挖　掘Digging谢默斯希尼Seamus Heaney谢默斯希尼（Seamus Heaney，1939-　），二十世纪中后期北爱尔兰的杰出诗人。

生于北爱尔兰的德里郡。

60年代，希尼成为贝尔法斯特诗人群中最令人瞩目的一位。

早期诗作反映了他早年在北爱尔兰的乡村生活，他以不多的词汇，沉默的气氛，白描的手法绘出一幅幅质朴的自然图景，其中有劳作的农民，有田里的硬土，有雪橇，有耙子，有泥铲……诗风朴实、直白、真实。

希尼后来的诗作内容广泛，反映了人们的政治活动和宗教斗争，并在诗中探索语言背后的文化、历史及政治的内涵。

在我的食指和拇指之间Between my finger and my thumb搁着一支矮墩墩的钢笔；安恬如一支手枪。

The squat pen rests; snug as a gun.

我的窗下，铁锹插进满含沙砾的泥土，Under my window, a clean rasping sound发出清晰的刮擦声：When the spade sinks into gravelly ground:我爸正在挖掘。

我向下看，My father, digging.

I look down看到他绷紧的腰臀在花畦间Till his straining rump among the flowerbeds弯下又伸直，花了二十年时间，Bends low, comes up twenty years away穿过土豆垄沟有节奏地俯身又俯身，Stooping in rhythm through potato drills他是在挖掘。

Where he was digging.

粗笨的靴子踏在柄上，长把儿The coarse boot nestled on the lug, the shaft靠紧膝部内侧，被他使劲地撬动着。

Against the inside knee was levered firmly.

他把表层厚土连根铲掉，把锃亮的锹刃He rooted out tall tops, buried the bright edge deep深深地插进去，拨撒新生的土豆，我们拣起来，To scatter new potatoes that we picked放在手里，喜爱那又凉又硬的玩意儿。

Loving their cool hardness in our hands.

天哪！

老爷子真能使铁锹，By God, the old man could handle a spade.

正像他的上一辈老爷子一样。

Just like his old man.

我爷爷一天挖的泥炭My grandfather cut more turf in a day在托纳泥炭沼里比任何汉子挖的都多。

Than any other man on Toner's bog.

有一回我给他送去一瓶牛奶，Once I carried him milk in a bottle瓶口乱塞着纸团。

他直起身子Corked sloppily with paper.

He straightened up把牛奶喝光，马上又干起来，To drink it, then fell to right away干净利落地把泥炭截短，切成小块，Nicking and slicing neatly, heaving sods把草泥抛在肩后，向下呀再向下，Over his shoulder, going down and down寻找优质泥炭。

挖掘。

For the good turf.

Digging.

土豆地里冷的气味，潮湿泥炭的The cold smell of potato mould, the squelch and slap嘎吱声和噼拍声，锹刃在活土豆根上Of soggy peat, the curt cuts of an edge短促的切割声在我头脑里觉醒。

Through living roots awaken in my head.

但我没有铁锹跟着他们那样的人干。

But I've no spade to follow men like them.

在我的食指和拇指之间Between my finger and my thumb搁着一支矮墩墩的钢笔。

The squat pen rests.

我要用它挖掘。

I'll dig with it.

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