Poems by Marilyn Nelson

Abba Jacob said:
To be human is to be a stranger
and at the same time NOT a stranger.
It is to be profoundly involved in the cosmos:
to know that the building blocks of the universe
and your building blocks are the same. It is to be aware
of the community of all life, to bear cosmic consciousness,
to know that we have received
our building blocks as a gift
from the rest of what is alive.
And what is alive is born of stars,
and of the orbits of stars and planets,
their extraordinary explosions and implosions,
dust storms of the universe coming together
to make suns and planets
and comets made almost entirely of water
falling like rain upon a barren planet
in extraordinary explosions of vapor,
condensing into oceans, and, life!

---

沒有陌生人

阿巴杰科布說過：
是人也就是陌生人
同時又不是陌生人。
是很深的介入宇宙
是知道宇宙的建築單元
也就是你的建築單元。 是知曉
所有生命的社區， 是有著宇宙的知覺，
是知道我們的建築單元
也就是其它的生靈
送給我們的禮物。
所有的生靈都誕生于星星，
誕生于恆星和行星的軌道，
它們非凡的爆炸和內爆，
宇宙會聚引發的沙塵暴
造出太陽和行星
還有幾乎全是水的彗星
像雨落在貧瘠的行星一樣
引發非凡的蒸汽爆炸，
濃縮成海洋，並且，生命！

A blue knitted cap hides the cockles of his hair.
A thick striped sweater hides him from ears to butt.
His mittens match his cap (clearly mother-knit).
Short pants, tall socks, a down-at-the-heels pair

of ankle-high black boots. His lunch and slate
are strapped together. Shooter and aggies clink
in his right-front pocket. In his right-rear pocket a sling.
In his cerebral cortex a fireworks of thought.

What’s “God,” anyways? And how does God decide
who’s rich and who’s a slave, who’s white, who’s black?
The classroom talks are teaching the boy to think.
Do white people bleed a different color blood?

Can something be too light for gravity?
Since I was born free, do I own myself
the same as Mama and Papa own themselves?
If you don’t own anything, what’s the point of being free?

Why don’t the stars fall down? Did Adam name
the numbers? How far?
Frederick is late,
as usual. He slides into his seat,
his gaze caught by the world in the window-frame.

---

輕得不能承受重力
　弗雷德里克．雷德斯， 約1826年

一頂藍色針織帽遮住他亂麻般的頭髮。
一件厚厚的條紋毛衣把他從耳朵遮到屁股。
他的手套和帽子相配（顯然母親所織）。
短褲，長襪， 一雙破舊不堪
踝高的黑靴子。他的午餐和寫字板
捆在一起。玻璃球在他的右前方口袋里
碰響。右後方口袋里是一隻彈弓。
在他的大腦皮質里想法像煙花一樣。
到底什麼是“上帝”？上帝又如何決定
誰是富人，誰是奴隸，誰白，誰黑？
課堂里的談話教導孩子去思考。
難道白人流不同顏色的血？
有沒有什麼輕得不能承受重力？
既然我是生而自由，我是不是擁有我自己
像爸爸媽媽擁有他們自己一樣？
如果你什麼都沒有，自由又有什麼用？
星星為什麼不落下來？亞當有沒有
給數字命名？命名了多少個？
弗雷德里克又晚了，
像往常一樣。他溜進座位，
目光凝聚在窗口里的世界。

Am I the only person that dreams my dreams?
Does anybody else on this planet think my thoughts?
Are my ideas like darting lights I’ve caught,
and my mind like a net, sieving through thought-filled streams?

Frederick thinks his way through recess, while
the other boys play rolley-hole and catch,
the girls chant palm slap, or jump double-dutch:
lost in the moment of being a child.

He wonders, half-listening to the rhyme,
whether there is, somewhere, a Mary Mack,
and who buttons the buttons on her back.
If there’s eternity, then what is time?

How do we know everyone is unique?
Who except God is able to compare
all of us? What if there’s a boy somewhere
whose Self and mine are perfectly alike?

What would that mean? Would it make my life less
than what I know it is when I watch clouds
form and dissolve, or when I am allowed
to stand at night under the fathomless.

---

在不可測之深的下面
　 弗雷德里克．雷德斯 約1828年

我是不是唯一夢見我的夢的人？
這個星球上有沒有別的人在想著我的想法？
我的想法是不是像被我抓住的飛奔的光，
我的大腦是不是像一個網，過濾着充滿想法的小溪？
弗雷德里克 整個課間都在思索，而
其他男孩在玩羅利孔和捉人，
女孩們在拍手唱歌，或跳雙荷：
迷失在一個孩子的現在。
他一邊聽着節奏， 一邊好奇的想，
是否，在某個地方，有一個瑪麗麥克，
又是誰在幫她扣背上的紐扣。
如果有永恆，那什麼是時間？
我們怎麼知道每個人是獨一無二的？
除了上帝，誰能夠比較
我們所有人？如果有一個地方有一個男孩
他的自我和我的自我完全一樣，那會怎麼樣？
這又表明什麼呢？它是否會使我的生活不如
我所知的現在，當我看雲
聚散，或者當我被容許
在夜晚站在不可測之深的下面。

Stomping our ice feet, we shivered in layered shawls,
kerchiefs and coats, shoulders hunched to our ears.
The night sky glowed red with reflected fire.
Wind-whirls brought snatches of faraway clangs and calls.

Some people prayed, or blew into mittened fists;
some said it served them fat cats right, and laughed.
They danced with bitter joy on the snowdrifts,
spectators of distant apocalypse.

Drawing me into a puffy embrace,
Plez said, Hell’s furnace for men who catch fugitive slaves.
Are there twenty righteous people down there to save?
He pulled me close. Come here, sweet pillar of ice!

---

火，冰，吻
　 蘇珊和愉快史密斯，1835年12月16日

重重跺着我們冰一樣的腳，我們顫抖着，
穿着一層層披肩，圍巾和外套，肩樅到耳朵。
夜空通紅的映着火災。
旋轉的風斷續的帶來遠處的碰撞和叫喊。
有些人祈禱，或對著戴著手套的拳頭噓氣;
有人說那些肥貓罪有應得，笑了起來。
他們帶著苦澀的喜悅在雪堆上跳舞，
遙遠世界末日的觀眾。
將我摟進一個臃腫的擁抱，
布萊茲說，地獄熔爐為追誧亡奴者準備。
那邊有沒有二十個正義的人值得解救？
他將我拉得更近。過來，甜甜的冰柱！

A battle won is easily described;
the moral growth of a great nation requires
description and reflection, to be seen.

Hey, that’s MINE!

A little learning is a dangerous thing;
the want of learning a calamity.

You better give it back!

The life of a nation can be secure
only while it is virtuous and true.

I MEAN it!

America has been false to the past,
false to the present, and solemnly binds
herself to be false to the future, too.

Give it back!

No harvest without plowing up the ground;
no rain without a rumble of dark clouds.

Oh, yeah?

It is easier to build strong children
than to piece back together broken men.

He started it!!

For he who sows the wind reaps the whirlwind.

Yessum.

---

詞語與耳語
　 弗雷德里克道格拉斯（1803年至1870年）演講詞，約 1848年

戰役的勝利容易描述;
一個偉大國家的道德成長
需要描述和反思，以待觀察。
嘿，這是我說的！
一知半解是一件危險的事情;
無知無解是一個災難。
你最好把它還給我！
一個民族的生存取決于
它的善良和真誠。
我是認真的！
美國一直不肯承認它的過去，
不肯承認它的今天，並且正在
為 不肯承認它的未來鄭重準備。
把它還給我！
沒有耕耘沒有收穫;
未經烏雲隆隆不會下雨。
哦，是嗎？
培養強有力的兒童要比
修補破碎的成人容易。
是他起的頭！！
種風者收穫旋風。
好的，大人。