To the Reader
Infatuation, sadism, lust, avarice
possess our souls and drain the body's force;
we spoonfeed our adorable remorse,
like whores or beggars nourishing their lice.
Our sins are mulish, our confessions lies;
we play to the grandstand with our promises,
we pray for tears to wash our filthiness;
importantly pissing hogwash through our styes.
The devil, watching by our sickbeds, hissed
old smut and folk-songs to our soul, until
the soft and precious metal of our will
boiled off in vapor for this scientist.
Each day his flattery makes us eat a toad,
and each step forward is a step to hell,
unmoved, through previous corpses and their smell
asphyxiate our progress on this road.
Like the poor lush who cannot satisfy,
we try to force our sex with counterfeits,
die drooling on the deliquescent tits,
mouthing the rotten orange we suck dry.
Gangs of demons are boozing in our brain —
ranked, swarming, like a million warrior-ants,
they drown and choke the cistern of our wants;
each time we breathe, we tear our lungs with pain.
If poison, arson, sex, narcotics, knives
have not yet ruined us and stitched their quick,
loud patterns on the canvas of our lives,
it is because our souls are still too sick.
Among the vermin, jackals, panthers, lice,
gorillas and tarantulas that suck
and snatch and scratch and defecate and fuck
in the disorderly circus of our vice,
there's one more ugly and abortive birth.
It makes no gestures, never beats its breast,
yet it would murder for a moment's rest,
and willingly annihilate the earth.
It's BOREDOM. Tears have glued its eyes together.
You know it well, my Reader. This obscene
beast chain-smokes yawning for the guillotine —
you — hypocrite Reader — my double — my brother!
致讀者１
愚蠢、謬誤、罪孽、吝嗇２，
它們佔據我們的靈魂，折磨我們的肉體，
就像乞丐餵養自己身上的虱子，
我們竟然哺育我們可愛的悔恨。
我們的罪孽深重，我們的悔恨無力;
我們想為懺悔獲取厚報，
我們高興地走上泥濘的小道，
自以為不值錢的淚水能洗盡污濁。
在惡之枕畔，三倍大的魔王３，
久久地搖晃我們的靈魂，使它走向麻木，
我們的意志貴如黃金，
卻被它這位高明的化學師化為輕煙。
正是這個魔鬼操縱著我們的生命線４，
我們竟甘願受它的誘惑，
一步一步墮入地獄，
穿過污濁的黑暗而不自知。
像一個赤貧的浪子，狂吻猛吸
老妓受盡凌辱的雙乳，
居然一路偷歡，竭力搾取幸福，
像擠搾乾癟的橙子。
如同無數蠕蟲，一群惡魔
麇集在我們的頭腦裡狂歡，
我們張口呼吸，胸中的死神，
就像無水之河，呻吟著幸福。
如果說兇殺、縱火、投毒、姦淫，
還不能用它那可笑的素描，
點綴我們可憐的平庸的命運５，
唉，那是我們的心不夠大膽６。
可是，在我們這污穢不堪的罪惡的動物世界裡，
所有正在狂吠、咆哮、亂爬，尖啼的豺狼、
虎豹、猴子、禿鷲、蛇蠍７，
以及各種怪物之中，
卻有一隻野獸，它更醜陋、更凶險、更卑劣！
雖然它並不凶相畢露，大喊大叫，
但它卻處心積慮地使人間淪為廢墟，
即使打呵欠也想吞沒整個世界。
這就是「厭倦」８——它不由自主地湧滿淚水，
吸著水煙９，夢想著斷頭台。
讀者，你認識它，這不好對付的怪物，
——虛偽的讀者10，——我的兄弟11，——我的同類！
[註釋]
１原詩最早發表於1855年6月1日《兩世界評論》，為組詩《惡之花》18首的第1首，標題為《致讀者》;收入1857年初版及1861年第2版《惡之花》時，亦用此標題，第3版（1868年版，由阿塞利諾和邦維爾編訂，戈蒂耶作序）改標題為《序》。
２列舉困擾現代人的各種罪惡。
３三倍大Trismégiste，古希臘神話中，希臘人對守護神赫梅斯（Hermès，羅馬神話中的麥丘裡Mercure）的別號，也是對埃及的大神多特（Thêt，Thoth，Tot 或Tehut）的尊稱。他是智慧、學問、魔術、煉金術之神。
４指邪惡之力。
５指不能大作為的平庸的命運。
６指平庸之人的平庸之行。
７這些可僧的動物象徵現代人的卑劣行徑。
８原為ennui，也作無聊解，含有厭惡、委靡、抑鬱、失意、鬱悶、憂鬱等意，是資產階級無法治癒的「世紀病」。
９水煙，原文Houka，應譯為水煙筒，此處意譯為水煙;東方印度、土爾其等地使用的煙具，轉入西方，成為藝術家的飾品之一。
10不僅指作者，讀者也具虛偽之質。
11源自詩人拉·馬丁的《信仰》（la Foi）中的詩句：「像我一樣，我的朋友，我的兄弟。」英國詩人艾略特（T·S·Eliot，1888‐1965）的名詩《荒原》（1922）第76行加以引用。
All nature is one temple, the living aisles whereof
Murmur in a soft language, half strange, half understood;
Man wanders there as through a cabalistic wood,
Aware of eyes that watch him in the leaves above.
Like voices echoing in his senses from beyond
Life's watery source, and which into one voice unite,
Vast as the turning planet clothed in darkness and light,
So do all sounds and hues and fragrances correspond.
Perfumes there are as sweet as the music of pipes and strings,
As pure as the naked flesh of children, as full of peace
As wide green prairies — and there are others, having the whole
Corrupt proud all-pervasiveness of infinite things,
Like frankincense, and musk, and myrrh, and ambergris,
That cry of the ecstasy of the body and of the soul.
契合１
大自然是座神殿２，那充滿活力的柱石，
時常發出神奇的聲音；
人們從此穿越像征的森林，
森林以熟識的目光將他注視。
正如悠悠的回聲遙遙的回應，
融入幽遠深邃的和諧之中，
像光明無邊無際，又似黑暗無窮無盡，
芳香、色澤、音響互為感知。
有的馨香清麗如幼兒的肌膚，
柔和如雙簧管的輕音，青翠如綠色，
另外一些，則已腐朽，涵蓋了萬物。
像無限無極的事物四散飛揚，
彷彿龍涎香、麝香、安息香和熏香，
渾然一體抒吐著性靈的振奮與感官的激昂。
[註釋]１原詩約寫於1845年左右，直接發表於初版的《惡之花》，位居第四首，其它各版亦同。原詩題是「CORRESPONDANCES」，是哲學、宗教、美學通用術語，亦譯作「感應」但譯者偏愛「契合」；我認為它更表現此詩的主題。２把自然比為神殿，是法國文學常見的比喻。
Her Hair
O fleece that down her nape rolls, plume on plume!
O curls! O scent of nonchalance and ease!
What ecstasy! To populate this room
With memories it harbours in its gloom,
I'd shake it like a banner on the breeze.
Hot Africa and languid Asia play
(An absent world, defunct, and far away)
Within that scented forest, dark and dim.
As other souls on waves of music swim,
Mine on its perfume sails, as on the spray.
I'll journey there, where man and sap-filled tree
Swoon in hot light for hours. Be you my sea,
Strong tresses! Be the breakers and gales
That waft me. Your black river holds, for me,
A dream of masts and rowers, flames and sails.
A port, resounding there, my soul delivers
With long deep draughts of perfumes, scent, and clamour,
Where ships, that glide through gold and purple rivers,
Fling wide their vast arms to embrace the glamour
Of skies wherein the heat forever quivers.
I'll plunge my head in it, half drunk with pleasure—
In this black ocean that engulfs her form.
My soul, caressed with wavelets there may measure
Infinite rocking in embalmed leisure,
Creative idleness that fears no storm!
Blue tresses, like a shadow-stretching tent,
You shed the blue of heavens round and far.
Along its downy fringes as I went
I reeled half-drunken to confuse the scent
Of oil of coconuts, with musk and tar.
My hand forever in your mane so dense,
Rubies and pearls and sapphires there will sow,
That you to my desire be never slow —
Oasis of my dreams, and gourd from whence
Deep-draughted wines of memory will flow.
頭髮
哦，濃密的頭髮直滾到脖子上！
哦，發卷，哦，充滿慵懶的香氣！
銷魂！為了今晚使陰暗的臥房
讓沉睡在頭髮中的回憶往上，
我把它像手帕般在空中搖曳。
懶洋洋的亞洲，火辣辣的非洲，
一個世界，遙遠，消失，幾乎死亡，
這芳香的森林在你深處居留！
像別人的精神在音樂上飄遊，
愛人！我的精神在香氣中蕩漾。
我將去那邊，樹和人精力旺盛，
都在赤日炎炎中長久地癡迷；
粗大的髮辮，請做載我的浪峰！
烏木色的海，你容納眩目的夢，
那裡有風帆、槳手、桅檣和彩旗；
喧鬧的港口，在那裡我的靈魂
大口地痛飲芳香、色彩和音響；
船隻在黃金和閃光綢中行進，
張開它們巨大的手臂來親吻
那顫動著炎熱的晴空的榮光。
我要將我那酷愛陶醉的腦袋，
埋進這海套著海的黑色大洋，
我微妙的精神，有船搖的撫愛，
將再度找到你，哦豐饒的倦怠！
香氣襲人之閒散的無盡搖蕩！
藍色的頭髮，黑夜張起的穹廬
你為我讓天空變得渾圓深廣，
在你那頭髮的岸邊絨毛細細，
我狂熱地陶醉於混合的香氣，
它們發自椰子油、柏油和麝香。
長久！永遠！你的頭髮又密又稠，
我的手把紅藍寶石、珍珠播種，
為了讓你永不拒絕我的欲求！
你可是令我神遊的一塊綠洲？
讓我大口地吮吸回憶之酒的瓶？
A Carcass
My love, do you recall the object which we saw,
That fair, sweet, summer morn!
At a turn in the path a foul carcass
On a gravel strewn bed,
Its legs raised in the air, like a lustful woman,
Burning and dripping with poisons,
Displayed in a shameless, nonchalant way
Its belly, swollen with gases.
The sun shone down upon that putrescence,
As if to roast it to a turn,
And to give back a hundredfold to great Nature
The elements she had combined;
And the sky was watching that superb cadaver
Blossom like a flower.
So frightful was the stench that you believed
You'd faint away upon the grass.
The blow-flies were buzzing round that putrid belly,
From which came forth black battalions
Of maggots, which oozed out like a heavy liquid
All along those living tatters.
All this was descending and rising like a wave,
Or poured out with a crackling sound;
One would have said the body, swollen with a vague breath,
Lived by multiplication.
And this world gave forth singular music,
Like running water or the wind,
Or the grain that winnowers with a rhythmic motion
Shake in their winnowing baskets.
The forms disappeared and were no more than a dream,
A sketch that slowly falls
Upon the forgotten canvas, that the artist
Completes from memory alone.
Crouched behind the boulders, an anxious dog
Watched us with angry eye,
Waiting for the moment to take back from the carcass
The morsel he had left.
— And yet you will be like this corruption,
Like this horrible infection,
Star of my eyes, sunlight of my being,
You, my angel and my passion!
Yes! thus will you be, queen of the Graces,
After the last sacraments,
When you go beneath grass and luxuriant flowers,
To molder among the bones of the dead.
Then, O my beauty! say to the worms who will
Devour you with kisses,
That I have kept the form and the divine essence
Of my decomposed love!
腐屍
愛人，想想我們曾經見過的東西，
在涼夏的美麗的早晨：
在小路拐彎處，一具醜惡的腐屍
在鋪石子的床上橫陳，
兩腿翹得很高，像個淫蕩的女子，
冒著熱騰騰的毒氣，
顯出隨隨便便、恬不知恥的樣子，
敞開充滿惡臭的肚皮。
太陽照射著這具腐敗的屍身，
好像要把它燒得熟爛，
要把自然結合在一起的養分
百倍歸還偉大的自然。
天空對著這壯麗的屍體凝望，
好像一朵開放的花苞，
臭氣是那樣強烈，你在草地之上
好像被熏得快要昏倒。
蒼蠅嗡嗡地聚在腐敗的肚子上，
黑壓壓的一大群蛆蟲
從肚子裡鑽出來，沿著臭皮囊，
像粘稠的膿一樣流動。
這些像潮水般洶湧起伏的蛆子
嘩啦嘩啦地亂撞亂爬，
好像這個被微風吹得膨脹的身體
還在度著繁殖的生涯。
這個世界奏出一種奇怪的音樂，１
像水在流，像風在鳴響，
又像簸谷者作出有節奏的動作，
用他的簸箕簸谷一樣。
形象已經消失，只留下夢影依稀，２
就像對著遺忘的畫布，
一位畫家單單憑著他的記憶，
慢慢描繪出一幅草圖。３
躲在岩石後面、露出憤怒的眼光
望著我們的焦急的狗，
它在等待機會，要從屍骸的身上
再攫取一塊剩下的肉。
——可是將來，你也要像這臭貨一樣，
像這令人恐怖的腐屍，
我的眼睛的明星，我的心性的太陽，
你、我的激情，我的天使！
是的！優美之女王，你也難以避免，
在領過臨終聖事之後，
當你前去那野草繁花之下長眠，
在白骨之間歸於腐朽。
那時，我的美人，請你告訴它們，
那些吻你吃你的蛆子，
舊愛雖已分解，可是，我已保存
愛的形姿和愛的神髓！
據普拉隆所述，此詩約作於一八四三年以前。直接
發表於初版《惡之花》。詩中的愛人指讓娜·迪瓦爾。
本詩對路旁的屍體作寫實的描繪，詩人並常在酒店和畫
室中朗誦，因而使他以「屍體文學的詩人」而聞名於世。
原題Une Charogoe，我國文獻中多譯作「死牲口」或
「死獸」，此處應為一「女屍」。
１指蒼蠅嗡嗡地飛，蛆蟲窸窸窣窣地鑽動。
２以上所述均為過去所見，現在回想起來，只留下夢
影而已。
３波德萊爾曾批評當時的風景畫家不重視憑記憶作畫，見《現代生活的畫家》中《記憶的藝術》。
Song of Autumn
I
Soon we shall plunge into the cold darkness;
Farewell, vivid brightness of our short-lived summers!
Already I hear the dismal sound of firewood
Falling with a clatter on the courtyard pavements.
All winter will possess my being: wrath,
Hate, horror, shivering, hard, forced labor,
And, like the sun in his polar Hades,
My heart will be no more than a frozen red block.
All atremble I listen to each falling log;
The building of a scaffold has no duller sound.
My spirit resembles the tower which crumbles
Under the tireless blows of the battering ram.
It seems to me, lulled by these monotonous shocks,
That somewhere they're nailing a coffin, in great haste.
For whom? — Yesterday was summer; here is autumn
That mysterious noise sounds like a departure.
秋歌
一
不久我們將淪入森冷的黑暗；
再會罷，太短促的夏天的驕陽！
我已經聽見，帶著慘愴的震撼，
枯木槭槭地落在庭院的階上。
整個冬天將竄入我的身；怨毒，
惱怒，寒噤，恐怖，懲役與苦工；
像寒日在北極的冰窖裡瑟縮，
我的心只是一塊冰冷的紅凍。
我戰兢地聽每條殘枝的傾墜；
建築刑台的迴響也難更瘖啞。
我的心靈像一座城樓的崩潰，
在撞角的沉重迫切的衝擊下。
我聽見，給這單調的震撼所搖，
彷彿有人在勿促地釘著棺材。
為誰呀？——昨兒是夏天；秋又來了！
這神秘聲響像是急迫的相催。
Spleen
I have more memories than if I'd lived a thousand years.
A heavy chest of drawers cluttered with balance-sheets,
Processes, love-letters, verses, ballads,
And heavy locks of hair enveloped in receipts,
Hides fewer secrets than my gloomy brain.
It is a pyramid, a vast burial vault
Which contains more corpses than potter's field.
— I am a cemetery abhorred by the moon,
In which long worms crawl like remorse
And constantly harass my dearest dead.
I am an old boudoir full of withered roses,
Where lies a whole litter of old-fashioned dresses,
Where the plaintive pastels and the pale Bouchers,
Alone, breathe in the fragrance from an opened phial.
Nothing is so long as those limping days,
When under the heavy flakes of snowy years
Ennui, the fruit of dismal apathy,
Becomes as large as immortality.
— Henceforth you are no more, O living matter!
Than a block of granite surrounded by vague terrors,
Dozing in the depths of a hazy Sahara
An old sphinx ignored by a heedless world,
Omitted from the map, whose savage nature
Sings only in the rays of a setting sun.
憂鬱
我有比活了一千年更多的回憶。
一只在抽屜裡塞滿帳單、詩詞、
情書、訴狀、抒情歌曲以及用收據
包裹著一些濃密的頭髮的大櫥，
也不及我煩悶的腦子藏著這樣
多的秘密。它乃是金字塔、大墳場，
它收容了比萬人塚更多的死屍。
——我是一塊連月亮也厭惡的墓地，
那兒，爬行著長蚯蚓，像悔恨一樣，
老是纏住我最親愛的死者不放。
我是充滿枯薔薇的舊日女客廳，
雜亂地放著一些過時的流行品，
發愁的粉畫，布歇（註一）的褪色的油繪，
獨自發出拔塞的香水瓶的香味。
在多雪之年的沉重的雪花下面，
當陰鬱的冷淡所結的果實——厭倦，
正在擴大成為不朽之果的時光，
還有什麼比這跛行的歲月更長？
——活著的物質呀，今後，你不過是一塊
在多霧的撒哈拉沙漠深處沉睡、
被茫茫的恐怖所包圍的花崗石！
不過是個不見知於冷淡的人世、
古老的人面獅，在地圖上被遺忘，
野性難馴，只會對夕陽之光歌唱。
註一：布歇（Francois Boucher，1703-1770）法國，蝕刻畫家，洛可可藝術代表畫家之一。
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