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孤月颂
一天晚上，月亮来到酒吧
每个人都想和他打一架。
一看那张脸，如此坑洼又苍白，
连最好脾气的都恨不得揍他一顿。
他站在吧台前，手里拿着一瓶啤酒，
转动着他那双放肆的眼球，
他那不可捉摸的眼中露出的光芒
激怒了那里的每一位酒鬼。
可怜的苍白的老月亮，可怜的心软的月亮，
酒保让他离开。
于是他飘浮起来，被赶回了天空，
在那里闪耀，闪耀，悲伤。
ode to the loneliness of the moon
the moon came down to thepub one night
and everyone wanted to fight him.
one look at that face, so pitted and white,
and the mildesr man hankered to smite him.
he stood at the bar with apint in his hand,
swivelling his monny stare,
and the ray of his rampant anonymous eye
provoked every drinker in there.
poor pallid old moon, poor pitiful moon,
the bartender asked him to leave.
so he floated, rejected, back into the sky,
there to shine, and to shine, and to grieve.
by James Parker
量子物理学之我见颂
我是粒子。你是波。
你的存在影响着我的行为。
（老威廉·布莱克，他曾说过：
“眼睛的改变，改变了一切。”）
我们从远处相互作用。
我在开车的时候想着你。
我们周围的一切都保持着它们的形状
同时包含着一种宇宙风暴。
冰箱、地板和七月四日
是一片模糊的核的沸腾。
设置计时器的白矮星在哪里？
可能是蚁人或奥本海默。
如果你想要的话，我的原子就是你的原子。
量子世界就是这么回事。
ode to my idea of quantum physics
i am a particle. you are a wave.
the presence of you affects how i behave.
(old william blake, he made the call:
"the eye altering, alters all.)
we act on each other from afar.
i think about you while i'm driving my car.
and all things around us hold their form
while containing a species of cosmic storm.
the fridge and the floor and the fourth of july
are a seethe of equivocal nuclei.
where's the white dwarf who set the timer?
could have been Ant-man or oppenheimer.
my atoms are your atoms, if you wantthem.
and that's how it is in the realm of quantum.
by James Parker
死亡颂
远离了光之压力，
摆脱了欲之纠缠，
安然于神篱之下又超然于心剑之上，
没有了烦人的梦境，
那最近狂吠的人现在在地球的长缝中安然入睡。
超越了一切
他们在最终的站点休息，
没有职责压身，没有诉讼点名，
没有人关心他们说了什么。
我刷着牙，如释重负地想着
那肃穆而舒爽的死者。
ode to being dead
far from the pressure of light,
released from appetite,
safe under the hedge and beyond the heart's edge,
out of the reach of bothering dreams,
they who raved recently now sleep decently in earth's long seams.
surpassing all situations
they rest at their final stations,
no duties claim them, no lawsuits name them,
and nobody cares what they said.
i brush my teeth and think with relief of the
sober and comfortable dead.
by James Parker
匮乏颂
我为我的鬼魂做了一块吐司，问他最喜欢哪种果酱。
我的鬼魂说他喜欢杏子果酱。
我说：“该死，
这是我唯一没有的果酱。”
ode to insufficiency
i made my ghost
a piece of toast
and asked which jam he like most.
my ghost said he liked apricot.
and i said "damn,
that's the one kind of jam
i haven't got."
by James Parker
冥想颂
不要思考。
让大脑的所有产物都成为
闪亮的零流。
保持安静不动。
安静不动是一种刺激。
不要对自己说任何话。让话语
像刺痛的剑一样平躺。
把性爱放在一边。
处理裤裆里的痒痒
要改日了。
（此时，
如果你发现自己
意识到了精神的喧嚣，
被一个咧嘴大笑的零蛋追赶，
两只乌鸦拉扯着你的肠子，
一只朝一个方向，一只朝另一个方向，
一根红屌在你面前升起，像偶像一样木然，
恭喜你了：你正在冥想。）
ode to meditation
think no thoughts.
let all the brain's productions be
a flow of shining noughts.
be still.
stillness is a thrill.
say nothing to yourself. let words
lie flat like tingling swords.
put sex away.
you'll attend to the itch in the underpants
another day.
(at this point,
should you find yourself
in awarehouse of mental din,
pursued by a grinning zilch,
with two ravens tugging at your intestines,
one going one way, one going the other,
and a red phallus rising before you, mute as an idol,
congratulations: you're meditating.)
by James Parker
选自《让我再撑五分钟》2024年出版 《大西洋月刊》特约撰稿人 占木寺 葩客 James Parker