獄卒
--Sylvia Plath (1932-1963)，羅浩原 譯
我的暗夜盜汗油潤了他的早餐盤
被輪轉到定位的是同一面告示牌：藍色的霧
與同樣一片樹林、一方方墓碑
他使出全部本領就搞出這麼點兒
鑰匙的鋃鐺聲嗎？
我給下藥強姦了
被搞得神智不清整整七個鐘頭
進了個黑麻袋
我在裡面癱軟了、胎盤了或貓了起來
助長了他淫夢
我掉了東西了
我的安眠膠囊，我紅藍相間的齊柏林飛船
把我從駭人的高度拋了下來
硬殼粉碎了
我散落一地任群鳥啄食
啊，小螺紋錐子！
薄紙似的日子上已扎滿了孔子！
他直用香煙頭燙我
當我是有著粉紅掌心的黑女人
我就是我。可這還不夠
高燒令我頭髮先是汗涔涔繼而乾巴巴
我瘦出了肋骨。我都吃了些什麼？
不就謊言和微笑
天空肯定不是這種顏色
草地肯定該會泛起漣漪
我成天將燃過的火柴棒黏出一個教堂
全心夢想著一個截然不同的男人
而他，因為這顛覆行為
傷害著我，他這人
披著虛偽當作盔甲
戴著他高傲冷漠的失憶症面具
我怎麼來到了如此境地？
身為刑期不定的犯人
我的死法五花八門--
吊死、餓死、燒死、鉤死！
我想像著他
如遙遠的雷聲般陽痿無能
在他的陰影下我已食盡我魑魅魍魎的配糧
我但願他死掉或離去
這看來是絕無可能
且不論這個。若不發高燒供其吞噬
黑暗又何以施展？
若無眼珠供其戳刺
光線又何以得逞？倘若沒了我
他，又能做啥、做啥、做啥？
The Jailor
--Sylvia Plath
My night sweats grease his breakfast plate.
The same placard of blue fog is wheeled into position
With the same trees and headstones.
Is that all he can come up with,
The rattler of keys?
I have been drugged and raped.
Seven hours knocked out of my right mind
Into a black sack
Where I relax, fœtus or cat,
Lever of his wet dreams.
Something is gone.
My sleeping capsule, my red and blue zeppelin,
Drops me from a terrible altitude.
Carapace smashed,
I spread to the beaks of birds.
O little gimlets!
What holes this papery day is already full of!
He has been burning me with cigarettes,
Pretending I am a Negress with pink paws.
I am myself. That is not enough.
The fever trickles and stiffens my hair.
My ribs show. What have I eaten?
Lies and smiles.
Surely the sky is not that colour,
Surely the grass should be rippling.
All day, gluing my church of burnt matchsticks,
I dream of someone else entirely.
And he, for this subversion,
Hurts me, he
With his armoury of fakery.
His high, cold masks of amnesia.
How did I get here?
Indeterminate criminal,
I die with variety--
Hung, starved, burned, hooked!
I imagine him
Impotent as distant thunder,
In whose shadow I have eaten my ghost ration.
I wish him dead or away.
That, it seems is the impossibility.
That being free. What would the dark
Do without fevers to eat?
What would the light
Do without eyes to knife, what would he
Do, do, do without me?
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