Oda al tiempo venidero Ode to the time to Come 未來之頌
Tiempo, me llamas. Antes Time, you call me. Before 時間，你呼喚我。以前
eras you were 曾是
espacio puro, pure space, 純空間，
ancha pradera. wide prairie. 廣濶的草原 。
Hoy Today 今天
hilo y g ta you are 你是
eres, thread and drop, 線與滴 ，
luz delgada slender light 纖纖之光
que corre como liebre hacia las zarzas that runs like a hare towards brambles.猶野兔般奔向夜
de la cóncava noche. of the concave night. 那凹下的灌叢。
Pero But 但
ahora now 現在
me dices, tiempo, aquello time, you tell me that which 時間，你對我說
que ayer no me dijiste: you didn't tell me: 昨天沒說的：
tus pasos apresura Step up your paces, 加快步履
tu corazon reposa rest your heart 放鬆心情
desarolla tu canto. develop your song. 引吭高歌。
El mismo soy. No soy? Quien, en el cauce I'm the same. I'm not? Who 我仍是我。不是？誰可
de las aguas que corren can idenfify a river 從水流的河床
identifica el rio? from the bed of its running water? 認出河流?
Solo sé que alli mismo I only know that from that place 我衹知從那一地方
en una sola puerta my heart knocks 我心衹敲
mi corazón golpea, at that door alone , 一扇門 ，
desde ayer, desde lejos, since yesterday, since faraway, 自昨天，自恆久，
desde entonces, since then, 自那時，
desde mi nacimiento. since my birth. 自我出生。
Allí There 那兒
donde reponde where the dark echo 在那
el eco oscuro answers 回響幽幽
del mar the singing sea 回應
que canta y canto and I sing 海歌的地方，
y que and where 我亦歌唱
conozco I only 我衹
sólo know 從其漫無目的之哨聲
por un ciego silbido, by its blind whistling 從海浪
por un rayo by a beam 之閃光
en las olas , on the waves 從夜
por sus anchas espumas en la noche by the wide foam of the night. 那豐盈之泡沫知道。
Asi, pues, tiempo, en vano Thus, then, time, in vain 故此，時間， 你徒然
me has medido, have you measured me, 量度我，
en vano transcurriste in vain have you 你徒然
adelantando gone before the path 跑在
caminos ak errante. of the wanderer. 流浪者之路前。
Junto a una sola puerta Together with one door only, 我獨自與一扇門
pasé toda la noche, I passed the whole night 渡過一整夜
solitario, cantando. all alone, singing. 歌唱着。
y ahora and now 而現在
que tu luz se adelagaza when your light dims 當光線銳减
como animal que corre like an animal getting lost 像奔跑的動物
perdiendose en la sombra in the shadows 黑暗中消失時
me dices you are telling me, 你才用我可聽之音
al oido, in an audible voice 告訴我
lo que no me ensenaste what you never taught me 哪你從未教過我
y supe siempre. and I knew all along. 但我早已知的東西。
In this simple poem, Neruda is telling us that he had known all along, in advance of what time has kept hidden from him, something which time would not tell him until he is almost at the end of his life. What is that? He writes this poem probably close to the end of his life. He says that previously, time is like a big open prairie where everything is possible. But now time has shrunk into a tiny tiny thread and its size is reduced from a big, open and spacious prairie to that of a teenie weenie drop of liquid. Like Einstein, he talks not only of time. He talks of time in terms of space.
The time Neruda is referring to in this poem is obviously not chronological time He is referring to his biological time, his personal time, his biographical time. He is complaining that all along, like a blind man whistling in the dark to give himself courage, he has been forced to fight his battle all alone without any one to teach him. He has to rely on his instinct. He compares himself to a running animal fast disappearing in complete darkness and soon to be completely engulfed in it. Previously, he had to gather what might be hidden in the wombs of time, from hints given by Nature during the night. It is as he says: " a beam by the wide foam of the night" (anchas espumas de la noche). He is probably referring to love making.
He says that he knew what time would teach him at the end of his life: the secret which time tried to hide from him but which he learned, all alone, all by himself, close to the door of the night. What he learned he appeared to know: from birth: that "door", that "bramble of the concave night". Here he uses a literary device that has been called transferred epithet: an adjective which normally is associated with one object is transferred to another object with which the first object has a certain relationship, for a special effect. We must remember that Neruda was writing in a Catholic country, where open or too explicit reference to love making may be regarded as bad form or in bad taste. But he extended it a bit. He said that he had learned the lesson from his birth. He thereby introduces a certain ambiguity. And like all poetic use of language, ambiguity is the standard piece of the furniture of poetic stage design. Ambiguity is a machine for the production of suggestions, of openness instead of rigidity, inflexibility, of innuendoes . It thereby provides room for the soaring of the human imagination. Indeed we may argue here that he cannot failed not to have known it. He said he had learned about it from his birth. Indeed, he came from there. It is the woman's womb. It is the door to that womb! However, I have deliberately excised that in my Chinese translation because of the different texture and grammar of Chinese language which does not allow the same degree of permissiveness!
The lesson that time kept away from him is that lesson that he should never lose time, that he should step up his paces, rest his heart and sing his song. It is the song of that he learned all night long, all alone, close to the door of the night! In vain time had tried to contain him, to cut him down to size and to hurry him along but it was useless. He already knew its secret long before age tells him in a clear and loud voice that which time failed to teach him!
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