美国 霍华德·奈莫洛夫 Howard Nemerov  美国   (1920~1991)
anthology
Multiple poems at a time
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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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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