By Anthony Hecht
安東尼·赫克特
Anthony Hecht 1923-2004
美國當代詩歌的重要代表,1968年普利策詩歌獎獲得者。著有《石頭的召喚》(1954)、《七宗死罪》(1958)、《艱難時世》(1967)、《威尼斯晚禱》(1979)、《對四種聲音的愛》(1983)、《透明人》(1990)、《墓間的飛行》(1996)、《黑暗與光明》(2001)以及《晚年詩選》(2005)等十余部詩集。

猶如一襲曳地的絲綢,光明
懸掛在橄欖樹上
當白晝淡而無味的酒
飲至所剩無幾:
大片的灰色出現
上升,夜晚來臨。
遠處的燈光依然閃亮。
仿佛降落的火花灑在各處
在漆黑的夜晚入睡,他們似乎
置身于最舒適的黑暗
直到晨禱時一縷羞怯的曦光
將他們變得蒼白,
猶如年長羸弱之輩
已經熬過了整個夜晚,
冷漠的眉毛和沉默的嘴唇,
對他們而言,上升的陽光
承擔了他們的暗淡,
在他們失敗的時刻放射光芒。
“The Darkness and the Light Are Both Alike to Thee”— Psalms 139:12
Like trailing silks, the light
Hangs in the olive trees
As the pale wine of day
Drains to its very lees:
Huge presences of gray
Rise up, and then its night.
Distantly lights go on.
Scattered like fallen sparks
Bedded in peat, they seem
Set in the plushest darks
Until a timid gleam
Of matins turns them wan,
Like the elderly and frail
Whove lasted through the night,
Cold brows and silent lips,
For whom the rising light
Entails their own eclipse,
Brightening as they fail.