outland poetry
anthology
诗选
Wallace Stevens
Russia's a peach
I enjoy the whole body of these peaches,
I touch them, smell them. Who speaks?
I absorb the peach, like Anjieniefu
Absorption Unruh. I looked like a peach like a lover
Young lovers looking at the spring as the buds,
The Spaniards played the guitar like it dark.
Who speaks? I am sure,
The beast, that the Russian people, the exile,
Church bell sounded for us
In mind. Hongnen peaches
Round and large, there is a layer of hair,
Filled with honey, peach skin soft,
Peaches filled with the color of my village, filled
Fine weather, summer, dew, the color of peace.
Quiet room where peaches.
Windows open. Sun
Speckled curtain. Even light to the curtains fluttering,
Also disturbed me. I do not know
This cruel would a self-
Off on another self, like off the peaches.
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Fragments of the life and soul
Warm, intimate little things.
As if we never made children.
We sat in the house, in the moonlight,
As if never was young, it is true.
We should not wake up. Dream
A woman will get up bright red,
Jinhui standing in purple, combing hair.
She thought to say his party lines.
She thinks that we do not sing.
In addition, the sky so blue, things on their own
For her singing. She listens
Felt her color is a meditation,
Most happy, but still happy as before.
Here, telling the familiar things.
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Thirteen ways looking blackbird
1
Twenty between mountains covered with snow
Only moving
Is a blackbird's eye.
2
I had three heart
Like a tree
Parked three blackbird.
3
Blackbird hovering in the autumn wind,
It is a pantomime in the humble role.
4
A man and a woman
Is.
A man and a woman and a blackbird
Is.
5
I do not know which is more like,
Singing in the U.S.
Or implied in the United States,
Tweet when the blackbird
Or call and after.
6
Small icicles on the windows of the long
Painting full of wild patterns.
Blackbird's shadow
Shuttle between them.
Mood
Found in the shadow
Reasons can not crack.
7
Thin hadan man
Why do you only imagine golden birds?
Can not you see blackbird
How a woman's feet around around you
Walking?
8
I know the noble tone
And clear, destined to the rhythm;
But I also know
Blackbird and I know
Related.
9
Blackbird in the vision disappeared,
A circle for many
Marked the border.
10
See blackbird
In the green light to fly
Phonological harmony of the people most reluctant to
Would scream.
11
He rode a glass carriage,
Across Connecticut.
Once, he suddenly felt a fear,
He mistook the shadow of luggage
As a blackbird.
12
Rivers in the mobile
Blackbird must be flying.
13
All night, all afternoon.
Has been in the snow.
And will be snow.
Blackbird sat
On the cedar branches.
Began with a translation
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Snowman
Must use the winter state of mind
To watch the frost and snow cover
Pine branches;
Must be frozen too long
Juniper to see covered with ice,
January sunshine and distant
Rough spruce, can not because the wind
And this land
Leaves the sound, think of
Any tragic fate,
The same wind in the same
Desolate place, but also for the listener
The blow, he listened in the snow,
Completely not himself, and saw
Everything, and nothing in all existence.
Began with a translation
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There is absolutely
The end of the palm tree heart,
Finally, the idea is far off, _set_
_Set_ in the bronze.
A golden bird feathers
Singing in the palm trees, no meaning,
No one's feeling, an alien song.
So you know not the reason
Makes us happy or unhappy.
Birds sing. Its feathers shine.
Palm standing in the edge of space.
Wind in the branches and leaves move slowly.
Flame-like birds have feathers, shake down.
Lo Chi Translation
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Black's rule
At night, in the fire,
Trees of various colors,
Leaves of various colors,
Repeated.
Rolled in the room,
Like the leaves themselves
Rolled in the wind
Yes ah: the dense hemlock wood color
Striding.
I think the peacock's cry.
Peacock tail feathers of various colors
Like this leaves
Rolled in the wind,
In the evening the wind.
Color sweeps the room,
Just as the peacock on from the hemlock
Fly down the ground.
I heard them cry - the peacocks
That cry is a protest against the twilight sky,
Leaves his or protest
Rolled in the wind?
Rolled, as if the flame
Rolled in the combustion,
Rolled, like the peacock tail feathers
The flames rolled in a noisy,
Loudly, as if in hemlock
Full of peacock's cry.
Or call the city in protest against the hemlock yourself?
Looking out of window
I saw the planet gather,
Like leaves
Rolled in the wind.
I see the night comes
Strode like a thick hemlock color
I am afraid,
I remembered the cry of the peacock.
(Zhao Yiheng translation)
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Sunday morning
A
Contend in dressed in dressing gowns, sunny chair
Delay in moving the coffee and mandarin orange,
A comfortable carpet green parrot,
Mix together all these pleasure, broken up
Sacred serene martyrdom of Jesus.
She dreams like the rain a little action, and feel
Approaching the shadow of that old catastrophe,
Like waves in the silent shadows.
Pungent green mandarin orange and shining wings
As if caught in the ranks of the dead things
Climb over the vast waters of the winding, dark and quiet in silence.
Daylight, such as the vast surface of the water, utterly still,
So that the feet of her dream
Across the ocean, to the silent Palestine,
That the boundaries of blood and graves.
II
Why she went so far as gifts to the dead?
If the divine only in the shadow of silence
And appeared in a dream, you call that divine?
Why she could not comfort from the sun in
From the pungent green mandarin orange and bright wing,
From mellow and beautiful world in the other.
Find precious things, such as thinking of heaven?
Divinity but to retain in her mind:
Desire rain, snow state of mind;
Alone in grief, when the blossoms in full bloom
Intolerable joy; and wet autumn night on the road
Marching out of the bursts of passion;
Mindful of the summer's green leaves and broken branches winter
Worth of joy and pain as they recite from the waves.
The scale is the measure of her soul.
C
Highest in the clouds of Jupiter not mortal.
No breast-feeding mother to give him, no sweet land of
Note his soul into the worth of magic style.
He walked among us, like a whisper of the emperor,
Awesome walk in the middle of a group of red deer,
Until we chaste blood, and the kingdom of heaven
Integration, the desire to give this reward,
The group of red deer that reward, from a heart.
Our blood will shed it? Perhaps it will be
The blood of paradise? This land
Will become a paradise we imagine?
Then the heavens will be more friendly than it is now,
Labor and pain, the higher status and the
Second only to last forever love
So now instead of a zoning and cold blue.
IV
She said: "I'm satisfied, when the birds wake up
Before the flight, with the wonderful sounds of the inquiry
Misty fog test whether the field is;
But when the birds away, the warm fields
Are gone, then. Where to park? "
No predictions here, often to the land,
No longer haunt the cemetery of the old monster,
No more gold to the government. No
Man song Xiandao, elves have come together
In the southern no dream, in that distant mountains
Not a shade cover, such as palm, palm it
Have fallen, like leaves off a season in April;
Leaves may also Fan Qing, like her memories of the birds
And her longing for June and evening,
Yan-wing from the wonderful gestures of shaking.
V
She said: "However. I still have to meet the
Felt the need for some kind of immortal blessings. "
Death is the mother of beauty; only there from her
Our dreams and aspirations was to become successful.
Although her in our path,
Forgotten movie cast leaves,
Unfortunately, this awkward way with a couple of road
Victory over it sounded like the voice of brass, or
Sentimental love, the whispers had issued!
She let Panicum frightened frightened quiver in the sun
For those accustomed to sit and stare at the grass
All girl stood up again.
She makes the boys in the forgotten
Plate, filled with plums and pears of new mining.
Girls taste, the joy ride leaves to go walking.
Six
Paradise Is not death evolution?
Ripe fruit does not fall? Heavy branches
Much heavy water suspended in a perfect sky?
In fact, exactly like our earthly life and death,
Where the rivers are also looking for marine,
Can not be found, where there are low tide
Beach, but you will never feel the unspeakable pain?
Why is placed in the river on both sides of the pear,
Or the fragrant plum cut in half the bank?
Ah, they should put us in the afternoon silks,
Put our gorgeous color,
We struck the chord of monotony!
Death is the mother of beauty, mystery of the mother,
In the arms of her hot, we let
His earthly mother sleepless waiting.
Seven
A fanatical crowd in the morning summer
Dionysian ceremony in the memorial circle
Warm and sincere praise to the sun,
Do not treat it as a God, just as "if God"
Exposed in between them, such as the original source of life
The crowd singing carols, sacred music like heaven,
From the heart, and reverted to the clouds;
One after another song, celebrating the
Owners love for their lakes, the wind,
There are charming angel woods.
And the song echoed in the valley hills.
They can understand how that is destined for a death
Sacred of human feelings, like a short summer morning,
Where do they come to, where to go,
The dew on the foot will make plain.
Eight
She heard the dead in the water on that
A voice shouted: "Palestinian graves
Not a soul wandering the porch,
It is the tomb of Jesus, his resting place. "
We live in chaos, the situation unpredictable,
Interdependence with the day and night cycle,
Helpless in the desolate island by the sea
Siege, we have no constraints and no escape.
Deer in our forests leisurely stroll
Quail around us trained, trained, Gao Ming,
The sweet wild strawberries ripe;
The open sky at dusk Guling
Occasionally passing teams of pigeons,
When the draw subtle undulating waves,
His wings, slowly sink into the vast darkness.
(Translated by Li Li)
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Jar anecdotal
I put the jar in Tennessee
It is round, _set_ on a hilltop.
It makes the wilderness scattered
Is this the hill for the center.
Wilderness all coming to the jar,
Fell down and around, not wilderness.
Round jar, on the ground
Towering stands, extraordinary style.
It is commanding all directions,
This is no pattern of gray jar
It does not breed birds or trees,
And Tennessee, everything is different.
(White fly translation)
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People who play the blue guitar (excerpts)
1
The man leaned over, adjust the
Guitar strings. Yu Qing day.
They said: "You hold the blue guitar;
To play things is not real. "
The man laughed; "blue guitar
The face of things had changed. "
They said: "You play the tunes
Must not only higher than us is our own,
Blue tunes on the guitar
Must be things really are. "
2
I play not complete world,
Although I ran out of power.
Me singing hero's head, huge eyes
Bronze face, but not a person,
Although I try to pop the whole man.
When he was almost proud of playing to this point.
If the Serenade
And people - as important, then
Serenade can be said to be
Playing the blue guitar.
3
Ah, please play the works of the first number,
Stirred the hearts of the dagger,
The brain into the board,
Pick acrid colors,
Nailed to the door on the ideological,
Soaring to rain, snow,
Release of live tone,
Beating, beating, turn it into real,
Knock-out blue notes,
Percussion metal strings ... ...
4
That is life: the real thing?
It is moving in the blue guitar.
There are a million people a string?
All the acts are,
All behavior, regardless of fault pairs,
All of the conduct, whether strong or weak?
Call of crazy emotions.
Sounds like the autumn wind flies,
So this is life; the real thing
The blue guitar.
5
Do not we talk about great poetry,
Ground shaking about the torch,
Spot on the dome of the structure.
Our sun no shadow,
Day is the desire to sleep the night dawn.
Where there is no shadow.
We bear the earth flat, naked. '
Nearly any shadow. Poetry
Beyond music, must be replaced
Empty heaven and carols,
Have our own place in the poem,
Even if you cut the sound of guitar noises.
... ...
26
Immersion in the world trained to imagine,
The world is the coast, regardless of sound, form
Or light, bid farewell to the monuments,
Echo from the song, rock,
He always reverted to the imagination,
Then the air like a line of notes Chiru,
Among the clouds, dust accumulation, a giant
Fight with the ferocious letters:
_Set_ of ideas elk, moose dream _set_
Dream of distant utopia.
Hill's music seems to be
Gone with the Wind Pro constantly, constantly die.
27
Seawater washed white roof.
Sea drifting in the air in the winter.
Created the North sea.
Fun fall of snow in the sea.
This gloomy darkness of the sea.
Geographer and philosopher,
Clear attention. If not for that cup of salt,
Not because of icicles on the roof -
But the sea is in the form of mockery.
A mock iceberg
Can not be his own demons,
It is wandering, change the scenery changes.
(Simon Water Qin translated)
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Modern Poetry
This poem written in the search for ideas in action
Satisfying things. They do not always need to
To find; _set_s have _set_ the stage, it repeats
Something already in the script.
Then the theater turned into
Anything else. Its past is a memory
It must be alive, learning the local language.
It must face the men of this age to meet
This era of women. It must think about the war,
Find something satisfactory. It must be re-
Take a stage. It must stand on the stage
Like a insatiable actor, slowly,
Meditation, the chant put words in the ear
Keen ear of thought, accurately
Repeat what it wants to hear, a group of invisible
Audience, are listening to the voice,
Not listening to the show, but listen to their own
The emotions of two people to the performance of
Combination of two emotions as a whole. Actor
Is the dark metaphysicians, toggle
Musical instruments, struck a metal string,
Suddenly the sound right through the whole
Inclusive of thought, not less than thought,
Have no desire to go beyond thinking.
It must
A satisfying thing, it can be
Man skating, dancing woman.
Or the hair of the woman, thought the action of the poem.
(Simon Water Qin translated)
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Metaphor of the Declaration
Twenty people walked the bridge,
Into the village.
That was the person who passed twenty bridges,
Into the twenty villages.
Or a person
Through a bridge into a village.
This is an old song
It does not give vent to its own meaning ... ...
Twenty people walked the bridge,
Into the village.
It is
Twenty people through a bridge
Into a village.
The village do not want to reveal their
But certainly have their own meaning ... ...
_Set_ foot on people's boots
The edge of the bridge,
White walls of the village's first
Rising from the tree leaves.
I'm thinking?
The meaning has escaped from itself.
The village's first white walls ... ...
That fruit trees ... ...
(Translated by Meng Meng)
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Words caused people
The myth of no emotion, the human dream
The death of poetry, we will be?
Castrated hazy moon - live
Formed by the scheme of life, dream
Is a desert
Careful planning we were there, was the dream torn
The spell was terrible failure of the tear
Fantasy is the same as one of failure and fear of the tear.
Owner is the same poet
Account of the fate of the paranoid plans.
(Translated by Meng Meng)
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Inner lover's final monologue
The first line of the night lit the light in the room
We rest for insignificant reasons, wondered
Imagine the world is the last of the good.
Therefore, it is the most heated tryst
Only in this ideology that we can focus on your mood
Remove all cold, focused on one thing:
The only thing in this, only a scarf,
Tightly wrapped us, since we are poor, a trace of warmth
A ray of light, a little power, has the miraculous effect of
Now we forget each other, but also forget their own,
Only a vague sense of order, a whole
Kind of knowledge, arranged the rendezvous.
In its dynamic edge, in the heart
We see God and imagination blend ... ...
Candle lit up the night it is so hard to climb.
This same line of light, that same heart,
We are dwelling in the night air,
There can be together is to satisfy.
(Translated by Meng Meng)
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A special case of the process
Today the leaves cry, hanging on the branches when they are hit by the wind,
However, the nothingness of winter and start a little bit reduced.
These are everywhere and the product under the shadow of the cold snow.
Leaves a person screaming ... ... just stay next to listen.
This is a busy cry, like other people related.
First, although one said that a part of things,
Where there is conflict, where there will be resistance;
And as a part of is to try to decline:
A person feel all this life is to give life.
Leaves cry. This is not the cry of the gods tender care,
Hong Hong is not leather heroes boast, nor is the human cry.
This is never above the cry of their own leaves,
Fantasia does not play, does not make sense than
They can do more ears only heard the last, the only thing
Itself, until finally, this cry has nothing to do with anyone.
Lo Chi Translation
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A life of its own in the sleeping child
You know those old people were
A name is not thinking about the
All the important thought of the remnants.
Nothing they can only be incorporated into
Individual's mental world. Him from the outside
Observe them and understand them from within,
The king ruled alone those
Distant things, but what is close enough to
Wake up in bed on the night of your heart.
Lo Chi Translation
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Two letters
Even if there has long been a crescent
Every cloud in the heavens,
The night with the moonlight glistening wet,
Some people also want more and more
Can return to the real heart,
A relative's home and self, a dark,
A moment of life can enjoy relaxing.
Like lit a candle,
Like lying on the table, his eyes,
Listen to the most eager to listen to the story
As if we once again sat in one,
We have one person talking and all the people believe
We hear the candle, though small, is enough.
Lo Chi Translation
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The reality is that most imaginative an activity
Last Friday night last Friday in dazzling light
We burn the midnight oil from Cornwall to Hartford home.
This is not a glass workshop in Vienna the night shift furnace
Nor is it to collect the rest of Venice in the time and dust.
This is a tough journey on the accumulation of power,
Star in the west to the night sky in front of
Active in the glory of a splendid carved,
Surface of things and then move and then be dissolved
Either in the distance, change, or do nothing.
Summer night transformation is obvious:
A white abstract taking shape
Then suddenly put himself to veto.
There will be a non-solid solid surge.
Lake moonlight night neither water nor air.
Lo Chi Translation
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Oak forest of the single card game
Annihilation in the cards Zhang
A person present in the pure natural law.
Is neither a card nor a forest instead of air
The fact that retention can be like. This is a flies,
Fled principle, fled meditation.
What one ultimately understand the thinking
Then _set_ aside to think about consciousness,
In the oak forest, completely release.
Lo Chi Translation
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Local object
He knows he is a place to inhabit the soul
Therefore, according to this understanding, the local object becomes
Home than the most precious objects but also valuable:
Object belongs to a local place to inhabit the world,
Down not remember the past, only now the past,
Or in the hope of the middle finger is now looking at the future of the present;
Object not as something taken for granted as
Light in the heavens or the dark side
Only very little in that this celestial object.
There is very little for him, and these little things
Will always run into a new name, as if
That he wanted to create them so they stay away from Simie,
These little things for people to realize these objects, these feelings
The integration of body, these things take the initiative right at your fingertips,
Because of his desire is not to know what it is
What has become of the importance that classical beauty.
These are always calm, he has been close
When he went to a home than is absolutely romantic.
Lo Chi Translation
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There is no clear memories of a day
No soldiers were buried in scenic areas,
Mindful of not thinking of dead people
Fifty years ago, as they also:
Young and live in a fresh air,
Young and walking in the sun,
Dressed in blue clothes and bent down to touch something -
Today's state of mind is not a part of the weather.
Today's air has become clear to all things.
It does not have the knowledge, but only emptiness
It has no sense of our diffuse,
Who does not like the past, we've been here
Have never appeared at the moment: in this plain sight in
This invisible movement, the feeling.
Lo Chi Translation
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July Mountain
We live in a constellation,
The dark night sky, but bright,
Not a single world,
Not on the piano in the lecture,
Beautiful music can say things
As in poetry on the page -
Thinkers are never at the beginning of a universe
No final conclusion.
Forward along the road, when we climb mountains,
Vermont themselves overnight.
Lo Chi Translation
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A mythology reflects its territory
A mythology reflects its territory. Here,
Connecticut, we never live in a
The era of myth to reality - but if we had -
This may present a problem of image authenticity.
Images must have the vitality of its creator.
Its vitality is the growth of its creators
And enhanced. New look at youthful again, it was him,
From his territory in those substances,
In his forest trees and dig the land from his
Or extraction from his mountains and rocks, it is him.
Lo Chi Translation
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An old man sleeping
Two of the world fell asleep at the moment, is sleeping.
A solemn silence in a sense dominates in them.
Self and the land - your thoughts, your feelings,
Your beliefs and doubt your whole block exclusive;
Reddish chestnut on your red color,
The movement of rivers, R * the lazy river movement.
* R River, the river R, that is, "Wan River River" (the river of rivers), see the "million Connecticut River River."
Lo Chi Translation
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Cliffs of Moher in Ireland *
Who is my father, in this world, in this room,
In the bottom of the soul?
My father's father, and his father's father, and his -
Like a piece of the shadow of the wind
Return to a parent, before the thought, in speech before
In the past the front.
They came to Cliffs of Moher, in the fog outside
In the real above
Unearthed in the current time and place, higher than the
Moisture, and grass.
This is not landscape, full of poetry
Dream **
And the sea. This is my father, perhaps,
His presence
A similar objects, one of you fathers: land,
Sea and air.
* Moher, Moher, Irish place names, along the coast 8 km of sea cliffs 200 meters high spots.
** Dream, somnabulations, originally referred to the dream. Stevens poem generally the dream, fantasy, etc. as derogatory.
Lo Chi Translation
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Simple understanding of things
After the leaves fall out, we return to
An understanding of simple things. As if
We have reached the end of an imagination,
Quietly engaged in an inert knowledge *.
Even hard to pick an adjective
Modification of this empty cold, this sadness without cause.
Construction of the great house has become a minor.
V turban, who does not walk in those who have been relegated will be on the floor.
Hanabusa has never been so eager to paint urgently.
Five-year-old chimney, and has been tilted to the side.
A fantastic effort failed, and the flies
Repeatedly in the first iteration.
However, the lack of imagination has been
Brought it to their own imagination. Large pond,
Simple understanding of the pond, there is no reflection, leaves,
Mud, water, expressed as a sort of a dirty glass
Silence, a look at the kind of quiet mouse probe,
Large lily pond and its ruins, all of which
Had to avoid as a non-knowledge to imagination,
As a necessary requirement to requirement.
* Knowledge, savoir, French.
Lo Chi Translation
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A poem replaces the position of a high mountain
This is a poem, word for word,
Replaces the position of a high mountain.
It is his oxygen breathing,
The book even the dust on his desk stand thump.
It reminded him of how he had urgent need
A direction as he arrived at his place
Restructuring of how seriously he had a pine forest,
Replacement of the clouds of rock and pick his way,
Just to see the natural scenery,
Where he will achieve an unexplained completion:
In his exact inaccurate rock
Will find in the end, there is the edge of the eye can only observe things
He can lie down there, staring down the sea,
Recognition of his unique home alone.
Lo Chi Translation
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Hope to see birds fly over fields
Minor who is more annoying in the philosophy of
Mr. Humboldt's journey from his back *
** The edge of the Concord something home, his main idea is:
To let go those grassland, trees, clouds,
Do not convert them into other things,
This is just the sun each day's work
Until we say to yourself there may be
A brood of nature, a mechanical
Manipulate objects and a bit nasty ***, unlike
Person's soul, though somewhat similar but larger
Without his literature is not his god ... ...
But we may go beyond his own life in the air,
Not prepared for us in a living environment,
Is enough to say that it is prepared to do our own, 太夸张了吧,
Thing is not as metaphor or belief down arrangements,
It is not our habit of fabricating the myth that a positive,
But a transparent body, in which swallows the shuttle,
No physical or any form of flu.
****, We know is that we see is that we feel
We heard, and we where, beyond the mystic tone,
Fusion piece of ***** that noise, in heaven, the
As we think, a moment like the wind,
A movement in part of a movement, a discovery
Found in a part of a change in a changing part of
The surge is also the color part of it.
This afternoon is clearly a source of
Too wide, too much color, will be more than calm,
Too close in thinking to be less than thought
The most obscure of the parents, the most obscure of the leader,
One from the daily contemplation of the Supreme,
Unique in its silence and then come away.
We think, according to whether or not the sun shine.
We are thinking about passing a pond as a field of wind
Or are we blinded by our words because the mantle
That same wind, flying and flying, the sounds
As the winter at the end of the last paragraph pianissimo.
A new alternative to an old scholar pondered
This is a fragment of the first Fantasia. He sought
One can understand people who say.
The soul from this world body,
Perhaps Mr. Humboldt thought is: that world from which the body
The law of inertia and created a kind of artificial ******, mind
******* Style nature to capture a piece of glass
Then it became a soul style,
A glass full of things, how far they can go to far.
* Turban, who, turban, originally referred to the Arab head scarves, the poem refers to the Islamic or other religious clergy, religious.
** Mr. Humboldt, Mr. Homburg, names, source unknown.
*** Concord, Concord, place names, many of the same name the city, within the meaning of the poem is unknown. Literally a "harmonious and consistent" means the poem to emphasize is this.
**** See "what we think we have seen that."
***** Fusions, integrations, which is a concept commonly used in the late Stevens, a large saw and heard all kinds of knowledge and a sense of meaning such as integration (or integrated, aggregate, integrate, integration, integration) as a harmonious overall, from the objective to the subjective perception of the ultimate things are thought through some kind of ritual or meditation (meditation) to achieve unity and harmony of the advanced form. Stevens and medium-term "organ" concept (harmonium, the harmonious combination of beautiful body) compared to the "fusion" higher, bigger, is the integration of an The organ is a whole organ. See "Local Objects."
****** Contrived, affectation, "artificial mind" in general refers to the concept of Stevens thought (think). The other, "affectation" word forms and "affection" (effect) is similar.
******* Style, mannerism, especially where artificial style, habit.
Lo Chi Translation
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Meditation in the world
Violin exercise is a waste of time, with the journey. And training for
Composer is essential - like meditation - I have never
Stopped ... ... I dream of tightening a constant, regardless of day and night
Never stop. *
- George Sie Nei Siku **
The man who came from the east is not Ulysses,
That interminable adventurer? Trees will be improved.
Winter is washed clean. That people are moving
On the horizon, and supports the weight of his own.
Reflect the shape of a fire on a large cloth *** Penelope,
It is wild and full of attitude inhabit the world of her wake.
Over the years, she has _set_tled a **** good self to greet him,
In her imagination, and his self for her companions,
And the deep shelter of the two, friends and dear friend.
Trees have been improved, as an essential training
In an inhuman meditation, is more important than her own.
Night, the wind will not watch her like a dog.
She does not want that he can not bring anything to her.
She does not want charming. His arm is her necklace
And her belt, is their greatest desire for wealth.
But that is Ulysses it? Or is that the sun
According to her pillow? The thoughts inside her as her heart beat.
They also rush the name of the two. This is the day *****。
It was Ulysses, it is not. But they met,
Friends and dear friends and the instigation of the planet.
This brutal force will never weakened in her body.
Hair when she would tell herself,
Repeated with the determination of the syllables of his name,
Never forget that every moment will come near him.
* Citation for the French, the source is unknown.
** George Sie Nei Siku, Georges Enesco, Romanian musician, violinist ,1881 -1955.
*** Penelope, Penelope, Ulysses (Odysseus) and his wife.
**** _Set_tled, composed, a composition, preparation, comfort, calm and other means.
***** This is the day, it was only day.
Lo Chi Translation
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A quiet normal life
When he sat down when he thought he was not in the position of
His vision of everything being so fragile,
This lack of light, so shaded and empty
For example, as one of the world, like snow,
He became a resident of compliance with
Cold regions of the grand concept.
Right here. This is what happened years
Place and time. Here, in his house in his room,
In his chair, thinking of getting the most calm haggard
The oldest most fiery heart was punctured
Grand ideas in the dark areas under the -
All alone at night, in the chorus of crickets on
Babbling, and one by one, singing one of their own independence.
No violent form of excellence.
But his real skill blooming candles.
Lo Chi Translation
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Valentine's whistle inner monologue
Light up the evening's first dynasty, walked into a room
Let us rest by this small premise, inference
Imagine that the world is the ultimate good.
It can be seen, this is one of the most emotional of the appointment.
It is by this idea that we can concentrate on
Put aside all the apathy, into one thing:
The only thing in this, by a unique shawl
Tightly wrapped us, we are humble, and a trace of warm,
A ray of light, a strong, have brought miraculous effect.
At this point, here, we forget each other and themselves.
We feel a certain vague, it comes from an order, a whole
A cognitive, vibrant in its territory, in the mind,
It is they arranged the date.
We say God and the imagination are one ... ...
Supreme noble ah, the highest candle lights the darkness.
In the same dynasty, the intellectual hub in addition to
The air in the evening we build a home,
Can stay there to meet together.
Lo Chi Translation
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* The poem as a sign
The rocks covered with leaves is not enough.
We must treat it with the elixir of land
Or use our own cure, which is equivalent to the land
The cure, a treatment beyond the forgetful.
However, these leaves, if they are emerging,
If they smoke the flowers, if they are covered with fruit,
And if we are fresh from their impurity
Eating paint those born to the land can be a panacea.
* This is the cycle, "rock" an excerpt from Chapter II.
Lo Chi Translation
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Planet on the table
Ai Lier * very glad that he had written his poems.
They have a memorable time
Or he would be happy to see things.
The other to create the sun
Is a waste and garbage
And the tangle of bushes.
His self and the sun is one
His poems, though his self-creation,
But no less than the creation of the sun.
It does not matter whether they are retained.
What matters is that they should be heritage
A face or personality,
And a rich and hopefully a little exposure,
Poor in their vocabulary,
Them as part of its poverty of the planet.
* Ai Lier, Ariel, Shakespeare's "The Tempest" in the naughty elves.
Lo Chi Translation
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Connecticut River Creek million
There is a huge river Styx * of this side
In a black person to reach the first waterfall
And the lack of the spirit of the trees before the forest **.
The river, in the distant Stygian this side,
Even the flow of water is also a joy,
Sparkling in the sun shining. In it on both sides,
No shadow of the walk. The river is the fate,
Like the latter. But here no one ferry.
He can not conquer it roll forward power.
In the appearance of it, under it never tells
Man can see. Farmington steeple ***
Stand up in the waves and Khaddam **** shining glowing.
It is light and air side by side with a third of public property,
An academic, a vitality, a local abstract ... ...
Call it, once again, a river, a nameless stream,
Be space filled, reflecting the seasons, each perception
Folklore; call it, over and over again,
This river flows to Ukraine and some, like a sea.
* Styx, Stygia, not the standard formulation, source unknown.
** Spirit of the lack of trees, woods, trees that lack the intelligence of trees, means "Divine Comedy" in the description of the "black forest."
*** Farmington, Farmington, place names, a small town southwest of Hartford, in the Stevens neighborhood.
**** Khaddam, Haddam, place names, see "observed one of the ten three methods of Blackbird."
Lo Chi Translation
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The idea is not about things but the thing itself
In the winter just ended,
March, the house sounded dry in the * Timing
Is like a voice from his heart.
He believed he heard the voice,
A bird of the crow, at dawn or earlier,
In early March wind.
Six o'clock the sun rose,
Is no longer the snow down a crumpled hat ... ...
It should have been outside the house shine.
This is not the sound does not come from marginal ventriloquism **
This is not pulp bleaching in the model lie in the *** ... ...
The sun shone outside.
Dryness of the crow that crash - it is
A choir, it's C pitch over the choir.
**** It is a huge part of the sun,
Is surrounded by the ranks of the choir,
Even broader. It's like
On a new understanding of reality.
* Dryness, scrawny, skinny intended. The other, "scrawny" word forms and "scream", "screak" (screaming, ear-piercing) are similar, the poem is intended is unknown.
** Ventriloquism, ventriloquism, the poem may refer to snore, or echo.
*** Pulp models, papier-mache, French, the poem may refer to fantasy castles in the air.
**** Huge, colossal, majestic, sublime, awesome, the kind of huge. The poem is relatively "ventriloquism" and "not marginal" (vast) concerned.
Lo Chi Translation
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Bide Kun on harpsichord
Ⅰ
As my fingers on the keyboard
Play the music, which with one voice
Also play the music of my soul.
Music is feeling, not sound;
I have so it is the sense here
In this room, want to think about you.
Think of your blue shadow silk dress
Music. Just like the hearts of the elderly
Wake-up tunes by Susanna;
Green evening, clear and warm,
She bathed in a quiet garden, and eyes
Blood-red of the elderly are peep, feel that they
Charm Life bass chords in the witch
Throbbing, thin blood
Pulse "Hosanna" plucked song.
Ⅱ
Green water, clear and warm,
Susanna repose.
She searches
Touch of spring,
Found
Hidden imagination.
She sighed,
The music for so many.
On top of the embankment, she stood
In the emotional exhaustion
Being cool.
In the leaves, she felt
Old's desire is to
Water dew.
Her walk on the grass,
Still Vibrato.
Wind is her maid,
With shy footsteps
Give her a flickering
Knit scarf.
Breathe a trace of the hands
Dumb silent this night.
She turned around -
Cymbals sound fragmentation,
Paoxiao of the speaker.
Ⅲ
Immediately, the drum sound in a small tambourine in
Byzantine her entourage appear.
They were amazed at Susanna
Exclaimed against the side of the elderly.
When they whisper, repeated phrases
Such as willow brushed the rain.
Then, they hold high the lights
According to see Susanna, and her humiliation.
Then, the Byzantine fake a smile
Dispersed in small tambourine sound of the drum.
Ⅳ
Beauty is in the moment of the mind -
Significant exports of intermittent soul tracks,
But in the flesh, it is immortal.
Physical death; still retained the beauty of the body.
Evening also died in the passing away in their green,
Trace of waves, flowing endlessly.
Garden also killed, their olfactory sense of gentle breath
Sengyi winter, in the confession in the end.
Girls are dead, whereabouts chorus girl
Rosy celebration.
Susanna's music touched the white elderly
Lustful hearts; but she fled,
The irony of death have only scratch.
Now, in its immortality, the
The clearest memory of her six-string violin
Continuously playing a tribute to the sacraments.
Translation of square mesh
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Qiweisite the concept of order
Her singing talent beyond the sea.
The formation of the sea had never thought or voice,
Like the flesh of the flesh entirely, waving
Empty sleeves; but it mimics the movement of
Create sustained cry, continued to issue
That is not our understanding of our able
Veritable sea of inhuman scream.
The sea is not a mask. She no longer is.
That is not singing with acoustic reverberation chowder,
But even if she s singing her of what they hear.
As she sings the word for word by word but by singing,
In all her words in the sentence would have been a stirred
RCC water and breathing the sea breeze; but we
Not heard of the sea, but her singing.
Because she is making this song the Lord.
This timeless covers, gestures desolate sea
Just a song she and the line and where.
Whose Spirit? Road, we are so made as
We know that we explore the essence of the soul, Yi Zhi
This will be singing, we continue to ask.
If that is just rising sea of black
Voice, or even add a wave of color;
If it is heaven and the clouds just outside of the voice,
Or belong to the sea wall around the coral reefs,
In any case clear, and it was only a matter of air,
Air agitation of the words, the voice of a summer
In the end of the summer without a repeated
And the only sound. But much more than that,
Even more than her voice, our voice,
Meaningless in the water and wind throw in
In striking distance, in the high
Sea level on the accumulation of bronze shadow
Between the mountain and the sea and the sky's the atmosphere.
Her voice, before passing in the evening
Let the sky become extremely sharp.
She measured it at the moment toward solitude.
This song in the meantime the world, she is the
The only builder. Her singing, which both
What kind of self had then into the sea
The song of the self, but it made for her Lord.
When you see her striding alone in the sea, we
Then realized, she never had the world at
In addition to her singing and song to create one.
Raymond. Fernandes, told me that if
Do you know why, when we turn voice termination
Town, when dusk had fallen the night air, tilt,
Why are the lights of fishing boats moored sea,
This glass-like lights dominating the night, and
Sea placed under the aloof, on the basis
Illuminated area and the Pillar of Fire,
Placement with and deepen the, charm the night.
Oh, the sacred order of passion! Pale Ramon,
This passion for the Lord made the order of the words towards the sea,
Sweet dim stars in the entrance of the rhetoric,
This Geku about ourselves and the sound
Our origins, the more the community is the specter of the threshold.
Translation of square mesh
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