I
guess you are kind of curious as to who I am, but I am one of those who do not
have a regular name. My name depends on you. Just call me whatever is in your
mind.
If
you are thinking about something that happened a long time ago: Somebody asked
you a question and you did not know the answer.
That
is my name.
Perhaps
it was raining very hard.
That
is my name.
Or
somebody wanted you to do something. You did it. Then they told you what you
did was wrong- “Sorry for the mistake,”- and you had to do something else.
That
is my name.
Perhaps
it was a game that you played when you were a child or something that came idly
into your mind when you were old and sitting in a chair near the window.
That
is my name.
Or
you walked someplace. There were flowers all around.
That
is my name.
Perhaps
you stared into a river. There was somebody near you who loved you. They were
about to touch you. You could feel this before it happened. Then it happened.
That
is my name.
Or
you heard someone calling from a great distance. Their voice was almost an
echo.
That
is my name.
Perhaps
you were lying in bed, almost ready to go to sleep and you laughed at
something, a joke unto yourself, a good way to end the day.
That
is my name.
Or
you were eating something good and for a second forgot what you were eating,
but still went on, knowing it was good.
That
is my name.
Perhaps
it was around midnight and the fire tolled like a bell inside the stove.
That
is my name.
Or
you felt bad when she said that thing to you. She could have told it to someone
else: Somebody who was more familiar with her problems.
That
is my name.
Perhaps
the trout swam in the pool but the river was only eight inches wide and the
moon shone on iDeath and the watermelon fields glowed out of proportion, dark
and the moon seemed to rise from every plant.
That
is my name.
.
Richard Brautigan, From the book “In watermelon sugar” 1968
.
به گمانم از خودت میپرسی من کیستم، ولی من یکی
از آنهایی‌ام که نام عادی ندارند. نام من به تو وابسته است. هر جور به ذهنت میآید
صدایم کن.
اگر درباره‌ی چیزی که خیلی وقت پیش اتفاق افتاده
فکر می‌کنی: کسی از تو سوالی پرسید و تو جوابش را نمی‌دانستی.
نام ِ من همان است.
احتمالا باران ِ خیلی تندی می‌بارید.
نام ِ من همان است.
یا کسی از تو کاری خواست. تو انجامش دادی. بعد به
تو گفتند کاری که کردی اشتباه بود - "در مورد اشتباه متاسفم" - و باید
کار دیگری میکردی.
نام ِ من همان است.
احتمالا بازی‌یی بود که وقتی بچه بودی میکردی یا
چیزی بیدلیل به ذهنت آمد، وقتی پیر بودی و روی یک صندلی نزدیک پنجره نشسته‌بودی.
نام ِ من همان است.
یا در جایی قدم میزدی. دور و برت پر از گل بود.
نام ِ من همان است.
احتمالا به یک رودخانه خیره شدی. نزدیکت کسی بود
که دوستت داشت. نزدیک بود که لمست کنند. می‌توانستی قبل از وقوع حسش کنی. بعد واقع
شد.
نام ِ من همان است...
...
از کتاب " در قند هندوانه "، ریچارد
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