by Elizabeth Jennings
You are confronted with yourself. Each year
The pouches fill, the skin is uglier.
You give it all unflinchingly. You stare
Into yourself, beyond. Your brush’s care
Runs with self-knowledge. Here
Is a humility at one with craft.
There is no arrogance. Pride is apart
From this self-scrutiny. You make light drift
The way you want. Your face is bruised and hurt
But there is still love left.
Love of the art and others. To the last
Experiment went on. You stared beyond
Your age, the times. You also plucked the past
And tempered it. Self-portraits understand,
And old age can divest,
With truthful changes, us of fear of death.
Look, a new anguish. There, the bloated nose,
The sadness and the joy. To paint’s to breathe,
And all the darknesses are dared. You chose
What each must reckon with
倫柏朗的自畫(huà)像
譯/小蝦人
你直面自己
每年, 松弛的皮膚愈加不堪入目
你毫不退避
深深地凝視, 尋覓
畫(huà)筆下流動(dòng)的是你內(nèi)心的自己
藝術(shù)家的謙卑, 就在這里
沒(méi)有驕傲沒(méi)有自大, 無(wú)情地自我審視
你筆下的光線隨心漂移
你臉上雖然傷痛滿(mǎn)目
卻遮不住猶存的愛(ài)意
你對(duì)藝術(shù)的愛(ài), 對(duì)鐘情之物的愛(ài)戀,
滲入你每一次的創(chuàng)作, 直到最后
你的目光穿越了自己的年齡, 穿越了時(shí)間
你把過(guò)去連根拔起, 然后在筆尖把玩
自畫(huà)像知道, 真實(shí)地面對(duì)歲月的變遷
時(shí)光老去, 也帶走我們對(duì)死亡的恐懼驚慌
你瞧, 那從未有過(guò)的悲哀, 鼻翼腫脹
喜悅和憂(yōu)傷珍促。繪畫(huà), 如同呼吸一樣,
你用畫(huà)筆, 以勇氣挑戰(zhàn)所有的黑暗
你所選擇的, 每個(gè)人都必須面對(duì), 思量
