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For the Union Dead
為聯(lián)邦軍陣亡將士而作
Relinquunt Ommia Servare Rem Publicam.
為共和國效力，他們奉獻(xiàn)了一切
The old South Boston Aquarium stands
此刻，古老的南波士頓水族館站立在
in a Sahara of snow now. Its broken windows are boarded.
雪的撒哈拉沙漠之中。它破敗的窗子被木板封住。
The bronze weathervane cod has lost half its scales.
青銅風(fēng)標(biāo)上鱈魚的鱗片已經(jīng)剝落一半。
The airy tanks are dry.
空洞的魚箱那么干燥。
Once my nose crawled like a snail on the glass;
我的鼻子曾經(jīng)像蝸牛在玻璃上爬行；
my hand tingled to burst the bubbles
手顫抖著刺破泡沫，
drifting from the noses of the crowded, compliant fish.
那些泡沫在擁擠而順從的魚鼻子上漂浮。
My hand draws back. I often sign still
我縮回手。我依然常常為魚和爬行動(dòng)物的
for the dark downward and vegetating kingdom
漆黑、沒落而單調(diào)的王國
of the fish and reptile. One morning last March,
嘆息。去年三月的一個(gè)清晨，
I pressed against the new barbed and galvanized
我靠著波士頓公園帶刺、
fence on the Boston Common. Behind their cage,
鍍鋅的新柵欄。在圍欄后面，
yellow dinosaur steamshovels were grunting
黃色恐龍般的蒸汽鏟咕嚕作響
as they cropped up tons of mush and grass
同時(shí)拋出成噸的爛泥和青草
to gouge their underworld garage.
開鑿它們的地下車庫。
Parking spaces luxuriate like civic
在波士頓市中心，停車場像民用
sandpiles in the heart of Boston.
沙堆一般滋長。
a girdle of orange, Puritan-pumpkin colored girders
一條橙色的、清教徒南瓜色的桁梁
braces the tingling Statehouse,
支撐著顫動(dòng)的議會(huì)大廈，
shaking over the excavations, as it faces Colonel Shaw
議會(huì)大廈因開鑿而搖擺，它面對著
and his bell-cheeked Negro infantry
圣·戈登斯搖晃的內(nèi)戰(zhàn)浮雕上
on St. Gaudens' shaking Civil War relief,
肖上校和他的銅鐘臉頰的黑人團(tuán)，
propped by a plank splint against the garage's earthquake.
浮雕被一塊木夾板撐著以頂住來自車庫的地震。
Two months after marching through Boston,
通過波士頓后兩個(gè)月，
half of the regiment was dead;
黑人團(tuán)員陣亡一半；
at the dedication,
在致詞儀式上，
William James could almost hear the bronze Negroes breathe.
威廉·詹姆斯幾乎能聽見青銅黑人在呼吸。
Their monument sticks like a fishbone
紀(jì)念碑如一根魚刺
in the city's throat.
扎在城市的喉嚨。
Its Colonel is a lean
上校那么瘦削
as a compass-needle.
猶如一枚指南針。
He has an angry wrenlike vigilance,
他具有發(fā)怒鷦鷯般的警覺，
a greyhound's gentle tautness;
以及灰狗般溫順的緊張；
he seems to wince at pleasure,
他似乎要隨時(shí)退縮，
and suffocate for privacy.
因自私而窒息。
He is out of bounds now. He rejoices in man's lovely,
如今他已越出邊界。他欣喜于人在選擇生死時(shí)
peculiar power to choose life and die—
美好而奇特的力量——
when he leads his black soldiers to death,
當(dāng)他把黑人士兵領(lǐng)向死亡，
he cannot bend his back.
他不能彎曲背脊。
On a thousand small town New England greens
在新英格蘭一千座小鎮(zhèn)的綠地上
the old white churches hold their air
古老的白色教堂保存著
of sparse, sincere rebellion; frayed flags
微薄而真誠的叛亂氣氛；破損的旗幟
quilt the graveyards of the Grand Army of the Republic
猶如被子蓋住共和國陸海軍軍人會(huì)墓地。
The stone statutes of the abstract Union Soldier
抽象的聯(lián)邦軍戰(zhàn)士石雕
grow slimmer and younger each year—
逐年變得瘦削而年輕——
wasp-waisted, they doze over muskets
他們細(xì)腰如蜂，倚著步槍瞌睡，
and muse through their sideburns...
透過落腮胡子沉思。
Shaw's father wanted no monument
肖的父親需要的不是什么紀(jì)念碑
except the ditch,
而是那條戰(zhàn)壕，
where his son's body was thrown
他兒子的尸體被扔在那里
and lost with his "niggers."
消失在“黑鬼們”中間。
The ditch is nearer.
戰(zhàn)壕在靠近。
There are no statutes for the last war here;
此處沒有上次大戰(zhàn)的紀(jì)念碑；
on Boylston Street, a commercial photograph
在波爾斯頓大街上，一副商業(yè)照片
shows Hiroshima boiling
展示著廣島的煙云
over a Mosler Safe, the "Rock of Ages"
下面是一只莫斯勒保險(xiǎn)柜，“時(shí)代之磐石”
that survived the blast. Space is nearer.
于爆炸中幸存。
when I crouch to my television set,
當(dāng)我俯身打開電視，
the drained faces of Negro school-children rise like balloons.
黑人學(xué)生干枯的臉如氣球飛升。
Colonel Shaw
肖上校
is riding on his bubble,
正騎著他的泡沫，
he waits
等待著
for the blessed break.
幸福的休息。
The Aquarium is gone. Everywhere,
水族館已經(jīng)逝去。無論何處，
giant finned cars nose forward like fish;
巨大的帶鰭的車輛像魚一樣鼻子前伸；
a savage servility
一種野蠻的奴性
slides by on grease.
在油脂上滑過。
