outland poetry
anthology 诗选
Hugo Claus
Even now (excerpt) 1 Even now, her mouth with a piece of what Barcelona, Wake up bloated lips, eyes closed, she She is lost and then I know something, yes, But how do I lose her, how drunk dog barking law? 3 Even now, her nails deeply wounding, bruising her nipple, Her smooth cheeks - vertical smile intervening, Mockery of metaphysical love she would say: "ah, love, Every member of your sperm are there in God and the Blessed Virgin. " 4 Even now, whip marks, gnawing marks, red scars, tattoos, All in all the wounds of love under her Qingshan, And I'm afraid this will continue - and I, sick, Insidious in its no man's land, claws. 10 Even now, I have vertical white flag, hands in the air, shouting "I am a friend!." But the surrender to her. I heard on the battlefield because she stammered said, With her mother's accent. 12 Even now, her whole body carmine, sweat flash And her cave, painted baby oil, shine slippery. But I know she is still just a posture, But not echo, full of chance and regret. 13 Even now, I once again forget all the gods, She squeeze me, blame me, appointed me, She governs the four seasons, especially in winter, Become increasingly lovely, cold, and when I asymptotic dates of death. 15 Even now, she is so trembling, whispered " "Why do you do it? I will not let you, my king." There is nothing I am more proud of the king, and I desperate to show To her, my "King" from his one-eyed out how the tears come. 17 Even now, despite the death of bees to gather around me, I taste the honey on her abdomen, listening to her spasm Diming buzz, watching her mobile, carnivorous Wet pink flower petals. 21 Even now, I think between me and stay night Narrow the time, she has always been the stars, Grassland, a cockroach, is the fruit, is the maggots And I am pleased to accept it all. 24 Even now, she was not just her beautiful body in the water, Is a duck and can glide, living lake on which, That is a duck with a STICK me - hear me quack, quack call! - And she would roll over me in waves, or pretending so. 27 So even now, by her chains, nose like a lover like Bleeding, and I say " "Death, not to torment the earth, do not delay, sweet death I came to meet, but as she did, knocking over it! " -------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------ After fencing Saturday Sunday Monday week, weak days of slow Landscapes still life portrait When I approached the close of the Woman's eyelid Golden journey in which cattle Compassion into the season of burning Dark blue field of landscape If so I also made another piece of still life There does not recognize the moon-like eyebrows and mouth A spiral like a trumpet of salvation Jerusalem in my room. -------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------ Family Dad was eating partridge, his mother was away And George and I talking about murder And Alice home, and where the train ride When the sun rolled into our attic And shining in the haystack Side of his mouth to curse my father, "God has eyes George home And I continue to play with trains Through the power, on the floor between pillars Moving around. -------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------ Maxiyasi * Songs in my heat, my voice in the native wine To his back, ah wolf throat Apollo, The child that suppress the voice of his servant, his singing Fugue dull knife and fork, the wolf-like Cuga throat song gods. He therefore furious contempt for all, Cut my throat. I tied to a tree, was whipped, was nailed Width of the language until his lips words into my mouth water Sudden collapse of the ear Watch me? Is http rope tied static space, Are both rich flogging, sticks, Gossip, Are targeted, Xiangebanbei clinch the The flame of hunger, pain swamp. Wind nails pierce my intestines. Needles rain and snow to surf in the sand on my skin. No one worked my healing. My songs both deaf and dumb to hang in the hedges. I can only sound teeth were stretched out toward the Virgin, Breaking waves in these Who else is still a virgin or virgin of the body? (I'm hungry mouth spit I curse I hung it on the roof of the flag Junfu Alfalfa and grain shell and the rabble - but you made of stone. I sing - but you do feathers, standing Like a heron, like a mourning of the standard column. Or you are vultures - there - the cradle rocking the bald eagle? Or in the south, low, star, golden Taurus? ) No one worked my healing. Knowledge in my cellar mine seedlings bursting open. * Maxiyasi (Marsyas), to the superb flute arts known to the sun god Apollo and the challenge of art music, convention loser was whipped and beaten to death. Muse served as a judge sentenced Maxiyasi lost. -------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------ Mother I am not, not only in your soil. You are screaming your skin quiver And my bones on fire. (My mother, she being trapped in the skin, With the return back to the age change. Qing Qian her eyes, looked at me Call out "Happy son," Order to escape the years of all ages. She is not a stone bed, not the animal heat, Her joints are kitten But my skin did not forgive her, I am still quiet voice of cricket. "You look taller than I," she said, While slowly wash the feet of his father, and then peace, and People do not like the mouth of the woman. ) My bones screaming in your skin when on fire. You make me lie down, so that the image I absolutely can not afford another. I was invited but bloodthirsty guests. Now, then, for you I'm a strange man. See me, you thought: "He is Summer, he made my flesh and my body Awake dogs. " Day after day you die on your feet, not my Companionship, I am not, not only in your soil. Your life in my body rot, rotation; you do not Back to me, and I can not recover from you self. -------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------ Tulum man * As a relative Do not meet daily Suddenly sitting in the corner of the room Filled with cold silence and dissonance of the king He does not sleep, just sitting quietly. He did not eat live worms, We are now a Look hungry vermin. God in his time with songs, War, vessels, and Revenge He was death with Pi Shengle And then thrown into the middle of his field "soil, and throws Ice and iron age. Leave the intestine Flaxseed, oat cakes and ale signs " He died in the winter, shortness of breath No lime into the marsh mud. Villagers stopped, Rake with plug to withstand his throat, and nodded In the summer fruit of his sacrifice of time. But he was a murderer? Infidels? Or a defector? Kneel down in a vacuum, His body touched the land of his search, could not find the branches and trees; Revenge does not enter the heart, Because he was blessing his swamp smile. Wooden box will rot, bricks will be pulverized, grass hay and dirt will turn; But he lay there, a few centuries of human kin As ropes, one ear was crushed, teeth fall for. ("When I was struggling to climb into your body World seems to be magnificent Dying of things until I Full of resentment. When I gave you life when children If you screamed like hinds dog like a lamb. I am a dagger made of Bodhi Wood _Insert_ed into your skin, that immense swamp. ") That he should not spoil the acid In the grass grow He Dagongzuoyi, wait Fair trial of his past. If there is blood "cemented block. If there is life "for years Amazing eternal affected by gas and fingerprints. If there is blue "will be erased after a number of years, As part of your eyes blue. ("Talk to you Is a clay figurine. I kill, also was killed. Birds is west. ") In the urine and feces smell among Among the black spine, Under the roof in the Lead " My death. I made a rape? I escape from the battle? My mother foresee all this, When she pulled me into this Berries, snakes and lilac of the world, Into this trap, and her life Swamp mist. I never have to see. So this smile When I gradually sinking into the reclaimed land, Like the howling of the horned animals feel pain. The children shouted that there are good reasons I look ridiculous moldy. They know why the axiom of justice, While they do not desire. My hanging has been completed, although the skin on my neck Will shrink in the coming century And you will be annoyed, straight down to your Alto, beams, Because they act to me. My tongue sticking out, I no longer speak, Since then, the lock ring in your clothes, Scream in your smile, If I'm so You also. Search gestures, you find yourself Clamor for my trapped for several days and distortion. How old are you now? You will be burned at the stake Or continue until the swelling to burst? Victims have justice. You follow me every time something changes in action You can also be preserved; while the pale light that Is still burning inside you, you pick all of our fragment collection. * Tulum man (The Tollund Man), Denmark Qiu Lande (Juland) excavated marsh area, naked body (or being strangle, or throat was cut) one of the many remains from the Iron Age has retained its head is A lake hidden in thinking (Aarhus) Intrinsic near Fort (Silkeburg) Museum. According to the Danish archaeologists Geluo Bu "swamp people" mentioned in the book, which is the sacrifice for the ritual Shenmu, as the master of the goddess of the earth requires a different groom every winter with her to sleep in the Holy Land. -------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------ Turkey Among the bushes in the farmyard poultry only Western And endeavor to find dig in the earth Apple peel. Dressed apes, his _Set_tled in the guard in the fleshy skin, Throughout the night with a huge egg hatching, That this turkey feast just let the saliva of the feast. However, the hole will not let any greedy only proud of poultry from the full Day talking animals Education possessor of its oil. We are too fat to be raised Wattle end to the blood coral Swell anger - This turkey is perfect order, Bach cantatas, as two hundred in any one. -------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------ In Flanders fields Extremely fertile soil here. Even if fertilization has not been so many years, You can still planting out more than any market The dead of leek. British veterans shaking body reduced. Each year, the more they shrink to their smaller friends, said: Hill Sixty, Sixty One Hill, Pol Capel. Combine Flanders running circles Smaller, consisting of sand bags around the rigid Winding corridors, the death of the intestines. Cream of this region Eating up the taste of the opium poppy.
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