蔗尾蜂房

 


 
 
 
 
 
 
可口可樂罐人類學
-- Afrizal Malna (1957- ), 羅浩原 譯
霍爾格，在你漿果塹街的公寓，我瞧見了爪哇皮影戲偶，像窗頁般闔在一塊兒。在書架上，你還藏著馬克思與佛陀。在明信片、甜甜圈、與散落的紙巾之間，你是從哪尋見人性的？在你鞋子的點地聲中，天際正吻著殘光餘陰，只見一片白茫茫、只見一片白茫茫。
可我腳上的襪子不夠暖，漢堡市的空氣與人群都與這片國土如此疏離。我看到了代表不同國家的十組人偶，像這對漢諾威的老夫婦，他們微笑著：光用番茄醬與紙巾就能舖排出一座城市嗎？他們被人從這部電視帶到另一部電視，從小村莊出來的，正學著看電子產品、開立匯票。天空，像一層層的紙巾，只見一片白茫茫、只見一片白茫茫。
人嘛則是另外一回事，霍爾格，坐在寂聊的5瓦特的燈下，喃喃地說著，冷颼颼的德語。在這座公寓裡面，我們很清楚，霍爾格，外面人來人往…放下了他們的國家，不去踹這桶水：我們只是剛好想起了人類，置身幢幢的城市，堆疊得像一罐罐可口可樂。
1993
Antropologi dari Kaleng-Kaleng Coca-Cola
--Afrizal Malna (1957- )
Holger, di Beerental Weg ini, apartemenmu, aku lihat wayang kulit Jawa, seperti jendela-jendela tertutup itu. Kau sembunyikan juga, Marx dan Budha dalam rak-rak buku. Di manakah manusia kalian temukan, di antara kartu pos, donat, dan serakan tissue. Langit mencium sisa-sisa waktu, pada detak sepatumu, putih melulu, putih melulu.
Tapi kaos kakiku tak cukup menahan dingin, udara Hamburg bersama orang-orang sunyi dari bangsanya sendiri. Aku lihat boneka 10 negeri, seperti pasangan tua di Hannover, mereka tersenyum: Bisakah menata kota, denga tomat dan tissue melulu. Mereka dibawa dari televisi yang lain, dari desa-desa kecil, belajar elektronika, dan membuat wesel. Langit, tissue berlapis-lapis, putih melulu, putih melulu.
Tetapi seorang lelaki adalah kisah lain, Holger, yang meletakkan dirinya dalam sepi lampu-lampu 5 watt. Dan membuat bisik-bisik, dalam bahasa Jerman yang beku. Lalu dari apartemen ini, kita tahu, Holger, di luar orang berlalu, berlalu . . . meletakkan bangsanya, tanpa membanting ember: kita hanya mengenang manusia, dari kota-kota, yang ditata kaleng-kaleng coca-cola.
1993
Anthropology of Coca-Cola Cans
--Afrizal Malna (1957- ), translated by Linda Owens
Holger, here in Beerental Weg, your apartment, I see Javanese shadow puppets, like those closed windows. You are hiding as well, Marx and Buddha in the bookshelves. Where do you find humanity, amongst the postcards, doughnuts, and shredded tissue. The traces of time, in the tapping of your shoes, white through and through, white through and through.
But my socks don't keep out the cold, the Hamburg air and people isolated from their own nation. I see the dolls of ten countries, like elderly couples in Hanover, they smile: Can you plan a city, with tomatoes and tissues alone. They are transported from another television, from small villages, they study electronics, and draft money orders. Sky, layer upon layer of tissue, white through and through, white through and through.
But a man is a different story, Holger, who places himself in the desolation of 5 watt bulbs. And makes whispering, in frozen German. From this apartment then, we know, Holger, outside people pass by, pass by . . . laying down their nation, not tipping the pail: we are merely reminded of humans, from cities, arranged of coca-cola cans.
1993
Afrizal Malna, Sarah Maxim & Linda Owens, trans., “Selected Poems,” Indonesia, No. 62 (Oct., 1996), pp. 83-89

[Chanel OO]
--Afrizal Malna(1957-  )
Permisi
Saya sedang bunuh diri sebentar.
Bunga dan bensin di halaman.
Teruslah mengaji,
Dalam televisi berwarna itu,
Dada.
[OO 頻道]
--Afrizal Malna(1957-  )，羅浩原 譯

圖說:
<<和解的手槍: "羅盤"1996短篇小說選集>>(Pistol perdamaian: cerpen pilihan Kompas 1996), (Jakarta : Harian Kompas, 1996).  書中有收錄Afrizal Malna的作品.
[破掉的麥克風]
--Afrizal Malna(1957-  )，Taufiq Ismail英譯，羅浩原 轉譯
他們真的離開那個小鎮了，一台揚聲器與一個孤獨的聽眾。他們再也沒有回來。現在那個小鎮變成一個沒有人口的詞彙。暴風雨和夜晚經常造訪那個小鎮，帶來洪水般的詩行。
但那破掉的麥克風生出了一段 1 cm的評論顫抖著朗誦給你聽。人們說在那個小鎮裡語言已變成成群的孤兒。暴風雨和夜晚不斷地潑灑到你心裡面，此時人們閉口不言只用他們顫抖的手指交談。不過那麥克風無法認出你來，在任何市鎮都一樣。緊接著暴風雨和夜晚開始從回憶中離去，沒聲沒息地變作了字句。
你仍然相信在正史之外傳誦的詩歌嗎？
而今那暴風雨和夜晚的小鎮變成許多物件，落在你手中，有許多故事可以說。它們就是要待在那裡，它們不要變成什麼別的人物。一隻破掉的麥克風探訪過各種城鎮，就像那1 cm的擴音器你掛在你的脖子上。在那裡沒有任何文字能取代你自己。那隻破麥克風噴湧出無數讀者，在許多大喇叭之間他們把你的小鎮建立起來，從過去的1cm中，將文字從記憶中抽離。 
1989
引自:
Afrizal Malna, John H. McGlynn, Linda Owens, tran., Biography of Reading:
Collected Poems Afrizal Malna, Jakarta, 1995.
[The Broken Microphone]
They did leave the little town, an amplifier with a lonely audience. They never returned afterwards. The little town now becomes a word without population. Rainstorms and nights visited the town frequently, with flooding lines of poems.
But the broken microphone gave birth to a 1 cm remark trembling to read you. People say that languages have became orphans in that little town. Rainstorms and nights ceaselessly poured in your heart, when people can only talk through their trembling fingers. But the microphone can never recognize you, in any town. Then rainstorms and nights started to part from reminiscence, changing into words without tidings.
Do you still believe that poetry outside history reads?
The rainstorm and night town now transformed itself into things, in your hands, has so much to tell. They want to be there, they do not want to be anybody. A broken microphone visited various towns, just like the 1 cm speech-maker in your neck. No word can replace yourself there. The broken microphone spurted readers, in between loudspeakers who wanted to construct your town there, from the past 1 cm, split vocabulary from memory.

<<侵擾墓園的狗群: "羅盤"1997短篇小說選集>>(Anjing-anjing Menyerbu Kuburan: Cerpen pilihan Kompas 1997), (Jakarta: Harian Kompas, 1997). 書中收錄了Afrizal Malna的作品.
[關於體重的一堂英文課]
--Afrizal Malna(1957-  )，Marianne Konig英譯，羅浩原 轉譯
請問一下，你的體重值多少錢﹖請等一下，我的頭是一團砂石。我的手臂長六十公分。對不起，你的體重有多少小時﹖我的雙唇很厚。當然，我的雙腳褐黃得跟政府大樓一樣。請告訴我，你的體重到底怎麼重﹖我名叫阿馬，你這笨蛋﹗不﹗我的頭是一團砂石。有條水溝。垂淚於水槽。雨落進水桶，等等。為何你的雙手粗糙﹖就像權力。你有文化，對吧﹖你的臉紅通通。你喜歡蕃茄汁﹖ 請問一下，你的體重是誰﹖這就是我的兩腳，你這笨蛋﹗請問…請問。請伴隨我的身體。別再這樣。一團砂石要幹嘛﹖請問…你的體重在何方﹖抱歉，請別捏我鼻子。你心愛的人在何方﹖蘿蔔豌豆已煮好。請問，水煮開了嗎﹖貓毛掉進你眼中很憋扭，不是嗎﹖美極了。穿上傳統蠟染衫就對了。可這會讓我的女友狐疑。別忘了，我叫阿馬。呃，你沒有肥皂怎麼受得了﹖啊，他的耳朵怎麼變成這樣﹖請問，你曾見過你的體重嗎﹖你要寫篇論文，是嗎﹖關於文化﹖是的，一則政治與經濟的分析。顯然，這會傷到你的手。 
1995
引自:
Afrizal Malna, John H. McGlynn, Linda Owens, tran., Biography of Reading:
Collected Poems Afrizal Malna, Jakarta, 1995.
[An English Lesson About The Weight of the Body]
Pardon, how much is your body's weight? Just a moment, my head is cubic of sand. My hands are 60 cm. Excuse me, how many hours is your body's weight? My lips are thick. For sure, my feet are brown like the government buildings. How is your body's weight, please. My name is Ahmad, you fool! No! My head is one cubic of sand. There is a gutter. Tears at the wash basin. Rain in a bucket, wait. Why are your hands hard? Like the power. You have culture, do you? Your face is red. Do you like tomato juice? Pardon. Who is your body's weight? My feet are there, you fool!...Please. Accompany my body. Not like that. A sack of sand for what? Sorry...where is your body's weight? Pardon, don't hold my nose. Where's your beloved? Carrots and beans are already cooked. Excuse me, is that water already boiled? The cat's hair in your eye is funny, isn't it? Beautiful. Just wear that batik shirt. It will make my girlfriend suspicious. Don't forget, my name is Ahmad. Ugh, how can you do without soap? Ah, how come his ears are like that? Pardon, you ever saw your body's weight? Want to make an essay, do you? About Culture? A political and economic analysis, yes. Your hand will hurt, of course.

[我們的傳家寶]
--Afrizal Malna(1957- ), 羅浩原 譯
(轉譯自Marianne Konig之英譯)