美国诗人、评论家丹尼尔•布瑞克，写给苏菲的诗歌评论

 

        这是一首绝望之诗，也是一首悲痛之诗。或许，这首诗的创作动机，是想通过一个绝望的希望，用人类文化遗产在诗歌里的体现来解释恐怖主义，并提出恐怖主义存在的原因。在那个灾难的夜晚，我们很多人，不但依赖互联网寻找信息，还连接一些志同道合的人来抚慰我们未曾丢失的灵魂。这位诗人的体验，尤其受到创伤，因为她知道将会如此。她希望找到的东西，和实际上她所能找到的东西，之间的不匹配加深了她的悲痛。她徒劳的搜索，持续了三天三夜，在此期间，她牺牲了她的时间，她的安慰，以及她的睡眠。

        值得注意的重点是：在任何时候，诗人绝没有把自己看成一个特殊的个体；她的诗可能确实是一首特殊的诗，但她的存在，仅仅是许许多多人员中的一个， 正如那些受害者。她用各种隐喻来形容搜索的本质。例如，“缠结的网络”，一个“蒸锅”，“虚幻的屏幕”，但最能产生共鸣的是“迷宫深处”，她遇到的不是凶残的野兽，她发现的只有黑暗和困惑。这不同于古代神话，陷入迷宫，而并没有决定性的胜利。在我们的现实世界，野兽就是恐怖主义，它在世界上松散的存在着。诗人的结论在本诗的标题里已经给出，在第一行，但在本诗的最后几行里，诗人略有加剧重申这一结论。

        有时候，一首诗有它自己的方向，并巧妙地滑出了诗人意识的控制。重读这首诗时，诗人自己可能会发现这个隐藏的事项。 我个人的感觉是，诗人的工作强度和完整性掩盖了她的结论：诗歌一无是处。而且，她在这首诗里做出的努力，使我相信她最后的陈述是不成熟的。她的诗是一个脆弱的阿里阿德涅线团，将会指引所有心怀善意的诗人、读者、所有恐怖主义的受害者，走出世界的黑暗迷宫，来到光明的世界，在这里，人们团结在一起，并肯定他们的人文价值观。

 

（丹尼尔•布瑞克）

 

2015-12-29 苏菲英译汉  中国 广州

 

 

 

       This is a Poem of Despair. It is also a Poem of Grief. It was motivated perhaps by a desperate hope that the heritage of human culture embodied in poetry can explain terrorism, and offer an understanding of why it exists. Many of us resorted to the internet on that fateful night to seek information but also to connect to like-minded people to reassure our hearts all was not lost. This poet’s experience was especially traumatic, as she knew it would be. The mismatch between what she hoped to find and what is actually available deepened her grief. Her futile search lasted for three days during which she sacrificed her time, her comfort and her sleep.

       It is important to note: At no time does the poet see herself as an exceptional individual; her poetry may indeed be exceptional, but in her being she is simply one among many, just like the victims. She uses a variety of metaphors to describe the nature of her search. For example, the “entangled web,” a “steaming pan,” “illusory screen,” but the most resonant is the “labyrinthine depths.”  But instead of encountering a murderous beast, she finds only darkness. And confusion. Unlike the ancient myth, there is no decisive victory over the beast confined to the labyrinth. In our world the beast is terrorism, and it is loose in the world.  The poet’s conclusion has been signaled in the title and in the first line, but she reiterates it with a slight intensification in her last lines. 

       Sometimes a poem has its own direction and subtly slips out of the poet’s conscious control. The poet herself may discover this hidden agenda upon re-reading. My personal feeling is that the intensity and completeness of this poet’s work belie her conclusion that POETRY IS NOTHING. Furthermore, it is her effort in writing this poem that convinces me her closing statement is premature. Her poem is a frail Ariadne's Thread that leads the poet, her readers and all other people of good will out of the dark labyrinth of a world victimized by terrorism into the bright upper world where people band together and affirm their humane values

 

(Daniel J. Brick)  

 

 

 

我24小时挂在网上，我更换了所有搜索引擎 

所有关键词，在互联网的夹缝里

我嗅见了你的一丝气息

我48小时挂在网上，像热锅上的蚂蚁

一次次试图，漫过这热气腾腾的油锅

好看清你的真面目，好让你听见我在哭泣

我72小时挂在网上，我飞蛾扑火

一次次试图，越过那幻象中的画屏

好在你面前展现，我最完美的舞姿

好让你看得见，我坠入火海，那永恒的瞬间

我寻遍了整个地球，追寻你的蛛丝马迹

从互联网的缝隙里，我窥见了你的只言片语——

面对恐怖主义，诗歌苍白无力

面对恐怖主义，诗歌一无是处

我寻遍了整个宇宙，探求你的缘起缘灭

在宇宙的裂缝里，我窥见了你残留的原代码——

面对恐怖主义，诗歌是无力的无力

面对恐怖主义，诗歌是一无是处的是处

 

2015-11-23    香港，如心铜锣湾海景酒店 

 

选自《反恐诗歌》

 

After being online for 24 hours, searching all of the search engines,

Trying all of the key words, in all the entangled web of the internet,

I found not the slightest trace of you.

After being online for 48 hours, like a cat on a hot tin roof,

Again and again, slaving over a steaming pan,

In order to better see you in your true colours, and to let you hear me crying,

I still found not the slightest trace of you.

After being online 72 hours, I, like a moth to a flame,

Again and again, trying to go beyond the illusory screen images

In order to show off my best dancing in front of you

And to let you see my final moment as I crash and burn.

I’ve searched the whole earth, following your clues

And from the labyrinthine depths of the internet,

I got a glimpse of your few, brief words —

Faced with terrorism, poetry is pale and powerless,

Faced with terrorism, poetry is nothing,

I’ve searched the whole universe, researching your origin and your end,

And at its extent, I got a glimpse of the original code you left behind —

Faced with terrorism, poetry is powerless’ powerlessness,

Faced with terrorism, poetry is nothings’ nothingness.

 

2015-11-23, Causeway Bay Harbour View Hotel, Hong Kong

 

Selected from POETRY AGAINST TERROR’