Kevin M. Buckley
英国诗人汉娜·洛,在意大利的处于疫情紧急状况中,向 "il bel paese(意大利) "倾注了她的感情。并获得了英国最重要的诗歌奖之一。
当汉娜-洛威(Hannah Lowe)被问及是否愿意为《法拉利官方杂志》写一首诗时,她承认起初有点惊讶。"说实话,我并不懂汽车,所以能在汽车杂志上发表,而且是法拉利,这是我从未想过的事情。"这位43岁的英国诗人表示。
当电话打来时,她正在由于严格的Covid-19疫情封锁,待在伦敦北部的家中。
虽然汉娜从二十八岁时就开始写诗,她承认最初有些畏惧。
"我接受了这个任务,但也必须承认我也问自己,'到底对意大利了解多少?"她谦虚地回忆道。
"但后来,当我更深入地思考,探索我的生活经历时,就能够衷心喜欢这个想法。我意识到,意大利并非我想象中的那么远。"
在西西里岛和撒丁岛度假的经历,让她更了解意大利,但其实早在2012年,她赢得都灵写作课程的名额时,"il bel paese(意大利) "已开始渗入她的诗歌创作意识。她为TOFM制作的作品《在意大利,恋爱》,前言是该国二十世纪最有成就的诗人之一萨尔瓦托-卡西莫多(Salvatore Quasimodo)的三行名作。
"我是卡西莫多的崇拜者",汉娜说。"而且,我还选择用三行诗节的格式来写这首诗,以向但丁-阿利吉耶里(Dante Alighier)致敬,他以这种'terzine(三行诗节)'结构的写作方式而闻名。"
继在《官方法拉利杂志》上的首发成功后,汉娜很快又获得了英国最重要的诗歌奖项之一--年度乔尔蒙德利奖(Cholmondeley Awards)。
她欣喜万分。乔尔蒙德利奖由作家协会颁发给诗人的作品而非单首诗,过去曾有一些文学名家获得该奖,如Seamus Heaney、Derek Walcott、Vernon Scannell、Kingsley Amis、Ian Crichton-Smith和Roger McGough。2019年的桂冠诗人Carol Ann Duffy也是过去的获奖者。
"它让我有机会思考我在意大利以及与意大利人相关的许多积极经验",从大学朋友法比亚诺和长期室友丹妮拉,到她自己到伦敦小意大利的游览,在苏荷区老康普顿街附近的著名意大利酒吧品尝咖啡,各种回忆。
"当我想到意大利时,第一印象是时尚和魅力,没错,但最重要的是,我把意大利与时尚精髓联系在一起。"她说。"当然,法拉利也是其中非常重要的一部分。"
她对意大利的描述主要为 "轻松、幽默。但是,"她强调,"我试图避免陷入陈词滥调之中,我加入了很多我所知道的意大利内容。比如说,人们都围在餐桌旁的场景,是我在都灵时的记忆。就是这样。"
的确,《在意大利,恋爱》这首诗中,无疑成功地反映了意大利文化核心的 "生活乐趣",情感和激情。而这些,也正是法拉利的标志。
by Hannah Lowe
In Italy, I decide to fall in love. It’s April,
a man writes me love letters, soft entreaties
that drift into my inbox like rose petals
and from my fifth-floor room of the Pensione Orizzonte
I watch the river flow steady and passionate
as my waiting heart. Each day I cross the city
to the airy white classroom where we sit
and learn to tell stories – which details matter,
how to deepen character, what to keep, to cut?
At lunch, I drink espresso with my teacher
in the smoky blue-tiled bar next door
where an old man tells a long garrulous saga
I think he’s told a hundred times before.
Back in my room, my love sends poems by Eugenio
Montale: portami il girasole. He wants me, he is so sure.
I re-watch clips from Cinema Paradiso,
fire, film, desire, love’s comfort, love’s pain –
I want a man, any man, below my window,
waiting in all weathers, in torrential rain
that makes his shirt transparent so I can see
the shining ruby of his heart below his skin.
At night, my class eat dinner at the Café Giovanni –
we’re strangers, but at the long table, the flow
of Sangiovese has us laughing and weepy
while the waiter shaves parmigiano as though
conducting an orchestra. I eat ribollita,
arancini, a spring green risotto –
so rousing, squisito, the taste, the texture,
I hide the bliss on my face behind a tissue.
Later, naked on the bedcovers, I wonder
what I am in love with, the man with his honeydew
of words, or this city, this country?
I watch the scene from A Room with a View
where the English girl is finally kissed
on a thundery hillside in Tuscany.
Where else could a kiss like that exist?
It needs wild flowers, Tuscan light, Puccini.
Oh I want to be kissed like that, to be kissed and kissed –