米修作品

◎董继平 译

要点

人——他基本的存在——只是一个点。死亡吞没的单单是这个点。那就是他必须要小心不被包围的原因。

有一天在梦里，我被四只狗和一个指挥那些狗的卑鄙的小男孩包围。

我永远也不会忘记我击中他时遇到的麻烦，那种难以置信的困难。多么费力啊！无疑，我击中了某种生物，然而是谁呢？无论怎样，我的对手都被击败到了足以消失的程度。然而，别以为我被他们的外表愚弄了：他们也只是一个个点——五个点，然而是很强的点。

还有一件事：那就是癫痫开始的方式。那些点朝着你推进，把你清除掉。它们打击，你被入侵。我真想知道，你能把你的第一次发作推迟多久呢。

THE MAIN POINT

Man—his essential being—is only a point. It is this point alone that is swallowed up by Death. That’s why he must be careful not to be encircled.

One day，in a dream，I was surrounded by four dogs and a nasty little boy commanding them.

The trouble，the unbelievable difficulty I had in hitting him，I shall never，never forget. What an effort!No doubt I hit some sort of being，but whom? In any case，my opponents were defeated enough to disappear. Don’t think I was fooled by their appearance，though: they weren’t anything but points either—five points，but very strong ones.

And another thing: that’s how epilepsy begins. The points march on to you and eliminate you. They blow，and you’re invaded. How long can you put off your first fit，I really wonder.

接近平静

那没有接受这个世界的人，在这个世界上没有建造房子。如果他冷，世界就不冷。如果他热，世界就不热。如果他砍倒桦树，仿佛就像根本没有砍倒什么，但地面上有桦树，他接受他那商定的报酬，要不然他就仅仅接受几记重拳。他接受那些重拳，就像接受一件没有任何特定意义的礼物，他自行其道，也不会惊讶。

他并没口渴就饮水，他并没受伤就陷入岩石。

在卡车下面，他的一条腿断了，看起来也一如既往，想起平静，想起平静，想起如此难以企及的平静，如此难以保持的平静。

尽管他从不曾出来，他也熟悉整个世界。他相当了解大海。大海一直在他的下面，一片没有水但并非没有波浪、并非不广袤的大海。他了解河流。那些河始终穿过他而奔流，没有水但并非没有倦怠，并非没有突然发生的激流。

没有空气的飓风在他内心肆虐。地球的静止也属于他。道路、车辆、鸟群无穷无尽地穿过他，一棵没有纤维素却相当坚硬的大树，在他内心像一枚苦果成熟，通常苦涩，很少味甜。

就这样，他始终在远处孤零零地生活在约会地点，双手始终没有握住一只手，心中有一只钩子，想起平静，想起那种被诅咒的悸动的平静，都属于他，还想起那据说是在那种平静之上的平静。

TOWARD SERENITY

He who does not accept the world builds no house in it. If he is cold，it’s without being cold. He is hot without heat. If he chops down birches，it’s as if he were chopping down nothing at all，but there are the birches，on the ground，and he takes his agreedupon wages，or else he only takes a few punches. He takes the punches like a gift without any particular meaning，and he goes on his way，without being surprised.

He drinks water without being thirsty，he sinks into the rock without harm.

Under a truck，with a broken leg，he looks just the same as usual and thinks of peace，of peace，of peace so hard to reach，so hard to keep，peace.

Although he has never gone out，the world is familiar to him.He knows the sea quite well. The sea is constantly beneath him，a sea without water，but not without waves，not without vastness. He knows the rivers. They run through him constantly，without water but not without languor，not without sudden rapids.

Hurricanes without air rage inside him. The immobility of Earth is also his. Roads，cars，flocks go through him endlessly，and a great tree without cellulose but quite hard ripens inside him like a bitter fruit，bitter often，sweet rarely.

Living thus at a distance，always alone at the rendezvous，without ever holding a hand in his hands，with a hook in his heart he thinks of peace，of that cursed throbbing peace，all his，and of the peace that is said to be above that peace.

幻象

她在肥皂水中洗手，突然，水变成锋利的晶体，变成坚硬的针，血（就像它拥有行事诀窍那样）流出来，流走，让那个女人随意而为。

稍后，就像这个世纪常常发生的那样，一个如此酷爱干净的男人走进来，他也打算盥洗：

他一路挽起衣袖，用那泛起泡沫的水遮住胳膊（现在水成了真正的泡沫），他从容而专注——但并不满意，在洗涤槽边缘上猛地一击，将胳膊击碎，另一条更长的胳膊立即从他身上长出来，他又开始盥洗，那条胳膊就在第一条胳膊的位置上。那是一条被更丰富、更柔软的绒毛所软化的胳膊，然而，一旦他几乎怜爱地一路向上给它彻底涂上肥皂，他突然就对它瞪了一眼，也突然就不满意了，将其击碎，“嗨！”然而又一条胳膊从原处长出来，他以同样的方式将其击碎，然后一条、一条又一条胳膊长出来（他从来都不满意），因为我如此恐惧地数点到长出了17 条胳膊！然后，他带着第18 条胳膊消失了——他更喜欢不去盥洗那条胳膊，而是将其用来满足这一天之需。

VISION

She was washing her hands in soapy water，when suddenly it changed into cutting crystals，into hard needles，and the blood (as it has the knack of doing) flowed out and away，leaving the woman to her own devices.

A little while later，as often happens in this century so obsessed with cleanliness，a man came in，and he，too，intended to wash up: he rolled his sleeves all the way up，covered his arm with foamy water ( it was real foam now) ，deliberately，attentively—but dissatisfied，he broke it with a sharp blow on the edge of the sink，and began to wash another，longer arm that grew out of him immediately，as are placement for the first one. It was an arm softened by a more abundant，silkier down，but once he had soaped it up thoroughly，almost lovingly，suddenly he gave it a mean look，suddenly dissatisfied，he broke it，“Hai!”，and yet another one that grew out in its place，he broke that one in the same way，and then the next one and then another one，and then yet another one (he was never satisfied) and so on up to seventeen—for in my terror，I was counting!Then he disappeared with an eighteenth that he preferred not to wash but to use just as it was for the needs of the day.