我也不知道这首诗有没有被翻译过，因为被字里行间的孤独感染了，一时冲动就翻译了。
…………然后发现翻译诗歌好难啊_(:з」∠)_
为Tor.com的国家诗歌月所创作，责编Ellen Datlow。
原址 http://www.tor.com/stories/2013/04/house-neil-gaiman
《房子》
——Neil Gaiman
有时我觉得好像活在山顶上一尊巨大的头颅里
以纸浆铸成，以我自己为原型的巨大头颅。
我擦拭那作窗子的双眼，又或是
修剪草坪，这里说的可是我的房子。
即便它是一尊巨大的以纸浆铸就的与我分厘不差的头颅。
途经此地的人们
开着车，乘着巴士，或从火车上望见山上这尊头颅
他们认为这房子就是我。
我在这里入睡，又或擦拭双眼，又或修剪草坪，
但没人会看到我，没人会细看。
没人会登门来访。如果我挥手了，没人会知道我在挥手。
他们都望着错误的地方，望着山上那尊头颅。
从这儿我也能望见你的房子。
——原文如下——
“House”
Sometimes I think it’s like I live in a big giant head on a hilltop
made of papier mache, a big giant head of my own head.
I polish the eyes which would be windows, or
mow the lawn, I mean this is my house we’re talking about here
even if it is a big giant papier mache head that looks just like mine.
And people who go past
in cars or buses or see the house the head on the hill from trains
they think the house is me.
I’ll be sleeping there, or polishing the eyes, or weeding the lawn,
but no-one will see me, no-one would look.
And no-one would ever come. And if I waved no-one even knows it was me waving.
They’d all be looking in the wrong place, at the head on the hill.
I can see your house from here.
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发表于 2014-10-19 04:46:52
发表于 2014-10-25 21:06:01
