イジチュールまたは嵆の狂宴　新訳・軽茶

Ⅰ
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MIDNIGHT

Certainly a presence of Midnight subsists. The hour did not disappear through a mirror, did not bury itself in curtains, evoking a furnishing by its vacant sonority. I remember that its gold was going to feign in its absence a null jewel of reverie, rich and useless survival, except that upon the marine and stellar complexity of a worked gold the infinite chance of conjunctions was to be read.

眞に真夜中の滴は生きていて
刻は鏡の前に隠れることなく
壁掛けの中に消え失せもせず
虚空の響きの提供を想起する
黄金は真夜中以外は儚い夢と
豪華だが無用な遺物の装いに
宝石意匠細工の無限な偶然と
山海の数多な結合を読み取る

A revealer of midnight, it had never yet indicated such a conjuncture, for here is the single hour it had created; and so from the Infinite constellations and the sea are separated, remaining reciprocal nothingness on the outside, to permit its essence, united to the hour, to form the absolute present of things.

真夜の告知は結びの技でなく
此処に創造する唯一刻である
無限の星座と海から別たれた
相互的無たる外在性に留まり
全一刻に事物の絶対的現在を
無限から分離するはこの時だ

And the presence of Midnight remains in the vision a room of time where the mysterious furnishing arrests a vague quiver of thought, a luminous break of the return of its waves and their first expansion, while (within a moving limit) the former place of the hour’s fall is immobilized in a narcotic calm of the pure self long dreamed-of; but whose time is resolved in draperies upon which is arrested the quivering now subsided, adding its splendor to those draperies in a forgetfulness, like hair languishing about the host’s face, lit with mystery, with eyes null like the mirror, stripped of any meaning other than presence.

真夜の現前は神秘な装飾物に
思索の波と拡大の裂け目から
茫漠たる震慄をも引き留める
幻のような時間の部屋に棲む
夢に見られた自我の静けさは
刻が崩壊する直前の位置 (ry
静まりゆく震凛はその絢爛な
壁掛けに溶け込んで動かない
久しかりし夢の時間、さえも
忘却に晒す神秘な顔の周りに
意味を喪失してただ現存する
其の主が鏡にも似た虚な眼に
力なく垂れ下がる髪のように

It is the pure dream of a Midnight disappeared into itself, whose Brightness recognized and alone remaining in the center of its accomplishment plunged into the shadow, sums up its sterility on the pallor of an open book presented by the table; ordinary page and setting of the Night except that the silence of an antique utterance it proffered still subsists, in which this returned Midnight evokes its shadow, finite and null, with these words: I was the hour which is to make me pure.

斯く己の裡に沈む純粋な夢が
影の中にしたり顔で独り棲む
紛うかたなきその明るささえ
机上の書物の蒼白さに要約し
再び訪れる真夜の沈黙を語る
依然として生き続ける言葉の
夜の、常の如き頁と装飾から
真夜は無価値な己が影を醒す
吾は純粋に帰すべき時である

Long since dead, a dead idea contemplates itself as idea by the brightness of the chimera in which its dream agonized, and recognizes itself in the immemorial vacant gesture with which it invites itself, in order to finish the antagonism of this polar dream, with both a chimerical clarity and the re-closed text, to go toward the miscarried Chaos of the dark and the utterance which absolved Midnight, and surrender to them.

久しきに旦って死せるイデは
其の夢を懊悩させる妄想なり
映し出される夢の極みに抗い
輝きも再び閉ざすテキストの
流産する影と真夜を解き放つ
言葉の渾沌へ赴く太古の科よ

Useless, from the accomplished furnishing which will pile up in the darkness like draperies, already made heavy in a permanent form while in a virtual glimmer, produced by its own apparition in the mirroring of obscurity, the pure fire of the clock diamond glitters, the sole survivor and jewel of eternal Night: the hour is formulated in this echo, at the threshold of the panels opened by its act of Night: “Farewell, night that I was, your own sepulchre, but which, the shadow survivjng, will metamorphose into Eternity"

不変とはゆえ朦朧たる眩耀が
理それ自身の生み出す微光は
既に闇に沈下する虚ひの中に
唯一の生存、永遠なる宝石の
刻はまた純潔な炎を煌めかせ
谺となりしその行為に依りて
眞理の、大きく空いた入口に
自らの己なる意思を証明する

嘗て私であった夜よ
生き残る影の化身よ
其の聖痕を　いま封じ込めん

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