夏尔作品

致以维埃拉·达·席尔瓦的九种感谢

1：宫殿与房子

巴黎今天完成了。我要生活在这里。我的手臂不再把我的灵魂远远地抛掷到远方。我应该在这里。

2：空间里

太阳低飞，低得犹如鸟儿。夜晚熄灭它们俩。我爱它们。

3：真的是她

低沉的夜晚和痛苦折磨的大地。

夜晚，我的叶簇和我的土地。

4：格架

我并不孤独，因为我被遗弃。我孤独，因为我孤独，它那环绕之墙内的杏树。

5：众神归来了

众神归来了，同伴。

他们刚刚进入这种生活，但在那张开的词语下面，为了同时折磨我们，那废止的词语也归来了。

6：回音中的阿尔汀

我们在银河的躯体中奢华的混合，一间最高层的卧室，适合那在别处会冻结于夜里的我们俩

7：献给每天直至最后一天的摇篮曲

无数次，次数的任何数字，

人熟睡，被自己的躯体唤醒；

然后一度来临，仅有一次，

人熟睡，丢失自己的躯体。

8：给属于我的人

我触碰那辽阔的苍天，我能让它熊熊燃烧。我保留我的宽度，我知道怎样把它展开。但没有你那妒忌的蜂群，欲望又有什么价值？没有草甸的色彩，毛就变得迟钝。当你出现，我的手就会召唤你，我的手的小怪物，依然活跃。然而除了你，还有什么美？……什么美？

9：芦苇中的莺

那最是暴露于鸟枪眼睛的树，并不是适合它的翅膀的树。那移动极快的人预先得到警告：它会在沉默中穿过。它那难以捉摸的爪子努力抓，又立即放弃柳树上的栖息处。但从它在丛生的芦苇中的降落处，多美的短抒情曲响起！它在这里歌吟，一轮完整的水月，那只莺重复：“自由，自由，自由，自由……”

注： ① 葡萄牙抽象派画家（1908－1992）。

NINE THANKS FORVIEIRA DA SILVA

I： Palaces and Houses

Paris is finished today. I'll live here. My arm no longer flings my soul faraway into the distance. I belong.

II： In Space

The sun was flying low， as low as the bird. Night extinguished them both. I loved them.

IlI： It Is Really She

Earth of low night and torments.

Night， my foliage and my glebe.

IV ： Grillwork

I am not alone because I am abandoned. I am alone because I am alone， almond within the walls of its enclosure.

V： The Gods Have Returned

The gods have returned， companions.

They've just now entered this life； but beneath the word that opens， the word that revokes has come back too， in order to torment us together.

VI： Artine in the Echo

Our sumptuous intermingling in the body of the milky way， a bedroom at the summit for the two of us， who elsewhere in the night would freeze.

Vll： Lullaby for Everyday until the Last

Numerous times， any number of times， Man falls asleep， he is waked by his body； Then comes a time， only one time， Man falls asleep and loses his body.

Vlll： To Those Who Are Mine

I touch on the expanse and I can set it blazing. I retain my breadth， I know how to unfold it. But of what value is desire without your jealous swarm？ The buttercup is dulled without the meadows' hue. When you appear， my hand will summon you， the little monster of my hand， still lively. But， apart from you， what beauty？ ......what beauty？

IX： The Warbler in the Reeds

The tree most exposed to the shotgun's eye is not a tree for her wing. The quicksilver one is forewarned： she will pass through in silence. Her fugitive claw grapples and gives up at once a perch in the willow. But from her landing place in the clustered reeds， what cavatinas！ It is here that she sings. As the whole world knows.

Summer， the river， spaces， lovers hidden away， a whole water-moon， the warbler repeats，“Free， free， free， free……