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??罗伯特。保莱特的诗歌<br/>?<br/>??罗伯特。保莱特最近编辑出版的诗集是《肯尼斯的恐惧》(绿木出版集团,1983年)此书陈列在美国图书馆里.他在纽约的新中学导演了<毕业写作节目><br/><br/>??(2003/10) <br/>《好莱坞小山》??<br/><br/>——罗伯特.保莱特<br/>?<br/>她的灵魂穿过大地<br/>她总是漂回好莱坞小山<br/><br/>曾和她做过一次爱的那个有名的瘾君子<br/>观看她,同另一个女人做爱后才来跟她做爱<br/><br/>她便一直记着那个夜晚,他为她<br/>大叫出他的名字而嘲笑她<br/>??<br/>我是属于你一个人的荡妇<br/>??<br/>沐浴后仍然是湿漉漉的,几乎<br/>赤裸,这并不是一个诡计<br/><br/>他正告诉那个深陷爱情中的女人,他猜想<br/>这是她需要听进去的话,<br/>事情搞糟了,他能不走吗? <br/>只是作为一朵玫瑰开了,又败了<br/>??<br/>第二天早晨他认为他无意间听到宾馆员工嘲弄的语气<br/>呻吟着喊他的名字——那被她夜里情欲汹涌反复叫喊的名字<br/><br/>??*<br/><br/>一圈圈雨淋过的墨水印——让雨浸泡过的报纸<br/>她瞥了眼天气预报:有雨<br/>?? <br/>由于种种原因,我的生活是困难的<br/><br/>在我成为演员之前,我在纽约一家新潮宾馆里工作<br/>他不断地邀我去他房间——在我 <br/>真正认识他之前?<br/>我总是说不<br/>?? <br/><br/>即便她告诉他那让她感到龌龊<br/>她用她旧情人的故事逗他<br/>但他说,当女演员你就避免不了这种事<br/>唱片磨损,唱针走到某处就总在一个<br/>唱纹里走,重复着“爱你爱你爱...”。<br/>??<br/>??*<br/>??<br/>她给他留言机上留言,要求不再通话<br/>原谅我,我不能跟你通话.跟你通话后就得跟别人也通话<br/>尤其是某人,请他也别再打来电话.这件事必须终止<br/>“她”在留言机里留言,就像歌手为实况演出<br/>而事先录制自己的歌一样。<br/>?? <br/>??<br/>在床上,我们总是玩三人行<br/>他,无论女孩是怎样的情形,他真的想要,而我<br/>正在被吸干<br/>??<br/>我困惑过,她说.上帝将会如何重造我<br/>现在,我懂了<br/><br/>Hollywood Hills<br/><br/>??by Robert Polito<br/><br/>??Her soul drifts across the continent.<br/>??She keeps returning to the hills above Hollywood<br/>??The famous addict who once made love to her,<br/>??After watching her first with another woman.<br/>??She is remembering the night he mocked her<br/>??For crying out his name<br/>??I was your own private whore.<br/><br/>??Still damp from the shower, still almost<br/>??Naked, but not yet of guile,<br/>??He is telling the love-sick woman what he guesses<br/>??She needs to hear,<br/>??Things are bad, how can he not leave?<br/>??But as a rose turns and closes<br/>??The next morning he thinks he overhears the hotel staff moan<br/>??His name—name in the night she repeated so passionately—with derisio.<br/>??*<br/><br/>??In the running ink of the rain-soaked newspaper,<br/>??She glimpses the forecast: rain.<br/>??My life was difficult for lots of reasons<br/>??Before I was an actress I worked at the trendy New York hotel,<br/>??He kept trying to get me up to his room—this was before<br/>??I really met him—<br/>??But I always said no.<br/>??Even though she tells him it makes her feel coarse,<br/>??She amuses him with stories of her ancient lovers.<br/>??You will never get over this being an actress, he says.<br/>??The scratched disc stuck on love you love you love<br/>??<br/>??*<br/><br/>??She phones his machine, demanding no more calls,<br/>??Forgive me, I can’t talk to you, talking<br/>??To you makes me phone other people, one in particular, to ask<br/>??Him to stop calling too, and this must stop.<br/><br/>??Like a singer who ghosts his own voice for the live show<br/>??There were always three of us in bed<br/>??Him, whatever girl he really wanted, and me<br/>??Sucking away—?<br/>??I wondered, she says, how God would remake me.<br/>??Now I know.<br/><br/>??<br/><br/>?? <br/><br/>《流星》<br/><br/>——罗伯特。保莱特<br/><br/>“今晚我看到一颗流星,我想起了你……”<br/><br/>在旧金山的地下室公寓<br/>那里住个女人,我一直听到有人议论她。她<br/>声称过去二十年他与鲍勃。狄兰<br/>生活在一起,她希望写一本关于它的书<br/>这对他一定是很新鲜事——嗨,伙计<br/>你是在逗我吧,但那个女人<br/>在自己的北沙滩小店里卖围巾。<br/>与这个女人一致的是<br/>狄兰改变了很多,现在有些发福,仍显和善,<br/>有些疯癫。一会儿住院,一会儿出院,他看起来<br/>不像是自己。依旧地,无论他旅行到哪里,<br/>他都会给她发情诗,用他放荡不羁的方式,<br/>她倍感荣耀地四处向人展示。<br/><br/>一个瞌睡的厨房,在黎明时分,女人向<br/>茶壶走去,睡衣敞开她的腰部<br/>一个面孔严肃的男人,醉醺醺,懒洋洋的,在后边缓步而行。<br/>尽管被损害,但依旧魅力十足,为她织出<br/>孤独之外的模糊的混合体或是疯狂或是金钱<br/>这天早晨醒来,旁边有个劝说你的人。<br/>他要你相信,他录下《流星》那首歌,只是为你<br/><br/>Shooting Star<br/><br/>by Robert Polito<br/><br/>“I seen a shooting star tonight, and I thought of you . . .”<br/><br/>In a San Francisco basement apartment<br/>There’s a woman I keep hearing about, who<br/>Claims for the last twenty years she’s lived<br/>With Bob Dylan, and wishes to write a book about it.<br/>That might mostly be new to him—hey man,<br/>You must be putting me on. But she sells scarves<br/>From her own North Beach shop, and according<br/>To this woman Dylan’s changed—a lot—<br/>Heavy now, yet kind, if also a little<br/>Crazy, in and out of hospitals, he doesn’t look<br/>Like himself. Still, wherever he travels<br/>He mails her love poems in his familiar<br/>’60s style, and she’d be honored to show them around.<br/><br/>A sleepy kitchen at dawn, the woman steps<br/>Towards the kettle, pajamas open to her waist,<br/>An owlish man, drunken, slothful, lags behind.<br/>The glamour of the damaged, but how much<br/>More gratifying for her not to have spun the whole<br/>Hazy farrago out of loneliness, madness, or for money,<br/>And this morning to wake beside someone<br/>Who persuades you he recorded “Shooting Star” just for you.<br/><br/><br/><br/>三匹马歌剧<br/><br/>——罗伯特。宝莱特<br/><br/>在宾。克罗斯比歌剧《高高的骑士》结尾,<br/>他的马将被埋在他倒下的跑道中<br/>作为我们所有人的一个教训,悲伤的,好笑的宾。<br/>暴徒不想让百老汇的比尔获得胜利。所以杰克<br/>拉着缰绳在纯种马结束第一跑道时受伤<br/>暴跌,心脏病<br/><br/>我爱你像吉他的弦断了<br/>在笨拙的信仰手中——<br/>某些事像那样……<br/>假如我一直想着你那复杂而美丽的手<br/>除了想象要求我拥有吉他,如果不是你,并且弦断了。当<br/><br/>扩音器对着起跑门一遍又一遍地向骑士喊<br/>轨道服务生和讲话的人,射击名手和象棋大师<br/>摔跤选手和小骗子,各自饰演他们的角色<br/>抢劫团伙戴上他们的面具<br/>沙丽将背叛乔治,约翰妮将不会爱上芬<br/>命运仅仅是被吹走的手提箱<br/><br/><br/>Three Horse Operas<br/><br/>by Robert Polito<br/><br/><br/>At the end of Bing Crosby’s Riding High his horse<br/>Will be buried in the clay of the racetrack where he fell,<br/>As a lesson for all of us. Sad, waggish Bing,<br/>The Mob didn’t want Broadway Bill to win, so the jockey<br/> ulled on the reins until the thoroughbred, straining<br/>Over the finish line first, collapsed, heart attack.<br/><br/>I loved you like a guitar string breaking<br/>Under the conviction of a clumsy hand—<br/>Something like that . . . I suppose I must have<br/>Been thinking of you and your complex and beautiful band,<br/>Except the image demands I hold the guitar,<br/>If not you, and the broken string, as<br/><br/>Over and over loudspeakers call riders to the starting gate.<br/>The track bartender and a teller, a sharpshooter and the chess master<br/>Wrestler, the petty con man and a cop, reprise their parts.<br/>The heist gang dons clown masks, and<br/>Sherry will betray George, and Johnny can’t love Fay,<br/>And the fortune in the suitcase just blows away.<br/><br/><br/>动物模拟<br/><br/>太阳的会议在城市的另一面<br/>逆光被一个在橘黄色缆绳中出现的粉红根茎拖拽<br/>高高在上的达拉斯西米舞在她面前充斥六只脚和手<br/><br/>她的思绪和凝视进入深深的天宇<br/>在她抓住受制观众前,她曾颤抖着<br/>微笑,穿过空气稀薄的通风天井前<br/><br/>“看起来你是周旋其中的全部。爱,<br/>新植物!很多,哈,隐秘的事……”<br/><br/>拉上带花瓣的窗帘,返回<br/>键盘上——她的小说。我们打开更多的纸箱<br/>她的哈巴狗低声呻吟,每个午夜都睡在我们卧室<br/><br/>。<br/><br/>生活向前走了一步<br/>或向后<br/><br/>硬甲螃蟹像圆形的鹅卵石<br/>岩石唤醒大脑<br/><br/>甲虫与玫瑰花瓣同样地<br/>装饰一个玫瑰花丛<br/><br/>凯丽玛的斑点类似地衣——带条纹的地衣<br/>伴随与他们一同成长的白杨上的树结<br/><br/>西拉克斯的减压伴随飞鸟的坠落<br/>显得惶惑<br/><br/>。<br/><br/>在这里五周,我行动起来像个本地人<br/>一个剧烈的趔趄,在越狱的路途和<br/>走向死亡的征程之间根本无选择余地<br/><br/>靠后的一个旅行者与他的行包<br/>被一个步行交叉点弄得失速了<br/>我放任我的身体陷入一场交通事故——<br/><br/>似乎小汽车和我是相同的<br/>似乎我们能做的全部便是谋杀<br/><br/>训练有素的眼睛在内地平线上<br/>(接受所有,无所得到)<br/>我向上瞅着,进入镜影<br/><br/>爱情药房的通道会发现<br/>猎鹰成瘾的鸟笼<br/>我自己穿着一件乌鸦衫<br/><br/>对自己不断嘟囔着,本能地<br/>我感到我在家<br/><br/>当一个男孩与我父亲航行经过比米尼<br/>我看到,我诅咒,黑色穿过蓝宝石水域<br/>一只章鱼缩着它的触须,<br/>弯着它的脊背,用它自己适当的颜色沉向海底<br/><br/>一块石头……像他的公鸡和在寒冷的<br/>Y形池中的舞会。当我们裸泳时,收回<br/>笛状的蜗牛和贝壳<br/><br/>没有一个大过我自己,我叫着<br/><br/>直到我向下看去——多年后在癌症病房<br/>他请我支撑着她<br/><br/>而他滴下的血,进入兰色塑料杯中<br/><br/>。<br/><br/>夜晚,我们和肥猫交流<br/>艾维斯,心的黑色天才<br/><br/>和老房子,他的被警笛冰凉的滋扰<br/>消防车,尖叫<br/><br/>作为退职者自我放逐的出现<br/>能主宰谁的名字呢?<br/><br/>他担负着醒来的军空局<br/>在雅典和孟菲斯<br/><br/>汉语,我安慰他道:<br/>音译为艾维斯<br/><br/>书名叫《猫的国王》<br/>可依旧是紧张的锉刀声 |
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