outland poetry
anthology 诗选
John Ashbery
The Lake City The Lake City, grow from the curse, Become forgetful, and while history has gas. They are the product of this concept; for example, people may be Bo's. Although this is only an example. They emerged until a tower Control the sky, immersed in the past with the clever Look like swans and the tip of the tree branch candle Burning until all the hatred of those who become incapable of love. When you stay with your own ideas There are more and more intense sense of emptiness afternoon It must be vented to the distress of others Fly like a lighthouse-like those around you Night is a sentinel So far most of your time to play the creative game But we have a comprehensive plan for you to be good Example, we want you to be careful of the desert, Or rough seas, or others close to the air as the occasion, Press your back awakened a dream, If the sea breeze caress your child's face. But "the past" have been here, you incubated their own plans. The worst is not over, but I know You will be happy here, and this situation because you What logic is not able to juggle the climate Sometimes gentle, sometimes elegant, right. You build a mountain-like building, Thought to be devoted all your time into this monument The wind is to make it tough petals of desire It erupted into tears of disappointment Changhong. Zheng Min Translation -------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------ Street musicians One dead, one alive, he Twisted soul is life and life to walk the streets hesitate Wear their own "identity" as wrapped in the coat, The same streets day after day, fuel gauge, shadow Under the tree. Than any person is summoned to the farther Increasing through the grace and manners suburbs, when the Autumn down to the Luxurious leaves, the broken cart Belongs to an unknown family, was pushed into the Yesterday and today this way. A staring Look at the other intends to do, and finally Lule Xian, So they hate each other, but also relative to forgotten. So, I shook, soothing piano only ordinary embankment, Only know that people forget the popular tunes But insisted it would be a tasteless refrain Free play. November, this year, flip the body More clearly the gap between the day, Meat on the bones more pronounced. What about the root of our problem areas Gone with the Wind as the smoke hanging like: How do we picnic in the pine forest, In the cave, there are constantly leaking water Leave our garbage, sperm, feces, Everywhere, polluting the landscape. Looks like we may have to create. Zheng Min Translation -------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------ Jolly 维坦 Just because I'm wearing a huge hat, Crowns of hair under a wooden buckle, the children cry Coming on to me, through me. At this time of season Zero-day did not give curious to provide other views of the executioner. In his room, they spoke of the rope. Them over the window. I have seen and know Bad outcome and a good stack together. Them in the future, So not very far. There's quite a steep bank, The shadow it cast in the river bed above. An adventure, an outing, they may be worth it. We could do a few pleasant trip. Then he took a bat and some clams, In the hope is that the gate is always covered with brine strong odor. Which is the same. Window frames have been removed, I mean He can be with me through, and we still see ourselves. 王伟庆 Translation -------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------ Last month Security has not changed - only A piece of gray, the sun falling in this place. Housing seems to be more heavy, Since they had to leave. In fact, it's time in the record is empty. Produce a draw once time Game receded, slowly back into the night. College is opening the future A door, determined to Let not the sun poured into the halls of fruit Chair with books and papers pile high with the beginning. Prudent man who is erratic this month, It confirmed the feature is An eternal value has changed hands. And you can have a new car, A ping-pong and a garage, but the thieves Miraculously stole everything. In his book, only a rebellious photo The garden, full of shouting and color. 王伟庆 Translation -------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------ Vetiver Slowly through the years, such as a bear hay, When the flowers sing their lines, Stir in the bottom of the pond barracuda. The touch pen is cool. Rotate the stairs, Broken through the garland, to be in the alphabet Letters of the distilled depression. Now is the winter, it's cotton candy Palaces, there are concerns the mouth Discourse, forehead and cheek stain pink, this color was called "Rose of the ashes." How many snakes and lizards shed their skin off, To make time go down the drain, Sink deep into the sand, and then winding flows Outcome. Everything was so smooth, and now, Hey, it spread out so that the hands, When a change that out, sharp Such as the throat between the hooks, and decorated with tears flowing, Through our endless flow into a basin called. Everything is free, the door Intends to open there. Do not keep pace with whatever you can get. In a room, there was in his youth, checking Found it boring and empty, feels there are many holes. Ah, let me be with you now, unless the field Embrace our joint us, unless The birds to lay down their twigs, Fishermen recover their smooth space network, While others stepped up around the huge bonfire Population, as is the case We mean that we start, eliminating the need for The leaves cry, those last little bit of silver. 王伟庆 Translation -------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------ Adult stacks "... ... Found a house sparrow, Swallow found a nest for themselves, " ("Hymns Psalms" 84) In remote mountainous areas, where we know Some sparrows do not know what, every one Housing obviously better than others, "packaging" Are now ready to begin. It came, Like a bunch of papyrus as the imagination free And identification, and then as fixed does not work. Tengen a little dark. Sent you A man ran down the stairs to inquire about The process of real events, and the answer always came Elusive but polite: you have to go ... ... Oh, lights went out. That is, in general education Like paper thin but strong side. When a thief Outside, in a dark place, it is the same. No freedom, not free free free. Only can do is pick up the book, Mosa Zhao it Then in front of my face open. That you know. 王伟庆 Translation -------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------ Frost Stuck in the wrong dream, you made a Alley, _set_ foot on the streets of a broad weak. Mirror fall from the tree. Is the time. Again for the start of this disorder and still Financing the. But rumors fed it. So far the road is always high, For some people light a lamp, while others, It is a desire and distress about the wonderful sight. At the same time, the only important Tall things break his own: It was all clear, and sometimes, For those who will vote in his view, It is vague, and more beautiful. This is Chamber, where, in the past only the king Come, and now, two or three young people can Sitting there, nervous and comfortable, talking about Bike, bone: no small thing. This is very good, but the dark Seems to come faster and more gathered at the accident Place, cut out the map a name. So you start to get nervous. In fact, need not be so. More bizarre things elsewhere. Here, in the dark, secret conservative Is dense, it is everything. There are several common Name to the things around: even they are not non-use Not. But I hope I do not have a way to make more thoughtful Will not have a patch of ground bumps Clear shadow. I'm poor? God is no longer welcome me? There is enough dark green to cover us. But we are always on the end of the silent, Not to say familiar things. 王伟庆 Translation -------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------ The image of cruel This is a high degree of problem; may be Latitude. I saw them leave the office. Seven o'clock, they cool to start the car, To the same patterns and some small tilt of the fixture strange Spend the evening. What credibility? I said, Or more likely is that you ask, can Being freed from these? Oh, yes, One boy said, you can temporarily step to Into the hall. Spell some relief to And the old screaming into the night, The night before is not here, nor is this. Its more formal, more serious side, this is only A double. Here are some of the symmetry. After, you protest: how is it so Here, can not stop sharing? Can not wait to listen to children Tilt to the inside weed? Cold rats waiting to hear Until dawn? Today, the yard has a tree of each block Every heart has a lover, only our Do not know how to take the night in tents Can the past be the past of the city. 王伟庆 Translation -------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------ There's still life stranger Come on, Ulrich, the sky a huge Octagon above are from our adoption. Soon the world will move. Your affair, what is it? But a storm in the teapot. But this storm release Strange resonance: the power of God Retracted into the infinitely small roots, Hanging, as the roar of bees, Such as birch, in the absence of the autumn wind, It leaves hanging white. Call these phenomena or trivial, The ruins of the distant heavenly flash, But the great terrible frame was still there Full of remorse, full of straw, Or at another level, full of snow The beautiful singing in the evanescent. Are you good at persuading them to Sing with you. The top of your horse to graze, oblivious Daylight inside the barn. Ivy hanging on the rock surface. A white pointed roof. Now, all the characters are fictional drama, The front of the shadow of the past, waiting. 王伟庆 Translation -------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------ In another time Actually is because you stopped But does not need to do so, The woods are not too dark, but you Was stopped, and then move forward that The idea seems to deliberately want to stop embarrassing. By then, everything here, All involved in the night: Theatre patrons on the car in front of There, the light increased, and then condensed into Little silver, then listening. A whitewash, rustic poetry Consistent with that description, but not Is so completely. There's nothing fast, But things done quickly. My childhood cartoon era Into a bundle of printed matter; see, ah, What is this thing printed above? Who knew it would be? At this point it is panting, as if a fish hanging on the line. No doubt, the portrait than you want Still flashy, but all Inside the main aspects: There, you bend beneath the waterfall, Read as if the moss in the Small sign, so everything is revived, But more quietly. No way to put it on record. 王伟庆 Translation
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