写作是一种介入的艺术。介入之外无真正的艺术。写作不是供作家行走的波斯地毯，如让·柯克托所说；不是花毯覆盖的座位，不是让我们埋头其中的羽毛枕，不是私人游艇让我们在上面晒日光浴......喝德国冰啤。
作家的深处必须始终是个贝都因游牧人，对待太阳、盐和渴。
他须赤脚来感受大地的热度、大地的膨胀及石头的苦痛。
他须赤裸如一匹野马，拒绝一切体制妄图加于其背上的缰绳。一旦作家丧失其贝都因的特质、野性及嘶鸣的能力；一旦他为铁鞍而张口，将脊背让予骑手，他即变成“一辆政府公交”，被迫停靠在所有车站，听从售票员的呼哨!
“诗歌公交”在古代阿拉伯诗歌史上众所周知，哈里发的“车库”挤满成千上万的伪诗，随着时间流逝，这些诗都变成了铁皮架和破烂金属堆。
然而让我惊奇的是，这现象依旧存在于现代阿拉伯诗歌中，我们发现我们的诗人也已变成“公交”，左拐右转驶向阿拉伯世界之都，载着戏服、妆饰，还有据“时势需要”而改变标题的诗歌!
冰与火诗人不可兼选；不能既在森林又在城市；不能既生又死!
写作是一场与死亡的日常游戏。海明威如此理解文学，卡夫卡、洛尔迦、加缪、马雅可夫斯基如此，在生与死之间的地峡上生存并写作的人也如此。
而于我们，写作是“一项政府职能”，舒服、顺从、听天由命、公职的纪律。
四分之三的阿拉伯诗人是“国家公仆”，写作时口袋里攒着保险单，以防贫穷、老病、遭任意驱逐。
因此他们无法宣布罢工，走在游行的人群中，散发不被雇主批准的诗歌和秘密小册子。
就这样阿拉伯作家被撕裂，纠结在与政府结婚的“国家职位”和企图骗过妻子——政府的“艺术家地位”之间，无法助益孩子的未来，给家族带来荣誉。
直到我们发现阿拉伯作家大无畏地撕碎与当局的结婚证，甚至犯下通奸，文学书将一直远离查禁和没收，就像家庭读物。
英译：
Poetry Buses
by Nizar
Qabbani
Writing is the art of involvement. There is no real
writing outside involvement. Writing is not a Persian rug on which the writer
walks, as Jean Cocteau says; nor is it a seat covered in Aubusson, or a pillow
of bird feathers into which our heads dive, or a private yacht on the deck of
which we bask in the sunshine…and drink icy Dutch beer.
The writer has to remain in his depths a Bedouin
dealing with the sun, with salt, and with thirst.
He must stay barefoot in order to feel the heat of the
earth, its swellings and the pain of its stones.
He must stay naked like a wild horse, refusing all the
saddles the regimes are trying to place on its back.And once the writer loses
his Bedouinness, his wildness, and his ability to neigh; once he opens his
mouth for the iron bridle and grants his back to riders, he is transformed into
“a government bus” forced to stop at all bus stops, and submit to the
conductor’s whistle!
“Poetry’s buses” are well known in the
history of ancient Arabic poetry, and the “garages” of caliphs are crowded with
thousands of hypocritical poems which have, with the passage of time, become
skeletons of tin plate and piles of scrap metal.
However, what surprises us is that this phenomenon
persists in modern Arabic poetry, where we notice that some of our poets as
well have been turning into “buses,” turning left and right to the capitals of
the Arab world, carrying in their trunks acting costumes, make-up, and poems
whose titles change according to “the requirement of the situation”!
The poet cannot choose ice and fire together; he
cannot be in the forest and the city simultaneously; and he cannot be in
survival and death at the same time!
Writing is a daily game with death. Thus Hemingway
understood literature, and thus Kafka, Lorca, Camus, and Mayakovski, and others
who have lived their lives and writings in the isthmus between life and
death.As for us, writing is “a government function” having all the comfort,
obedience, fatalism, and discipline of an office position…
Three fourths of Arab writers are “civil servants” who
write while holding in their pockets an insurance policy against poverty,
illness, old age, and arbitrary expulsion…
For this reason they are unable to declare any strike,
or walk in any demonstration, or distribute any poem or secret pamphlet not
approved by the employer!
Thus the Arab writer is torn between his “civil
position” as a man married to the government and his “artistic position” as a
man yearning to cheat on his wife “the government,” but cannot carry out for
the sake of the children’s future and the family honor!
Until we find the great courageous Arab writer who can
tear out his certificate of marriage with the authority, and commit adultery
even once, literature books will remain for us far from interdiction and
confiscation, exactly like housekeeping books!
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