翻译论坛| 自淫简史 （A Short History of Autoeroticism）三个译本
Poet Sara Nicholson is the author of the poetry collections What the Lyric Is (2016) and The Living Method (2014). She lives in West Fork, Arkansas.
Nicholson’s allusive poetry of inquiry is composed with close attention to syllable and syntax. In a 2015 review of The Living Method for A Perimeter, Hajara Quinn observes that “Nicholson establishes a metaphysical attraction to a multi-disciplinary poetics,” while on the Public Books blog list of the best poetry books of 2013-2014, poet chose The Living Method, stating, “the method is more than meter, it’s meter’s living purpose: Nicholson wields the authority of archival rhythms and the forceful syntax of a logician, but she constantly attaches these certainties to a wildness of premise and a brevity of figure: instead of self, ruled utterance; instead of help, poetry.”
On selecting Nicholson’s The Living Method for the Poetry Society of America’s New American Poets prize, noted, “The poems in Nicholson's collection, diverse as they are, are all intensely bold. Sure, they are often aphoristic and declamatory, but this is not the sort of boldness that I mean. I mean a boldness akin to that of Catullus and Dickinson. Like them, Nicholson makes the page into an eye that stares directly.” In an author’s note for her poem “The Burden,” Nicholson states, “A creative writing teacher once told me that I didn't know how to use prepositions. I'm still not sure I've mastered them. Not knowing's not exactly a burden I carry along with or inside or behind me. Instead, I think of it as my refrain.”
(From Poetry Foundation )
我在这首诗里看到了一个女人的迷茫和挣扎，看到了一个树林和隐藏在面容下汹涌着的情绪。那些画面一点儿也不伟大，甚至隐秘而晦暗。又正是这些最真实的无助，让我觉得，好像看到了你，看到了我。
我看到了曾经在不同关系里流离失所又手足无措的人们。
那些失落和悔恨随着时间的尘土，落在海里，落在树林深处，落在鸟群背上，落在书页，落在杯里。最后发现，一生原来这么长，一切都会被历史的洪流带去，伤痛如是，快乐如是。每个人都是一粒小小的尘埃，不过各自在自己的小世界里张牙舞爪。于是，历练后的我们变成了现在的我们，披着坚硬的壳，金刚不坏，百毒不侵。多么令人喜悦又悲哀的结局。
用笔手写完译作的最后一个字，叹了口气，拍了照片给超认真学长Peter看，收到两个字：不错。心中当即如释重负。
关于爱
这首诗，我忽略掉所有翻译理论，只把我看到的那个成长的模样用我的文字描述给你。大概它不够完美，但它是我心里最想说的样子。
而我，只想告诉你：无论是否遭遇了困境，无论是否渡过了困境，别怕，你要往前走，往光里走，你一点儿也不孤单。
A Short History of Autoeroticism
By Sara NicholsonI picture the forest but think of my swag.
The birds, metaphorically speaking,
disappear into the venom of the air.
The day is bounded by an asymptote
I think, but I hate myself, the air, the day,
and hate the birds most of all.
The notes of autumn's synthesizer
began to bother me in retrospect.
The winter drew its hexes on the wall.
There are no books to read or write
this afternoon, no poets who can compute
the ratio of obscurity to the sea.
Richard II invented the handkerchief
and he felt very small on that day
when he waved a red square
at a bigger, more ineradicable blue one.
自淫简史
莎拉·尼克尔森 作许景城 译我画着森林却惦记着被盗物品。
鸟儿，呢喃细语，
消失在空气的怨恨中。
白昼被一根渐近线束缚着，
我觉得，但我讨厌自己、空气、白昼，
尤其最讨厌鸟儿。
秋天万物合奏的旋律
开始烦扰我回忆往事。
冬天在墙上画下了魔咒。
这个午后不想读书，不想
写作，没有诗人能计算出
海上阴暗朦胧的面积。
理查德二世发明了手帕，
然而有一天当他挥舞着红色方帕
朝向更大、永不褪色的蓝帕时，
却感到自己非常地渺小。
于班戈大学
2016-11-27
自淫简史
莎拉·尼克尔森 作杨子谊 译
我描绘着树林 却想起了我的秘密
鸟儿 低语着
消失在空气的恶毒里
白昼被一根渐近线捆绑
我臆想着 但我恨我自己，空气，白昼
更恨那鸟儿
秋天合成的声音
唤醒了回顾的我
冬天在墙上雕刻它的痕迹
没有人读书 也没有人提笔
在这个午后 没有诗人能测量
海上黑暗与朦胧的比例
理查德二世发明了手绢
当他在更晦暗的深蓝里
挥舞着红色的方巾
他看见了渺小的自己
自慰的简史
莎拉·尼克尔森 作天河 译我画森林却想起大麻。
鸟群，叽叽喳喳，
消失在毒气中。
日子由条抛物线捆起，
我恨自己，恨空气，恨日子，
最恨那群鸟。
秋天合成的音符，
开始让我思考。
冬天在墙上画鬼符。
没有书读没有书写，
这个下午，没有诗人能计算
昏暗与海水的比例。
理查二世发明了手帕，
他拿一小方红挥向
一大块抹不掉的蓝，
那天他觉得自己非常渺小。