outland poetry
anthology 诗选
Damaso Alonso
Slow Dawn Slow dawn Blue sky, Green, Grape land. And you, the dawn, carrying me. Dawn of the car, ah, Too slow, Dawn of the car, ah, Too full My new grass strains, Immature and quiver, It is bound to - their own unwittingly - Withering - Do not understand why the land - Wither. (Translated by Wang Yue Central) -------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------ Insomnia Madrid is a country with more than a million dead bodies of the city (according to recent statistics). Sometimes I toss and turn at night to fall into this cave, in which forty-five years I have rotted, One hour long and I hear the wind roar, like dogs barking, or monthly charge and the gentle light surge. In one hour long as I like the whistling wind, anger, like dogs barking, the old cattle as warm surge of breast milk. One hour long where I questioned God, questioned why he let my soul slowly decay, Why is there so that the city of Madrid more than a million dead bodies decay, Why does the world have millions of millions of rotting corpses slowly. Said to me, you want to use our garden fertilizer to which the remains? Are you afraid of the huge rose bushes during the day And your night miserable that deadly white the Netherlands, you suck? (Translated by Wang Yue Central)
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