outland poetry
anthology
诗选
Eugénio de Andrade
White on White
Yao wind Translation
A
Make a key, even if very small
Can also enter the house.
In the sweet in the praise of
Material dream and bird sympathetic.
Pray for fire, light
And physical on both sides of the music.
Do not say that the stone, said to be windows
You do not like the shadow of the same.
Talk about the man, talk about the kids, talk about the stars.
You repeat the syllable in
Light, happy, and refuse to leave.
You will say: men, women, children.
In this, the United States is more youth.
II
This is a place south, in this
Lime riots
Challenges attention.
You have in this life. Sometimes in his sleep
You still live here. Water birth name
Flowing from your mouth.
Goats along the road, you go
Beach, beating the sea
Those rocks, those syllables.
On the first day or last day
Light in the
Drowning eyes disappear.
This is perfect.
C
Rain falls in the dust, just as fall
Li Bai's poems. In the South
Time has a pair of big round eyes;
In the south, wheat roll,
It's mane the wind and dance,
This is my last ship
Fluttering flags;
In the south, the land exudes the smell of white linen,
Exudes the aroma of bread on the table,
The hot yellow sun occupied water
It fell to the dust, light and hot.
Like the poem falls.
IV
Cling to your cheeks sadness, no longer even
Listening nightingale singing. Perhaps the Thrashers?
You insufferable air, your faithful mother's land,
Also true blue sky, birds in the blanking,
Air-to-separated heaven and earth.
Music, so we called,
Always be your wounds, but also
Mania on the hill.
Do not listen attentively Nightingale. Or thrust.
In the depths of your
All the music is a bird.
V
A friend, sometimes the desert,
Sometimes water.
None of you from August
Noise; a body is not always
This place: light quietly bare
Lemon filled with birds,
Summer living on the hair;
Leaves in the dark sleep between
Moist skin
Shine,
Tongue hard to bloom.
Is a real word.
Six
White stork.
Brought me the church courtyard,
There are two or three houses should be white,
There are towers, the white stork in this
Touched down, then
I Love comes like mulberry,
The sun in the mouth suffocation,
You remember? Perhaps this is another mouth,
Another reason for the heavy, I do not remember,
I use stones
To make you afraid of dog sent packing,
And flee
I loved to quietly embrace
Brown pony.
Seven
Now I live more close to the sun, friends
Do not know the way here: This very good,
I do not belong to any person, in the high branches,
A brother, crossing birds, listen to its song of freedom,
As image, reflecting the different images,
Polish
There is no community alert eyes,
Only tides, with the coming and going
Enthusiasm by the forgotten structure,
The surface is sweet foam dust,
Nothing more.
Eight
The balcony is a wonderful family place
Wind blowing from here.
I found my body, I
Sunshine recognized as friends.
Slow time in the high wall stay
This summer, I sleep in
The horse gift to the sea:
When they hit water, I issued a call to panic
Or the cries of love, I have not know it.
Life is a flower growing teeth biting,
Learning breathing in danger, every step
In a burst of light in the skin will burst.
Nine
Steps along the early morning
To poplar leaves,
Make a star's brother or son,
Perhaps one day be the father of light silk,
I do not want to know, with her my name in water,
Eyes secret wedding
Cactus and thirsty lips,
I do not know
How to die for such hesitation,
To such a desire:
To do a flame, burning
Traveled dolphin stars
Until the ashes.
Ten
But the horses, only children
The wild eyes, endless silk
Let me be missing.
I miss, not
The dark sound of the river, which, I heard too much,
Not my first touch
Let me taste the love
Fresh waist;
Is that the eyes
Over the one night
Came from a distance along a path
Steal my sleep
And squander my heart
My heart, laden with dew in the Alentejo.
Eleven
When I woke up, a group of swallows have been there,
Drag the early jump on the roof;
They may take in March
Naked sun:
Who woke up, will put his own voice
And the separation of such small things:
New leaves are changing color,
Has receded is
Taste of rain, the pride of thistle
Youth is not safe nudity,
There in the morning, animals never enough
Strong pain.
Swallow does not always come this way.
In this way they come.
So come.
Twelve
Soon, the sun in March
Is coming to an end.
It was there to walk every stone
Each cat's best friend, on the grass
It's the children who light Ding
With the roll.
No one can catch hold Mouguang
Sun rose behind closed doors,
Faced with this silence, and no one will
Continue a long song.
If you come to the window, may see
Finally, the sun is dying.
Crazy, crazy March sun.
Thirteen
Have not see wheat, and
Slowly on the waves rolled mountains.
Can not say that they have gone with you
You take away
Childhood position just jump off the wall,
Will be a flush of the cherry
His mouth, or
Put a smile hidden in the pocket,
You take away the
Sounded the whistle to the doves
Or to a glass of water,
Like a ball of yarn as he bowed to sleep,
Only the cat was so sleep.
This is what you all are mulberry disseminated.
Fourteen
Friendship day has just begun
Always toward the bright summer madness;
I know the happiest time
Than
Evening walk on the dunes,
Spent some time in September;
But the death crawl along the rocks,
Heart
Anxious to fall into the water
When a person tear up the skin
Like a child exposed in the sun
He can expect?
Fifteen
Now I want to tell you, September
How to come to an end.
How come the fog mouth.
September is always on the hill
A group of innocent sun,
Starlings on a branch,
Heard in the distance
Challenge the wind whistle.
Residual light
Still singing in the grass, and perhaps
This is my love song, a juvenile
Stroll along.
There are shepherds.
Sixteen
Ah tree, tree. With one day I want to
Summer maternal heart and become a tree.
Flower neck pigeons
I will proclaim the new life.
One day I want your hands
Throw quiet but still warm soil,
I climb down the sky
Trees are allowed to do such a thing.
Until then, I will live in the naked eyes,
I'm tired of my body, which
Stretches of desert in the water,
At the same time, the fog to wet hands
On the leaves.
There is fire.
Seventeen
I do not know what the flower of the water,
But I know it's fragrance:
After the first rain
It climbed onto the roof of the platform,
Bare over the balcony, into the house,
It is still wet body
Find our bodies, and began trembling:
Mouth as if it should
The remaining immortal
Let us drink,
Let the earth all the music,
All the music of heaven belongs to us
Until the end of the world,
Until the East Fangyu Xiao.
Eighth
The reason the world
Not exactly your reason.
Life is not any easy burning hands,
Live is a light polish
According to the body through the thick,
Blind walls.
If the spring of surviving,
Spring will bring the taste of blood,
But not to the crown of flame.
Water black scarf,
And seabirds in the stool
Are an integral part of your pain.
Ebb
Always blowing an semen taste.
Nineteenth
Before the arrival in the summer
Hopefully, restless body and the body
End to decorate the house, put the bread
On the table, will flower in the roof height.
My face close to the ground,
Eyes do not hurt returns,
Not a friend,
No sound hot to stand.
I accept to stay here - only
Lawn audible,
It was the rain, walked the cold feet,
Rain is my companion.
Twenty
No, this is not the March
Disturbed sun
Bloom in a smiling bow,
Wheat seedling growth is not robust,
Expand the wings of a swallow of silk,
Grazed bare shoulders
A lonely river, in the throat
Sleep;
No, this is not even after having sex
Body fermentation, exuded a pleasant smell,
Floated down the street,
Nor that the small square
Came a sudden silence
Like a ship, the bow in a smile;
No, just a glance Mouguang.
The twenty-first
My eyes gaze
The most vulnerable areas of your body: death,
Died in August
With the birds died of loneliness.
At this time, I was immortal:
Around in my whole body
I have your arm:
Noon hot sand.
From your chest, overlooking the sea
Vertical splash:
In August, died in your mouth,
And the birds together.
Twenty-two
Summer leftovers, only
Hairs, skin luster, some of
Notice the sea swallow
Migration of the cry, the rest of the stuff
Do not look in my mouth;
Never desert my lips out in flowers,
Silence, a rare flower in the flower
Never dawn in the crystal;
Another thing the rest of the summer sky light,
Forward, forward
In the purest water in front of the line,
It will not be back soon, will not return
The bed, these words.
Twenty-three
They have land and clouds touch the sky,
Stay in the branches,
They are open to the desert themselves,
Sometimes become stars.
They arrived tired at night,
Sleepless nights, the death of the water
Insecure, hot morning
Make them clear and transparent.
Their work is light touch,
Collected from the air
A fruit or a stone in the shape of
And quietly took them home.
Hands like this, but their own
Knew nothing about.
Round
Sea. I again went in front of the sea.
I first saw the sea, is the mother
Eyes, wave wave attached
Perfectly quiet, and then
Toward the cliff, no fetters.
I put the sea in his arms, numerous,
Many nights, I
Asleep or awake, listening to
It is the glass in the dark beating heart,
Stars until the shepherd
In my chest, on tiptoe
Through the night full of notches.
The sea, so far away from me call
Its waves, in addition to my boat, had also taken away what?
Twenty-five
Anger, their anger toward the
Where the shadow cast by acacia,
Body, pain due to excessive desires.
They looked around, no one saw them,
The land is sand, hard shadows,
Body has hardened,
To make dry lips, eyes only
Also contains a cool water.
First, the fingers of the blind
Tear, injury, and then the teeth
Biting, not even
To sex into the body of the time.
They are very young; land are not,
It is exhausted,
Wasp stings the heart is
Just want to die.
Twenty-six
Table, fruit in the combustion: pears,
Oranges, apples had a premonition
Close to the white teeth,
The aspirations of the oppressed,
It is the old voice lead the strong drink;
Sad burning, to create a
Another city, another country
Other sky, the release of
Eyes and laughter: Please join me to lie down,
I bring you from the sea
Light waves curl
And captured in the waist support this hot.
Twenty-seven
Back to the body, rushed to go,
Do not fear physical violence.
No one mouth is cold,
Even across
Winter. A mouth, close to the mouth of another
Be immortal: hot stones, the stars open the door,
Light flash out, take
Shoulders, chest, thighs, buttocks and penis.
These limbs and organs of your waking up in the heart,
Become pure,
They are very solid, shiny.
Twenty-eight
I have not approached the other way
Your mouth: how many rounds the sun, how many times the tide
Burning, into the snow just for you:
Body
Throwing anchor in the summer: Seabirds
Circled to wear the crown of your head:
The music does not end
Liberation from the fingers:
Around the backbone of the sun, came to his waist,
Falls on the sweetest part of the hip:
In order to send you lips, burning
How many times the tide, the number of boats.
Twenty-nine
I did not say that and summer,
At the time the sun
Hiding in children naked
Between the river and cheerful.
Pain is no longer the image -
Smile, running, teeth white,
Or sun
Burning in the center of our body -
They came to bring here
The snow is so rare,
They like the falling of the dust
Slowly around the fire to sit down.
They sat there, listening to the wind
To bring things. Until the night comes.
Thirty
Before talking to the memory of that night
Burn you, kiss you before
That first bite of your mouth
Salt burn you.
In the morning, you do not have dead space
You have only a cave
To bury the tears,
Only one litter to drive flies.
Responsibilities of the soul is free.
Animals is a miracle,
Does the sun have done their brothers
No memory.
May already be out, might have become ruins.
Thirty-one
I can not remember, in the eyes of the deep
Are there cats and sun_set_s,
Dusk is approaching,
Bright saffron become withered.
What was so take my hand?
What woods are still waiting for me?
What is the shadow of a sudden burning my soul,
This hidden river?
That atmosphere, that glorious, in a
What a unique way through the window.
How dark, how harsh,
It's sad blue thrush.
This song, does not it?
Thirty-
In the shadows, I give the name of the fire
Also to the shadows.
Place in my memories,
Curly illusory sun
Is land, sea dyed orange.
No air is full of sound:
Conversation is no different from
Saliva splash, the joy of the saddest most lonely.
In animals and humans, the children
Tau is a physical monster.
Body betrayed not come back,
No longer is the original shape.
Xxxiii
The color of those days - you help me please
To find, tis the flower of the water,
Sinking, the stars as close as brothers,
Among the things still in the small
Drift, these things
All belong to the body, belongs to the Earth,
Rosy transparent,
Dew encrusted carmine,
Childish laughter filled the morning gallop of hooves,
First wipe the green
Approximate ashes of the blue,
Into the white light on the ashes of Yang Shuguan.
Thirty
No, I'm not looking portraits.
Then you sideways, light gray
Were drawn from your arm,
Emitting smoke around the house
Curl up the fall
The final step, a dog
Jump in the yard, night
Will soon come.
You sideways, hands on his chest
Accompanied me to give you the roses.
Your hands stay here, forever,
Hand also rose.
Thirty-five
Sometimes a man walked into the house
Led by the Department with a fall of gossamer,
He slept soundly
Even silence is attributed to silence.
Perhaps the night I heard the cock crow,
Perhaps a boy climbed up the stairs
Bring a bouquet of carnations
And my mother's message.
I have never been so painful, I say to you,
In my shadow, the sun
Never to die
So young, so hazy.
Seemed to snow.
Thirty-six
Back in March, the birds
The sour madness
Again at our door,
Glass
Air, straight into the heart vessel.
Hill, those mountains are singing:
But we do not have one
Listen, we
Absence in the wind or other travelers
Monotonous syllables.
You already know how we
Retain the remaining enthusiasm,
How in the world
Shown great indifference.
Thirty-seven
Not just the house. These same words
Is now riddled with gaping wounds in the skin.
Sun does not say,
Just put a smile to the wind,
This is the kind of light? If the text is singing,
Where you sing? In the heart of a friend
Fire residues preserved material.
How can we expect it
Continue to exist? Most people grow wings
Speak. He sweetly
Open the night. At this point the snow,
Oh, the snow, still waiting.
Thirty-eight
Of white birds, the too late
Side of the wall of death will not only die
Only death
Will not put a fire on his ship.
Beam of light across the sky opacity gap
Escape with wounds,
It can not illuminate a delay hand,
It is the honey dumped on the ground.
It is in the edge of night
Path knot untied,
The voice of a child
Pray with a rope tied silence.
Or words - full of forgotten places.
Thirty-nine
They came back with the noise of the rain
Warm hands.
Smile abducted
Back to their young lips.
In fact, I never knew
The name of this flower, morning
It is rapidly opening up some eyes.
Now, that was too late.
I know that even in my sleep
There is also a voice did not go to sleep,
This is a way to inhabit the sun,
The tears burning footprints.
Rain, beating my body.
Forty
Death has always been my sister
It shook the broken light
It did not harvest hay (not always mature)
This is a happy task
To others, then flew to a height lark
Singing loudly or burning, and to win
Heritage day
- The voice of salt, lemon
The taste of the South, perhaps the flute sounded
Long and beautiful vibrato - the sun's death
Nostalgia, is it a holiday?
Forty-one
I left the eyes and words.
I have only a piece of paper
Cleared above
Mole cricket unbearable noisy.
Wet foliage in the evening between
I do not know forgot to put my hand in where.
And rain with perhaps
Flowing between the stone,
Trekking in the mud, in the mist
Fall.
The hand of the blind
Lose yourself.
Forty
Come here, your ear in my mouth,
I want to tell you a secret,
Arm around a man the night
Lying on the sand, I heard him cry
Separately with another person, no one heard the cry,
Sun has been rotting for a long time.
I do not know whether he is waiting for the morning
To leave, or thorns, and sand dunes along
Stay, his eyes
Full of ignorance and kindness,
Thus he
The face of slander, to face the wind.
He was like a dog, even less.
Forty-three
We do not know bad habits in vain
Art of the game to our hands
To lead: In the sleep
Bottom,
South window open.
No one knows how to use
This knowledge, more often, it seems more love
The opposite of life: a body
The end of the summer has just began to die,
Until the snow comes.
In the wilderness, another voice calling
Another love:
Between sleep and fever.
Forty-four
Could hear, behind the sea wall.
In November, November, can be clearly seen
Each syllable had left traces of the sea.
A man and a dog on the horizon.
They were walking in the evening,
Toward the sea.
Behind the wall.
The pain from afar, and the sea is always
Followed.
Written in the fog in November.
That and the dog into the night,
Shadows, black shadows of the night.
Forty-five
November's entrance, no one.
November came, as if nothing.
The door has been opened,
It came in, feet barely touched the ground.
Did not look at the bread, no taste wine.
Untie the knot without the cold.
Only in the violet light, the stop
The children toward the house smiling.
That mouth, then eyes. The hands
Does not belong to anyone. It is to leave
It has its own music, their own laws, their own secrets.
But before it touched the earth.
As if the earth is its mother.
Forty-six
In winter, difficult to cope with both hands
Fingers,
Sent me the name of the wind -
The four syllables of snow.
In the bleak walls, the vertical
White on the desolate,
Residual traces of a tear
So vague or so small
Anything.
Hand writing on the earth:
No other burial,
Flower light
Is a one Pippi.
Forty-seven
Now that hand; it can not fly;
Not even the stone
Into the sun; hand Jinzuan is
Nothing.
Hand loss, turbulence, not safety;
Only know the desert, bare
Desert;
Only know that no walls and no roof home.
It does not dream; not dream of
Moist, like brothers, text,
Even the feet do not know the text;
Just text.
It does not know anything.
Forty-eight
Tonight I work crazy
Is to give Eagle a special status;
I'm going to die; the height of the lips,
The sea can be my home.
Morning expelled from the sun in my eyes;
I look snow climb,
Collected in air
Transparent and green fragrance.
No one can open eyes
Endure the world's weight;
The horses ran away with the night together;
They run, do not want to die.
Forty-nine
House into the water,
Courtyard open to the sun
Thorns
In the flowering
Window, only the old sea
Flashing glow of youth,
It is seen moving around the ship,
Many of the sailors
Watching
Morningstar flashed,
Lost direction and reason:
Only in death we are not strangers.
Fifty-
I am satisfied, on the life without debts,
Only owes me a living
Several text a little money.
We owe the two incompatible, so
The body has to rest: it had previously
Day work, planting,
Also harvested, until
Something lost, poor,
Extremely poor beast,
Now it has retired the testicles.
One day I will stretch out their legs
Fig tree lying under the tree, many years ago
I saw it growing up alone:
We belong to the species.
(End)
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Green God
As night falls,
You will be exposed springs charming.
Your body is like a stream,
Slow down,
Calmly hitting both sides of the embankment.
You hurry,
Not a minute stopped.
As you chase the pace,
Grass ground-breaking initiation,
Trees where they stand.
You smile like dancing
You are using familiar melodies gods,
Shake with the rhythm of the same body,
Moving at the same time,
Leaves the body after another landing.
Thoroughfare has been advancing along its own,
Because you are a crossing of the gods.
Inadvertently cents on everything around.
Indulge in a piccolo
Playing out of the music.
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Serenade
Frogs
Music late at night all night
- Poetry reservoir
Song of the ship rot
There are occasional flashes sparkling moonlight.
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Elegy for September
I do not know how you come
However, there must be a way
So you die and reincarnation.
You sit in the garden,
Hands on their chests full of tenderness,
Gazed long and quiet day in September
The last few of them will bloom the roses red.
What music makes you so fascinated
I have not found even approached?
Forests, rivers, and oceans?
Or in your heart
Everything is still singing?
I want the front to talk to you
I only say to you on your side,
But I am afraid,
All the music so afraid of the suspension,
You can no longer afraid of roses gaze,
Flanagan fear of tearing thin,
You are using it to compile without the memory of the time weaving.
What kind of discourse
Or kiss, or tears
Can make the dead wake up from harm,
It does not take them to
Shadow, all duplicate
Black world come from?
You just sit still,
Full of tenderness
Staring Rose
Ren fascinated
I have not seen your side.
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Parting words
In sorrow
Head on the top
The gold of the day all
Removal.
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Sea, and sea
You ask me, but I do not know
I also do not know what is the sea.
Late at night I was reading a letter from the repeated
That is probably tear welling in the sea.
Your teeth, your teeth may be
All of the little white teeth is the sea,
A small piece of the sea,
Affectionate,
Like the distant music.
When the waves one after another
Crashed on me
It is clearly the mother calling me.
Is caressed by the sea at this time,
In the humid light among
My children wake up young at heart.
Sometimes the sea is a white image,
Sparkling among the rocks.
I do not know the sea is around,
Or in the transparent shells,
Seeking to find some kind of kiss.
No, the sea is not a tuberose, not a lily.
It is a dead boys
Opened his lips to kiss and waves.
It is the blood,
During the beam of light to hide
In order to separate a beam of light and fell in love on the beach.
Curved crescent do not want to submergence
Rising to the night dragged on.
Mother's hair loosened,
Placed in the water floating,
It is the breeze from my heart
It heal.
Smaller sea again, and mine,
Anemone blooming in my fingers.
I also do not know what is the sea,
Standing barefoot on the beach,
Anxiously await the dawn.
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Perfectly
Mouth
There are a mass of
Very old
Summer Flame
Flash
The mouth in anticipation
(A mouth
In addition to the other mouth
Can expect? )
Looking forward to the wind's
Hot,
Well into birds
Singing.
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Couples money
They faced in the past pedestrians,
Hearts with legend and myth,
Also equipped with ice cold.
In their garden,
Moonlight walk holding the hand of the water,
Stone angel like brothers.
Like all people,
Their daily miracle
Sliding along the roof,
Golden eyes,
Burning in hot
Most blurred dream.
They endure hunger like animals by thirst,
Passing by the Department,
Was quiet.
With their every expression,
A bird in the fingers will be born
Dazzling to fly into the vast sky.
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September Sea
Everything is bright and Cham:
Lips, sky, beach.
The sea in close proximity,
Raging waves splash.
Body or Haitao
Come from,
Sweet, gentle - only
Soul and white.
Happy when singing,
When quiet sleep,
Wake up love,
Like the quiet chant.
Everything is bright and Cham,
In my youth, dashing,
The sea in close proximity,
Extremely pure, glittering.
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Writing for the death of the young seaman's epitaph
Someone asked you, I heard
The mysterious sound of the sea.
Someone asked you, I see
Sea blue silhouette.
Someone asked you, I replied:
He woke up, dressed in white.
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Urgent need
Urgent need for love.
Urgent need to have a boat at sea.
Urgent need to eliminate some of the words:
Hatred, loneliness, cruelty,
A little lament
Such as Lin's sword.
Urgent need to create joy,
Multiply kiss and harvest.
Urgent need to rose, the river looking for,
Then there is the bright morning.
Silence and the dark
Pressure sore shoulders.
Urgent need to survive,
Urgent need for love.
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Write a poem on the beach in LAC
I am on your shoulders, breathe.
Tall and narrow vessel
Extraordinarily beautiful.
Well, ah, your face close to my face,
How brilliant your chest that brilliant!
I am on your shoulders, breathe.
Summer-like golden beach
Extraordinarily beautiful.
Well, ah, my face close to your face,
How deep blue sea in your hands!
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Singing
You are the snow.
Caress off by snow.
Tears and Jasminum
Beginning at dawn.
You are water.
Kiss you, you are water.
Tower, soul, ship,
Gave no beginning or end of the farewell.
You are the fruit
In my trembling fingers.
We can sing
Or fly, we can die.
However, May
Keep in mind Yoshina,
Never left me
Color and taste.
-------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------
Wait
Time, endless time
Heavy, deep,
I will wait for you,
Until the silence.
Until a stone fragmentation,
Open into flowers.
A bird flew up out of my throat,
Disappeared in the boundless.
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Calm nature, laden with fruit
A
Raspberry morning blood
_Select_ white as the linen love.
II
Filled with morning glory and sweet
The pure face overlooking the apple.
C
Orange in the sun and the moon
Sleeping together.
IV
Can recite every grape
Summertime name.
V
I love the pomegranate tree
Open flame heart.
"In Portugal, poets" (Yao Jingming Sun Cheng Ao _Select_ed Translations)
February 1993 the first edition (China Translation and Publishing Corporation)
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