outland poetry
anthology 诗选
Howard Nemerov
Because you asked the boundaries of prose and poetry Sparrows feeding in the cold drizzle When you look into snowflakes when Slope soaring in the invisible From the silver to the random tilt, white and slow. One moment you can not tell there. Then they clearly flew instead of fell. Nobody Translation -------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------ Monkfish In a long moonlit shore Reflected their lone figure, Two lovers suddenly embraced Their shadow into one. It has become common good night Because they are the wave of the blood boiling They accept it silently rushes, They proudly thought for a moment That they have registered bliss. Then, as if struck by stage fright In the gaunt, hard moonlight, Together, they stood on the shore Embarrassed watching each other Still hand in hand, Until they saw in the foot As if the world discovered them, Fish pulls out of a goose surface, despite the dead Exposing the head of a huge grin. He lay in a celadon color How old, rotten, and gray. They hesitated to face his smile, It seems strange to say Couples, on the beach from this violence, You think Will understand the instant The only way to understand Is to create a own world. Goose fish mouth wide open, smiling trance A mixture of calm and evil; They do not know what he expressed, What a perfect comedian He might mean failure or success, It as a symbol of the right Their accidents, the love of fresh and guilt When they kiss, is that rigid optimist Sneak peek. So he became their patriarch, Revealed in the half dark terrible tenderness. His throat seems to have been filled with sand, His picket teeth, leaving a mark But did not explain what a joke Made him so enjoyable, he was lying there When the moon dropped and disappeared And tilt along the track of silence Carry the ecliptic. Nobody Translation -------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------ Rain window This morning, or in the past People in the installation of rain the window until the heavy rain Back to house them. So at noon home I saw the rain the window lying on the ground, Window frames filled with rainwater; through water and glass I saw the crushed grass, it seems To flow away to the rows, like seaweed on the tide Tilt in the wind or the leaves of wheat. When I walk through the rain splashing on the glass in the fuzzy Ripples, it seems briefly recounts, Something that I should be willing to say things to you, Something ... ... the dry grass bent under the window Window above the water filled Tiaodang ... ... A Clear swing of things blindly reflecting This loss of memory and desire, loneliness afternoon, when the winter rain (Ineffable, far away in the mind!) In the vertical passing windows. Nobody Translation -------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------ Agree A night at the end of November Not even close to freezing, Sidewalk stand in the light of the ginkgo tree leaves falling It is endorsed by neither wind nor rain And as if time alone: gold and green Leaves scattered on the grass today, yesterday They also fan the air shimmering flutter. What is the signal from the stars? It takes the feeling of how? What is the motive of the tree's internal decision Against them leaves them Tuojin, Rebellion or surrender? If such a thing Can happen, what race is immune? Study time course taught what is the use, If the stars will tell us at any time: to time. Nobody Translation -------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------ Dependency This morning, the trees in the door Between the two branches, round spider again Woven tapestry and trap it, the Department of the names. I test it early warning system Very effective, it is wearing a black mink climb ahead It says no one knows the meaning of Hieroglyphics. I remember Yesterday evening, the whippoorwill how to return The same as this time of year, Formation of gray, with white stripes on the wings In the belly of cloud to search for worms. Now, the monarch will soon be drifting towards the south, And wild geese to leave, and then one day Small garden birds trace will disappear. Look, how many leaves have withered Change color, and some have been falling. Changes in the density seamless online continuing The moment comes, you feel A signal to your heart, urging you Pay attention to the outcome of an explicitly declared At the end of one thing, another thing started; Waiting like a spider web Do you know the intricate dependencies Launched in secret, through Heaven and Earth Great fabrics, chemical Password The message to all things, Incoming flow to whisper: it is time. Nobody Translation -------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------ To some wit (In May 1958 at Bennington College Barnett display. Newman's painting Simple entertaining themselves) When Moses command the rock in Horeb, Rock in the water out there, Some people get angry Moses That he must have used a magic wand. When Elijah Jia Mier mountain rain Prophet Bar, where the rain does not come seeking Some people say that the Prophet Bar ceremony Is a meaningful aesthetic, while Elijah is very simple. -------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------ To David, on his education The world is full of the most difficult to see things Not that way, only the eyes of thinking Or nose, into a book, to find them, For example, the square root of Everest Or how many times Byron went to Texas, Method can be used or whether the expulsion Rocky west. Because these And related reasons, you have to go to school Of books, listen to tell you all, Sometimes try to remember. Although I do not know You use the Republic of Plato Annual rainfall, or "worm diet," the Calories to do things that are said to Good for you, and you will have to learn them To become a member of the adult They see things not visible neither durable nor comprehensive, But seriously, this magnificent world of chaos To keep under his hat, and that its place, And teach children themselves have to do so. -------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------ Deformation These people can not identify with their diplomas, And passport to a landscape full of language, They carry the banner image, or to become Burdened with their own statues Porters base, or lifted up, use and resistance to focus on power, They are not balanced signature scroll work. I do not know how thumbprints into a seal, Cat persistent group, with the king of grace Staring at a chart Check out the cage on their way to tear, And fish commensurate with the face of the photographer Family members, or the back of the music stand Roaming to find music. These for their own, sir, Is a great benefit. However, compared with those I also thank the lines of class, That division of the world who hang around, They can do anything so casual: For example, the clothing line will carry an extension of the train, Or the letter of the lines, cracks in their Changed the distant horizon And between the close of the nose of the aircraft. Confuse the lines, challenges to the gravity and death Creating and destroying it in the world Confirmed that the law of surprising exception Where a hand painted it himself, A man with a pencil effortlessly Painting until his own existence; no one of the world The image of their own self-entertainment: A woman in her rocking chair, a syllable is omitted, Man trapped in his signature behind He had just removed himself. -------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------ Scan passers-by These days, a modest little black broom Cleaning trails falling leaves. He tilted his head, looking at leaves, Looked at his broom, as the windy beard Inertia and curly for cleaning. His head Proud of the high trees, hickory and poplar, More easily distribute their leaves, or Wind on the streets, hunting the hypocrisy Tear the walls of the summer, the leaves tossed Witness the cold naked truth. It seems there is no hope in these cruel days of accelerated Before the end of all those Saowan Against time for the leaves. However broom back and forth The patient has a tree, as if the rubber Automatically speak the language of a pencil. Offer all kinds of thoughts fell on the same piece of white paper, Despite the wind blowing them back, they go to He pointed to where they are, to archives, where the clutter Flame and a wisp of gray smoke into the sky. My way is satisfactory, no leaves. We met each other good morning smile Talking about the weather. There will be some rainy days, the leaves As the marker, stick on the sidewalk; He will also sweep away these. Gentlemen, we all come with a white face Silent prayer, do not hate me, in a He broom antenna to receive the full Wavelength, we understand their thinking so much Is a detailed, considered good mind It could not do anything, has been doing so. -------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------ 41 of the thirtieth anniversary of the report Those of us who survived the war, married a wife Mr. made the establishment of a decent life, Equipment was successful life gradually Does not depend on outstanding robbery and theft ─ ─ We have a middle-aged love routine Made up the bed and had to lie down Bed always there, no matter how we sleeping position And to our bad temper and bile into sputum ─ ─ We see grandparents and parents, into the grave Wife and I sounded wrinkles, gray hair, weight gain Children with their acne rebel And tell the spirit of analysts ─ ─ Acne disappear along with everything. What else can argue that? Nothing left to us to talk about ourselves. -------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------ Snow The cast is not slow, not because love They shape the air, but by blind self-storm Twist, each individual drive In the fall a snap. -------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------ The Way West As long as we look ahead, everything seemed to freedom, Indefinitely, under the law of change, Despite the changes that should be subject to rules The review of life, the book seems to change Do not let us change. The story talked about for some time before Is on the way waiting for us, our lives To make plump; and dream about the past Show us the world over the radial Little left to dream of the future. Only scholars in our midst Repeat the old story, they hide the road Harder to understand than the life of the old story But since we know what to do And make their parents did. When I was young I flew Scrivo Where nine virgin still grinding meal Hamlet Granite, salt and bitter earth grains, Know that it is not for twenty years. I have a chance now after they change, I know How long a life as a ghost to the end of the growth Like any person in each of the ablation His story, as usual, begins In a distant country, the former There lived a man and his three sons ... ...
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