i offer you the bitterness of a an who has looked long and long at the lonely oon
i offer you y ancestors, y dead n, the ghosts that livg n have honoured arble:
y father’s father killed the frontier ofbuenos aires, o bullets through his ngs, bearded and dead, wrapped by his ldiers the hide of a w;
y other’s grandfather -jt entyfour- headg a char of three hundred n peru, now ghosts on vanished horses
i offer you whatever sight y books ay hold,whatever anless or huour y life
i offer you the loyalty of a an who has never been loyal
i offer you that kernel of yself that i have saved how -the central heart that deals not words, traffics not with dreas and is untouched by ti, by joy, by adversities
i offer you the ory of a yellow rose seen at sunset, years before you were born
i offer you expnationf yourself, theories about yourself, authentic and surprisg news of yourself
ican give you y loneless, y darkness, the hunr of y heart;
i a tryg to bribe you with uncertaty, with danr, with defeat
--
(我用什么才能留住你?
我给你贫穷的街道、绝望的日落、破败郊区的月亮。
我给你一个久久地望着孤月的人的悲哀。
我给你我已死去的先辈,人们用大理石纪念他们的幽灵:
在布宜偌斯艾利斯边境阵亡的我父亲的父亲,两颗子弹穿了他的胸膛。蓄着胡子的他死去了,士兵们用牛皮裹起他的尸体;
我母亲的祖父——时年二十四岁——在秘鲁率领三百名士兵冲锋,如今都成了消失的马背上的幽灵。
我给你我写的书中所能包含的一切悟力、我生活中所能有的男子气概或幽默。
我给你一个从未有过信仰人的忠诚。
我给你我设法保全的我自己的核心——不营字造句,不和梦想交易,不被时间、欢乐和逆境触动的核心。
我给你,早在你出生前多年的一个傍晚看到的一朵黄玫瑰的记忆。
我给你对自己的解释,关于你自己的理论,你自己的真实而惊人的消息。
我给你我的寂寞、我的黑暗、我心的饥渴;
我试图用困惑、危险、失败来打动你。)2
6
管锌手臂有轻微的动作,靖岳立马握住,放在唇边一点一点儿地啄着,眼泪随地心引力滑落,靖岳没有伸手去抹,管锌的手指在他脸上颤颤巍巍地浮着,靖岳含住,声泪俱下。