貓，夏尔•波德莱尔

 来读读法国象征主义诗歌的祖师爷和现代主义诗歌的先驱写的三首猫咪诗吧, (中文翻译都很差劲）/Three poems of cats by Charles Baudelaire！

夏尔•波德莱尔

猫

来，猫咪，来到我热恋的心，

    收起你脚上的利爪，

让我沉溺于你那双糅合

    金属和玛瑙的美丽眸子。

当我的手指悠闲地抚摸

    你的头和有弹性的背，

当我的手愉悦地陶醉于

    触抚你荷电的躯体，

就瞧见我的精神女人。她的眼神

    像你，可爱的动物，

深邃而冷漠，锐截似鱼叉，

    从头到脚

一种微妙气质，一股危险幽香，

浮荡在她褐色躯体四周。

　　　　　　　　　　　　　　

莫　渝译

。。。。

猫

来，美猫，依偎我多情心房；

请把利爪缩回脚掌，

让我在你的美目中徜徉，

它闪烁青铜玛瑙的光芒。

当我的十指悠然地爱抚

你的头和弹性的脊梁，

当我摩挲你带电的身体，

双手便陶醉愉悦之乡，

想起我的女人，那目光，

宠猫，竟然和你酷像，

深邃冰冷，锋利似投枪，

从头至踵，弥散着

灵气和危险的芳香，

在棕色娇躯旁飘荡。

猫

严肃的学者，还有热烈的情侣，

在其成熟的季节都同样喜好

强壮又温柔的猫，家室的骄傲，

像他们一样地怕冷，简出深居。

它们是科学、也是情欲的友伴，

寻觅幽静，也寻觅黑夜的恐惧；

黑暗会拿来当作音乐的坐骑，

假使它们能把骄傲供认驱遣。

它们沉思冥想，那高贵的姿态

像卧在僻静处的大狮身女怪，

仿佛沉睡在无穷无尽的梦里；

丰腴的腰间一片神奇的光芒，

金子的碎片，还有细细的沙粒

又使神秘的眸闪出朦胧星光。

郭宏安译

。。。

猫咪

一

它漫步在我的脑海里，

俨然在自家一般惬意，

强健温情迷人的美猫，

喵喵叫时似悄无声息，

音色多轻柔，多隐蔽；

或低嚎，或平心静气，

总是低沉而富有情义。

此乃它的魅力和秘密。

猫叫声均匀地浸润在

我最阴冷暗淡的心底，

充溢我心似隽永诗句，

又像春药般令我欣喜。

它既能平复剧痛，

又治愈种种痴迷；

它可以不着一辞，

却蕴涵无穷隽语。

是的，完美的琴虽无

琴弓，却震撼我心底，

请更庄重地拨动心弦，

演奏更加动人的旋律，

你的叫声呵，猫咪，

神秘、圣洁、神奇，

一切仿佛天使附体，

精妙，和谐，统一！

二

它金褐相间的毛皮

弥散着曼妙的香气，

某夜我仅摩挲一次，

浓香再也挥之不去。

这宠物精灵自由来去；

它裁断、主宰和安排

自己领地的一切事理，

它是神灵，还是仙女？

当我双眼像受到磁力，

便将目光顺从地转向

这只我最宠爱的猫咪，

又在内心里审视自己，

在它那苍白的眸子里，

我惊奇地发现了火炬，

这明灯般活的猫眼石

凝视着我，脉脉无语。

刘楠祺 译

Cats

They are alike, prim scholar and perfervid lover:

When comes the season of decay, they both decide

Upon sweet, husky cats to be the household pride;

Cats choose, like them, to sit, and like them, shudder.

Like partisans of carnal dalliance and science,

They search for silence and the shadowings of dread;

Hell well might harness them as horses for the dead,

If it could bend their native proudness in compliance.

In reverie they emulate the noble mood

Of giant sphinxes stretched in depths of solitude

Who seem to slumber in a never-ending dream;

Within their fertile loins a sparkling magic lies;

Finer than any sand are dusts of gold that gleam,

Vague starpoints, in the mystic iris of their eyes.

The Cat

Come, my fine cat, against my loving heart;

Sheathe your sharp claws, and settle.

And let my eyes into your pupils dart

Where agate sparks with metal.

Now while my fingertips caress at leisure

Your head and wiry curves,

And that my hand’s elated with the pleasure

Of your electric nerves,

I think about my woman — how her glances

Like yours, dear beast, deep-down

And cold, can cut and wound one as with lances;

Then, too, she has that vagrant

And subtle air of danger that makes fragrant

Her body, lithe and brown.

Cats

No one but indefatigable lovers and old

Chilly philosophers can understand the true

Charm of these animals serene and potent, who

Likewise are sedentary and suffer from the cold.

They are the friends of learning and of sexual bliss;

Silence they love, and darkness, where temptation breeds.

Erebus would have made them his funereal steeds,

Save that their proud free nature would not stoop to this.

Like those great sphinxes lounging through eternity

In noble attitudes upon the desert sand,

They gaze incuriously at nothing, calm and wise.

Their fecund loins give forth electric flashes, and

Thousands of golden particles drift ceaselessly,

Like galaxies of stars, in their mysterious eyes.