酷暑：宜见你，宜宽衣

夏天属于散文和柠檬，属于裸露和慵懒，

属于关于回归的想像的永恒闲置

属于稀见的长笛和赤裸的双足，还有八月的卧室

卧室中绞结的床单和周日的盐，啊，小提琴！

如果我把夏天的所有黄昏揉在一起，它将是

一个月的街道手风琴和洒水车

横陈在尘土中，而微小的阴影正从我身边逃走。

音乐一翕一张，在“我的意大利”餐厅，在布利克街上，

那些你好再见，那些安东尼奥，那些小孩要水喝的叫喊

在纸张之流中撕裂着玫瑰色的天空；

这是鼻孔里的黄昏和水的气味

倾泻在脏乱的街道上让你口干舌噪

在你的脑中召集起岛屿和柠檬。

这里是哈德逊，就像燃烧的火海。

我要在夏天的热浪中脱掉你的衣服，

我要在笑声中干燥你透湿的肉体，如果你能到来。

作者 / ［圣卢西亚］德里克·沃尔科特

翻译 / 光诸

Bleecker Street, Summer

Summer for prose and lemons, for nakedness and languor,

for the eternal idleness of the imagined return,

for rare flutes and bare feet, and the August bedroom

of tangled sheets and the Sunday salt, ah violin!

When I press summer dusks together, it is

a month of street accordions and sprinklers

laying the dust, small shadows running from me.

It is music opening and closing, Italia mia, on Bleecker,

ciao, Antonio, and the water-cries of children

tearing the rose-coloured sky in streams of paper;

it is dusk in the nostrils and the smell of water

down littered streets that lead you to no water,

and gathering islands and lemons in the mind.

There is the Hudson, like the sea aflame.

I would undress you in the summer heat,

and laugh and dry your damp flesh if you came.

BYDEREK WALCOTT