Eva H. D. 〈骨狗〉2021.9.15

　　把查理 · 考夫曼執導的《我想結束這一切》看完。前些的日子是農曆七月那時我看得毛骨悚然，中斷多次。這是非典型的恐怖片（我是不看恐怖片），沒有鬼魂沒有突來的聲響嚇人，全靠氣氛與演員的情緒渲染，探討著關於愛情、疾病、死亡與寂寞，相當喜歡這部片。

　　電影的開頭，一輛行駛在暴風雪裡的車，女主角陰鬱地對著男主角唸讀這首詩（唸讀詩的影片附於留言處），我很喜歡，多倫多詩人Eva H. D. 的詩——Bonedog，於是隨手翻了一下，拙譯如下：


Eva H. D.〈骨狗〉　　　2021.9.15，試譯

回家真是要命
無論狗狗舔不舔你的臉；
無論有沒有妻子，還是只有
狀似妻子的寂寞應你的門。
回家真是孤單得要命，
你想起
那壓抑的氣壓在你剛剛離去之處你滿懷
喜愛地想起來了因為一切會更糟，你
一踏進門。

你想起害蟲
正死命抓住草莖，
車程如此漫長，停駛
在路旁求援──霜淇淋，
異常古怪的雲堆、預料中的
靜寂，因為你根本不想回去
回家
太駭人了。

遐想的家庭式靜默，雲
只招來不滿，無所作為。這樣的雲，
一事無成的雲，
實際上是可疑的，
不同於你留下的布料所製。
你是從一匹千差萬別的雲布裡剪出來的，
被退回，
被剩下來的你，
不幸在月光下碰見，
不情願地，你回來了，
錯的節點上你懈怠，
一身髒衣
憔悴的，破爛抹布。

你回到家，一片陌生
登月的異域感；現在
地球的引力開始加乘
疊加成數倍的引力，
鬆垮你的鞋帶
坍垮你的雙肩
雕刻你的前額，前額
發愁的詩節愈來愈深。
返家的沉重越沉越深，
接通明日焦乾的枯井
只靠一縷虛弱的……

無論如何……

日復日機械又機械的日子，襲擊
你哀嘆，某時某刻，或許他人如你一樣……

嗯……
無論如何……
你回來了。

太陽升起又墜下
猶如疲乏的妓女，
天氣動也不動猶如
斷肢
你的年華垂垂老矣。除了你體內
鹽浪的潮落潮起，萬物
如如不動。
你的視覺日漸朦朧。
隨身攜帶屬於你的天氣，
巨藍鯨，
骷髏般的黑暗。

你回來
你以X光的視線掃描。
瞳眼已經飢腸轆轆。
帶著突變的異能返家
回到骨之屋。
觸目所及，
一切：盡是骨。



Eva H. D.〈Bonedog〉

Coming home is terrible
whether the dogs lick your face or not;
whether you have a wife
or just a wife-shaped loneliness waiting for you.
Coming home is terribly lonely,
so that you think
of the oppressive barometric pressure
back where you have just come from
with fondness,
because everything’s worse
once you’re home.

You think of the vermin
clinging to the grass stalks,
long hours on the road,
roadside assistance and ice creams,
and the peculiar shapes of
certain clouds and silences
with longing because you did not want to return.
Coming home is
just awful.

And the home-style silences and clouds
contribute to nothing
but the general malaise.
Clouds, such as they are,
are in fact suspect,
and made from a different material
than those you left behind.
You yourself were cut
from a different cloudy cloth,
returned,
remaindered,
ill-met by moonlight,
unhappy to be back,
slack in all the wrong spots,
seamy suit of clothes
dishrag-ratty, worn.

You return home
moon-landed, foreign;
the Earth’s gravitational pull
an effort now redoubled,
dragging your shoelaces loose
and your shoulders
etching deeper the stanza
of worry on your forehead.
You return home deepened,
a parched well linked to tomorrow
by a frail strand of…

Anyway…

You sigh into the onslaught of identical days.
One might as well, at a time…

Well…
Anyway…
You’re back.

The sun goes up and down
like a tired whore,
the weather immobile
like a broken limb
while you just keep getting older.
Nothing moves but
the shifting tides of salt in your body.
Your vision blears.
You carry your weather with you,
the big blue whale,
a skeletal darkness.

You come back
with X-ray vision.
Your eyes have become a hunger.
You come home with your mutant gifts
to a house of bone.
Everything you see now,
all of it: bone.


電影中女主角在外頭下著風雪的車內唸讀〈骨狗〉一詩
https://youtu.be/JjdhgyLxkJo