阿九 译
下了三天一刻不歇、不可安慰的雨后，
我考察了屋子的所有房间，
琢磨着死在哪一间里最好。
书房显然是一个选项，
里面有厚实的地毯，舒心的墙面，
软垫加厚的座椅也好过
地下室的楼道上玩偶般的摇椅。
而厨房也具有某种吸引力——
似乎他正在烧水泡茶，
查房者会客气一下，拎着快要熔化的水壶。
还有这个就餐室，
正合适做伏面而终的地方，
在它长桌的一端留下一封写了一半的信；
或者在混合了性爱和睡眠的卧室，
靠着床背坐直了，
一本书滑落在地——
比方说《多洛薇太太》，我还没有读过。
死在地毯上，死在地砖上，
死在石头一样冰凉的地板上——
听上去开始有点像一首民谣，
被一个面色红如煤球的男人在酒吧里唱着。
都是冰冷的雨的错，
它正轻轻打在窗上，
但当它终于停下，
让位于残云和一阵暖风，
当树木站在阳光下浑身滴水，
我就会放下这些阴暗而带着死角的房间，
开车驶上一段乡间小路，
开进世界更大的房间里，
多么辽阔而斑斓，如此盈满墨汁和忧伤——
一条小路穿行于秃树林间，
红黄交缠的色块，
以及十一月这些苦甘难辨的日子。
也许在路边零落的树叶下，
会藏着一窝老鼠，
每一只都不过拇指大小，
一只闭着眼睛的拇指，
一只长着胡须和尾巴的拇指，
每一只都沉思着青草的甜蜜
和生命令人震惊的短暂。
Roomsby Billy Collins
After three days of steady, inconsolable rain,
I walk through the rooms of the house
wondering which would be best to die in.
The study is an obvious choice
with its thick carpet and soothing paint,
its overstuffed chair preferable
to a doll-like tumble down the basement stairs.
And the kitchen has a certain appeal—
it seems he was boiling water for tea,
the inspector will offer, holding up the melted kettle.
Then there is the dining room,
just the place to end up facedown
at one end of its long table in a half-written letter
or the bedroom with its mix of sex and sleep,
upright against the headboard,
a book having slipped to the floor—
make it Mrs. Dolloway, which I have yet to read.
Dead on the carpet, dead on the tiles,
dead on the stone cold floor—
it’s starting to sound like a ballad
sung in a pub by a man with a coal red face.
It’s all the fault of the freezing rain
which is flicking against the windows,
but when it finally lets up
and gives way to broken clouds and a warm breeze,
when the trees stand dripping in the light,
I will quit these dark, angular rooms
and drive along a country road
into the larger rooms of the world,
so vast and speckled, so full of ink and sorrow—
a road that cuts through bare woods
and tangles of red and yellow
bittersweet these late November days.
And maybe under the fallen wayside leaves
there is hidden a nest of mice,
each one no bigger than a thumb,
a thumb with closed eyes,
a thumb with whiskers and a tail,
each one contemplating the sweetness of grass
and startling brevity of life.
