三美不足

2020/04/09 posted in  Sci-Fi

被称作 Sci-fi Poetry 的科幻文学或科幻诗在文学分类上被归为 Speculative Poetry。Speculative 的词意乍看仿佛有推演文学甚至投机文学的意味,实为奇幻,幻想与科幻的诗作。自进入前现代技术微光笼罩的 H.G.Wells 的年代,难懂的科学理论通俗取巧地融入了矛盾四下突起的紧凑生活中;从我们熟知的《时间机器》《隐形人》及其昏暗惊险的故事,再到严肃刚硬的《睡者》,黄金时代《2660年的纽约》《宇宙云雀》,以及曾经被看作低俗猎奇的故事与杂志,远在清末荒江钓叟的《月球殖民》...... Sci-fi 不再局限于反乌托邦,Cyberpunk 与 High Tech Low Life,它渐渐使自己的面貌变得严肃,既想收揽确切历史与硬核科学,又一度促成科学幻想和科学事实的微妙合作。

如果说一部好的科幻小说也偶尔使大脑过载,理论的穿插让虚实打架,那科幻诗呢?是清减剂量后的易服版还是另一个可爱的坑?若加上译诗,在小白的程度下转达这些极难拿捏的文体,不知是否会让语言的歧义与巧合发挥好玩的作用?

下面从不同的地方任意摘抄来的小诗与段落原著,经过斗胆翻译,也许会增添一种乐趣。


O

what am I turning quietly and fast
in the great I am, I am here
I am bristling and crusted stripped and pocked
I am teeming and meaning what am I meaning —
where did I come from what cupped me a whole
my core and my aura where rockets burn through
my poles and my gibbons my beautiful girth
I’m rolling round tundra and steppes and snow
I’m playplace and gut, retina, sisal and gold —
Sarah Westcott, 2012, Where Rockets Burn Through: Contemporary Science Fiction Poems from the UK

O

我正悄然迅速地变成什么
极好的我,伫立在此处
仿佛昆虫身上似的刚毛开始竖立,结茧,破壳又编织了口袋
膨胀的被充斥的我,自信且坚定 —
我从何处来,有什么在我身上刻凿下一个洞
在我的地核与光圈之处,火箭燃烧驰骋而过
我的两极,长臂猿们和那美丽的周长
让我在苔原,阶梯和皑皑白雪上,翻滚而过
我是乐土,脏腑,瞳孔,剑麻和金子 —


Incorrigibly Plural

The network froze from the wrong kind of snow
so they carved up the sky and franchised the clouds
and tempests of tenders, flurries of offers,
brochures in blizzards descended upon us.

Heavenly companies, flocculent liveries:
Cumulo-Western-Coast
Capital-Nimbo-Link
Cirro-Southeastern-Star

gliding like bullet points into the stratosphere,
each with a strategy, mandate, philosophy,
swelling the market of snowflake delivery.

Our cloud is committed to cutting-edge crystals.
The eye of our storm places you at the centre.
Our flakes have been voted the least identical;
from vapour to whiteout they were the most punctual
over the Christmas and New Year period.

In the last fiscal year we shifted a zillion
units of snow, including the state-of-the-art ‘Bendilo’:
dendrical with a hexagonal interlock,

leading to more compact drifts and an authentic
lacing around a bow window. And each metric tonne
of precipitate fun comes with a free scarf
and a kit for the kiddies of snowman accessories:
a carrot, some coal from a genuine steam train,
a pipe, a fedora, a handful of pebbles
for studding a smile into his blank face
like the one we’re committed by charter to place
upon yours.
Simon Barraclough

无可救药的复数大军

网络在一片错误的雪花中冻结
于是他们瓜分了蓝天,垄断了云层
四下弥漫着股票要约收购的骤风急雨
传册如碎纸彩片般纷纷而降

天堂仙境公司们,如咖啡油絮状的泡沫集结般多的制服革履:
积雨云 - 西 - 海岸
首都 - 雨云 - 连线
卷积云 - 东南 - 星号

犹如飞梭,滑翔的弹头扎进平流层,
一个个,身携独自的授命,战略,哲学,
浸淹了递运雪花的市场。

云朵被托付于锋利的钻石,
暴风眼把你困锁在中心。
我们的雪花被票选为最相异别致的,
无论是水汽,泛白,
从圣诞到新年,
它们依旧准点抵达。

旧年度的财政中我们足足揶揄了一兆单位的雪,
以及最先进的 Bendilo,六角形互锁的,齿状的。

孩子的雪人身上佩戴的一套织物,一缕围巾,
一厢蒸汽火车上的一根萝卜,一些煤炭,一把烟斗,一顶呢帽,一抓一把的鹅卵石子
都可以带来一公吨沉淀的快乐
为了在他空白的脸上挤出一抹微笑
就像我们得到特许嵌在你脸上的那一样。


Introduction
By One of the Last Men

This book has two authors, one contemporary with its readers, the other an inhabitant of an age which they would call the distant future. The brain that conceives and writes these sentences lives in the time of Einstein. Yet I, the true inspirer of this book, I who have begotton it upon that brain, I who influence that primitive being’s conception, inhabit an age which, for Einstein, lies in the very remote future.

The actual writer thinks he is merely contriving a work of fiction. Though he seeks to tell a plausible story, he neither believes it himself, nor expects others to believe it. Yet the story is true. A being who you would call a future man has seized the docile but scarcely adequate brain of your contemporary, and is trying to direct its familiar processes for an alien purpose. Thus a future epoch makes contact with your age.
Stapledon, 1972, Last and First Men

引入
两位幸存者中的一位 著
此书确有两位作者。其中一位所处的时空与当代读者齐平,另一位则居住在我们所称的遥远未来。构思并写下这些句子的那位作者生活在爱因斯坦那个时代。而我,这本书真正的启发人,是站在那个大脑的肩上孕育了这本书的。正是我影响了另一位原始人似的作者的概念,住在了爱因斯坦所称的,遥远未来。
那位目前的作者以为自己正在构思一部小说。尽管看似在竭力找寻一个正确合理的故事,却一点也不信服自己,甚至不渴望别人去理解信任这个作品。但确实,这个作品,故事,是真实的。而一个被你们称呼为未来人的生命体,正在逐渐把握你们那捉襟见肘又温顺无比的现代脑的运作规则,以便引导它在将来探测外星生命。至此,你们的纪年将与未来相遇。


Between Planets
The ship was still only thirty days from Earth.
[...]
There was no sense of motion, but he was falling towards those impossible stars, shining there in the dark heart of a moon. No - that was not where they really were, he felt certain. He wished, now that it was far too late, that he had paid more attention to those theories of hyperspace, of transdimensional ducts. To Dave Bowman, they were theories no longer.

Perhaps that monolith on Japetus was hollow.
Clarke, 1986, 2001: A Space Odyssee

在行星之间
船才刚离开地球三十天。
[...]
周遭似乎纹丝不动,但他却坠向那些在月亮黯淡的中心闪烁的行星。不,他几乎肯定,这不是他们身处之地。为时已晚,要是能早点熟知更多超空间理论与多维管道的事就好了。对 Dave Bowman 来说,这些已不再是理论。
也许 Japetus 上的那块巨石本是空心的。