木窗框
文/露西·塔帕洪索
译/倪大也
清晨的阳光穿过小厨房的木窗，
它温柔的光芒几乎让我忘记了咖啡，
但我没有。咖啡的深沉香气
与隐匿的相思树间，鸟鸣的碎音交织。
一只小鸟轻落在木制晾衣架的横梁上，
细小的脑袋左右晃动，仿佛感知到我的注视，
它透过窗格与我对望。
片刻凝视后，我们各自移开目光，
然后，它振翅飞入清冷的晨风。
基奥瓦族的朋友说，鸟的到来
是逝去亲人的灵魂前来探望。
于是，我再次想起玛丽——
我的挚友，我的姐妹，
那些节日、舞会，和旅途中的岁月。
我们驶过陶斯唯一的大街，
匆忙赶去超市，为节庆补充最后的必需品，
或是去沃尔玛购买丧礼用的白色蜡烛。
有时，我们拖着沉重的塑料袋，
穿过乡道，把它们丢进镇上的垃圾场。
哦，姐妹，这座小镇藏满了我们长久的回忆，
那些从年轻时便开始的姐妹情谊，
那是上个世纪的事了，仿佛很远，又如此清晰。
如今，这座静谧的小屋，被高大的榆树和棉白杨环抱，
它们裸露的枝桠，在深蓝的天空下突显着冷峻的棕色。
每隔几周，薄雪轻轻落下，
洒在赭色的平顶屋上，
那些房屋如同扎根的沉默石块，牢牢地镶嵌在大地。
厚重的土坯墙外，一片静谧覆盖了这片土地。
回忆在空气中游弋，我在厨房里为炖汤切菜，
咖啡和烤面包的香气在拱形门廊回荡。
炉火的暖意，和着食材翻滚的声响，柔和了一切。
窗玻璃上，炖汤的蒸汽蒙上一层轻纱。
接下来，只是等待。啜饮咖啡，看雪花一层层
覆盖屋顶、树木、篱笆和停着的车。
我蜷缩在这安详的记忆之茧里，
所有的对话和笑声，似乎都被雪封存。
在某个北方的小山坡上，隐隐传来狗的叫声，
或许它们正欢快地奔跑，在新雪间嬉戏。
不远处的村庄里，你的家人们正围聚在火旁，
翻动着锅里的红辣椒汤，
桌上已摆满土豆沙拉，
还有切好的烤面包片，
温暖像从前一样延续。
原诗：
Wooden Window Frames
Luci Tapahonso
The morning sun streams through the little kitchen’s 
wooden panes; its luminescence tempts me to forego coffee. 
But I don’t. The dark coffee scent melds with the birds’
chirping along the hidden acacia. Then, a small bird
alights on the cross of the wooden clothesline. 
Its tiny head turns from side to side, then as if sensing me, 
it gazes at me through a window square. 
We ponder each other, then remember our manners, 
and it flies off into the clean, cold air. My Kiowa friends say a visit from a bird
is the spirit of a departed loved one.
I think again of Marie, my friend, my comadre – 
the many feast days, powwows, and trips we shared. 
We cruised down Taos’s one main street,
and rushed to Smith’s grocery for last-minute necessities, 
or Walmart for the white cylinder candles for wakes. 
We hauled huge, bulging bags to the town dump.Oh, sister, this entire town brims with memories
of our long sisterhood, since our early twenties 
when we were young mothers, 
but that was in the last century.This quiet casita is surrounded by tall stands 
of elm and cottonwood trees, their bare, brown
branches stark against the deep, blue sky.Every other week, snow falls in thin waves
onto the flat ochre houses 
that seem anchored to the ground.
Outside of these thick adobe walls, a stillness settles upon everything.
As memories drift all around, I gather ingredients for a stew,
scents of coffee and toast linger around the arched doorway, 
and the warm air in the kitchen lightens the chopping of vegetables. 
Soon, the windowpanes are damp from the simmering stew.All there is now, is to wait, sip coffee, and watch the snow
fall in layers on the roofs, trees, fences, and cars.  I am in a serene cocoon of memories. 
All our conversations and laughter are silent now. 
Somewhere north of here, dogs bark playfully, 
probably romping in the fresh snow. 
Just up the road at the pueblo, your family gathers.
They replenish the fire, stir pots of red chile 
and place potato salad and platters 
of sliced oven bread on the table.
这首诗的原作者是 Luci Tapahonso，一位来自纳瓦霍民族的著名诗人和作家。她的作品以丰富的文化背景、细腻的情感和对生活的深刻洞察著称。
原文发表于2024年11月28日的《每日诗歌》，由美国诗人学院出版。 |
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