The useless dawn finds me in a deserted street corner; I have outlived the night. 毫无意义的黎明在荒凉的街角找到我； 我已经活过了这一夜。
Nights are proud waves: dark blue top heavy waves laden with all hues of deep spoil, laden with things unlikely and desirable. 夜晚是骄傲的海浪：深蓝色的浪头充满了形形色色深层的毁灭，充满了难以想象的又令人向往的事物。
Nights have a habit of mysterious gifts and refusals, of things half given away, half withheld, of joys with a dark hemisphere. Nights act that way, I tell you. 夜晚习惯分发神秘礼物和予以拒绝，习惯给一半留一半，习惯与黑暗的半球同乐。我告诉你，夜晚就是这样。
The surge, that night, left me the customary shreds and odd ends: some hated friends to chat with, music for dreams, and the smoking of bitter ashes. The things my hungry heart has no use for. 在那天晚上，这股浪潮习惯性地让我混乱不堪：聊天的心怀仇恨的朋友，充满梦幻的音乐，还有苦涩的灰烬冒出的青烟。 都是些对我饥渴的心毫无用处的东西。
The big wave brought you. 大浪把你带来。
Words, any words, your laughter; and you so lazily and incessantly beautiful. We talked and you have forgotten the words. 言语，任何言语，你的笑声； 还有你慵懒而散发着美丽。 我们交谈过，可你忘记了我们说过的话。
The shattering dawn finds me in a deserted street of my city. 散落的黎明在我城市的一条荒凉的街道上找到了我。
Your profile turned away, the sounds that go to make your name, the lilt of your laughter: these are the illustrious toys you have left me. 你转过身去的样子，你令人入迷的声音，你轻快的笑声：都是你留给我的辉煌的玩具。
I turn them over in the dawn, I lose them; I tell them to the few stray dogs and to the few stray stars of the dawn. 在黎明，我反复思索着它们，我正失去它们； 我把它们说给晨曦里流浪的几条狗和几颗流浪的星星们听。
Your dark rich life… 你阴暗富足的生活…
I must get at you, somehow: I put away those illustrious toys you have left me, I want your hidden look, your real smile –that lonely, mocking smile your mirror knows. 我必须想办法见到你：我收起你留给我的那些辉煌的玩具，我想要你隐藏的表情，你真正的微笑——你的镜子知道的充满孤独与嘲弄的微笑。
I offer you lean streets, desperate sunsets, the moon of the jagged suburbs.
I offer you the bitterness of a man who has looked long and long at the lonely moon.
I offer you my ancestors, my dead men, the ghosts that living men have honoured in marble: my father's father killed in the frontier of Buenos Aires, two bullets through his lungs, bearded and dead, wrapped by his soldiers in the hide of a cow; my mother's grandfather -just twenty four- heading a charge of three hundred men in Perú, now ghosts on vanished horses.
I offer you whatever insight my books may hold. whatever manliness or humour my life.
I offer you the loyalty of a man who has never been loyal.
I offer you that kernel of myself that I have saved somehow -the central heart that deals not in words, traffics not with dreams and is untouched by time, by joy, by adversities.
I offer you the memory of a yellow rose seen at sunset, years before you were born.
I offer you explanations of yourself, theories about yourself, authentic and surprising news of yourself.
I can give you my loneliness, my darkness, the hunger of my heart; I am trying to bribe you with uncertainty, with danger, with defeat.
博尔赫斯《两首英文诗》试译
TWO ENGLISH POEMS by Jorge Luis Borges (1934)
《两首英文诗》
作者：豪尔赫·路易斯·博尔赫斯 (1934)
1.
The useless dawn finds me in a deserted street corner; I have outlived the night.
毫无意义的黎明在荒凉的街角找到我； 我已经活过了这一夜。
Nights are proud waves: dark blue top heavy waves laden with all hues of deep spoil, laden with things unlikely and desirable.
夜晚是骄傲的海浪：深蓝色的浪头充满了形形色色深层的毁灭，充满了难以想象的又令人向往的事物。
Nights have a habit of mysterious gifts and refusals, of things half given away, half withheld, of joys with a dark hemisphere. Nights act that way, I tell you.
夜晚习惯分发神秘礼物和予以拒绝，习惯给一半留一半，习惯与黑暗的半球同乐。我告诉你，夜晚就是这样。
The surge, that night, left me the customary shreds and odd ends: some hated friends to chat with, music for dreams, and the smoking of bitter ashes. The things my hungry heart has no use for.
在那天晚上，这股浪潮习惯性地让我混乱不堪：聊天的心怀仇恨的朋友，充满梦幻的音乐，还有苦涩的灰烬冒出的青烟。 都是些对我饥渴的心毫无用处的东西。
The big wave brought you.
大浪把你带来。
Words, any words, your laughter; and you so lazily and incessantly beautiful. We talked and you have forgotten the words.
言语，任何言语，你的笑声； 还有你慵懒而散发着美丽。 我们交谈过，可你忘记了我们说过的话。
The shattering dawn finds me in a deserted street of my city.
散落的黎明在我城市的一条荒凉的街道上找到了我。
Your profile turned away, the sounds that go to make your name, the lilt of your laughter: these are the illustrious toys you have left me.
你转过身去的样子，你令人入迷的声音，你轻快的笑声：都是你留给我的辉煌的玩具。
I turn them over in the dawn, I lose them; I tell them to the few stray dogs and to the few stray stars of the dawn.
在黎明，我反复思索着它们，我正失去它们； 我把它们说给晨曦里流浪的几条狗和几颗流浪的星星们听。
Your dark rich life…
你阴暗富足的生活…
I must get at you, somehow: I put away those illustrious toys you have left me, I want your hidden look, your real smile –that lonely, mocking smile your mirror knows.
我必须想办法见到你：我收起你留给我的那些辉煌的玩具，我想要你隐藏的表情，你真正的微笑——你的镜子知道的充满孤独与嘲弄的微笑。
2.
我用什么留住你？
我为你提供狭窄的街道，绝望的日落，锯齿状郊区的月亮。
我向你献上一个久久凝望孤月的人的苦涩。
我向你献上我的祖先，那些逝去的男人，活人用大理石纪念的幽灵们：我父亲的父亲在布宜诺斯艾利斯边境被杀，两颗子弹穿过他的肺，留着胡须，死了，被他的士兵裹在一块牛皮革里；我母亲的祖父 - 只有二十四岁 - 在秘鲁率领三百人冲锋，现在是消失的马背上的鬼魂。
我向你提供我的书可能包含的任何见解。 无论我的生活是否有什么男子气概或幽默。
我向你献上一个从未忠诚过的人的忠诚。
我向你献上我努力守护的内核 - 不懂花言巧语，未被梦想所累，也未被岁月、快乐和不幸触碰过的，我的内心。
我向你献上在你出生前几年在日落时分看到的一朵黄玫瑰的记忆。
我为你提供关于你自己的解释、关于你自己的理论、关于你自己的真实而令人惊讶的消息。
我可以给你我的寂寞、我的黑暗，我内心的饥渴；我正在尽力用易变、危险和失败来收买你。
2
What can I hold you with?
I offer you lean streets, desperate sunsets, the moon of the jagged suburbs.
I offer you the bitterness of a man who has looked long and long at the lonely moon.
I offer you my ancestors, my dead men, the ghosts that living men have honoured in marble: my father's father killed in the frontier of Buenos Aires, two bullets through his lungs, bearded and dead, wrapped by his soldiers in the hide of a cow; my mother's grandfather -just twenty four- heading a charge of three hundred men in Perú, now ghosts on vanished horses.
I offer you whatever insight my books may hold. whatever manliness or humour my life.
I offer you the loyalty of a man who has never been loyal.
I offer you that kernel of myself that I have saved somehow -the central heart that deals not in words, traffics not with dreams and is untouched by time, by joy, by adversities.
I offer you the memory of a yellow rose seen at sunset, years before you were born.
I offer you explanations of yourself, theories about yourself, authentic and surprising news of yourself.
I can give you my loneliness, my darkness, the hunger of my heart; I am trying to bribe you with uncertainty, with danger, with defeat.
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还自以为是。
你千万别学他。
我觉得你这句翻译的非常好！
“我向你献上我努力守护的内核 - 不懂花言巧语，未被梦想所累，也未被岁月、快乐和不幸触碰过的，我的内心。”
对于后半句大家都没有异议，但前半句有巨大的差异。我觉得你这样的翻译符合原意。
最后一句话的翻译，各位都差不多，我自己也是类似的翻译。但我后来意识到这种翻译可能不对，至少不准确。诗人的原意应该是告诉这个人他全部的心灵，包括那些最隐秘的从不示人的一部分。所以darkness翻译成隐秘似乎更贴切些。诗人是想留住这个人，而用我们翻译的不确定、黑暗和失败只会把人吓走，而不可能留下来。所以我觉得诗人的本意是用玄幻的东西，用展示最隐秘的内心，用击败某些人/事的大胜来吸引、诱惑、鼓励这个人留下来。
当然纯粹是个人观点。见笑了；）
使用的。让读者自己去理解
这才是自由民主应有的样子
她遍体鳞伤，对她好点：）
我也不爱吵架，谁不爱和平呢？我是乌克兰。你才是熊大。但凡你出言逊，谁会反击呢？以后别总说什么马甲偶像粉丝影子之类的，我绝不会跟你多一句话。
好斗的性格，有时说话失了分寸