outland poetry
anthology
诗选
Robert Lowell
Time weasel
(And as for Elizabeth Bixiao Pu)
Nautilus Island's hermit
The heiress over in rough house a winter;
Her sheep still graze the sea on high ground.
Her son is a bishop. Her farmer
Let the village is the first mayor;
If this year she has aged.
She is hungry
Victorian
The kind of hierarchical quiet leisure,
She bought
All dislike the other side of place
Let it go to left leaning.
This season has gone wrong -
We lost the summer millionaire,
He is like one on the head from a cargo escaped.
He was nine feet long yacht
Auctioned to a man of shrimp.
Autumn Blue Mountains covered with fox's red spots.
Now we have our house decorated like a fairy
Fall City, waiting for a good cosmetic shop opening,
Covered his orange float fishing nets,
Shoemaker's bench, awl is orange;
His work, can not earn money,
He is better to get married.
One night,
I climbed the hill the Ford car,
I love watching people's car. Lamp black,
Car side by side with the fuselage next to the fuselage,
Cemetery in the town over the layers of rows.
My head wrong.
The radio in the car screaming,
"Love, ah, reckless love ... ..."
I hear all the evil in each blood cell God weep,
As if my hand stuck in her throat ... ...
I also like the seat of hell;
No one here -
Only the weasel, in the moonlight
Looking for a food,
They marched in the streets stride;
White stripes on the hair, wild red eyes spit fire,
At Trinity
Those chalky color, with beams below the spire.
I stood in my home
The back door steps, inhaling the smell of strong -
A weasel licking with a group of small bins in the
Food bowl,
_Insert_ed into her brain sharp
A yogurt cup, blowing like her ostrich tail,
Afraid of nothing.
1957
(Yuan Kejia translation)
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The victims of the federal
"He gave up everything for the Republic of service."
Now the old South Boston Aquarium stands
A snow desert, he nailed a board broken windows.
Cod fish-shaped bronze that the weathercock off as half of the scales.
Storage tank dry.
My nose was like a snail crawling on the glass:
My hand was itching to
To pierce those tame, submissive fish nostrils
Came out of small bubbles.
My hands shrink back. I often
Dusky below to breed the fish and reptile kingdom sigh.
One morning in March
I am close to the square in Boston
A newly built, there are spikes, galvanized fence.
Behind the cage, like a yellow dragon roaring excavators
Tons of snow to mud and grass rise,
Digging an underground garage.
Storage yard sparkling, as
Boston Center for the piles of sand.
Orange, pumpkin-colored beams clean as a belt
Closely surrounded the gurgling sound of the state government buildings,
It is due to digging and shaking,
The opposite is Shengsangdengsi amazing relief for the war on
Colonel Shaw and the bulging cheeks black infantry regiment
Supported by a piece of wood to withstand the shock garage.
After two and a half into the Boston,
Half the team has been killed,
Erected the monument in time,
William James could almost hear the black statue of breathing.
They like a fishbone monument
Stuck in the city's throat.
It's like a compass Colonel
General thin needle.
He has an angry wren vigilance
A dog's mild tension;
He seems afraid of pleasure,
But was stifled by loneliness.
He is now unfettered by. He is one of the lovely,
Make a choice between life and death of special forces cheered -
When he led the black soldiers toward death.
His spine is not bent.
Thousands of New England small town on the green of the original
Old white church maintained lean and sincere
Rebellious air, wear the flag
Covered with the graves of the Republic army.
Abstract sculptures out of the federal soldiers
Weight loss year after year and the young -
Spine beam was thin, and they rely on Mauser bunk,
In their beard in contemplation.
Shaw's father, not monuments,
Apart from a small ditch,
Threw his son's body, where
With his "niggers" with the lost.
That trench closer.
Can not stay here, what the last war the statue:
Bo Hai in Charleston on the street, an advertising photo
Showing the Hiroshima boiling
Mole Si cards in a safe, and that "the eternal rock"
Preserved in the explosion. Space is closer.
When I bent down to watch TV
Withered black students face as the balloon-like rise in the ranks.
Colonel Shaw
Now riding on the bubble.
He waited
That being the crack.
Aquarium gone. Everywhere
Cars with large gills of fish generally swim past;
The yield of a brutal
Painted lubricants slipped in the past.
1964
(Yuan Kejia translation)
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Blessing the children of light
Fathers wild land seized from the bread,
With the Red Man's bones to make the yard fence,
They boarded ships from the Dutch lowlands,
Night in Geneva, Asaka nowhere to home.
They come here to grow the snake under the blessing of light seeds.
Rotating searchlight in the search, to shock
Built on rock fury of the glass room
In the empty side of the altar, candles flowing,
The blood of Cain in the burning of homeless,
Burning did not bury the seeds, where the only blessing of light.
(Zhao Yiheng translation)
Note: The "blessing the children of light" is the "Bible" often language. According to "Luke" sixteen: the children of light is different from the earthly welfare of children, their dependents by the grace of God.
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Wake up in the blue
Night shift nurses, a "big wave" second-year students,
Looked on the "meaning of meaning",
Dazed mind from his mare to wake up the nest,
Crept in through our hallway.
Sky-blue day
Make my pain even more desolate blue windows.
Crow on the noisy channel in the petrochemical,
Missing people! My heart is tense,
Mark rushing like a whale to be deadly.
(Here is the "mental patient" s home)
My sense of humor, what's the use?
I grinned Stanley, he is now stuck in a six-year-old,
He used to guard the nation's Harvard,
(If this is possible!)
He kept the two-year-old boy's body,
When he was immersed in the water, like a ramrod,
Covered with seal-like muscle
In his long tub,
Victorian water mains with some urine smell of urine smell.
A king-like granite profile,
Night and day wearing a bright red golf cap,
He wanted his body,
Only of ice cream and ginger juice by light beer to lose weight,
Seal is more silent than silence.
This is where the package McLean Di is the scene of the Museum of dawn;
Night light lights up the hat, "Bobby"
"Possum" company of the 29th's,
A replica of Louis XVI,
Do not wear a wig -
As delicious as the sperm whale, short and stout,
When he swagger around naked,
Also riding in the chair.
The bravado ossified young, triumphant image.
Within the time limit in the day,
In the letter, Xiaoping Tou Catholic nurses under
Package is not very absurd in their eyes the next bachelor
Many hours away in single file
(Catholic Church, there is no
Mayflower's Frankenstein)
Ate a hearty New England breakfast,
My weight this morning
Two hundred pounds. Swagger like cock
I wore high-necked French sailor-style sweaters
Swaggering walk of metal shaving mirror
See these varieties have higher mental patients
Gaunt face was on the shaky future of indigenous increasingly familiar
I doubled their older, less half my body weight,
When we are all members of the old record,
Each hand holds a lock on the razor.
Translated by Liu Gang
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Christmas Eve under Hooker statue
Blackout tonight. Twenty years ago
I put socks hanging in trees and hell
Serpent wrapped around the apple interdigital
Children with the knowledge sting. Hook the heel
In the nothing snow floating kicked,
A cannon and a pile of cone shells
Black down before the parliament building had rusted to know
How long horn rich as broken glass
Iron glove in the Hook. I have come from Massachu_set_ts;
Storm clouds now obscured by Christmas, and again
Mas no results with open arms to greet him the star,
Swords flashing his heavy frost,
This is the hole in his forehead Bronze God of War
Anonymous from novice molding machine;
Can not deter an ordinary cannon
This staggering time butcher as he rode ─ ─
Barrel due to holly and jingled. I'm cold:
I want bread, my father gave me a badge;
His stockings filled with stones. Santa Claus in red
Crowned with dried berries. War who
Summer garden where? In its bed
Old snake spots will appear,
Curly hair, black eyes there Susan.
When the volunteers cut down the decision-maker,
"All wars are boyish," Herman. Melville said;
Can we get old, our fields in the desert:
Again turned to Christ until the Rangers and children.
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Holy innocent
Listen to the grass in the jingle bell as if the carriage
Trembling in the rubber tires
Mills along the lower hanging burlap
Tar and ashes of the ice cover
Mercedes-Benz. The Bulls have coveted
Became curious about the car's fender,
And St. Peter stumble onto a huge mountain.
These are pure because their women ─ ─
Sad is not the sorrow of this world;
Wang Xi Luode choking in the air in front
Upward bending of the knees of Jesus screaming revenge
A silent king of the body and the baby. Still
Xi Luode outside world; the years,
Kind in 1945,
With heavy losses onto clean out our
Slag Hill; Bulls are close to
They wear it open at the base of the wall
Holy cow trough their bed
Shredded corn for Christmas and holly. If they die,
Like Jesus, _set_s the saddle, who mourn?
Lamb shepherd boy, how you lay quiet.
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New Year
Born in the years again and again ...
Death among the ice and it will never
Hidden behind the window in the wind in the hearth
Listen mail lady blew her trumpet, France
When the wet ice will melt.
There is no reason for love,
Or that we are determined to weed out the
Tomorrow. When we live, in order to
Smelling smoke offerings. In the snow
Raised kittens hind legs, as if already stink,
Die. We put it into a Christmas box
Sprinkle scare away crows burning weeds
Until the tail-like wind in a double lock on the outside the church
Cough, howling to beg alms
Waiting for St. Peter, that distorted key.
St. Peter's bells in the diocese of following the sea that
Fish with it the influx of sand drilling cabin hanging burlap
Joseph, like playing in there fiddling with his fishing line,
When listening to circumcise boys cry of terror,
He once again experience of Jesus in his arms
Death and cries. In front of the beast
How the burden of harsh discipline:
Time, God's millstone and the knife.
Children born in the blood, the blood Oh, that boy.
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Catherine Dream
─ ─ from "between the porch and the altar"
It must be Friday. I could hear
Roar sent upstairs typist
You bring the beer box hurt my head;
I threw the pillow bed
Hold knees breathing.
Pendulum hand_set_ a harsh voice
Like a man in a dream can not stop
Breath or speculate about, until he fell victim
Darkness and sheets. I must have fallen asleep,
Can still hear my father, who keep
Your gift is guilty cut my hair.
He whispered that he really did not care
Whether I'll never be your mistress,
Or destroy two of your children and your wife;
The infamous but I made him drink. Of course,
I will tell the court the truth about his divorce.
I walked through the snow into the St. Patrick's cemetery.
Black nuns wearing glasses, smiling guard
A snow shore bulkhead,
It burnt all the doors open, the same as the goods
People are paired off into teams confessor priest. Per person
Must have a friend go in together, but the crowd
No one is unfriendly, the nuns in the smile.
I was surprised to stand aside; a while
Pleasant in winter sun, it's love with others
Warmed my heart, but
Gradually reduced in repentance. I started
Tears beseech God to forgive my sins.
Where are you? You with me now you away.
All couples who hurried to the forgiveness
Night dinner and they, no one will stop.
I run around until the enclosure
Again in a locked down in the cemetery in front of the bulkhead
Faces red where the snow to harden.
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After the surprise change in the
September 22, President: Today
I replied. In late May,
Close to our Lord's ascension, the weather became
More sensitive. A gentleman
More than the general understanding of good character
Piety, against our goad.
A prestigious person,
A useful man in town, respected people,
His parents from depression; tend to
They kept alone for many years, the secret spell ─ ─
His aunt, I believe, is because it died:
Good, a little more or less intelligent.
One Sabbath I preached a theme from the kings;
He showed concern for his soul. Something
In his experience is full of hope. He
Will sit down and struck a tree to observe the wind
And praise our Lord created this country.
Time when a poor little cow died,
He placed a shilling on the windowsill; despite a burst of longing for love
Shaking him like a snake, he did not dare
The property of his hope, and heaven.
Time we saw him
After he sat down late in the attic window
Zhu Lei in a dripping candle next to the Bible; that night
Mediate between his fear, and it seems
Can not be proposed or asked, as he dreamed of
He was horn call at the trial
Call to harmony. In late May
He cut off his pipes. While forensic
He is the identification of mental disorder, and soon a burst of commotion offensive
Or paralysis in our village. Nap in the Lord
Satan seems to be more casual among us: the God
Abandoned us to Satan, and his harsh repression us
We believe that we have no peace until
Until we end the life. Satisfaction away.
All the good jobs are prohibited. We finished.
God's breeze carried out a planned conscious
Withdrawal from the land;
No doubt, had no contact
Was not numb, curious, or dedicated people,
Skip to the broad daylight, like a hawker groaned
Sharply with the familiar twang: "My friends,
Cut off your pipes. Cut off your pipes. Now! Now! "
September 22, sir, branch
And because Apple has not broken off, and at dawn
Mouth bass breaking the surface of the water, greedily devouring the eggs.
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