outland poetry
anthology
诗选
Adrienne Rich
Affected people
Then the sun will fall on the long sea
Stacked with golden golden; we slowly
Away playing cards, umbrellas,
Picnic basket full of sand and scraping shawl
In silence down the sand dunes. There are two
As lovers often do, as behind,
They chose another way. For our
Is the end of the night, under artificial light
We return to house asleep. Things can be jealous without any
The two men could be anywhere
Observation of light in the dark in summer, track
Outside of a stray fragments of the universe.
Do not want them, in a house in the lowlands
They should come back in, leaving the lights.
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Reading History
1
Evil eye
Last night we sat together and projectors
Realistic mock scene in 1906,
Until suddenly, see
Living room decorated with tassels, Sister
Is rejected with disdain the pursuit of a seemingly impossible by
Head decorated with flashing hair around the plants,
My heart fell when. It was horrible.
I smell those musty velvet booty,
Dust on the eyepiece like a gloomy distorted image into a mold.
I know exactly which is how the couple died.
Today, fresh and clean in the morning.
Your camera accidentally,
Pierce my deadly place.
The womb of a celluloid
Contains the old and weak and all I want.
2
Hostility
Pirandello
Looks like an old historian
(Oval-shaped head, clusters of white beard,
His eyes
More than eager to reconciliation).
Fourteen years in the face of
The hearts of his wife
His own evil image
He was the hall of mirrors
Built and built
Which appear in
Which is observed.
Real control of your wife like a nonsense,
Clever, because crazy is always wise,
From her talent in the disability
Dig out your secret truth.
She knows you want
And dare not hope that things:
Reminded
You have hate and want to forget everything.
What you now
You knew what you and her together?
She will not get you thinking.
Is important to leave
To create relationships. All
Crazy thoughts in rapid manner
Occurred. Even if you
Have not thought of that.
Out, walking,
Think of self long past.
3
Memorial
I remember
A granduncle Civil War letter
Fifteen-year-old Chang Chrysler in Brownsville,
Not good at telling stories,
Word fight is not good, most of the ideas
Also expressed is not clear;
In particular, we collected
A letter he wrote home:
I'm fine
Sisters, how, I hope you, too.
Spartan battle is broken echo of his tortured mind?
He died, became his father's memory.
The strong smell of history suspicious
Issued under the arms from the day:
Lure the masses to fantasy
Or he's awakened from Dier Xi
To see the universe, he stared through the window frames?
We thought the prisoners what happened,
The dreamer is still dreaming of the last word?
In fact, in the event of any of these woods?
In the afternoon a forgotten?
4
Consanguinity
History can show us
Fragments of our self, or even
In poetry and music
Have their own independence?
Today, sitting in her grandmother's
Velvet sofa, curved mahogany on
Mature and full of grapes,
We read the great Victorian
Almost in tears, as if
Bridge, a broken family.
Those men and women angry giant,
Our friends and relatives last!
We stare at their faces, listen to
Their last words
(Or a version because it offended the piety
But not reported.)
Cat tail disappeared into the reading room.
Tobacco-colored dust
Floating in the latest magazine.
I'm hiding here quickly read
Older versions of "life from World War II."
We looked so poor and loyalty:
Disheveled hair
Not the girl dressed ─ ─
Where you now?
Ten years ago
You navigation, go to Europe to buy things
Naive, hoarded.
Match your nylon luggage
Eyelid
Skilfully dyed blue.
I also live in history.
6
Contract
The reality of our broken hearts. We lie down and freezing,
Cold finger as a bunch of keys.
Nothing can thaw the bones
Unless the memory as an old blanket scoop us
When we sleep at home again,
Sniffing picnic, storage room, vomiting
The smell of an old nightmare,
Insomnia stain is expanding.
Or I sit halfway know
Like, and a difficulty to tell the truth
Dying together, now it is essential
Or a hand groping
Slit in the mattress where you can read out the letter.
To give you water. Sleep. Then you have no expectations.
I live with my mind take away your life.
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Diving into the Wreck
First read about the myth of
Fitted with cameras,
Check the blade,
I wear body armor of black rubber
Funny flipper
And seriously scary masks.
I have to do it
Unlike the Coast
And his diligent team
But the board alone
Sunshine flooded schooner
Ladder
Always innocent
Hanging on the side of the boat.
We know it is for what,
We used it.
Otherwise,
It is the offshore thread
A different device.
I'm down.
Grade level
I still oxygen Jin Zhao
Blu-ray
The air people
The clear atoms.
I'm down.
Flippers make me limp,
Like an insect down the ladder
No one told me there
When ocean
Start.
Air first blue, then
More blue, black and green
I'm losing memory, my mask
Still strong
Make my blood circulation
The sea is another story
The power of the sea is not a problem
I have to study alone
Elements in the deep
Not forced to turn around.
Now: It is easy to forget
Why do I come
Has been in so many
Things in life here
They shook a loophole in the fan
Between reef
In addition
You are here breathing is also very different.
I have to explore the wreck.
Words are my goal.
Words are maps.
I look at the damage it has suffered
And that land of treasure.
I slowly stroked the lights
The side of a thing
Than fish and seaweed
More durable
I came for it:
The story is a wreck and not wreck
Is the thing itself, not the myth
Addicted to staring at the face
Sun
Evidence of damage by salt corrosion
Swing, ragged and beautiful
Disaster in the ribs
Who stay in temporary
Bent.
This is the place.
I am here, black hair, such as rapids
Mermaid, covered with armor Xiongren Yu
We silently
Circling around the wreck
We sneaked into the cargo hold.
I was her: I was his
Addicted to sleeping with his eyes open face
Breast is still under pressure
Silver, brass, beads sand
Cargo bucket lying dim
Half of the wedge to live, waiting for decay
We are half destroyed equipment
Has sailed
Measurement range of corrosion by water meter
Clogged compass
The timid, or the brave
We, me and you
Are such people,
With a knife, a camera
A myth is not the name of the book we
Back to the scene.
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Close to the winter solstice
The last day of November.
Started to snow.
A rare silence
In the field, maple trees started.
This is the last day of May,
Rain poured in the old bush,
Shed from the most tender grass.
I tried to stare with a constant
Grasp my whole life.
A spring flood overflow
This ancient sloping roof,
Sloping field below
The initial result of the winter snow thickens.
Card in the last year, the dry wind thistles
Standing naked in the green, the
Sullen stood slowly to white
Fields.
My mind is glowing
More intense, more eager
More quiet, less thick
Crystal has been rolled out,
Louder, more brutal
Flood impact
Ancient waterside deck and pebbles.
This is the last day of May,
Beginning or end,
We are close to the summer solstice
And here there are so many
I do not understand things.
If I could realize my life
How still and dead weeds,
Thistle, many workers struggle with cattle,
Slowly replacing the burden of
In this first snow,
By this initial, grueling fight against the rain
Calling the new life to declare their strong
Or die
If I could know
What language is used to inform the soul
These are low and simple roof
Requires a space
That does not speak the tenant does not move
To live is still stubborn silence
Until I can completely feel it in the haunted house.
If history is a spider silk
Spinning, although that can be gently brushed
I seem to dawn or dusk,
Quiet in the city of light
Feet from the line or frame
Identify it extends the gray,
Into the open yard
Follow it to climb
Leading to the pine forest trails,
In the fall of light, slowly
Become clear days,
To search a tree a tree
It continued, deliberately leaving traces,
Until I reach any
Cellar filled with snow or lichen
Any collapse of the humble cottage
Or completely can not remember
I'm looking for something
There, in the initial and final
The stars, I believe that instinct
Believe it will re-think
I did not say or forgot words to say
Year after year, from winter to summer
The mysterious symbol that the correct
To get rid of the past
The entanglement of the rest of my life
And my struggle of the past.
If a separate ceremony
Not yet completed
In my house
Between the long-departed tenant,
Me and my childhood,
Between my child's childhood,
I ignored
Demonstrate the necessary actions,
Put water into the corner, the light and eucalyptus
Placed in front of the mirror,
Or just stop and listen
I have the pulse of the tremor
Light as falling snow,
As cold as the rain,
Hear what it has to tell everything.
Seems I'm still waiting for them
Required to make clear
Sounds or gestures,
Waiting for relief from any place
Apart from my house.
Years, cut the dead body,
Burning of the old wounds again tear
But it's still not enough.
Years, performing with
Boring love
Take care of this house
Transplanted lilacs
Clean the windows, the paint from the blossoms on the crack
Wipe wood soot
Sweeping staircase, the spider web
Shan to the side,
But there is still so much unfinished,
Women's work, close to the winter solstice,
My hands are still hesitated
As if in a
I long feared the close of the letter.
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Yevgeny 艾尔维拉沙 written for the Fantasy Tower
Cold people feel cold
Until our blood colder than cold.
The wind stopped, and we fell asleep
If the find is speaking from his sleep
My voice is no longer a personal voice
(I have to say I want the voice)
When the wind finally run our breath pull
We no longer need language
Many years the number of months in each of our
Feel her own "is" growing in the heart
Slowly forming, when she stood at the window, waiting for the train,
Mending backpacks, hair time. At that time we will learn
What we get in this mountain
Languages from all this "is" focused on its strength
Connected to the gunpowder, but is then met a
Difficult to measure the "No"
That sucked into a black hole the whole world
I feel you kicking high to me
Hugh's left palm with a nail the shoe print their geometry
India strongly barbed snow beads in Suixiao
Like when I chase you in the Caucasus
Now that I'm far ahead, no one dreamed
It was two of us can go so far in the
Anyone can go so far
I have become
That snow, the wind will it brick paved
I love women who were hastily thrown in the mountains Ya
That blue sky
Our eyes have been dissolved freeze
After the snow We were the blue can be stitched as bedding
With love from you (I know) your loss
Tied with a tape recorder in your camera body
Despite the advice of the ice drill
To bury us in your thoughts in the snow
If my body lying here
Like a prism into your eyes flash
How can you sleep you here for your board
I boarded there for us
When you bury your story that we finished
Our story is not finished our flock
That is not the end does not start
It possible
Hot core of every cell
Pulse sent from us
Toward the thin air of the universe that
In the protective layer of rock under the snow
After a mountain basic and small changes, with
The imprint of our thinking
As we have also been many changes
Will be brought here only two of us
Choose between our own and this life
Its atmosphere and the master and forward footprint
In some locations are still engaged in and continues the
In the diary I wrote: We are now ready
Each of us know about it I never
I have never loved like that seen
My own strength into full play so
Be shared and in the long-term exercise and
Earlier under siege
Thanks again also, in our love invincible
In the diary began to tear when the storm above us
Tent I wrote:
Now I know we have been in danger
In the following when we're apart
The time when we are together in the above, but at the moment before
We did not contest the power of our
Diary from the top I was blown away that I wrote under the
What love means
"Surviving" what it means
Tied with a blue fire chain our bodies
With burning in the snow we do not want
Alive to accept less than that of
We all dream of a lifetime
This life
(Zheng Min translation)
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Twenty-one poems
A
Every place in the city, and soil are shining
Lust kinky love, flashing a science fiction vampire
Was hired as a victim of the bend under the whip,
We are here just as we walked through the ......
Rain soaked through the garbage, walk on our neighbor's tabloids
Silly rumors.
We need to put our lives inseparable from these
Rancid dreams, the metal to slip from bad taste in
Singled out.
Bright red begonia from an apartment on the sixth floor
Flashing the brink of death,
Girls long legs in high school playing field
Playing ball.
No one imagined us. We want to live like trees, like
Parasol tree is the smell of sulfur filled the air Li Shasha jitter,
Mark achievements, still energetically bud in full bloom.
Animal passion rooted in our city.
II
I wake up in your bed. I know I have been dreaming.
A little bit earlier, the alarm us separated from each other,
You have a couple of hours at the desk was. I know what I dreamed:
Our friend, the poet came to my room
I have written on the inside for several days,
Is full of drafts, draft copy, and poetry, where stalls are scattered,
I want her to read a poem
A poem about my life, but I am a little hesitant, I
Woke up. You kiss my hair,
You wake me. I dream of you is a poem,
I said, I think you are a poem to anyone ......
I laugh, and fall into the dream
You should fall significantly for each person I love to see the desire,
The attraction of gravity, the freedom to move together,
Not so easy
Bird feather grass, through the long road, taken to the rest of the air.
C
Because we are no longer young, our week in the year
Miss each other. Only this strange latitude and longitude in time
Tell me, we are no longer young.
I have been walking the streets early in the morning it? The age of twenty,
Flowing through my body pure happiness?
I have leaned from the window overlooking the city
Listened to the future?
If I am in rapt attention to your tone?
And you, you move me to the same beat.
Forever your eyes, your blue eyes early summer
Grass green flashing light,
Washed by the spring of wild blue-green celery.
The age of twenty, yes: we thought we would live forever
Forty five years old, I want to know that our limited numbers.
I touch you, know that tomorrow we are no longer born,
Know that no matter what, we will help each other live,
In some places, we will help each other die.
IV
I come home from you, through the spring morning,
Ordinary spring on each side wall flashing, multi-① restaurants in Perak Ziduo Lan,
On sale hardware store, shoe store ...... I hold in the grocery store's paper bags,
Stride rushed into the elevator
A man, stout, old, well-maintained attention to posture,
He let the elevator door in my face almost off the front - for God's sake, open the door!
I rushed forward to his cockroaches - hysterical - he gasped at me, get out.
I rushed into the kitchen, open the bundles of things,
Coffee, open the window, put the music Nina Simone ②
Her singing here comes the sun ...... I opened the message,
Drinking delicious coffee, delicious music,
My body still feeling light and powerhouse you. Message
Dropped out of what is written in a copy of a man
27 years old, a hostage in the prison in suffering:
"My genitals have been the target of such sadistic
They used the pain kept me awake ......
To survive, what to do for that matter.
You know, I think these men love war ....."
My anger can not be cured, I can not repair the pain
As the tears broke open, and I cried helplessly,
They still control the world, and you are not my arms.
V
This apartment filled with books, they are split at any time quack
Thick chin, open the eyes of the devil convex drum.
Very easy: Every time you open a book, you will have to face
You love about the other side - shelves and bookends
Blocking the side that read: nose pliers to lock them,
Even the most clear piercing voice was muttering,
Silence is not required to bury a child - to
Women, different people, witnesses ---- buried in the desert.
Kenneth told me that he arranged his book that:
He can look at when typing Blake and Kafka;
Yes ah, we still have to pay tribute to the Swift, in his
Cursing when a woman's body is still praised her mind,
Goethe afraid of his mother, Claudia Diehl slander Kidd,
Ghosts - grabs their hands over the centuries
Children died of the artist, standing before the charcoal column stake wise woman
Not been written over the centuries books piled up in the back of the shelves;
We still have to watch the empty space: men are not, they do not want to, not women, is that they can not
Speak to our lives - this has not yet been excavated deep holes
The act of translation, this half of the world,
Called civilization.
Six
Your tiny hand, with my hands as big as -
Your thumb slightly larger, long point - these hands
I entrusted the whole world, for many hands like this,
Manipulation of hand power tools, hand holding the steering wheel,
Stroking the hand of a face ...... that unborn children can hand
Born in the tunnel immediately sent
Navigation lifeboats for adventure
Through the ice, can the beautiful,
Needle-like bits of broken fragments of ancient Greek cup
Stick together, the pieces on the painted
Intoxicated woman who walked proudly steps into Sybil ③ den,
Ik Okinawa cave -
This raised his hand to the inevitable violence,
With unlimited forbear, With the boundaries of violence and areas
Understand the kind of violence, then on to completely abandoned.
Seven
What will life into words mammals?
This is about what's atonal music?
- Yes, writing words like this, I'll live.
This is not a wolf's howl and mother similar?
This howling wilderness into a cappella opera?
Or, when I'm not around you, I use words to create you,
I was not using you? Like the use of a river or a war?
How do I use to write to the river, I had to write how to use the war
To avoid writing the most awful thing -
Not someone else committed the crime, not our death,
Instead, our desire for freedom, freedom of the passion of desire
Lost! Those withered elm disease Galium aparine river, killing the innocent,
Seems merely signs of our blasphemy?
Eight
I can see myself years ago in Sa Niang,
I have a foot infection, pain, like 菲洛克提提 Adams ④
To a woman's shape, Quezhao feet, in the long trail, rock,
Lying in the dark on a rock outcrop on the sea,
The rocks overlooking the red and white silent vortex rolled forward
Notify me just pounding waves while
From that height to imagine the pull of the sea,
Careful thought of suicide is not my expertise,
However, the whole world is nourished, measure my wounds,
Well, over. That women cherish her pain
Dead. I was her offspring.
I love her to me, the scars the scars still exist,
But I would like to work with you, and from there continue to move forward,
Into a career with the temptation to fight the pain.
Nine
Your silence today is a pond and drowned in living.
I want to see those creatures were drowned and take up the dripping water droplets, was to get the sun,
I see there is not my face, but someone else's face,
Even your face, your face, another age.
Regardless of where the drowned what are you and I need two people -
An old gold watch, a water mark soaked fever record sheet
A key ...... even the bottom of the sediment and bubbles,
Also deserve to be understanding and recognition. I fear that silence,
This ineffable life. I am waiting
Gust of wind lifted the curtain of water will be gently
Even if only once, let me see, I can make points for you
What, you often for others, the nameless things
Name like it, even for me.
Ten
Your dog, quiet and naive in our
Crying, in our whispered softly in the dawn,
In our phone call, take a nap. She knows everything - she can know?
If I claim that human arrogance that I can read
Her eyes, I found that I just read the animal mind of my own:
These guys find each other, it must be comforting to the body,
Inner voice drives their bodies go,
Head heavy than they want to get to far
Trip will be complete, wandering at night, for those who desire to stroke
Another brigade of those people, getting cold;
Not gentle, we are living in hell.
Eleven
Each peak is a crater. This is the law of volcanic rocks,
Since then, the volcanic rock is always visible women.
No depth, no burning core, there is no height
Our sole tread hard shell in the form of volcanic magma.
I want to travel with you, all over every sacred mountain of a smoke-filled
, Like Sybil in the mountains Midon her three legs,
When we walk in a small way, I want enough of your hand,
Feel your arteries in the palm of my beat,
We never forget those tiny, jewel-like flowers
We do not know her name, she did not Mingzi, until we give her name,
She is slowly climbing the rocks change -
The slow around them in our rock to change the details of turning us into his own,
It exists in us before know that we will come here and see things outside us.
Twelve
Asleep. We are shifts in posture, such as planets
The grass turns sailed at midnight:
In his sleep, stroke about to be sufficient,
Enough to let us know
We are not alone in the universe as a single: the ghost of a dream of two world
Through the ghost town, almost greetings to each other.
I woke up, muttered to himself because of your
Talking about the passage of bright and dark years
Like my own voice to speak.
But we have different voices, even in a dream,
Our bodies, so much alike, but so different
Past reverberate in our blood flow
Our blood is full of different languages, different meanings -
Although we compiled the history of old
New meaning to write
We are of the same sex lovers,
We are the same generation of the two women.
Thirteen
Break the rules, like breaking the thermometer,
On the bulk system in the form of mercury into one,
We're in a country without language,
No law, from the dawn, we just
Exploration of the valley has never been
Chasing crows and the wren
No matter what we make together are pure inventions,
They gave us a map of early
After a while we drove through the desert ......
Water vapor can not know the mirage
Village to become a real illusion
The music on the radio has become increasingly clear - and
Neither soft 森卡瓦里埃, What format is not Gudeng Da
But a woman singing an ancient, but
To new words of the song, Diming bass, flute
Loud and clear, the women outside the law play the strings
Fourteen
Your pilot's field of vision
Confirmed my impression of you: You said that he
Grasp the wheel, deliberately, headlong into the waves to
We stopped at the moment are the empty street,
Egyptian children in the St. Pierre and rice Kui Lun ⑤ three hours between
The way toward a plastic bag kept vomiting.
I never felt close to you too.
In the closed cabin, honeymoon couples that
Arms around each other, lying on each other's embrace of the cabin,
I put my hand between your thighs
Comfort the two of us. Your hands in my lap,
We are this way, our bodies
Pain together, as if all the pain is
Physical pain, we touch each other, in the
In front of strangers, in ignorance, of no interest to strangers,
They vomit their private pain, as if
All the pain is physical suffering.
(This poem is no serial number, full flow)
No matter what happens we, your body
Will linger in my body - gentle, Jiao Mei's
Your sex, as if half of the volume of the piano in the forest-like leaves
The sun had just been washed. Travel thousands of miles of your legs -
Between your legs, moving my face back and forth Nu -
My tongue found the innocence and wisdom here -
My mouth latch your lively, I do not know satiation nipples -
You touch me, firmly, love, looking for
Put me out, your strong and the tongue and slender fingers
I've been waiting for you to reach the old days where waiting
My roses arrived - wet - the cave, no matter what happened, this is everything.
Fifteen
If I lie on the beach with you, that
Whitecaps rolled, empty, green water, the warm Gulf
But we can not always lay in the beach
Because the sea breeze blowing sand, we can not stay
Against us like the sea breeze
If we want to fight the sea breeze, we fail -
If we drove to another place
Sleep in each other's arms
Where the bed was small and narrow, like a prisoner to sleep
We are tired and we did not sleep together
This is what we found, this is what we do -
This is not our failure?
If I am hard to hang on I think I need a responsible
Environment, only she would say
She has no choice, finally, she is a loser.
Sixteen
Across the city, and now I'm with you,
As an August night
Bright moonlight, Harbour warm, washed after bathing, I watch you sleep,
Excessive washing, rough on the five-drawer cabinet
Our combs, books, medicine bottles are bathed in moonlight -
Or, in the white salt-like fog enveloped the orchard, I lay beside you
Through the wooden screen door, staring at the red sun_set_,
Mozart's G minor increase from the recorder, the
Also landing on the sea bed in the music.
The island of Manhattan, for you and me,
Broad enough, small enough:
Tonight I can hear your breathing, see your face
Lying on his back, half out of the light illuminates
Fullness of your lips Jiaomei
Co-sleeping in sorrow and laughter to your lips.
Seventeen
Nobody is ordained or destined to the what people love.
An incident occurs, we are not heroes,
Accidents happen in our lives, like crashes,
As the book changed the way we, as we move into the new
Neighbors like us.
Stan and Terry De Aesop's children is not a good story ⑥
At least a woman should know
The difference between death and love. Do not poisoned wine cup,
Do not repent. There must be wrapped with tape recorder
Our ghost: not only our player recorder
It should listen to us, should educate those in our
Following people: we are so, is so trying to love,
Teach them to know that those who oppose our forces
Those grown in our own hearts against our forces to
In our hearts, against us, against us, in our hearts.
Eighth
Western Highway was raining
Red light flashing in the riparian area:
I am living longer
Two people together is a miracle.
You just tell the story of your life over again, you talk about -
Vibrato broke the surface of your words.
Form at the moment as you
A Victorian poet described it
You have a strange sea brine.
These words come to my mind.
I felt a strange kind of immersion. Like, a crack of light -?
Between grief and anger, to start a space
I was there, I, Andrew Lai, a person gets too cold.
Nineteenth
When I again started to rub yourself
Is not feeling the cold more? The adhesive force between us is not to be torn up?
When the naked face shining from the background of the stars turn slowly
To the observation at the moment, the pair
Winter, the city, angry, poor, death
Eyes, lips, Well Well: I mean to live?
In a dream, or in this poem, I told you,
The world is not a miracle, I was not speak too cold?
(From the beginning I told you that I want is daily life,
The island of Manhattan is enough for me. 〕
If I let you know -
The work of two women together is a
Civilization is not so simple any work.
Two people work together is a
With a hero among ordinary ingredients
Slow, half-stopped half the way to go,
The most striking landscape has become a daily practice -
Look at those who choose this path to go to those people's faces to know.
Twenty
We are in sharp opposition to the conversation,
Around back and forth in my mind,
Night, He ⑦ Hudson River in New Jersey light shaking in the
Polluted rivers, and sometimes still mapping
Moon, and I felt faint, and I loved
A woman, is unknown by drowning, her fear, her fear of harm,
Like hair, her neck wound, and she choked. It is this woman, I am trying to
And she spoke, her scars, her expressive face
Twisted in pain, she was dragged more deeply
Drag hear my place
Soon I will know, I was talking with my own soul.
The twenty-first
Dark blue, and exotic stone, dark, fireplace beams,
Flashing colorful stone ripples ripples
Luminous midsummer rising from the horizon -
This is what I say "light the cracks"
This is what I said. This is not a "shipu"
Is not any place, but the mind
Projected onto the land of her alone,
She shared, no longer lonely,
Neither easy nor painless options
Circles, is the heavy shadow of the great light.
I decided to become an image of light
Part of the light blocked by darkness, something moving
Moving in space, the color of the stone
Regards to the moon, but also off than stone stone:
It was a woman. I decided to move here. And in this circle.
1974-1976
(Shen Rui translation)
Note:
① Cuban style chain restaurants.
② 1933 was born in the United States now living in France, American jazz singer. Her sixties and seventies songs crazy fans the United States.
③ ancient Greek legend to explain it and predict the future of the woman.
④ a character in Greek mythology. The war in Troy, he was bitten by a snake.
⑤ Canadian town near Toronto.
⑥ in the medieval romance heroes and heroines. Hero and heroine do not drink wine and destined to fall in love. Through all the hardships, and ultimately ended in tragedy.
⑦ river flowing through New York City.
- Published in the "wings" Volume IV
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