诗人曰：世界正在倾斜

海外文苑

The above was published in New York newspaper " Compact News" edition #891

本文发刊纽约【综合新闻报】第891期

汉译：佩英（Translated by Christine Chen）

大卫·艾格尔顿 (David Eggleton,)新西兰诗人和作家，目前担任《Landfall Review Online》（《登陆 在线评论 》）主编。他曾获新西兰桂冠诗人。其诗选《The Wilder Years: Selected Poems》（《狂野岁月：诗选》）于2021年由奥塔哥大学出版社出版；《Respirator: A Laureate Collection 2019–2022》（《呼吸器：2019–2022桂冠诗集》）于2023年由奥塔哥大学出版社出版。2025年，其诗集《Lifting the Island: Poems》（《托起这座岛：诗歌》）由美国红母鸡出版社（Red Hen Press）出版。

献给加布里埃尔风暴之歌

驱车远行，
一路开到天涯，
最终会抵达一个地方——
那里只有“气候变化”之类的空谈。
乘私人飞机当然更快，
可亿万富翁说，他们还没到过；
企业巨头也不相信，
自己有一天真的会到达。

那里，温室气体只是滚烫空气，
地球根本不在乎
你是否还活在这里。

再放飞一枚气象气球吧，
撞向死寂的月亮。
你最喜欢的河流，
现在还敢下水游泳吗？
已经有毒，
抑或一触即燃？

再度地球日。
冒着喧闹，
而世界各地的原始森林
早已被连根拔起，
只为腾出地方，
种更多的棕榈油。

城市规划者，
抱着“草坪修得越整齐越好”的思维，
有的醉眼朦胧，
有的啜着淡而无味的茶，
眼睁睁看着洪水漫过城市。

赤道仿佛越来越宽，
奥克兰也越来越多土地泡在水里。
世界在下滑，在倾斜。

昔日缓慢移动的冰川，
如今像一只急着赶路的骆驼，
一路向着炙热的终点奔去。

好好享受这趟旅程吧。
只是如果你感到厌倦，
很抱歉——
我们已经找不到紧急刹车闸 。

大地之母在融化的冰层下呻吟，
沙袋垒起的郊区城堡摇摇欲坠；
住在里面的人，
纸面上都是百万富翁，
却连搬家的钱都无。

漂浮的海绵是什么？
不过是一团纠结的头发。

几乎每隔一天，
就有一场异常风暴。
这样的日子不能再继续。
我们说：
必须改变。

在碳汇深处，
洪水臭气熏天地奔涌。
一个月的雨量，
如今集中在一次暴雨里，
十分钟倾泻而尽，
不给片刻寻找庇护的时间。

洪水甚至从管道倒灌回来。
所谓现代生活，
一切都要算利润与成本：
那就把水统统抽到街上吧，
代价又有什么关系？

千年一遇的洪水，
如今竟成了“下周再见”的寻常。
灾难的规模，
足以媲美最夸张的灾难大片——
只是这一次，
没有好莱坞式的结局。

泥泞、腐朽的大地，
绿植被被践踏成浆；
残枝败木堵塞水流，
泥浆漫成一片。

霍克斯湾的灾区，
人们甚至与移动厕所为伍；
一切脱离轨道，
进入暴雨后的漫长重建。

而这里唯一的“总理”，
是那台推动泥浆的泥泵机。

Ode to Cyclone Gabrielle

If you get in your car, and drive very far,
eventually you come to Climate Blah, Blah, Blah.
It’s quicker by private jet,
but billionaires claim not to have got there yet,
and corporates don’t expect they ever will.
It‘ s where greenhouse gases are a lot of hot air,
and the planet doesn’t really care if you are here.
Get ready to send up another weather balloon
to bounce off the dead moon.
Is your favourite river still swimmable —
or is it toxic and flammable?
It’s Earth Day again,
and crowds are raucous in the rain,
with ancient forests extirpated root and branch
from all reaches of the globe,
for more palm-tree-oil groves,
as town planners with a mowed-lawn mentality,
blinded by beer goggles or sipping insipid tea,
watch floodwaters taking over.
The width of the equator has become greater,
and Auckland‘ s underwater a lot.
It’s on the slide. It’s tipping.
What was once glacials
moves at the speed of a camel, hot-to-trot.
Enjoy the ride, but if you’re feeling bored,
we’ve lost the emergency cord.
Mother Earth gurgles beneath ice-melt,
and sandbagged suburban castles wobble;
each is the home of a paper millionaire,
who cannot afford to move from there.
That floating sponge is made of matted hair.
There’s another freak storm every other day;
things can’ t afford to stay this way;
things have got to change, we say
Down in the carbon sink,
the water goes like stink.
A month’s supply of rain is arriving in one block
to fall for just ten solid minutes,
and to fall before you have time to shelter.
There’s overflow pouring back up the pipes,
as what we call modern life calculates profit and loss,
so just pump it all over the street,
and let’s not worry about the cost,
as the one-in-a-thousand-year flood
just became the one next week,
promising destruction of disaster movie proportions,
with no Hollywood ending.
In the boggy, loggy panorama

of land beaten to a green pulp,
with choked-up swash of slash,
there’s slurry that’s turned to slop.
They have met their portaloo
on the battlefields of Hawkes Bay,
and they have veered off the rails
into hard rain recovery country.
The only Prime Minister
is the prime mover of mud.

探险家道格拉斯先生

鸟鸣此起彼伏，传遍海岸。
你穿行群岛，听海浪在远方翻涌。
铁锅蒸汽升起，群山在雾中起伏；
海图上一片空白，
却标出了这里。

怀表链轻轻垂落，
任时光一寸寸流走。
以天空中盘旋的猛禽辨认方向。
一只几维鸟低头掘土，
长喙便是它的手杖。

一道雨中彩虹，
究竟在诉说什么？

曾微不足道，
不过是一声甲虫的轻鸣；
风筝骤然颤响，
你随之跃起，
却又跌进自己摊开的倒影。

身体一半开始腐朽，
灵魂却愈发不安，
飞向远山，
静静栖在山巅，
俯视脚下腐躯。

Mr Explorer Douglas

Bird cries soar from shore to shore.
You compass islands to hear surf roll.
Above iron pot's steam, ranges writhe.
Blank spaces on charts mark this place.
My watch chain dangles time away.
I take bearings from raptors on the wing.
A kiwi digs with beak walking stick.
What does that rainbowed rain declare?
I was no more than a beetle click,
when I leapt up as a kite rattles,
and fell into my sprawled reflection.
When half of me rotted away, my soul
grew restless and flew to a mountain,
and perched there silent, over carrion.


红宝石Ruby

红宝石，是抑或不是红宝石？
这才是问题所在。
一抹宝石般的红，
晕染在雨后的水洼；
若时光宽裕，天地辽阔，
可寻得更多红宝石，
反复寻觅于石头与言辞之间。

利爪般的扣环将它牢牢攫住，
鞋跟清脆，三声轻响；
珠光倏然隐去，
雨水浸透的 新西兰铁树红花。
圣所幽微的光，
念珠温润的微芒，
帝国掠夺来的珍宝，
最终碾作满地璀璨的碎屑。

镶满宝石的棺椁化作残垣，
石榴裂成两半；
批改笔尖的一抹朱红，
夜空烟火细密的光丝，
一串串亮起的灯火，
锋利的切面转动，
折射出变幻的光芒。

热风扇动，吹旺余烬，
野樱桃泛起深红；
冷酷的目光灼然逼视，
法律的封蜡猩红而庄严，

刀锋滴落寒光；
龙血，
也是斟入玻璃杯的葡萄酒，
浮着深沉的红。
一个无瑕的瞬间——
色泽丰盈，意味深长，
亦是最圆满、最浓郁的收束。

Ruby

Ruby or not ruby, aye, there’s the rub,
a rubious light smeared in rain puddles,
rueful, had we but world enough and time
to more rubies find, stone in paraphrase.
Held by claw-clasp, three clicks of slipper heels,
bling exed-out, or sodden rātā blossom,
sanctuary glow, rosary bead gleam,
loot of empires crunched to spangled candy.
Gemmed casket rubble, pomegranates halved,
scrawled red tip of a correction marker,
night's firework filaments, string bulbs lit up,
cut-true axes turning their refractions.
Heat's fanned ember, wild cherry rubescence,
cruel eyes' glare, law's wax seal, dripping knife,
dragon's blood, sheen of wine poured in a glass –
flawless moment, fuller, richer finish.

诗歌赏析：

大卫·艾格尔顿这三组诗具有鲜明的新西兰地域意识与当代人文关怀。《献给加布里埃尔风暴之歌》以讽刺、黑色幽默书写气候危机与洪灾现实，批判人类对环境的漠视；《探险家道格拉斯先生》融入海岸、群岛、几维鸟、山峦等意象，呈现探索精神与生命思考；《红宝石》则以丰富的“红”意象串联历史、自然与文明记忆。三诗语言活跃、意象密集，兼具批判性与诗性，尤其第一首与新西兰现实高度契合。(佩英）
Editorials:

David Eggleton's three poems possess a distinctive sense of New Zealand place and a strong contemporary humanistic consciousness. Ode to Cyclone Gabrielle uses satire and black humour to portray the climate crisis and the realities of flooding, while criticising humanity’s indifference to environmental destruction. Mr Explorer Douglas incorporates images of coastlines, islands, kiwi birds, mountains, and the sea, expressing both the spirit of exploration and reflections on life. Ruby connects history, nature, and civilisational memory through a rich network of “red” imagery. Together, the poems are vivid in language and dense in imagery, combining poetic imagination with social criticism. In particular, Ode to Cyclone Gabrielle resonates most strongly with contemporary New Zealand realities.(Christine Chen)