夏爾作品

致以維埃拉·達(dá)·席爾瓦的九種感謝

1：宮殿與房子

巴黎今天完成了。我要生活在這里。我的手臂不再把我的靈魂遠(yuǎn)遠(yuǎn)地拋擲到遠(yuǎn)方。我應(yīng)該在這里。

2：空間里

太陽低飛，低得猶如鳥兒。夜晚熄滅它們倆。我愛它們。

3：真的是她

低沉的夜晚和痛苦折磨的大地。

夜晚，我的葉簇和我的土地。

4：格架

我并不孤獨(dú)，因?yàn)槲冶贿z棄。我孤獨(dú)，因?yàn)槲夜陋?dú)，它那環(huán)繞之墻內(nèi)的杏樹。

5：眾神歸來了

眾神歸來了，同伴。

他們剛剛進(jìn)入這種生活，但在那張開的詞語下面，為了同時折磨我們，那廢止的詞語也歸來了。

6：回音中的阿爾汀

我們在銀河的軀體中奢華的混合，一間最高層的臥室，適合那在別處會凍結(jié)于夜里的我們倆

7：獻(xiàn)給每天直至最后一天的搖籃曲

無數(shù)次，次數(shù)的任何數(shù)字，

人熟睡，被自己的軀體喚醒；

然后一度來臨，僅有一次，

人熟睡，丟失自己的軀體。

8：給屬于我的人

我觸碰那遼闊的蒼天，我能讓它熊熊燃燒。我保留我的寬度，我知道怎樣把它展開。但沒有你那妒忌的蜂群，欲望又有什么價值？沒有草甸的色彩，毛就變得遲鈍。當(dāng)你出現(xiàn)，我的手就會召喚你，我的手的小怪物，依然活躍。然而除了你，還有什么美？……什么美？

9：蘆葦中的鶯

那最是暴露于鳥槍眼睛的樹，并不是適合它的翅膀的樹。那移動極快的人預(yù)先得到警告：它會在沉默中穿過。它那難以捉摸的爪子努力抓，又立即放棄柳樹上的棲息處。但從它在叢生的蘆葦中的降落處，多美的短抒情曲響起！它在這里歌吟，一輪完整的水月，那只鶯重復(fù)：“自由，自由，自由，自由……”

注： ① 葡萄牙抽象派畫家（1908－1992）。

NINE THANKS FORVIEIRA DA SILVA

I： Palaces and Houses

Paris is finished today. I'll live here. My arm no longer flings my soul faraway into the distance. I belong.

II： In Space

The sun was flying low， as low as the bird. Night extinguished them both. I loved them.

IlI： It Is Really She

Earth of low night and torments.

Night， my foliage and my glebe.

IV ： Grillwork

I am not alone because I am abandoned. I am alone because I am alone， almond within the walls of its enclosure.

V： The Gods Have Returned

The gods have returned， companions.

They've just now entered this life； but beneath the word that opens， the word that revokes has come back too， in order to torment us together.

VI： Artine in the Echo

Our sumptuous intermingling in the body of the milky way， a bedroom at the summit for the two of us， who elsewhere in the night would freeze.

Vll： Lullaby for Everyday until the Last

Numerous times， any number of times， Man falls asleep， he is waked by his body； Then comes a time， only one time， Man falls asleep and loses his body.

Vlll： To Those Who Are Mine

I touch on the expanse and I can set it blazing. I retain my breadth， I know how to unfold it. But of what value is desire without your jealous swarm？ The buttercup is dulled without the meadows' hue. When you appear， my hand will summon you， the little monster of my hand， still lively. But， apart from you， what beauty？ ......what beauty？

IX： The Warbler in the Reeds

The tree most exposed to the shotgun's eye is not a tree for her wing. The quicksilver one is forewarned： she will pass through in silence. Her fugitive claw grapples and gives up at once a perch in the willow. But from her landing place in the clustered reeds， what cavatinas！ It is here that she sings. As the whole world knows.

Summer， the river， spaces， lovers hidden away， a whole water-moon， the warbler repeats，“Free， free， free， free……