凶宅 

就连房屋中介都试图劝阻你
这隔音的房顶，不知通向何处的
楼梯，地下室的炉窑
散发着外科医生诊室的气味

更不用说你那浣熊眼房东
整夜在灯火通明的走廊里走来走去
玎玲珰琅，腰里挂着食人魔拳头大小的钥匙
还吹着口哨，把贴有特百惠标签的

生肉堆满好几个冷柜
但你却说租金划算，就直接
搬了进来。我去看你，你的头发
已经散发出福尔马林的味道，还有其他

难以说清的东西。但你却说 “很喜欢这里”。
甚至，就连警察 “也没发现什么”。当我问及
为什么一栋房子需要二十七个烟囱时，
你只是眨眨眼睛，指责我 “太入戏”。

又过一段日子，你不再接待访客。
当我敲门，你只是滑开门链，声称
自己刚洗完澡，还裹着浴巾
虽然我有两次看见你在门内，穿着鞋子

当我通过信箱向你大喊
“亲爱的，求你了，你住的是凶宅！”
你只回答 “那我为什么还没死？”
然后迈开你透明的双腿轻轻走去。

作者 / [英国]卡洛琳·伯德
翻译 / 流马

The Murder House 

Even the estate agent tried to dissuade you.
The soundproof vault, the staircases leading
to nowhere, the firebrick kiln in the basement
with the scent of a surgeon’s suite

not to mention your raccoon-eyed landlord
jangling all night around the strip-lit corridors
with an ogre’s fist of keys hanging from his belt,
whistling whilst stacking Sellotaped towers

of meaty Tupperware into multiple chest freezers
but you said the rent was reasonable and moved
straight in. When I visited, your hair already
smelt of formaldehyde and something else

unplaceable but you said you “quite liked it”
plus, the police had “found nothing”. And when I
asked why a house needed twenty-seven chimneys,
you just blinked and accused me of “being dramatic”.

After a while you stopped entertaining guests.
When I knocked, you slid the chain, claiming
to be towel-wrapped and fresh from the shower
although twice I saw your shoe in the door

and when I’d shout through the letterbox
“Sweetheart. Please. You’re living in a murder house!”
you’d simply reply “Then why aren’t I dead?”
and pad softly away on your transparent legs.

CAROLINE BIRD