一首终结在
海边的诗。这首诗怎么到的海边
并不重要，重要的是它终于
到了。海牛会在那里，
我们很多年前见过的，
在水下几乎纹丝不动
如同一只吊坠在无形的喉咙处摇曳
像我妈妈以前，在最特殊的场合
戴的那个。我的神
依然在那里，我还是个小男孩时曾向他祈祷：
他从不回应，但这并不能阻止我
向他呼唤。

2

我永远关闭了推送通知的应用程序，
再不需要知道究竟错过了多少。
毕竟，牢牢地抓住生活
是我们一直以来最擅长的事。
我们仍在努力回避
事物的真相，谁
又能责怪我们。
清单也不再必要，
除非排在头两位的是厕纸和花生酱。
没有人告诉临终病人
载他们过河的渡轮
将有多拥挤。

3

我们被禁止去咖啡馆、教堂，甚至墓地。
但独自垂钓，还是允许的。只要
我们什么都不带走。只要我们步行
回家时，暗夜中两手空空，
呼吸沉重，归还了
从来不属于我们的东西。

作者 /[美国] 吉姆·莫尔

翻译 / 马丁格

Poem That Ends at the Ocean

1

I’ve always wanted to write a poem that ends
at the ocean. How the poem gets there
doesn’t much matter, just so at last
it arrives. The manatee will be there
we saw all those years ago,
almost motionless under the water
like a pendant swaying at an invisible throat,
the one my mother used to wear
on the most special of occasions. My God
is still there, the one I prayed to as a boy:
he never answered, but that didn’t keep me
from calling out to him.

2

I turn off the notification app for good,
no longer needing to know exactly how many gone.
After all, clinging to life
is what we have always done best.
We are still trying to hide
from the truth of things and who
can blame us.
Lists don’t make sense anymore,
unless toilet paper and peanut butter head them.
Last-stage patients are not being told
how crowded the ferry will be
that will take them across the river.

3

We are forbidden cafés, churches, even cemeteries.
Fishing by ourselves, however, is still permitted. As long
as we keep nothing at all. As long as we walk
back home, in darkness, empty-handed,
breathing deeply, having thrown back
what was never ours to keep.

Jim Moore

这是一首关于抓住和放弃的诗。年纪渐长以后，经常会碰到小朋友问起人生中一些重大决定，比如，为什么会在顺风顺水时放弃某项事业？为什么没有把看起来很擅长的爱好坚持到底？为什么不选择一条更有前景或更轻松的道路？这样的问题往往很难回答，因为每个决定都牵扯到不愿回想的历史细节。

这首诗提供了一个简单的答案：因为那些东西本就不属于我，我只是一个不被授予所有权的垂钓者，时间到了，钓到的鱼都要退还水中。是在天黑后两手空空内心茫然地回家？还是早一点收手，趁天色尚早，从容地离去？

荐诗/马丁格

第2936夜