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莫笑愚de午夜驪歌

一個人de獨舞——在文字構築的視覺花園。

 
 
 

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一个孤独的旅人,一个人生的探险者,一个人间过客。从东半球到西半球,从城市到城市,从落日到落日,流浪、行走、品味生活。在命运之河驾一叶扁舟,用虔诚的朝圣者灵魂,赞美荆棘、爱和死亡。

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【原创译文】诗人与沙皇——从普希金到普金:俄国民主童话的悲哀(三)  

2013-07-09 23:18:24|  分类: 莫笑译诗 |  标签: |举报 |字号 订阅

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【原创译文】诗人与沙皇——从普希金到普金:俄国民主童话的悲哀(三) - 莫笑愚 - 莫笑愚de午夜骊歌

 

 

 

从普希金到普金:俄国民主童话的悲哀(三)

作者:米克黑尔.希什金

 

我的新俄罗斯必须从儿童开始,随着苏联改革的推出,我决定去学校工作。在俄罗斯,不像在德国或瑞士,学校处于社会阶梯的最底层,大约是因为那里没什么值得巧取豪夺。在那些年里,我开始第一次相信,有些事情取决于我自己。我希望改变我的祖国,而在学校工作正是改变它的一条途径。 突然之间,我感到自己处于这个最重要时代的最重要的位置。结果,按照监狱规则进行的生活——最强壮的得到最好的囚室——似乎正在结束,而新的规则正开始形成,生活依据一项核心的规则展开:即保护人类尊严的法则。 这对我而言,似乎是我在改变这个国家。极权主义制度在我的眼皮底下正在蜕变成一个民主制度。这实在是一种惊人的感觉:我们被作为教化的奴隶养大,然后,突然之间,你对围绕你的一切富有责任。

1991年8月以及反改革的政变成为令人作呕的过时的苏联和在当时看起来充满希望的光明的未来之间的分水岭和边界。我们相信,经过一个残暴的世纪,这个国家用血腥展现了自己,而有尊严的人的生活正在开始——更重要的是,这里将不会再有流血。事实是,未遂政变并未夺去几千人的生命似乎只具有象征性。这个国家的自由是由三位年轻人的生命换来的。 我们参加了他们的葬礼。具有象征意义的是,他们其中一位是东正教徒,一位是穆斯林,还有一位是犹太人。在他们的葬礼上,人们相信这三位年轻人把自己的生命献给了大众的自由,献给了一个新的自由的俄罗斯。

我也相信了,他们的血将是洒在我的祖国的最后的鲜血。但是,呜呼,那只不过是这个新俄国的第一滴血。希望终结的时刻也是幻灭开始的时刻。1993年10月,新的“民主”国家正是在莫斯科向它自己的人民开炮的国家。 在无止境的犯罪冲突中俄罗斯大街小巷血流成河。1994年,车臣战争爆发。透过民主言论的面纱,人们可以再次看见古老的、永恒的俄国的轮廓。

1991年,我们可以把自己从共产主义统治中拯救出来,但是我们却不能将自己从我们自己中拯救出来。我们原来太天真。一切曾经看起来简单而清晰:我们的祖国曾经被一帮共产主义者绑架了,假如我们只要能够驱逐这个政党,边境将会打开,我们将会重返全球大家庭的怀抱,依照民主、自由、尊重个人权利的规则生活。比如这些词汇,仿佛来自不可实现的未来的童话:“议会”、“共和”、“宪法”、“选举”。

因为某种原因,我们忘记了,我们已经拥有了所有这些词汇。我们有斯大林的1936年的宪法,那是“全世界最民主的宪法”,而我们也经常被动员在选举中投票。我们忘记了,所有这些跨过边境的好的词汇已经失去了它们本来的意义,而开始被完全扭曲变得风马牛不相及。谁会想到,共产党会离开,我们会留下,而所有最好的词汇——“民主”和“议会”以及“宪法”——会仅仅成为新的自由的俄罗斯为权力和金钱的永恒争斗中的警棍?

卫兵被证明不可能被驱逐出去,因为我们每个人就是我们自己最好的卫兵。尽管你不镇压监狱的反叛,它最终将自行终止,并且在我们国家的监狱里,它终止于每个人返回到栅栏背后。究其结果,我们不得不活着。而秩序自动复位,这是些完全相同的秩序,因为在俄国每个人只熟悉这一种秩序。最好的囚室再次回到最强壮者手中,他们把那些虚弱的挤到了马桶边上栖息。

俄罗斯对民主的第二次尝试就这样结束了。帝国已经蜕去表皮,但从另一面涌现的是那些从“快乐旧时光”中走过来的人们痛苦而熟悉的一切。在20年的时间内,事情变得相当明晰,俄罗斯对民主的再教育已经被贬低到只是隐藏社会中犯罪团伙和政府的说辞。黑手党,正如他们在其他国家存在的那样——也即,与政府平行(的势力)——在俄罗斯并不存在。在俄罗斯,政府即黑手党,是法律和社会的头号敌人。

人民感觉受了蒙骗。他们被民主口号的调调洗劫了。一个前共产党和共青团官员的帮派瓜分了这个国家的自然资源,并且蜂拥着将它们卖掉变现一夜暴富,而全不考虑这个国家的未来。这正是绝大多数俄罗斯人对1990年代以来的改革的看法。一而再地,俄罗斯永恒的块垒在21世纪的化装舞会上熠熠生辉:一帮窃贼、官僚分子、瓜分国家财富的寡头、以及贫困的酗酒的民众。政府资源中分配给社会需求的绝大部分从未到达目标,而是流入了官僚们的私人腰包。一个绝妙的例子是,根据这个国家的超级溜冰员一时兴起的念头,在亚热带举办了冬季奥运会。在这届冬奥会上所花费的金额超过了此前所有冬奥会花费的总和。*

 ************************************

注: *    绝大多数金钱被政府和地方官员窃取。

 

 

(莫笑愚译,待续)

 

 

-------------------------------------------------------------

附录(译者所加):普希金诗歌《致大海》

 

   致 大 海

 

再见吧,自由的原素!

最后一次了,在我眼前

你的蓝色的浪头翻滚起伏,

你的骄傲的美闪烁壮观。

仿佛友人的忧郁的絮语,

仿佛他别离一刻的招呼,

最后一次了,我听着你的

喧声呼唤,你的沉郁的吐诉。

我全心渴望的国度啊,大海!

多么常常地,在你的岸上

我静静地,迷惘地徘徊,

苦思着我那珍爱的愿望。

啊,我多么爱听你的回声,

那喑哑的声音,那深渊之歌,

我爱听你黄昏时分的幽静,

和你任性的脾气的发作!

渔人的渺小的帆凭着

你的喜怒无常的保护

在两齿之间大胆地滑过,

但你若汹涌起来,无法克服,

成群的渔船就会覆没。

直到现在,我还不能离开

这令我厌烦的凝固的石岸,

我还没有热烈地拥抱你,大海!

也没有让我的诗情的波澜

随着你的山脊跑开!

你在期待,呼唤……我却被缚住,

我的心徒然想要挣脱开,

是更强烈的感情把我迷住,

于是我在岸边留下来……

有什么可顾惜的?而今哪里

能使我奔上坦荡的途径?

在你的荒凉中,只有一件东西

也许还激动我的心灵。

一面峭壁,一座光荣的坟墓……

那里,种种伟大的回忆

已在寒冷的梦里沉没,

啊,是拿破仑熄灭在那里。

他已经在苦恼里长眠。

紧随着他,另一个天才

象风暴之间驰过我们面前,

啊,我们心灵的另一个主宰。

他去了,使自由在悲泣中!

他把自己的桂冠留给世上。

喧腾吧,为险恶的天时而汹涌,

噢,大海!他曾经为你歌唱。

他是由你的精气塑成的,

海啊,他是你的形象的反映;

他象你似的深沉、有力、阴郁,

他也倔强得和你一样。

世界空虚了……哦,海洋,

现在你还能把我带到哪里?

到处,人们的命运都是一样:

哪里有幸福,必有教育

或暴君看守得非常严密。

再见吧,大海!你壮观的美色

将永远不会被我遗忘;

我将久久地,久久地听着

你在黄昏时分的轰响。

心里充满了你,我将要把

你的山岩,你的海湾,

你的光和影,你的浪花的喋喋,

带到森林,带到寂静的荒原。

 

 

====================================

附原文(英文译文):

My new Russia has to begin with the kids, I decided, and with the launch of perestroika, I went to work in a school. In Russia, unlike in Germany or Switzerland, a school is at the very bottom of the social ladder, likely because there is nothing to steal there. In those years, I began to believe for the first time that something depended on me. I wanted to change my country, and working at a school was exactly the way to change it. Suddenly I felt that I was in the most important place at the most important time. It seemed that, finally, life according to prison rules—the strongest gets the best bunk—was ending in Russia, and a new one was beginning, lived according to one central rule: the law of protecting human dignity. It seemed to me that it was I who was changing the country. The totalitarian system was molting into a democratic one before my eyes. It was an astonishing feeling: we had been raised to be obedient slaves, and then, all of a sudden, you were taking responsibility for all that was around you.

August 1991 and the failed coup against the reformers became the boundary, the border, between the nauseating Soviet past and—as it seemed then—the bright future, full of hope. We believed that over the course of a violent century the country had sated itself with enough blood, and that a dignified human life was beginning—and that, most importantly, there would be no more blood. The fact that the failed putsch did not cost thousands of lives seemed symbolic. The country’s freedom was bought with the lives of three young men. We went to their funerals. And it was also symbolic that one was Russian Orthodox, one a Muslim, and one a Jew. At their funerals it was said that these three youths had given their lives for our common freedom, for a new and free Russia.

I, too, believed that theirs would be the last blood spilled in my country. But alas, it was but the first blood of the new Russia. The time of hope ended and the time of disillusionment began. In October 1993, the new “democratic” state was the one shelling its own people in Moscow. Blood ran in the streets of Russian cities in endless criminal conflicts. In 1994, the Chechen war broke out. Through the veil of democratic rhetoric, one could again discern the outlines of old, eternal Russia. 

In 1991, we were able to free ourselves of Communist rule, but we were unable to free ourselves from ourselves. We had been naive. Everything had seemed simple and clear: our country had been hijacked by a band of Communists, and if we could just chase out the party, the borders would open and we would return to the global family of nations living according to the laws of democracy, freedom, and respect for individual rights. They were like the words of a fairy tale of an unattainable future: “parliament,” “republic,” “constitution,” “elections.”

For some reason, we neglected to remember that we already had all these words. We had Stalin’s Constitution of 1936, which was “the most democratic constitution in the world,” and we were regularly mobilized to vote in elections. We forgot that all the good words crossing our borders lost their original meanings and began to mean anything other than what they were supposed to mean. Who would have thought that the Communist Party would leave but we would stay, and all the best words—“democracy” and “parliament” and “constitution”—would become just the billy clubs in the eternal struggle for power and money in the new, free Russia?

The guards proved impossible to chase out because each of us was our own best guard. Even if you don’t quash the rebellion in the prison yard, it will eventually end on its own, and in the prison yard of our country it ended with everyone returning to their barracks. We had to live, after all. And order returned on its own, the very same order because no one in Russia knows a different one. The best bunks again went to the strongest, who had consigned the weakest among them to sleep by the latrine. 

Russia’s second attempt at democracy was over. The empire had shed its skin, but what came through on the other side was painfully familiar to those who had lived in “the good old days.” In the course of twenty years, it became clear that democratic re-education in Russia had been debased as mere words that hid the gangster organization of society and the government. The Mafia, as it exists in other countries—that is, parallel to the government—does not exist in Russia. In Russia, the Mafia is the government, the arch-enemy of law and society.

People feel duped. They were robbed to the tune of democratic slogans. A gang of former party and Komsomol functionaries divided up the country’s natural resources, and are rushing to sell them off to get rich today, not thinking about the country’s tomorrow. This is how the overwhelming majority of the population views the reforms of the 1990s. Once again Russia’s eternal constants glow vividly amid the masquerade of the twenty-first century: a bunch of thieves, bureaucrats, and oligarchs appropriating the wealth of the country as an indigent population drowns itself in booze. The money from the pilfered resources flows to the West instead of being invested in roads, schools, and hospitals in Russia. The vast portion of government resources allocated to social needs never reaches its target, and is diverted instead to bureaucrats’ pockets. A marvelous example is the Winter Olympics, which are being held in the subtropics on the whim of the country’s supreme skier. The sum being spent on these games is greater than what has been spent on all the previous Winter Olympics combined.*

 

 

 ======================

Note:  *   Most of this money was stolen by the government and local officials.

 

 

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