outland poetry
anthology
诗选
Constantine Peter Cavafy
Turning point
Time, I treasure the one hand
Sent over the time
You just get me in the evening,
As pigeons flutter of black wings.
White piece of the road before me,
Quiet sleep breathing
At the end of the Last Supper meal ... ...
Time, like a sand.
But only you keep
The silent tragedy clepsydra no sound
As if it caught a glimpse of Hydra,
In the sacred garden
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You said slowly
Slowly in the sun before you said;
Now dark,
And you used to be my fate latitude,
You, they will ask you to complete in Russia.
Five seconds; what happened,
In this vast world?
A write will not be rubbed out of love
And an empty tank.
Now dark is the place where ... ...,
And your waist until the bare,
And, God, my favorite thing
And the grace of your soul!
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Refused
In the secluded beach,
There white like a white dove,
We feel thirsty to noon,
To water is salty, not drink,
In the golden sand
We write down her name,
But a sea breeze was blowing,
Writing immediately disappear.
Why kind of spirit, what kind of courage,
What kind of desire and enthusiasm,
We live our lives: the original wrong!
So let's change our lives.
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"Myth and History" (choose four)
1
Three years, and we eagerly wait for the messenger,
Close to the Rye
Pine trees, the beach, the stars.
Ploughshares or riding a boat carrying people
We are looking forward to re-find the first seeds
So that the old theater to re-start.
We return to dilapidated homes,
Paralyzed limbs, lips damaged
Enough of the brackish taste of dried sea breeze.
We travel to the North Kivu wake up, like a group of strangers
Swan's white wings beat, crashed in fog.
In winter, snow, wind from the East angered us,
Hu into the summer days we long suffering.
Us back
These quite rude in the arts relief.
4
If Ling Gui
To recognize its own
It must be deeply Perspective
A soul's heart:
We have seen that in the mirror and enemy alien.
Companions are good, they never complained,
For work or hungry, or frost,
They have trees and waves of grace.
To accept the ups and downs,
Accept the night and day,
Changes in the steadfast.
They are good people, all day long
Head down, rowing, Rehan oozes,
Rhythmic breathing, '
And their blood had a tame Zhanghong skin.
Sometimes they sing, eyelids drooping,
As we passed the long drought, the island was Barbary fig trees
To the west of the Cape incessant barking drove over there.
If it is to know themselves, they said
It will look at a soul, they say,
The oars struck the sun_set_ light in the
That golden Hyperion.
We passed many of the headlands, and many islands.
The sea leads to another ocean, seagulls and seals.
Unfortunately, women sometimes cry
They mourn the loss of children,
While others search for Alexander the Great in anger
And buried in the seabed of Asia brilliant.
We parked at night off the coast of Hong overflowing,
Birds there, withered look, Hyperion to a sailor
Great happy memories left behind.
But the journey did not end.
Their souls into one with the paddle and paddle holder,
Serious face goes with the bow,
And the rudder of the footprint,
And then blending the shadow of their water into one.
Those companions died one by one,
Eyelids drooping. Their oars
Down their final resting place on the coast.
No one remembers them. This is justice.
5.
We do not know them;
It is hoped that the deep
That we know them very young.
We probably have seen them twice, then they became a sailor,
Carrying coal, carrying grain, our friends
Always disappeared in the ocean over there.
Dawn found us sitting exhausted lamp
Clumsily painted on paper hard
Ships, mermaids, or shells;
Us to the river at dusk,
Because it tells us how to going to sea;
And we live in is full of tar taste at the cellar.
Our friends left us,
Perhaps we have never seen, and perhaps
We met them in dreams, when sleep.
Still brings us close to the pearly sea
Maybe we find them, because we are looking for another student;
Over the side of the statue.
8.
In pursuit of what they are, our soul,
Travel in the old deck
With the yellow face hunger in lean women and crying babies huddled together,
All the interference in the gramophone record,
向那 walked the Holy Land does not exist,
In pursuit of what they are, our soul,
Turning the broken stones, day by day,
Swimming in the sea water,
Slightly nearer or farther
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Dense forest of plane trees ... ...
You're like a tree in the quiet light of the breathing
My fingers on the soft grass
Find your fingers,
But I hear you heartache elsewhere
To me, around me.
I can not touch your whole body,
Disappeared in the shadows, in the indulgence
Unfortunately, those who wait
Unfortunately, with those lonely
Talk to the pool and well water
Caught in the whirlpool in the voice of the people they are,
Unfortunately, those who partner with us in distress
In the sun, like the ruins of the remote side from the
Crow, there is no hope to share our joy.
In addition to sleep
Please give us peace.
Translated by Wu
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South wind
Connected to the sea west of the mountains,
The south wind blowing from the left, let us mad,
This gust to peel our skin.
Our house is in between the pine and acacia trees.
Large windows. Huge table
Can write, these months
We wrote to you a letter, filled
The gap between us.
The morning star, when you lower lid droop
Our time and season
Coating of oil over the wound
Also sweet, cold water cover than the mouth
Also shown a more than swan feathers
Even Enron. Empty hand you
Control of our lives
After the torture suffered in exile,
The night we stood in the white wall
Your voice is like a warm fire in the hope
Came, but the wind in the edge of our nerves
Mozhuo razor sharp.
We all read the same thing to you
Everyone is silent in front of others,
Everyone looked the same the world are
Watching on the mountains
Light and shadow, as well as you.
Who was filled with sorrow?
There was a storm yesterday and today
Days and gloomy. Our thoughts
Such as pine needles after the rain yesterday
We piled on the threshold, such as thought
Pine tower built
Twinkling of an eye will collapse.
The mountain stands in front of us,
Hidden inside you
But you immune to the southerly reef
These villages were ruined
Who would care about our forgotten vows
Who will accept our dedication in this late fall?
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(The following seven provided by the users as you like)
Decided to forget
Who will forget our calculations we have decided the price to be paid?
- Joe - Seve Rees: "sea west"
In that silent lake stop it, passers-by;
That wave rippling sea and the vessels of great hardship,
It had a star surrounded by mountains and the road
All the water in this vast terminated.
Now you can quietly observe those swans
Look at them: all so white, like a night of sleep,
Nothing to hinder a flat wave in a thin slide,
Ping Bo Lisuo to lift them above the water surface.
They like you, strangers, the rest of the wings, and you know them,
When that the lions eyes staring at you,
The leaves of trees that remain in the sky, life,
The tip pierces the cell wall.
But it is these and not other birds slaughtered country girl
Blood is on the stone road milk mixture,
Their horses in silence, Mu Cao
Threw molten lead as things like illegible.
So the night suddenly tightening around their necks curved,
They do not sing, because there is no avenue to death,
Had to beat, beat random people's bones,
The fear of whom their wings so calm.
We had that scenario also, as you see now so quiet,
The same quiet, because it has a soul did not leave us thinking
In addition to that on a stone can be a few mark,
The mark is now touched the background of our memory.
We are also with them, have been far away, very far, far away
- Stop it, passers-by,
In this quiet street, with the snow-white swan,
They adopted some of your heart, like white silk travel sheet,
Draw your attention to what you experienced but have forgotten the scene.
You also forget that when you read the text on our stone;
Even so, you and your still amazed with the sheep,
The sheep with their expansion of your body hair,
So you think you have the expense of the blood in the message.
Translated "log - Initial Code"
Ye Li, light translation
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阿西尼 Wang
Throughout the morning I wait around the castle,
Starting from the shaded side, where the deep water
But dull, like a dead peacock in the chest,
Also, as careful as seamless time received us.
Blood naked rock dropped from a height,
If Zhike dense vines to cling to,
By virtue of water moisture, Vitalizing Endlessly with Passion,
And keep track of them and gradually weakened in the eyes
In the struggle to get out of this tiring sway uncertain.
It has a long sunny side of a beach,
Bright sunshine in the tall walls of dazzling.
There is no biological, pigeons flew away,
The A Xini King, the past two years we have been looking for the king,
Is unknown, forgotten by everybody, even Homer
In the "Yi Liang Ji" is not only a positive one word,
He was put down here, like a sacrificial mask.
You touch it, can hear the sound? The sun shining on empty
Lying in a dry jar excavated soil:
It sounds like we hit the waves in the plasma sound plan.
Axi Ni Wang is a mask blank
He was with us everywhere, everywhere, in name only care:
The statue of his children,
And his vigorous, such as birds of desire,
He and all thought the gap between the wind,
His vessel moored in a harbor disappeared,
That is all under the false mask.
That we live in a gold embossed on the lid of
Large eyes and thick lips and two pieces of white hair behind
You see a black spot
Travel like a fish in the sea in the quiet dawn,
An empty everywhere with us.
There are bird flew away last winter birds
That with a broken wing
Accommodation as a life bird,
And that is out there
Canine to play the young woman in summer,
And the world that screams for low-level soul
And the plane tree leaves as a broad stream of the way the sun under red swing
Depression with ancient tombs and contemporary country.
The wandering poet, looked at those stones, and asked whether he himself is not really there
In these abandoned lines, points, edges, holes and curves,
Is not really exist
Experienced ups and downs in this place where the abandoned depression,
In our life has been so strange to those who have backed out of the people,
Those who remained in the waves and sea Ziying broad general idea of the people,
Their performance is not the existence of love and compassion of the facial movements;
Maybe not, nothing left, except weight,
In addition to the weight of survival for a nostalgia,
Where we still weak, is bent over
Like a sad willow branches piled together in despair forever,
The muddy water slowly to put the mud all the way uprooted rush away
A form of image, due to be sentenced to endless pain and become a marble:
Poet, a vain only.
Who carry the shield - the sun, has been struggling upward,
From the depths of a frightened bat cave
Side shields as a lever to light the impact of shooting:
"A Xini Wang Wang ... ... ... ... A Xini"
That may be the king A Xini -
We have always carefully on the Acropolis in this searching,
Sometimes a stone with your fingers touch his mark on the A Xini King ... ...
Translated "log - Initial Code"
Ye Li, light translation
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Last stop
I am concerned about the moonlight night had very little:
Those stars alphabet - you spell them
End of the day when the whole body as you allow the degree of fatigue,
They come out of the side and from the meaning and hope -
Then you can read more clearly.
As I sit here and recall,
Remain in my memory of the Moon have been very few:
Some of the island, sad Virgin Mary, the old moon night
Or the moon in the northern city
It is sometimes a heavy sense of paralysis
Sprinkle in the hustle and bustle of the streets, rivers and people's limbs.
But here's the last evening, our last in a port
We are home all night waiting for the moment,
It is like an old debt, money, lay a number of years
Safe in a miser,
Finally, the time to repay,
So you hear the coins falling on the table;
In 厄特鲁斯克 village, Salenuohai behind
Harbour in the back of our home,
The edge of a storm in the fall,
Moon out of the clouds,
House on the opposite slope into a ceramic product:
Moonlight, quiet, pleasant manner. (1)
This is a series of thinking, a way
To start your own anxiety about what to recognize,
When you can not exercise restraint,
Escaped to a secret
Partners from home and bring lost friend,
In the exile before you could stop and change.
I am the door from Arabia, Egypt, Palestine, Syria;
And then into a pasture grass,
Sugar cane and wheat fields into the cities.
Convincing as a blatant sin soul
Bird cage as each stick with jobs.
Under the bamboo shade listening to the drums pound,
But that was like a squirrel-like state burned them chop chop - you see it
So that they can take root in the soil and re-growth of trees,
At that time because it makes you Shaojue moderate;
Traumatic memories of pain, ah,
When he left the hospital the wound has not healed
He dragged his feet through the dark capital -
I am concerned about the moonlight night had very few.
(1) The Department of Latin line, adapted from Virgil's "Egyptian Aspen Ji Huang," Volume 55 lines
Translated "log - Second Code" (1944)
Ye Li, light translation
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Helen
Through Klose: ... ... surrounded by the sea in Cyprus, Apollo requires me to live there in order to give the city the name of Salamis
Words, to commemorate my island home ... ...
Helen: I've never been to Troy; it was an illusion.
Servant: What? You mean we only saw the unwarranted thing to fight for so long?
- Europe Euripides: "Helen"
"Since the Nightingale would not let you sleep in the Pratt Juarez."
Shy of the nightingale, the leaves of the low interest rate in
Your body to those of the late, knew that the soul has not come back
Given to clear the forest in sweet rhyme.
The voice of the blind, and you fumbled in the memory of the Black Lands,
Explore the steps and gestures - and I dare not say to kiss -
And become the slave of the extreme violent grief.
"Nightingale would not let you sleep in the Pratt Juarez."
Pratt Gonzalez: where's the Pratt Juarez? To the island,
Who knows?
My life heard a lot of names, heard people talking about from:
New country, new people or God
Extreme folly;
My destiny
Ajax was the last in a sword for the
And another swing between the fate of Salamis
Brought me here, to this sea.
Moon
Like Aphrodite rising from the sea,
Obscure the stars of Sagittarius, now in the forward
Find the heart of Scorpio, will all change.
Truth, where truth?
I am also took part in the war as an archer;
But my fate: a fate of those who missed the target.
Lyric nightingale,
In such a night, the waterfront in the Proteus
Spartan slave girl who began to hear your lament,
And they were - who believe it? - There Helen!
She, we Scamander Los cross so many years looking for her ah!
She was there, in the desert's edge; I met her; she said to me:
"That's not true, it is not true," she yelled,
"I've never been to Troy brave."
"I did not get the first bird blue boat."
High on beam with belts, hair flowing in the sun,
Appear everywhere in that figure and smile,
In the shoulder, thigh, and knees;
Life and life of her tender skin, her eyes
Long with thick eyelids,
She was there, in an embankment next to the Delta.
Troy then it?
In Troy, nothing: only a shadow,
Gods need it.
Paris, Paris together with that lying in the shadow, as if it is a real thing;
And a full ten years, we slaughtered our own to Helen.
Great tribulation coming to the Greek body.
So many dead bodies thrown into the
Mouth of the sea, the earth's mouth,
So much soul
Like feeding the stone as grain,
And rivers to flood the, blood into their mire,
All just to wave a piece of linen cloth, a little cloud,
Tremor of a butterfly, a swan's fine feathers,
An empty robe - all just to Helen.
Then my brother?
Nightingale Nightingale Nightingale ah!
What is a God? What is not a God? What is between them?
"Nightingale would not let you sleep in the Pratt Juarez."
Tears tears had the birds!
Kissed island of Cyprus in the sea
Faithfully I remember my country,
I parked here alone, with the legend,
If this is really a legend, then
If human beings will no longer accept
Juggling the old gods,
If
Another in the coming years through Klose
Or another Ajax, or Priam, or Huckabay,
Or a certain unknown or nameless, but saw
A full body Scamander Luosi Hong flow of people,
Not destined to hear
We brought audio news disseminators,
That there is so much suffering, so many lives
Have fallen into the abyss
Completely empty white robes to a child, entirely to Helen.
Translated "log - three books" (1955)
Ye Li, light translation
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Light
As the years went by,
More and more judges condemn you;
As the years went by, the voice of dialogue with you less
You to explore a different perspective to the sun:
You know those people who stay behind in the lie to you,
Physical freak, happy dance
Eventually attributed to naked.
Like, onto the empty road at night,
Suddenly, you see an animal's eyes flash,
Eyes disappear; so you test your own eyes:
You look at the sun, you get into a piece of dark.
Dorian kind of attached to the rocks where the mollusks
A touch of your fingers just like a mountain-like swaying,
It is like a marble in the sun, but the head is buried in darkness.
Those who give up the sports people who took up arms
Marathon runner in the fight against stubborn persons,
He saw the runway drifting in a pool of blood,
The world as uninhabited as the moon,
Victory gardens withered:
You see them in the sun, the sun behind.
Those who jumped into the water from the mast to the bow ramp children
Still spinning top, as some
Naked and dive into the dark light,
A coin in his mouth, still swimming,
Slit with a lily of the sun
Sails and wet wood, the sea's splendor;
They are still tilted at the moment sink
Like some white bottles
Falling boulders on the sea floor.
Light, light sweet swarthy,
Avenue of the sea waves of laughter,
Tear of laughter,
That the Old Boys of supplicant to see you
When he walked invisible field -
Light reflected in his blood,
Claes was the birthplace of Ecuador through the blood of the Knicks and Polly.
During the day, lovely day of dark,
It poisoned the woman prisoner repulsive odor
With droplets from the waves of a cool branches diverge.
Small Ti Geni sing ah sing ah ... ...
I do not talk to you in the past, and I was talking about love;
Decorated with thorns sun your hair right,
Black girls;
Scorpio, the heart has been solidified,
The tyrant is someone who escape,
All the daughter of the sea, Neil Reed, Gela Ai,
Hasten to meet the rising was brilliant in the Goddess:
People who've never been in love will love
In the light;
And you find yourself
Many of the windows open in a grand house,
Went from one room to another room, I do not know where to peek out from the first,
Because those pine trees disappear and those that reflect the mountains and the birds chirp will disappear,
The sea will Kuhe, like broken glass, from north to south,
Your eyes will lose the sun during the day -
Suddenly, the cicadas have stopped singing together.
Translated "thrush number" (1946)
Ye Li, light translation
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One of the old river bank
However, we must consider how we can move forward.
Is not enough to feel, think and exercise are not enough
Let your body to face the danger of shooting an old bullet hole is not enough,
When the molten lead and boiling oil droplets drip wall.
However, we must consider where we have to be heading forward,
This is not like our pain or we will have to be starving children in the direction;
This is not like the temporary hospital by the warriors of the pillow surgery,
With a flashing blue light caused by the whispers in the direction indicated;
But in another way, maybe I want to say - is confined to the African elephant from the depths to which the river of the Great Lakes
He was a god, and later became a road, a charity gift of the people, a judge and a delta;
It is always different, as scholars of the ancient teachings,
But always the same body, same formation, same miracle, same direction.
I just want to say, just want to get this gift.
Because we even let our songs are under a lot of music so that it is slowly sinking
Because we make our art has been modified so that too much to swallow Nie gold, then its true capacity
This is to say a few words of our own time, because tomorrow we will sail the soul.
If the pain of human destiny, we do not allow people just to endure
That is why I often these days in that big river
Pondered the meaning of the middle of the road in the grass
The middle of the road in animals, who eat the tender grass to quench their thirst, the road in the spraying and harvesting the seed grain among people
Even marched in imposing grave and buried the dead middle of the primitive.
The river tour was, almost the same with people's blood
Almost the same with people's eyes when they look ahead, they have no fear,
Life is not usually trivial, and even the concerns of important matters;
When they look ahead, as used by the stars to identify the direction of travelers,
Unlike us, have a few days ago had looked sleepy Arabs closed the garden house,
That sad little garden behind the change in the shape of the pane, and change into small,
And we looked at, and we change our desires and shape of the heart,
We are under the hot sun at noon, one belonging to banish us and shape our world in the tough dough
Limited to decorate the life of a net, that is real life once, then sank into dust in the sand
We are left only dizzy a tall palm trees swaying slightly.
CHONG Translation
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GYMNOPAEDIA
Islamic (Santorini's old address) address is a pumice stone and ceramic and clay composition. Near the bay in her island appear and disappear ... .... There is an ancient religious center, people often show a strict and strong rhythm, lyrical dance, this type of dance called "GYMNOPAEDIA".
- Greece Guide
1. Santorini
Bent over and leaned over if you can bend to forget the black sea
A siren bent legs bent to the naked
Write it down, if you can write on your last shell
That the name of that place that day
When you looked at yourself and find yourself
Do you seek your own death,
Listening to a cry
Even the wolf's cry,
You deserve,
Let your hands voyage, if you can
Give me your hand, put your hand to me, put your hand to me.
I've seen the dark
Invisible light of the moon
My life as a cat's internal organs stretch bending
Initial and end
The last minute; my hands.
He was carrying a huge stone sunk with the people;
These stones carried by I tried my best
These stones I tried my best love
These stones, my destiny.
For my own land due to injury
Underwear for my own tortured
For my own God, these stones
The punishment.
I know they do not know, but I
How many times has been walking on that trail
From the murderers to be murdered
People who go there from the punishment of murder
Punishment to another and from that murder,
Explored by
Endless purple
That night to return home
Nemesis started whistling when
In the sparse grass -
There I saw a snake crossed with snakes
TV drama evil generation wound
Our destiny.
The sound coming out of rocks in the piercing sound of dreams
In the world becomes increasingly deep dark here,
Rooted in the memory on the hard work of a rhythm
That rhythm of the forgotten foot
Foot hit the ground.
Ground subsidence in another era in the
Body, naked. Eyes
Who stare, staring at the point
No matter how hard you can not identify the point
That struggle
Become the soul of your soul.
Even the silent no longer be yours
Here's where it stopped grinding stones.
CHONG Translation
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Argo heroes
Heart
If it is to know themselves,
Will be able to visit another soul.
Strangers and adversaries, we see
Him in the mirror.
They are the good kind of partner.
They did not because of fatigue, hunger, cold and complaining.
They are like trees and waves as
Withstand wind and rain, night and the sun,
They are in the middle of changing it does not change.
They are good like, all day
Eyes down, sweat paddled oar,
Rhythmic breathing,
Simplicity of their blood to make the skin red.
Once they are singing, eyes looking down,
As we passed long the Arab figs
Desolate island, towards the _set_ting sun,
A group of dog barks across the promontory called.
They often say that if he knew himself,
He would be sure to visit the mind to visit,
Oars struck the sea of gold,
The time when the sun is sunk.
We passed many of the headland, group group seagulls and seals.
There are times when, unfortunately, women
To mourn their dead children and crying,
Others frantically search for Alexander the Great,
The honor has been sunk in the depths of Asia.
We parked the coast is full of night Fang Xin,
The birds singing in
Wake-up drops of water left in the hands of happy memories.
However, this by no means the end of our journey.
With the rudder of the tracks and make them broken shadow
Sea, their hearts into one.
Partners one by one left, eyes looking down.
No one remembers them. This is justice.
Turning point
Like a black dove
Went straight to the west of the thrust on me.
Road in front of me is pale,
The fog of sleep
Misty sun_set_ dinner in mystery ... ...
Hydra sky garden.
(Liu Ruihong translation)
Calligraphy
Sail on the Nile,
The single wing of a bird no tits,
In the absence of the sky in search of
Heard the cry of despair.
(Liu Ruihong translation)
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