蔗尾蜂房

[菲律賓] 璜．盧納 (Juan Luna, 1857-1899)，「楚拉婦．其二」 (Una Chula II)，1885，現藏於Lopez Memorial Museum。

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chula_series

*此處Chula一詞指十九世紀西班牙馬德里貧民區的工人階級婦女。





璜．盧納的「楚拉婦」
--Kristine Domingo, 羅浩原 譯

我們子夜的時光都消失到哪去了？
坐在椅子上時，我們需要微微向右傾嗎？

這就是我們生活中最爛的事發生的理由，身為一個女人
穿得一身咒詛的黑色，待在她自己家中的晚年。
背景是，無窮無盡的亂撥亂彈聲。

她在對一個男人說話，那男人任由
大海自他十七歲起吹拂著不敬天信神的風
讓老妻們繼續穿著黑衣服喪—

他如何能夠，在稍早前，就了然於心
知道夜晚每每需要

將她膝懷上的黑暗大地，以鬚邊
以她披肩的鬚邊披垂著直落到糾結的
我等的目光看不見之處為止？

她點燃香煙的那刻可能正是她
不耐煩我們的時候，當她任煙灰
落在堅實的地板上，亦任我們輕鬆自便於

她和他香煙的幽幽魂縷中。而那男人，與她對坐
而那女人，她傾聽著，順著正手方向斜倚

絕非下不為例，她順著你我皆有的人體工學
傾向真愛情人，那城市中絢爛的死，除此之外的
世界你我是不會拿上晚餐桌來談的

稍晚入眠後，我們會醒在床上的一縷絲線上
然後輕柔地，那吉他曲不待我們細聽便聲聲入耳
在那餘波陣陣離我等遠去的時分



Juan Luna's "Chula"
--Kristine Domingo

Where have all our wee hours vanished
when seated, we need to lean a little to the right?

This is the reason for the worst of our lives, a woman
has dressed herself in cuss-black, in afterlife in her own home.
In the background, an endless strumming.

A man she speaks with, himself left
the sea at seventeen in this disbelief of the breeze
carrying the old wives' on dark clothing and mourning-

How could he have, early on, in his heart kept
how the night at times would need

the dark land of her lap, fringes
of her shawl to stray as far as the knots of
our vision can let go?

When she lets the cigarette that could be her
impatience for us, when she lets its ash
to the sound wood, we help ourselves to

the ghost of their smoke. And the man, he sits with her.
And the woman, she listens, leaning to her right,

not for the last time to our bodily functions,
true loves, a graphic death in the city, and the rest
of the world we do not bring up over the dining table.

Later in our sleep, we awaken to a silk thread on our beds,
and softly, the guitar we need not strain to hear
when the last of the waves have left us.

* High Chair, Issue No.1, Dec. 2002.
http://www.highchair.com.ph/poetry_pop_JuanChula.html