致忧愁的人

彼处是过往之物:撒克森人
坚忍的剑和他黑铁的格律。

放逐拉厄耳忒斯之子的
海域和岛屿,波斯天空中
镀金的月亮和那无穷无尽的
两座花园,哲学和历史,
记忆的墓葬里埋没的黄金
和阴影中茉莉花的香气。

那一切都无关紧要。写诗
这甘心承受的操练救不了你,
梦的水域和那颗星星也不行,
它在荒废之夜将黎明遗忘。

唯有一个女人是你的牵挂,
和旁人无异,但恰恰就是她。

——《致忧愁的人》博尔赫斯|陈东飚 译


There lies what once was: the stubborn sword
of the Saxon and its steel metric,

the seas and the islands of exile
of Laertes' son, the golden
moon of the Persian and the endless gardens
of philosophy and history,
the sepulchral gold of the memory
and in the shadow, the smell of the jasmines.

And none of it matters. The resigned
exercising of the verse doesn't save you
nor do the waters of the dream or the star
which forgets dawn in the razed night.

A single woman is your care,
she's just like the others, but she is herself.

——《To the Sad One》Jorge Luis Borges|Jose translator