“until we could ” 手动翻译

Tuekirk
这是一首绝美的诗,说以想着按照自己的理解翻译了一下
这首诗是运动组织 Freedom To Marry (FTM) 在2013年为了纪念其成立10周年,以及纪念麻省作为美国的第一个州将婚姻平等载入法律十周,委托 Richard Blanco(是曾在美总统就职典礼上朗读诗的最年轻的诗人,其本人也最早的公开其同性身份的公众人物之一)为其做了这首优美的诗,而且由于这首诗的确很打动人,后来又做了相关的短片。

http://richard-blanco.com/


我从那时便已确信,

那时在这间屋子里我们第一次触碰到对方的双眼,

然后周围的一切——

甚至城市的嘈杂与烟尘——

都已消失,

留下我们于这静谧之中,

就好...





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这是一首绝美的诗,说以想着按照自己的理解翻译了一下
这首诗是运动组织 Freedom To Marry (FTM) 在2013年为了纪念其成立10周年,以及纪念麻省作为美国的第一个州将婚姻平等载入法律十周,委托 Richard Blanco(是曾在美总统就职典礼上朗读诗的最年轻的诗人,其本人也最早的公开其同性身份的公众人物之一)为其做了这首优美的诗,而且由于这首诗的确很打动人,后来又做了相关的短片。

http://richard-blanco.com/


我从那时便已确信,

那时在这间屋子里我们第一次触碰到对方的双眼,

然后周围的一切——

甚至城市的嘈杂与烟尘——

都已消失,

留下我们于这静谧之中,

就好像这世界上仅剩的能够相爱的两个人,

又好像两面相望没有尽头的镜子,

向着光芒,

我们的眼睛伸展至无限之处。

从认识你的那天起我便已确信——

但是我们却不能...

I knew it then, in that room where we found for the first time our eyes, and everything—

even the din and smoke of the city around us—

disappeared, leaving us alone as if we stood the last two in the world left capable of love,

or as if two mirrors face-to-face with no end to the light our eyes could bend into infinity.

I knew since I knew you—but we couldn’t...


我捕捉到穿过薄纱的日光,

它从漫长的黑夜中跋涉而来,

只为轻触你的肌肤,

正如我在第一道晨光中细细打量睡身旁的你的模样:

是的,我数过你的睫毛,

我也阅览过你的梦境,

就好像无数的蝴蝶在你的眼底飞舞,

跃然翩跹至屋内。

是的,我曾赞美你,

就好像你是造物主遗忘人间的珍奇,

直到这个早晨你温顺地躺在我的怀里,

让我第一个看见,让我为你命名。

随着身体呼吸起伏,

你的每一丝气息我都想占据,

甚至我想要我们之间的空气也合二为一。

是的,我渴望你的所有。

是的,我确信我们之间的爱情,

但是我们仍不能...

I caught the sunlight pining through the shears,

traveling millions of dark miles simply to graze your skin as I did that first dawn I studied you sleeping beside me:

Yes, I counted your eyelashes,

read your dreams like butterflies flitting underneath your eyelids,

ready to flutter into the room.

Yes, I praised you like a majestic creature my god forgot to create,

till that morning of you suddenly tamed in my arms,

first for me to see, name you mine.

Yes to the rise and fall of your body breathing,

your every exhale a breath I took in as my own wanting to keep even the air between us as one.

Yes to all of you.

Yes I knew, but still we couldn’t...


我教你如何从我加勒比蓝的双眼学习萨尔萨舞,

你还学会了说我的语言,

同时也教会我如何在掌心接住一片雪花,

让我爱上你家乡阴沉天空中灰白色的云。

岁月在一张张光洁的相片中沉淀着,

在书架和墙上讲述我们的故事,回望着我们:

那曾在夕阳下彼此紧紧拥抱,

沉醉于对方更甚于樱红色天空的我们;

那曾攀登上高峰,

誓言只有能够相互陪伴便无所谓名山大川的我们;

那曾倚靠着古老残垣的我们,

爱情却依旧如新,

或那曾在桌旁入梦的我们,

烛光在我们满月的双眼中闪耀。

我们知晓彼此,

就像我们知晓自己一样,

然而我们却不能...

I taught you how to dance Salsa by looking into my Caribbean eyes,

you learned to speak in my tongue,

while teaching me how to catcha snowflake in my palms and love the grey clouds of your grey hometown.

Our years began collecting in glossy photos time-lining our lives across shelves and walls glancing back at us:

Us embracing in some sunset,

more captivated by each other than the sky brushed plum and rose.

Us claiming some mountain that didn’t matter as much our climbing it, together.

Us leaning against columns of ruins as ancient as our love was new,

or leaning into our dreams at a table flickering candlelight in our full-mooned eyes.

I knew me as much as us, and yet we couldn’t....


当你湛蓝的眼睛变为绿色,当你撒了谎时,

我学会了原谅并继续相信你;

当共枕一席却在黑夜中彼此沉默时,

我们学会以一句早安结束冷战;

每一次摔门后,为了能够继续走下去,

我学会了放手,

学会了承认你是对的,

就像我常常坚持我是对的一样,

直到没有什么事是一次悠长的漫步所不能解决的:

有时我们会紧握着双手,

就像紧握着对未来的希望一样在路灯下漫步,

那明亮的灯光好似一串珍珠指引着家的方向,

有时我们会带着我们的狗在海滩漫步,

笑声冲刷着海面,盖过充盈的海浪;

尽管知道我们之间的爱情就如我们的父母亲们一样真切,

尽管我们已经鼓起勇气告诉他们如此,并得到了他们的理解。

尽管我们学会了很多,我们仍不能——

那便没有人能。

Though I forgave your blue eyes turning green each time you lied,

but kept believing you,

though we learned to say good morning after long nights of silence in the same bed,

though every door slam taught me to hold on by letting us go,

and saying you’re right became as true as saying I’m right,

till there was nothing a long walk couldn’t resolve:

holding hands and hope under the street lights lustering like a string of pearls guiding us home,

or a stroll along the beach with our dog, the sea washed out by our smiles,

our laughter roaring louder than the waves,

though we understood our love was the same as our parents,

though we dared to tell them so, and they understood.

Though we knew, we couldn’t—no one could.


当从石墙的先辈的手中接过愤怒的标语和火把时,

我们第一次说出反抗的话语。

当穿着光片、皮革和彩虹旗游行上街头时,

我们将骄傲的呐喊传向城市的每一条街道:

让我们做自己。

但这还不够。

游行变成集会,

变成标语上和口中的怒吼,

直到一个人能够宣称自由是婚姻的另一个名,

他说:让我们走进婚姻的殿堂,

我们说:爱就是爱,

将它说给每一双愿意倾听的眼睛,

每一扇愿意敞开的大门,直到

“不行”和“也许”变为“可以”,直到

镇接镇,城接城,州接州,

人们都能够理解我们,

理解我们之中那个敢于站出来说“够了”的人,

直到法律中被书写上我们早已知道的事实:

爱就是有权利说出:我愿意,我愿意,我愿意...

我愿看见我们种下的每朵郁金香都在年复一年的春季绽放,

我愿我们能携手安度百年,每一餐共享一杯红酒,

和躺卧床上品味一部电影。

我愿意,

直到我们碰触的双眼成为无声的表达

直到我们像一片云融入另一片云,

不再区分彼此,

我们的名字也不再又任何意义。

我愿你是我此生看见的最后一张脸庞——

你的气息也成为我最后的气息,

我愿意,

我愿意并会去履行我的承诺,

我也会见证那些仍不能宣誓的人,

他们懂得什么是爱,

就像懂得船帆为何会迎风而不折,

就像懂得根系为何深深扎根泥土,

就像懂得星辰为何在夜空闪耀,

就像懂得藤蔓为何与依附的砖墙融为一体,

或者就像懂得,

当我抱着你的时候,你为何成为了我手心的雨。

When the fiery kick lines and fires were set for us by our founding mother-fathers at Stonewall,

we first spoke defiance.

When we paraded glitter leather, and rainbows made human,

our word became pride down every city street, saying:

Just let us be.

But that wasn’t enough.

Parades became rallies—

Bold words on signs and mouths until a man claimed freedom as another word for marriage and he said:

Let us in, we said: Love is love,

proclaimed it into all eyes that would listen at every door that would open,

until noes and maybes turned into yeses,

town by town, city by city, state by state, understanding us and the woman who dared say enough,

until the gavel struck into law what we always knew:

Love is the right to say:

I do and I do and I do...

and I do want us to see every tulip we’ve planted come up spring after spring,

a hundred more years of dinners cooked over a shared glass of wine,

and a thousand more movies in bed.

I do until our eyes become voices speaking without speaking,

Until like a cloud meshed into a cloud,

there’s no more you, me—our names useless.

I do want you to be the last face I see—

your breath my last breath,

I do, I do and will and will for those who still can’t vow it yet,

but know love’s exact reason as much as they know

how a sail keeps the wind without breaking,

or how roots dig a way into the earth,

or how the stars open their eyes to the night,

or how a vine becomes one with the wall it loves,

or how,

when I hold you,

you are rain in my hands.

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