Warsan Shire，出生于1988年8月1日，1岁时作为索马里难民随父母移居英国。
我的房子
i
母亲说所有女人体内都有上锁的房间；满厨房的欲望，
满卧室的悲伤，满浴室的漠不关心。
有时候男人——他们带着钥匙来，
有时候，男人——他们带着斧子来。
ii
Nin soo joog laga waayo, soo jiifso aa laga helaa,
我说停，我说别但他并不理睬。
iii
也许她自有计划，也许她把他带回自己那里
只为让他可以几小时后醒在装满冰的浴缸中，
口干舌燥，低下头看到自己干净利落的新活计。
iv
我指着自己的身体说噢你说这个老东西？不，这是我刚穿上的。
v
你是要吃那个吗？我对母亲说，指着躺在餐厅桌子上的父亲，他的嘴里塞着一个红苹果。
vi
我的身体越大，就有越多上锁的房间，就有越多男人带着钥匙来。去应门并不能让它一路长驱直入，我仍好奇他本应在我体内打开些什么。巴塞尔来过但在门边踌躇了三年。蓝眼睛的约翰尼来过还带着一套他在其他女人身上用过的工具：一把簪子，一瓶漂白剂，一柄弹簧刀和一罐凡士林。尤瑟夫从钥匙孔里呼喊着上帝之名但没有回音。有人恳求过，有人从我身体侧面爬上来想找一扇窗户，有人说马上就来但至今未曾出现。
vii
用娃娃告诉我们你哪里被碰触了，他们说。
我说我不像娃娃，我像一座房子。
他们说用房子告诉我们。
像这样：两根手指伸进果酱罐
像这样：手肘泡进洗澡水
像这样：一只手伸进抽屉。
viii
我应该和你说说我第一个爱人，他九年前在我左胸底下发现了一扇暗门，掉进去就再没有出现。有
时候我会觉得什么东西正顺着我大腿往上爬。他应该大声喊的，也许我会放他出去。我希望他没有
碰到过别人，从小镇上失踪的男孩子们，有着和蔼可亲的母亲，做坏事之后就陷在了
我头发的迷宫里。我待他们很好，一片面包，如果运气好还有一块水果。蓝眼睛的约翰尼除外，他撬开锁溜了进来。傻孩子，被栓在我满是恐惧的地下室里，我放音乐吓唬他。
ix
咚，咚。
是谁？
谁也没有。
x
派对上我指着自己的身体说这就是爱情等死的地方。欢迎，快进来，把这儿当自己家就好。大家笑了起来，以为我在开玩笑。
The House
i
Mother says there are locked rooms inside all women; kitchen of lust,
bedroom of grief, bathroom of apathy.
Sometimes the men - they come with keys,
and sometimes, the men - they come with hammers.
ii
Nin soo joog laga waayo, soo jiifso aa laga helaa,
I said Stop, I said No and he did not listen.
iii
Perhaps she has a plan, perhaps she takes him back to hers
only for him to wake up hours later in a bathtub full of ice,
with a dry mouth, looking down at his new, neat procedure.
iv
I point to my body and say Oh this old thing? No, I just slipped it on.
v
Are you going to eat that? I say to my mother, pointing to my father who is lying on the dining room table, his mouth stuffed with a red apple.
vi
The bigger my body is, the more locked rooms there are, the more men come with keys. Anwar didn’t push it all the way in, I still think about what he could have opened up inside of me. Basil came and hesitated at the door for three years. Johnny with the blue eyes came with a bag of tools he had used on other women: one hairpin, a bottle of bleach, a switch blade and a jar of Vaseline. Yusuf called out God’s name through the keyhole and no one answered. Some begged, some climbed the side of my body looking for a window, some said they were on their way and did not come.
vii
Show us on the doll where you were touched, they said.
I said I don’t look like a doll, I look like a house.
They said Show us on the house.
Like this: two fingers in the jam jar
Like this: an elbow in the bathwater
Like this: a hand in the drawer.
viii
I should tell you about my first love who found a trapdoor under my left breast nine years ago, fell in and hasn’t been seen since. Every
now and then I feel something crawling up my thigh. He should make himself known, I’d probably let him out. I hope he hasn’t
bumped in to the others, the missing boys from small towns, with pleasant mothers, who did bad things and got lost in the maze of
my hair. I treat them well enough, a slice of bread, if they’re lucky apiece of fruit. Except for Johnny with the blue eyes, who picked my locks and crawled in. Silly boy, chained to the basement of my fears,I play music to drown him out.
ix
Knock knock.
Who’s there?
No one.
x
At parties I point to my body and say This is where love comes to die. Welcome, come in, make yourself at home. Everyone laughs, they think I’m joking.
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发表于 2018-3-11 10:53
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发表于 2018-3-12 10:10
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