译自UESP:The Alik'r，优先遵循ANK汉化
阿里喀尔
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2022-11-27更新
最新编辑:Shaq-铁砲仙人
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更新日期：2022-11-27
最新编辑：Shaq-铁砲仙人
官方繁中译本（转简体）
要不是我在哨兵城一间小酒馆遇到威尔坦，我大概永远不会到阿里喀尔沙漠。威尔坦是一位红卫人诗人，我以前读过他的作品，不过是译文。他选择用红卫人的古老语言写作，不用泰姆瑞尔语。我曾经问过他为什么。
威尔坦露出大大的笑容，像潮水一般漫过他的黝黑脸庞。他说：“牛奶酸掉、腐败凝结后压成块状，能够成就余韵无穷的美味食物。这种食物泰姆瑞尔语叫做奶酪，红卫人的古老语言叫做穆罗。你告诉我，如果你是精通这两种语言的诗人，会选择用哪一个词？”
我是城市的孩子，我会告诉他城市的喧闹与糜烂，狂野的夜晚，城市的活力、文化与腐败。我说到我出生的城市，他总是听得入神：满是白色大理石的帝都，市民们的自傲无可动摇，因为他们离皇帝如此接近，他们的街道如此光亮。有句话说，即使是帝都街道上的乞丐，也算是居住在皇宫之中。我与威尔坦喝着香料酒，我跟他描述河之城万头攒动的市场；哀伤之城的黑暗与悲凄；里尔莫斯长满霉菌的庄园；赫尔斯壮充满乐趣与危险的小巷；壮观的独孤城肃穆的大道。他听到这一切，总是啧啧称奇、不断与我分享问题与意见。
我告诉他：“虽然我没有到过你的家乡阿里喀尔沙漠，但是阅读你的诗篇，彷彿也已经很熟悉了。”
“啊，不是这样的。再怎么好的诗，也没有办法让人真正认识阿里喀尔沙漠。要做足去那里的准备，读诗要比读旅游书好多了。但是你想要真正了解泰姆瑞尔、真正成为这个星球的公民，一定要亲自去体会沙漠。
我花了超过一年的时间，处理各种杂事、存够钱（这是最大的难处），让我离开城市生活，前往阿里喀尔沙漠。我带了好几本威尔坦的诗集，当作我的向导。
“火堆升起神圣之焰，是无名伟人的鬼魂。消逝已久的城市，在火焰中重新兴衰。迪欧斯科的启示之歌，爆裂的墙垣与永恒的岩石，赋予生命也赋予死亡的火热之沙。”
这是我朋友的作品《沙尘之永恒》前六行，让我见到阿里喀尔沙漠的第一眼前，心中已经有大略的印象，但这几句诗怎么可能传达沙漠的全貌。我这枝笔，怎么写都写不出阿里喀尔的严苛与壮丽、剎那与永恒。
国家在这片土地上所画出的区域与边界，在滚滚的沙漠之下只有淹没一途。我从来不知道自己是在安提非罗斯还是伯加玛，沙漠的居民也没有几个人说得出来。我也逐渐习惯了他们的观点：我们在阿里喀尔。不对，该说我们是阿里喀尔的一部分，这才比较接近沙漠居民的想法。
我在沙漠的第一个早晨，就看见了威尔坦笔下的神圣之焰：一片广大的红色烟雾，彷彿是从泰姆瑞尔深处的秘密涌升出来的。日正当中前，烟雾早就消散，这时我看见了威尔坦笔下的城市。风吹过一望无际的大地时，也会吹散覆盖阿里喀尔遗迹的沙尘。沙漠中没有永远的生，但也没有永远的死。
在白天，我躲在帐篷中，思考红卫人是什么样的核心性格，让他们居住在这片野蛮的永恒大地。他们是天生的战士，没有任何一群人打得过他们。对他们来说，没有经过奋斗争取的事物就没有价值。虽然没有人跟他们争这片沙漠，但阿里喀尔本身就是伟大的敌人。这场战争还在进行，是一场没有仇恨的战争，是名符其实的圣战。
到了夜晚，我可以凝视相对静谧的大地，但是静谧只是表象。地上的石头仍然发出光与热，不是来自太阳、也不是来自两个月亮裘妮或裘德。石头所发出的力量，来自泰姆瑞尔跳动的心脏。
我在阿里喀尔沙漠待了两年。
写作本文时，我已经回到了哨兵城。我们与匕首雨王国陷入战争，争取一块长满草的石头，其真正的归属该是伊利亚克湾。其他诗人、作家与艺术家都怨叹着让人们陷入征战的贪婪与自大，认为这是一次衰落、一场悲剧。用红卫人的古老语言说，就是“艾希亚”，向下沉沦。
但是我悲伤不起来。我居住在壮丽的阿里喀尔那两年，看见了人死后仍然永远存续的石头。我在这片无垠无形、不变又万变的大地上，找到了内心之眼。人总有一死，但是精神与希望跟沙漠中的岩石一样，永远存续。
汤镬汉化译本
假使我没有在哨兵城的一个小酒馆里遇见维尔坦，我怕是永远都不会去阿利克尔沙漠。维尔坦是一位红卫诗人，我读过他的诗文，虽然只是译本罢了。他选择用红卫古语写作，而非泰姆瑞尔通用语。我曾向他讨教原因。
“泰姆瑞尔通用语把发酵的、柔滑的、挤压而出的酸牛奶的精华叫做奶酪——”维尔坦边说，他那炭黑的面庞如潮水般涌起一个大大的微笑： “红卫古语的叫法则是‘mluo’。请告诉我，倘若足下以两门语言均能流畅行文作诗，会择何词而用？”
我打小在城里长大，我会告诉他市井的喧嚣和奢靡的风气、狂野的夜生活和盎然的生机、斑斓的文化和不期的颓唐的故事。他满怀敬畏地聆听养育我的城市的风土人情：白色大理石雕梁画栋的帝都，坊间巷陌的市民都自视甚高，只因身处皇帝脚下那光彩熠熠的阡陌。人们甚至说帝都大街上的乞儿，都像是以宫廷为家一般。边喝着香料麦酒，我边向维尔坦讲述了河堡人潮永动的市场；汶汶不明、忧郁弥漫的哀伤之城；墙垣楼宇为绿霉包裹的里尔莫斯；街道小径美妙绝伦而又危险四伏的赫斯特伦；康庄大道宏伟井然的独孤古城。对于这一切，他噫吁兴叹、频频发问并啧啧称奇。
我同他说：“虽然我未尝往阿利克尔沙漠一至，但我从足下的大作中便知晓了足下的家园，如同身临。”
“啊，可足下有所不知。阿利克尔的景致难以诗文辞藻而表。或许文学作品相比上佳指南都更引人入胜。但必须亲自前往，设身处地体悟这片沙漠，方才堪称泰姆瑞尔真正子民。”
我花上一年有余的时间才解除婚约，积攒川资（我最为艰巨的难题），并离开市井生活前往阿利克尔沙漠。我带上几本韦尔坦的诗集充作旅行指南。
“圣焰跃起烈火中，隐没英魂称豪雄，古城浮沉炽烈里，启示歌颂神子重，石壁不息岩不灭，炎炎砂石司死生。”
尽管诗文难堪公允，但友人作品《恒尘吟》中的前六联为我首度目睹阿利克沙漠做好铺垫。我乏善可陈的辞藻无法描摹阿利克尔的庄严肃穆、蔚为大观、昙花一现和长生久视。
列国在这片土地上所设立的一切封邑和疆界，都在大漠中的滚滚流沙之下烟消云散了。我永远搞不清我是在安提腓洛斯还是贝加玛，而且鲜有居民能向我讲明。对其而言如是，对我亦如是，只晓得我们身处阿利克尔。不，我们便是阿利克尔的一部分。如此更接近沙漠民的哲学。
我在沙漠中的首个早晨目睹了维尔坦笔下的圣焰——一片庞大而鲜红薄雾似乎自泰姆瑞尔的深奥秘境中漫起。中午太阳出现之时，薄雾方才止息。然后我便得见维尔坦所言的城市—— 阿利克尔的断壁残垣在一阵罡风的冲力下从沙土中浮现，嗣后便遭下一场沙尘暴所覆盖。沙漠之中，既无永生，亦无永死。
在白天，我避于行帐中，思忖着何为令红卫人接纳适应此片长久蛮荒之地的性格内核。他们天生便是战士，成群成伍便无可匹敌。万事万物唯有奋斗拼搏得来，方才有价值可言。没有人愿为一片沙漠与其兵戈相向，但阿利克人仍是一大劲敌。战斗还在继续。这无关怨恨仇雠，而是一场不言自明的圣战。
在夜间，我便可在相对的静谧中审度思索这片土地。但这静谧不过是表面周章。砂石自己便燃起光和热，那光热不来自太阳，也非来自琼恩、琼德双月。砂石的力量来自泰姆瑞尔本身核心的律动。
我在阿利克尔度过了两年光阴。
动笔撰文时，我业已返回哨兵城。我们正在与匕落王国交战，争夺一处髂骨湾水域内青草丛生的岛礁。我全部的诗界文坛同侪都为此一因贪得无厌、骄横自大而起的兵灾而沮丧万分。此实乃一大深壑低谷，一大人间悲剧。用红卫古语来讲，便是“ajcea”，一场螺旋下降。
然而，我不能悲伤沉沦。在我于阿利克尔的恩泽中所度过的年华里，我目睹了凡人身死形灭时永世长存的永恒砂石。我在茫茫无尽、无形无像、变化无端的土地上天眼大开。灵感鼓舞与希望寄托，便如同沙漠中的砂石一般，是人生所不能相及的永续永存。
原文
I might never have gone to the Alik'r Desert had I not met Weltan in a little tavern in Sentinel. Weltan is a Redguard poet whose verse I had read, but only in translation. He chooses to write in the old language of the Redguards, not in Tamrielic. I once asked him why.
"The Tamrielic word for the divinely rich child of rot, silky, pressed sour milk is … cheese," said Weltan, a huge smile spreading like a tide over his lampblack face. "The Old Redguard word for it is mluo. Tell me, if you were a poet fluent in both languages, which word would you use?"
I am a child of the cities, and I would tell him tales of the noise and corruption, wild nights and energy, culture and decadence. He listened with awed appreciation of the city of my birth: white-marbled Imperial City where all the citizenry are convinced of their importance because of the proximity of the Emperor and the lustration of the streets. They say that a beggar on the boulevards of the Imperial City is a man living in a palace. Over spiced ale, I regaled Weltan with descriptions of the swarming marketplace of Riverhold; of dark, brooding Mournhold; of the mold-encrusted villas of Lilmoth; the wonderful, dangerous alleys of Helstrom; the stately avenues of grand old Solitude. For all this, he marvelled, inquired, and commented.
"I feel as if I know your home, the Alik'r Desert, from your poems even though I've never been there." I told him.
"Oh, but you don't. No poem can express the Alik'r. It may prepare you for a visit far better than the best guide book can. But if you want to know Tamriel and be a true citizen of the planet, you must go and feel the desert yourself."
It took me a little over a year to break off engagements, save money (my greatest challenge), and leave the urban life for the Alik'r Desert. I brought several books of Weltan's poems as my travel guide.
"A sacred flame rises above the fire, The ghosts of great men and women without names, Cities long dead rise and fall in the flame, The Dioscori Song of Revelation, Bursting walls and deathless rock, Fiery sand that heals and destroys."
These first six lines from my friend's "On the Immortality of Dust" prepared me for my first image of the Alik'r Desert, though they hardly do it justice. My poor pen cannot duplicate the severity, grandeur, ephemera and permanence of the Alik'r.
All the principalities and boundaries the nations have placed on the land dissolve under the moving sand in the desert. I could never tell if I was in Antiphyllos or Bergama, and few of the inhabitants could tell me. For them, and so it came to me, we were simply in the Alik'r. No. We are part of the Alik'r. That is closer to the philosophy of the desert people.
I saw the sacred flame of which Weltan wrote on my first morning in the desert: a vast, red mist that seemed to come from the deep mystery of Tamriel. Long before the noon sun, the mist had disappeared. Then I saw the cities of Weltan. The ruins of the Alik'r rise from the sand by one blast of the unbounded wind and are covered by the next. Nothing in the desert lasts, but nothing dies forever.
At daylight, I hid myself in tents, and thought about the central character of the Redguards that would cause them to adopt this savage, eternal land. They are warriors by nature. As a group, there are none better. Nothing for them has worth unless they have struggled for it. No one fought them for the desert, but the Alik'r is a great foe. The battle goes on. It is a war without rancor, a holy war in the sense the phrase should always imply.
By night, I could contemplate the land itself in its relative serenity. But the serenity was superficial. The stones themselves burned with a heat and a light that comes not from the sun, nor the moons Jone and Jode. The power of the stones comes from the beat of the heart of Tamriel itself.
Two years I spent in the Alik'r.
As write this, I am back in Sentinel. We are at war with the kingdom of Daggerfall for the possession of a grass-covered rock that belongs to the water of the Iliac Bay. All my fellow poets, writers, and artists are despondent for the greed and pride that brought these people into battle. It is a low point, a tragedy. In the words of Old Redguard, an ajcea, a spiral down.
Yet, I cannot be sorrowful. In the years I spent in the glories of the Alik'r, I have seen the eternal stones that live on while men go dead. I have found my inner eye in the tractless, formless, changeless and changeable land. Inspiration and hope, like the stones of the desert, are eternal though men be not.
附：汤镬汉化对On the Immortality of Dust/《恒尘吟》一诗全篇译文
圣焰跃起烈火中， 隐没英魂称豪雄， 古城浮沉炽烈里， 启示歌颂神子重， 石壁不息岩不灭， 炎炎砂石司死生。
哨兵名邑升海头， 穹映朝晖髂湾空。 黎民众多聚坊市， 摩肩接踵垣陌生。 纵使村落寡人烟， 亦有步履见漠中。
红卫苗裔行四方， 黄沙相随常伴身。 吾心吾魂缚漠中， 炀炀长燃耳目间。 我若尘埃长久视， 风吹沙动看沧桑。
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