Home » Uncategorized » 我的诗有 – 我的利默里克 – 诺贝尔文学奖 – 爱尔兰作家

我的诗有 – 我的利默里克 – 诺贝尔文学奖 – 爱尔兰作家

我去找咖啡和甜甜圈,并与签署诗歌的人交换了一些押韵。我不知道他是谁。他是爱尔兰人,我知道他有一些关于爱尔兰多年来遇到的问题的诗。我有空闲时间,听说过文学接待;我识字,所以我去了。

当我走向诗人时,我有一个带洋葱面包圈的盘子说:“曾经有一个来自邓多克的男孩,他不知道怎么走……”

“这是英国人的错,考虑一下,”当他直接看着我时,他用一根手指在空中回答强调。他在笑我喜欢玩文字,他也是。

我以为他喜欢在所有讨好的粉丝中享受一点点无瑕疵的文字游戏,要求他在一本书的前面涂鸦。我又开始说:“曾经有一个来自秘鲁的男孩,他不知道该做什么,他去找他的妈妈,他给他看了一个骆驼……其余的押韵都取决于你。”

他笑了。我不记得他对此的回答了。这是一个阳光明媚的四月的一天,因为我们在学校的图书馆与几十个其他人聊天,我们反对一个低书案。咖啡让我的大脑竞赛。话语溢出。

我们谈到蒙巴顿勋爵在一次袭击事件中被一名爱尔兰共和军突击队杀害,他在1979年被定为暗杀。他谈到蒙巴顿是印度的殖民大师,执行英国统治,他不仅仅是一个有头衔的随机渔夫。希尼谈到蒙巴顿是印度的最后一位英国总督,一位来自外国的未经选举的独裁者我提到蒙巴顿勋爵是二战结束时负责越南盟军占领的英国官员,蒙巴顿重新武装了日本帝国军队在1945年在西贡镇压了越南托洛茨基主义工人阶级的起义。

“我不知道,”他对我说,好像还有一个重要的谜题

他告诉我,他在夏天在爱尔兰西部经营着一所诗歌写作学校,我很乐意参加聚会。我希望在我的脑海里,我那天晚上有足够的钱让我的汽车回家,而不是如何支付作家撤退到海洋。

几天后,一位教员和我开玩笑说,“你说得比他多。”我仍然不知道那个男人是谁。我知道他是爱尔兰人,我知道他写过关于爱尔兰不幸历史的诗。我在家里的架子上翻译了Beowulf。什么故事。

seamus heaney line drawing

后来我发现这个机智的人有诺贝尔文学奖。老实说,我并没有留下深刻的印象。奥巴马总统获得诺贝尔和平奖。投票给获胜者的是挪威精英和来自政府的政治家;他们挑选那个时髦的东西。不过,优秀的人才能赢得值得的努力。亨利基辛格获得诺贝尔和平奖。设想。

第二天,我得到了我部门负责人的正式通知,明年我没有得到工作,他们必须在那个日期前提醒我。我在自由文学讨论中的疯狂日子必须继续前进。我一直都知道,最终会把诗作为“对冲学校”的老师。

但多年来我真的想到了他对我的话语的回答:“曾经有一个来自Dundalk的人不知道如何走路……”Heaney回答:“这是英国人的错,想一想,”真的让我思考这个答案。他是不是意味着这个男人因为被英国士兵伤害而无法行走?他是否意味着英国对爱尔兰的长期开采导致爱尔兰人口大部分贫困,无法负担足够的医疗保健费用?

他是否意味着爱尔兰人将一切归咎于英国而不是为自己承担责任?自从希尼说出这些事以来,我已经想过这十几年了。

我仍然没有找到Seamus Heaney的答案。但他在我的架子上,在图书馆里,在我的记忆中活着。

Wǒ qù zhǎo kāfēi hé tián tián quān, bìng yǔ qiānshǔ shīgē de rén jiāohuànle yīxiē yāyùn. Wǒ bù zhīdào tā shì shéi. Tā shì ài’ěrlán rén, wǒ zhīdào tā yǒu yīxiē guānyú ài’ěrlán duōnián lái yù dào de wèntí de shī. Wǒ yǒu kòngxián shíjiān, tīng shuōguò wénxué jiēdài; wǒ shìzì, suǒyǐ wǒ qùle. Dāng wǒ zǒuxiàng shīrén shí, wǒ yǒu yīgè dài yángcōng miànbāoquān de pánzi shuō:
“Céngjīng yǒu yīgè láizì dèng duō kè de nánhái, tā bù zhīdào zěnme zǒu……”
“Zhè shì yīngguó rén de cuò, kǎolǜ yīxià,” dāng tā zhíjiē kànzhe wǒ shí, tā yòng yī gēn shǒuzhǐ zài kōngzhōng huídá qiángdiào. Tā zài xiào wǒ xǐhuān wán wénzì, tā yěshì. Wǒ yǐwéi tā xǐhuān zài suǒyǒu tǎohǎo de fěnsī zhōng xiǎngshòu yī diǎndiǎn wú xiácī de wénzìyóuxì, yāoqiú tā zài yī běn shū de qiánmiàn túyā. Wǒ yòu kāishǐ shuō:“Céngjīng yǒu yīgè láizì bìlǔ de nánhái, tā bù zhīdào gāi zuò shénme, tā qù zhǎo tā de māmā, tā gěi tā kànle yīgè luòtuó……
Qíyú de yāyùn dōu qǔjué yú nǐ.” Tā xiàole. Wǒ bù jìdé tā duì cǐ de huídále. Zhè shì yīgè yángguāng míngmèi de sì yuè de yītiān, yīnwèi wǒmen zài xuéxiào de túshū guǎn yǔ jǐ shí gè qítā rén liáotiān, wǒmen fǎnduì yīgè dī shū’àn. Kāfēi ràng wǒ de dànǎo jìngsài. Huàyǔ yìchū. Wǒmen tán dào méng bādùn xūnjué zài yīcì xíjí shìjiàn zhōng bèi yī míng ài’ěrlán gònghé jūn tújí duì shāhài, tā zài 1979 nián bèi dìng wèi ànshā.
Tā tán dào méng bādùn shì yìndù de zhímín dàshī, zhíxíng yīngguó tǒngzhì, tā bùjǐn jǐn shì yīgè yǒu tóuxián de suíjī yúfū. Xī ní tán dào méng bādùn shì yìndù de zuìhòu yī wèi yīngguó zǒngdū, yī wèi láizì wàiguó de wèi jīng xuǎnjǔ de dúcái zhě wǒ tí dào méng bādùn xūnjué shì èrzhàn jiéshù shí fùzé yuènán méng jūn zhànlǐng de yīngguó guānyuán, méng bādùn chóngxīn wǔzhuāngle rìběn dìguó jūnduì zài 1945 nián zài xīgòng zhènyāle yuènán tuō luò cí jī zhǔyì gōngrén jiējí de qǐyì.
“Wǒ bù zhīdào,” tā duì wǒ shuō, hǎoxiàng hái yǒu yīgè zhòngyào de mí tí  tā gàosù wǒ, tā zài xiàtiān zài ài’ěrlán xībù jīngyíngzhe yī suǒ shīgē xiězuò xuéxiào, wǒ hěn lèyì cānjiā jùhuì.
Wǒ xīwàng zài wǒ de nǎohǎi lǐ, wǒ nèitiān wǎnshàng yǒu zúgòu de qián ràng wǒ de qìchē huí jiā, ér bùshì rúhé zhīfù zuòjiā chètuì dào hǎiyáng. Jǐ tiān hòu, yī wèi jiàoyuán hé wǒ kāiwánxiào shuō,“nǐ shuō dé bǐ tā duō.” Wǒ réngrán bù zhīdào nàgè nánrén shì shéi. Wǒ zhīdào tā shì ài’ěrlán rén, wǒ zhīdào tā xiěguò guānyú ài’ěrlán bùxìng lìshǐ de shī.
Wǒ zài jiālǐ de jiàzi shàng fānyìle Beowulf. Shénme gùshì. Seamus heaney line drawing hòulái wǒ fāxiàn zhège jīzhì de rén yǒu nuò bèi’ěr wénxué jiǎng. Lǎoshí shuō, wǒ bìng méiyǒu liú xià shēnkè de yìnxiàng. Àobāmǎ zǒngtǒng huòdé nuò bèi’ěr hépíng jiǎng.
Tóupiào gěi huòshèng zhě de shì nuówēi jīngyīng hé láizì zhèngfǔ de zhèngzhì jiā; tāmen tiāoxuǎn nàgè shímáo de dōngxī. Bùguò, yōuxiù de rén cáinéng yíngdé zhídé de nǔlì. Hēnglì jī xīn gé huòdé nuò bèi’ěr hépíng jiǎng.
Shèxiǎng. Dì èr tiān, wǒ dédàole wǒ bùmén fùzé rén de zhèngshì tōngzhī, míngnián wǒ méiyǒu dédào gōngzuò, tāmen bìxū zài nàgè rìqí qián tíxǐng wǒ. Wǒ zài zì yóu wénxué tǎolùn zhōng de fēngkuáng rìzi bìxū jìxù qiánjìn. Wǒ yīzhí dōu zhīdào, zuìzhōng huì bǎ shī zuòwéi “duìchōng xuéxiào” de lǎoshī. Dàn duōnián lái wǒ zhēn de xiǎngdàole tā duì wǒ de huàyǔ de huídá:
“Céngjīng yǒu yīgè láizì Dundalk de rén bù zhīdào rúhé zǒulù……”Heaney huídá:“Zhè shì yīngguó rén de cuò, xiǎng yī xiǎng,” zhēn de ràng wǒ sīkǎo zhège dá’àn. Tā shì bùshì yìwèizhe zhège nánrén yīnwèi bèi yīngguó shìbīng shānghài ér wúfǎ xíngzǒu?
Tā shìfǒu yìwèizhe yīngguó duì ài’ěrlán de cháng qī kāicǎi dǎozhì ài’ěrlán rénkǒu dà bùfèn pínkùn, wúfǎ fùdān zúgòu de yīliáo bǎojiàn fèiyòng? Tā shìfǒu yìwèizhe ài’ěrlán rén jiāng yīqiè guījiù yú yīngguó ér bùshì wèi zìjǐ chéngdān zérèn?
Zìcóng xī ní shuō chū zhèxiē shì yǐlái, wǒ yǐjīng xiǎngguò zhè shí jǐ niánle. Wǒ réngrán méiyǒu zhǎodào Seamus Heaney de dá’àn. Dàn tā zài wǒ de jiàzi shàng, zài túshū guǎn lǐ, zài wǒ de jìyì zhōng huózhe.
…………………..

My Limericks with Seamus Heaney

I went for the coffee and donuts, and traded some rhymes with the man signing books of poetry.  I didn’t know who he was.  He was Irish, I knew he had some poems about the problems Ireland has had over the years.   I had some free time and heard about the literary reception; I’m literate, so I went.

I had a plate with an onion bagel as I walked up to the poet and said, “There once was a boy from Dundalk, who didn’t know quite how to walk….”

“It’s the Brits fault, think about it,”  he replied with a finger in the air for emphasis as he looked at me directly.  He was smiling.  I like to play with words, and so did he.

I thought he enjoyed a little unvarnished wordplay among all the fawning fans asking for his scribble in the front of a book.  I started again, “There once was a boy from Peru, who didn’t know quite what to do, he went to his mama, who showed him a Llama….and the rest of the rhyme’s up to you.”

He laughed.  I can’t remember his reply to that.  It was a sunny April day as we chatted in the school’s library with a couple of dozen other people around we were against a low book case.  Coffee makes my brain race.  Words spill out.

We talked about Lord Montbatten being killed by an IRA commando team in a targeted assassination in 1979.  He talked about Mountbatten being a colonial master in India enforcing English rule, that he was not just a random fisherman with a title.  Heaney spoke about Montbatten being the last British Viceroy of India, an unelected dictator from a foreign country  I mentioned that Lord Montbatten had been the British official in charge of the allied occupation of Vietnam at the end of WW2, and Montbatten re-armed Japanese Imperial Army troops to put down a Vietnamese Trotskyist working class uprising in 1945 in Saigon.

“I didn’t know that,” he said to me as if a little piece of an important puzzle had been added

He told me that he ran a writing school for poetry during the summer in the West of Ireland, and that I might enjoy coming to the gathering.  I was hoping in my head that I had enough money for gas to travel home in my car that night, not how to pay for a writers retreat across the ocean.

A faculty member joked with me a few days later, “you spoke more than he did.”  I still didn’t know who the man was.  I knew he was Irish, I knew he had written poems about the unhappy history of Ireland.   I had his translation of Beowulf on my shelf at home.  What a story.

seamus heaney line drawingLater I found out that this witty man had a Nobel Prize in Literature.  Honestly, I am not impressed by that.  President Obama has a Nobel Peace Prize.  The people who vote on the winners are Norwegian elite and politicians from the government; they pick whatever is trendy with that clique.  Still, good people do win for worthwhile efforts.  Henry Kissinger got a Nobel Peace Prize.  Imagine that.

The very next day I got an official notice from my department head that I was not being offered a job the next year and they had to warn me by that date.  My wild days at free literary discussions would have to move on.  I always knew I would end up passing poetry along as a teacher for a ‘hedge school.’

But over the years I really have thought about his answer to my words: “There once was a man from Dundalk who didn’t know quite how to walk….”  Heaney’s answer: “It’s the Brits fault, think about it,” really has made me think about that answer.  Did he mean the man couldn’t walk because he was hurt by the British soldiers?  Did he mean that the long term British exploitation of Ireland lead to the Irelands population to be largely poor and unable to afford adequate health care?

Did he mean that Irish people blame everything on the British rather than taking responsibility for themselves?   I have thought about that off and on over the dozen years since Heaney said them.

I still don’t have an answer to Seamus Heaney.  But he’s on my shelf, in the library, and alive in my memory.

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