理查德·加西亚作品

◎董继平 译

从曼扎尼塔湖寄来的明信片

树木都是玻璃制成的， 而且活着。 事实上只有一棵树。 它从湖里升起来， 一座深红色与黄色的巨塔。 它以空气和那漂浮在水中的塑料垫子为食。 当我们抵达的时候， 我只是独自一人。 那怎么可能呢？ 在我们匆忙整理行装的时候， 我肯定没有带上你就开车离开了。 我能想象， 当我们的车尾灯渐渐消失在黑暗中， 你在黎明前的光芒中站在车道上， 感到惊讶， 或许觉得好笑。 你转身回去玩智力游戏了吗？ 明天我要尝试去钓鱼。 他们说这里的鱼也是玻璃制成的。 唯一对它们行之有效的诱饵就是微小的三角形镜子， 每面镜子表面都蚀刻着一个数字或字母。 弄清楚哪个数字或字母对哪个时辰有效， 可能是一种挑战。 但当地人说， 日落之前的一小时， 一个在表面上用曳绳垂钓因此创造出一个V 的小1号， 始终在短暂然而狂乱的时刻发挥作用。

POSTCARD FROM LAKE MANZANITA

The trees here are made of glass， and they are alive. Actually，there is only one tree. It rises out of the lake， a huge scarlet and yellow tower. It feeds on air and plastic cushions that float in the water. When we arrived I was alone. How is that possible? I must have， in our haste to pack， driven off without you. I can picture you standing in the driveway in the predawn light， surprised， or perhaps amused, as the tail-lights of our car recede in the dark. Did you turn and go back to your puzzle? Tomorrow I will try fishing.They say the fish here are also made of glass. The only bait that works on them is tiny, triangular mirrors, each with a number or letter etched into its surface. Figuring out which number or letter is effective at which hour can be a challenge. But locals say that a small #1,trolled on the surface so it creates a V, always works for a few brief but frantic moments, one hour after sunset.

从图书馆火灾寄来的明信片

底比斯的一位狄俄尼索斯写的一卷关于多普勒效应的古书。一本打开时变成风筝的书。 据说， 那只风筝的颜色始终都跟它飞上去的天空相同。 一本预测未来的书。 他们说它随着2010 年而结束。 丧失了。 全都丧失在图书馆火灾中了。 导游说他彻夜不眠，对他的妻子读我的诗。 他咀嚼的口香糖并没有掩饰住他的气息中的茴香烈酒气味。 他从前是奴隶， 所采用的名字是“弗里·曼·雷伊”。 甚至有一本关于冲倒罗德岛巨像的波浪的书。 我没有你就穿过废墟漫游， 希望你在这里， 也希望我们是陌生人。 我喜欢前面的那张图片， 你呢？ 那本展开的书， 三根钉住书页的屋面钉， 火焰。

POSTCARD FROM THE LIBRARY FIRE

A scroll on the Doppler effect written by one Dionysus of Thebes.A book， that when opened， became a kite. It is said that the kite was always the same color as the sky it was flown in. A book that predicted the future. They say it ended with the year 2010. Lost. All lost in the library fire. The tour guide says he stayed up all night reading my poems to his wife. The gum he is chewing does not mask the ouzo on his breath. A former slave， his adopted name is Free Man Ray. There was even a book on the history of the wave that toppled the colossus at Rhodes. Wandering though the ruins without you I wish you were here and that we were strangers. I like the picture on the front， do you? The splayed book， the three roofing nails pinning the pages back， the flames.

玩扑克的狗诗歌讲习班

我领导这个诗歌讲习班， 它因为像反向发生的法国大革命而著名。 我的才智像在平静的飓风眼里骑三轮车的孩子而流淌。 然而学生们盯着我， 仿佛我是一部谋杀后自杀的慢动作电影。 软百叶窗的光与影， 整整一周都把监牢铁栏拖拽到我的脸上。 我宣布，所有武器和现金都在桌上。 很快， 这个诗歌讲习班看起来就像赌场密室里歹徒们玩的一场扑克游戏。 我们拿出了哈瓦那雪茄。 然后，我们变成了玩扑克的狗。 我是一只柯利犬。 大多数学生是杂种狗； 其中一只——乔克， 竖起一只耳朵， 又耷拉一只耳朵。 但巴西尔， 具有史诗风格的诗人， 是一只俄罗斯猎狼犬。 他带着单片眼镜。 我们决定摆出姿势， 以著名诗人的群像照相。 作为柯利犬， 也作为玩扑克的狗诗歌讲习班的领导， 我得是华尔特·惠特曼。 莫， 一只长着哈巴狗之脸的吉娃娃和斗牛犬的杂交犬， 是埃米莉·狄金森。

THE POKER-PLAYING DOG POETRY WORKSHOP

I was leading the poetry workshop that was famous for being like the French Revolution happening in reverse. My wit flowed like a child riding a tricycle in the calm eye of a hurricane. But the students stared at me， as if I were a slow motion film of a murder-suicide.The light and shadows of an entire week of Venetian blinds dragged its prison bars across my face. All weapons and cash on the table， I declared. Soon the poetry workshop looked like a mobsters' poker game in the back room of a casino. We brought out the Havanas. Then we became poker playing dogs. I was a collie. Most of the students were mutts; one， Jock， had one ear up and one down. But Basil， a poet in the epic mode， was a borzoi. He wore a monocle. We decided to pose for a photo in a tableau of famous poets. As a collie， and leader of the Poker-Playing Dog Poetry Workshop， I got to be Walt Whitman.Mo， a pug-faced chihuahua-bulldog mix， was Emily Dickinson.

从天体海滩寄来的明信片

海滩赤身裸体。 没有沙。 没有鹅卵石。 没有页岩。 没有石头。波浪仿佛感到羞愧， 短暂地滚涌上来， 就在抵达海滩之前的那一刻又转身退回去。 上面有三只鸥鸟的骨架像活动雕塑， 仿佛悬挂在风中。 据说， 要是你在这片海滩上睡着了， 那么， 你就会在你的梦中醒来， 并停留在那里。

POSTCARD FROM A NUDE BEACH

The beach is naked. No sand. No pebbles. No shale. No stones.The waves, as if they were ashamed, roll up to it tentatively, and just before they reach the shore, they turn back. Above, seeming to hang in the wind like mobiles, the skeletons of three gulls. It is said that if you should fall asleep on this beach you’ d wake up in your dream and stay there.