Howl
To - Karl - Solomon
I
I saw the most outstanding minds of this generation destroyed by madness, next to the hungry and hysterical naked, dragging themselves through the dawn
Streets looking for the black points of a blasted,
Manchester holy angel eager Xibo machines that starry night, the generator of communication between the beauty of simplicity,
Their deep poverty, the sleepy eyes and shabby apartment in the cold darkness of that beyond the natural floating through the city over Xizhe Yan
Chapter jazz meditation through the night,
Under the elevated railroad tracks that they bare the truth of God, the angels found in Muhammad's house lights on the roof Yaoyao Yu
Fall,
Cold shiny with open access to their university group of academics in the study of war in the case of Arkansas, and Black Magic revealed tragedy
They were expelled from school because of crazy because in the skeleton-like window obscene odes published,
They cover the shorts huddled in a room without shaving, the burning of paper money in the trash in the wall to listen to the voice of terror,
They returned to New York with a bundle of marijuana across the Laredo was caught naked with pubic hair,
They applied face powder in the hotel swallow fire or to "park Youjing" drink pine oil, or dead, or night after night degrades their
Body,
With dreams, with drugs, with waking nightmares, alcohol and cock and numerous testes,
Trembling unmatched to the dead end and the clouds build in the minds of lightning impulse to Canada and Peite Sen, light died between these two extremes
Quiet time world
Morgan, general credibility of the hall, the dawn of the backyard cemetery trees on the roof, drunkenness, passing through town on a drive addicted to tea
When the general store that dazzling neon lights, the sun and the moon and the evening in Brooklyn roar shaking the trees, trash
The roar and the light of the most moderate of thinking,
They chained themselves to the amphetamines in the subway from the Battery to the Bronx base for no end until the wheels and travel
They wake up the sound of a child, broken and trembling lips, in the light of the zoo miserable brilliant brain haggard wore off
And sad,
They all night immersed in the sea Bickford cafeteria lighting, floated out and sat in the bar and drink a sparse of Fu Jiaji
Ma niu afternoon beer, listen to the fate of the hydrogen jukebox Zhi Ya sound,
They talk to seventy hours a row from the park to the bed to the bar to Bellevue Hospital to the museum to the Brooklyn Bridge,
Platonic group lost at home to talk about the fire escape moonlight jumped jumped jumped off the Empire State Building window,
Ramble and screamed with vomiting whispering facts and recall, and anecdotes and the glare off the confrontation and hospitals
Grams and the cells and the war
Generation of people to grow luminous eyes sunk deep in the memories of seven days and nights, worship halls brick lamb thrown into the road,
They disappear on non-existent town of Zen New Jersey leaving a picture of the postcard ambiguity, the above cited the Atlanta City Hall
Scenery,
Newark furnished in a dark room to endure the pain after the drug go away, the East of hard labor, Tangier milling and bones
China, migraine,
They hovered in the middle of the night go a railway marshalling yard where I do not know, before the trip, still not put off the sorrow,
They lit cigarettes in the cargo compartment noise with the ancestor of the night through the snow Chi Wang lonely farm
They studied the so Aspen Lu, Yi Lun between Singapore and the spirit of St. John in the Jewish sense of the mysterious knowledge of jazz by
The foot of the universe is in Kansas instinctively tremor,
They alone walk through the streets looking for love in the Idaho Indian fantasy angels because they are fanciful Indian
Angel,
They just feel great joy because the ecstasy of Baltimore in the supernatural looming,
They got into with a car in Oklahoma feel the Chinese town of winter rain stimulus lights,
They were hungry wandered lonely looking for sex in Houston looking for jazz looking for soup, they followed the Spaniards who distinguished
He discussed with the United States and the eternal, but the ambition hopeless, they Yuandu Africa
They disappeared in a pair of volcanic Without a care in Mexico, leaving only the shadow of the coarse frock of Chicago will be scattered over the fireplace melting of poetry
Rock and ash,
They come and go in the west coast of the FBI to trace a beard and dressed in shorts, their skin dark anti-war advocates who Chende
Very sexy eyes opened wide dissemination of their incomprehensible leaflets,
Their arms full of cigarette hole burned to protest capitalism's tobacco regulation intoxicated haze,
Distribution of their ultra-communist Union Square, brochures, crying, strip and 洛塞勒摩斯 siren was swept down to them,
Swept down the wall, Staddon Island ferry also cry together,
They burst into tears in an empty gym naked, shivering in another frame of the machine before
They bite the neck detective in the police car was shrieking with excitement because of the crimes but had their own wild
Sodomy and drug abuse,
They fell to his knees in the subway, howling, trembling, waving the manuscript was dragged lower genital roof
They advance to the divine hand of his motorcycle rear, also issued a happy cry,
They swallow lick themselves to others by those human seraphim and aquatic stroked, it is love from the Atlantic Ocean and the Caribbean
Stroke,
They made love in the morning in the evening at the Rose Garden at the park and the cemetery grass, and their joyous to be thrown into any liquid which can be
Climax of the people,
Their bathroom wall in Turkey after the hiccups kept trying to squeeze the last princess giggle but only choked sobs, and blond
Blue-eyed angel naked sword piercing pounced to come to them,
They lost their lovers all because of that the fate of three old hamster, a dollar is a one-eyed out of heterosexual
The other went ahead uterine blink artisans weaving the wisdom of cutting the money
They are fanatical and greedy intercourse hand a bottle of beer, a pack of cigarettes a candle lover out of bed and rolling, and the floor
And in the living room to continue until the last in the eyes of the vulva and emerge out of the final wall collapsed in the last moment of consciousness dissipated
Orgasm
They make a million girls trembling in the sun_set_ to enjoy the sweet moments, sweet bloodshot eyes in the morning but still
Ready to enjoy the sunrise of joy and fleeting barn and lake nude ass,
They hang around in Colorado all night in a stolen car places rape prostitutes, Nepal - cards, the protagonist of these verses,
A rooster and the Denver Tony - his pleasant memories, he throws the girl numerous bases and buildings in the open after the dining car
Department
Rickety chair in the cinema, at the top of the hole, or in a familiar Youjing haggard waitress lifted the skirt of Health
, Especially in gas stations, home alley in the toilet there is a subjective theory,
They gradually disappeared in the huge dirty movie theater, in the dreams are turned away, suddenly woke up in Manhattan,
Cold stone wine and dream of the Third Avenue terrorist dispersed them in the cellar of a hangover, subsequently a fall into the unemployed
Relief by the door,
Penetration of the blood in their shoes to walk in the snow all night waiting for piece of the East River docks opened the door leading to a reservoir full of steam
The room heat and opium,
They climbed on the roof of the Hudson River shore cliffs apartments mercury in the war years as the blue moonlight staged bitter tragedy of suicide
They will play in the nether world crown head to crown,
They eat mutton or imagined burning dirty canals in the package at the bottom of Warri digested crab,
They hold the onion and inferior music filled the cart facing the street Romances cry
They sat in desperate sucked into the darkness under the bridge, then climb your loft building grand piano,
They wore a crown fire in the Ha Leimu the sixth floor of cough, tuberculosis, the sky was orange grove theology siege
They remembered all night Scribble rock for the dastardly spell profound morning left a piece of paper gibberish nonsense
They cooked perishable Borscht in lung and heart foot tail corn bread abstract plant kingdom dreams,
They got into a meat trucks looking for an egg,
They dropped from the roof to watch the time count as they cast a vote outside of the eternal, from ten years after the alarm sounds daily
No peace
They succeeded in three unsuccessful cut wrists, hands forced to quit skiing to open antique stores them in the store secretly sad old self
Qi,
Madison Avenue dressed in their innocent flannel suits much suffering, witnessed the low-level poetry carnival and popular Tiehan
They dream life of laughter and screaming ads fairies and insidious nitroglycerin and wise editors of mustard gas, also
Absolute reality taxi knocked to the ground,
They jumped off the Brooklyn Bridge this actually happening and then quietly walked away and fled to the fine mist of water dragons forgotten alleys in Chinatown
In the spirit of trance, or even attend a free glass of beer,
They sing in despair on the windowsill, turn the subway window, jumped into the dirty Pasek River, toward blacks, along wail
In the dance barefoot on broken glass, and broke the German nostalgia thirties jazz album in Europe drank whiskey moan
The spit into the bloody toilet, whispered lament the deafening siren suddenly sounded,
They are maneuvering along the road past the broken car to each other martyrs in prison-like solitude of waiting or Birmingham jazz
Body,
They drove for several seventy-two hours non-stop across the field to see if you are a beauty I found him, they were looking for eternal
,
They travel to Denver, who died in Denver, Denver, waited in vain for their return, they keep looking at the Denver and lonely contemplation
In Denver, the last to leave to find time, and now Denver has lost their hero because of the loneliness,
A hope of the church they knelt relief for each other and pray for the light and breasts, but only temporarily soul inspiration,
They are restless in prison waiting for the blonde villain, waiting for them to sing in front pelicans and the sweet blues
Real heart charm
They reclusive self-cultivation in Mexico, or to convert the Rockies Yuanshe Buddha or Tangiers to find old friends or go to the South Pacific search
To find the black locomotive or Harvard to find the first or to Wu Delong Narcissus looking daisy or grave,
They demanded a fair trial, accusing the radio narcotic, and their chaotic limbo state of mind, their hands and
Unresolved jury,
They threw potato salad driven Dada in New York City speech, and then his foot on the asylum-class performance light granite
Funny speech, head and suicide requesting immediate implementation of lobe resection,
And they were subjected to anti-spasm tonic electrical stimulation of insulin therapy occupational therapy spa letter is void of these, table tennis and amnesia,
Their angry protests overturned a symbolic only ping-pong tables, let us give up because of stress,
A comeback after years of only a bare wig blood, tears and fingers, back to this crazy city of eastern,
Crazy people in this ward can not escape the bad luck,
Pilgrim Hall Rockland State Greystone hall lobby smelled rancid, they quarreled with each other with the echo of the soul,
Loneliness - benches - stone, rock and roll at midnight in the kingdom of love, life, everything is just as nightmares, physical change as a heavy stone
Moon,
Finally, with the mother - and finally a bible out of the window, the door closed in the last four Pro morning, and finally a telephone
Rejection answer the last one on the wall a decorated room cleaning an empty, leaving only twisted wire hook in the clo_set_ on the yellow paper roses that
Finally, a spirit of furniture, and even which is purely imaginary, and the room kept empty line of vision of hope -
Ah, Carl, I do not when you do not secure stable, and you can really sleepy now into the era of chowder soup -
So they dream of running through the cold streets of a sudden flash of light alchemy, for them to find omitted, alignment, rhythm
Usage and tremor of the plane figure it out,
Juxtaposition of the images they use to achieve the dream of living in the gully to lie in the space, caught between the two visual images with the Spirit
Soul of the archangel, who join the basic verbs, nouns and awareness of the dash will be combined in one place, jumping in the Universal Father John
Constant feeling of God, the
To transform the syntax and rhythm of human poverty, they stood silent in front of you, wisdom, humiliated shivering, but denied that
Their minds, they bare the deep thinking mind to adapt to the beat,
Crimping prodigal son and the angel crazy idea struck, little known, but they still may want to leave, then the next life after death,
Stand up in fancy dress jazz reborn in the shadow of the horn in the band and play out in the United States seeking bare the soul
The suffering of love, blow the saxophone in order to facilitate the major Nigerian 利拉马拉马 Saba cry of the city, which sadly broken
Radio City until the last one,
Cut out from their own body of poetry out of the absolute heart of this life enough to eat a thousand years.
II
What is the cement and aluminum bashed knocked their skulls and ate up their brains and imagination?
Moloch! Alone! Filth! Ugly! Trash and unobtainable dollars! Children screaming under the stairways! Boys in
Army sob! Old men weeping in the parks!
Moloch! Moloch! Nightmare of Moloch! Moloch the loveless! Mental Moloch! Vulcan punish human judge!
Moloch the incomprehensible prison! Moloch the crossbone soulless prison liberalization of sorrows join in! Moloch
The tower is a trial! Moloch the vast stone of war! Moloch the stunned governments!
Moloch whose mind is pure machinery! Moloch whose blood is running money! Moloch whose fingers are ten armies!
Moloch whose breast is a cannibal dynamo! Moloch whose ear is a smoking tomb!
Moloch whose eyes are one thousand blind windows! Moloch whose skyscrapers along the street stands the Lord, like endless! Fire
God plants his sleep in the mist, shouting in the fog! Moloch whose smokestacks and antennae crown the cities!
Moloch whose love is endless oil and stone! Moloch whose soul is electricity and banks! Moloch whose poverty is the ghost of genius
Spirit! Moloch whose fate is a cloud of sexless hydrogen! Moloch whose name is will!
Moloch in whom I sit lonely! Vulcan I have a dream in which an angel! Crazy in Moloch! Cocksucker in Moloch! The fire
Lost love and men of God!
Moloch who entered my soul early! Moloch in whom I am a consciousness without a body! Moloch who frightened me the pleasure of nature
! Moloch whom I abandon! Wake up in Moloch! Light streaming out of the sky!
Moloch! Moloch! Robot apartments! Invisible suburbs! Skeleton treasuries! Blind capitals! Demonic industries! Spectral nations!
Hopelessly insane asylum! Granite penis! Monstrous bombs!
They broke their backs lifting Moloch to Heaven! Pavements, trees, radios, tons! Lifting the city to everywhere in the paradise
!
Dream! Thing of evil! Phantom! Miracle! Ecstasy! Gone down the American river!
Dream! Worship! Bright! Religion! A whole boatload of sensitive bullshit!
Breakthroughs! Over the river! Flips and crucifixions! Down the flood! Heights! Show! Despair! Ten animals
Screams and suicides! Mind! New loves! Mad generation! Down on the rocks!
Holy laughter in the river! For all to see! The wild eyes! The holy yells! They bade farewell! They
Jumped off the roof! To solitude! Waving! Carrying flowers! Down to the river! Into the street!
III
Karl - Solomon! I am with you in Rockland
There you more crazy than me
I am with you in Rockland
There you will fidget
I am with you in Rockland
Where you imitate the shadow of my mother
I am with you in Rockland
There you murdered your twelve Secretary
I am with you in Rockland
Where you laugh at the humor that no notice
I am with you in Rockland
There is a great writer, we beat the same poor typewriter
I am with you in Rockland
There you have your radio deteriorating condition notice
I am with you in Rockland
Where the brain no longer tolerate the feeling of the moth bodies
I am with you in Rockland
There you have to drink it You Tika old maid tea on breast
I am with you in Rockland
Where you pun on the body of nurses, they are teasing the Bronx woman island
I am with you in Rockland
There you bundle called upon in the mad chaos in the fear of clothing is to lose the Bureau of the abyss of the real Table Tennis
I am with you in Rockland
You beat it in there, suffering from catatonic piano the soul is immortal is never innocent to die of it armed with the absurd
Madhouse
I am with you in Rockland
Fifty times and there and then not be able to shock you far into the void in the soul of the Cross pilgrimage back to the body
I am with you in Rockland
There you unconscious and doctors accused fascist state to plan the skeleton of a Hebraic style socialism that you
Revolution
I am with you in Rockland
Long Island, where you will split the sky from that super-human that you dug up the tomb of Christ on earth live
I am with you in Rockland
Where a total of twenty-five thousand mad comrades singing "The Internationale" final stanza
I am with you in Rockland
Where we lay under sheets that hug and kiss the United States would not let us sleep all night coughing and the United States
I am with you in Rockland
There we were awakened from their lethargy in the roar of the soul of the roof struck by the aircraft to drop their feeder angel here
Bomb that lit up the hospital's walls have collapsed own imagination ah sparks flying safety starry surprise that eternal war dead
War has come
Ah victory forget your underwear now we are free
I am with you in Rockland
In my dream you wept sea travel across the United States drops of water on the main street in tears the night at my shower in the West
Walking in the door of the huts
San Francisco 1955-1956
"Howl" Footnote
Divine! Divine! Divine! Divine! Divine! Divine! Divine! Divine! Divine! Divine! Divine! Divine! Sacred
! Divine! Divine!
Sacred in this world! Soul divine! Skin divine! Nose divine! Tongue, penis, hands and buttocks divine!
All that is sacred! All divine! Throughout the divine! Everyone in eternity! Daily do in eternity! Everyone is an angel!
Prodigal Son and the Holy Seraphim general! Madman and the general sanctity of my soul!
Typewriter sound sacred sacred sacred poetry audience sacred ecstasy divine!
Peter Solomon, Holy God, Holy God Shengluxian Sheng Ailun holy God 圣克鲁亚克 Shengkasadi Hank God God God Shengboluosi
It was torn and suffering saint of beggars holy angels who ugly world!
Holy my mother in a lunatic asylum! Kansas grandfathers penis divine!
That moaning saxophone divine! Divine revelation that jazz! Sacred jazz jazz lovers of peace and marijuana heroin and
Drums!
Sacred solitude of skyscrapers and brick road! Holy tide of the cafeteria person! Holy River Street under mysterious tears!
Big black sacred God alone! Holy Lamb huge middle class! Divine Shepherd that crazy rebel! Who discovered the Los Angeles
Los Angeles who is!
Holy God 圣圣弗兰西斯科 New York and Seattle holy God 圣皮奥利亚 Paris, Moscow, Holy God, Holy Shengdanjier Iraq
Istanbul!
Holy time in eternity holy eternity in time holy holy four-dimensional space, the alarm clock the fifth International holy holy god of fire in
Angel!
Holy the sea holy the desert holy railway locomotives Holy Holy Holy Dream miracle divine illusion eyeball holy the abyss of divine!
Divine Mercy! Grace! Mercy! Faith! Divine! Us! Body! Pain! Tolerance!
Immense supernatural divine wisdom that the soul of kindness!
Boke Lei, 1955
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In Ebolinai grave
There will always be one day ... ...
People will know the future
Died without this knowledge
1
Appeared in the U.S. presidential summit in France to participate in national day
I visited Lachaise Cemetery paid respects to the remains of Ebolinai
Even Orly airport in the blue bar, clean cage in the spring
Paris Sky
Eisenhower from his fly over the United States cemeteries
In the French over Lachaise Cemetery
Concentration such as cannabis smoke rising fog of illusion
I slowly walk through 彼得沃洛夫 Sharansky Lachaise Cemetery,
Know each day has died
Consequently, we are like mini-cities in the light of eternity holding hands
Highway and street identification of rocks and hills and in front of the house each household names
Looking for that missing void in the well-known address of the French
Prehistoric pillar to his hopeless little respect to our offense
The United States will be my short-lived "Howl" on his silent
"Kari Graham" on
Him with the poet's X-ray eyes reading these verses
Reading for his miracles on his own death in the Seine lyrics
I hope a wild young monk will put his book to God my grave
Cold winter night in heaven read my poems
Our hands already disappeared from that place with my hands in a Paris
Hut says
William ah your brain full of courage and what is death what
I'm still searching through the cemetery can not find your grave
You said in your poem that singular purpose is the head bandage
Oh, the stench of the skull solemn everything you say is naught
And this is simply a lot of money is the answer
Driving a car can not enter the tomb and the six-inch blocks of this universe is
Large enough to hold all of the mausoleum
This universe is a cemetery where I walk alone
Fifty years ago Abolinai Nostalgia in the same street
His madness is coming to join us and heat the theft of books
The West is once again in the wisdom of the war and who will correct all suicide
吉约姆吉约姆 How I envy you your reputation of American culture
Contribution
Muqu your death surrounded by long covered with cow dung on madness
Come out from the tomb of the door to talk through my thoughts now
Images to create a long list of new blue ocean in Moscow taxi haiku
Black statue of the Buddha
The survival of your previous record on the phonograph pray for me
Sad with that linger deep sweet voice and music content sadness praise to God
The same as the rustle of World War I
I have to swallow your ears from the cemetery and the Van Gogh and the A Tuode the madman in the sent magic carrot root
I will put the French poetry of the black cape walk
The streets of New York
Spot chanting the snow we're Cemetery Bali La Dialogue
But also the future of poetry, as they are inspired by the blood flow into your
Tomb of the sun
2
In Paris, where, I am your guest, a friendly shadow Oh
Max Jacob's hand was not present
In his youth, Picasso as I was afraid to barrel Mediterranean
I attended the old red Rousseau I ate his dinner portable piano
In Baduo La V W grand gathering was held not in the
Algeria appear in textbooks
Bois explains Mandelbrot's Tzara
Alchemy gun
He was crying into my Swedish
Blue and purple tie and black pants dressed
Sweet purple beard from his face, like birth
Moss hanging in the anarchist
He kept nagging and bickering 安德列布鲁 East
And one day he was helping this man cleared his golden beard comb
Old Bulaizisong Della asked me into his tired to study
About the long endless Siberian
Yake Wa thank you I visited his terrible gun collection
Cork is the poor more than the great Hardy was sad about confused
His last thought makes me dizzy
Hugo wrote a letter of introduction to the Death
And Kidd has praised the invention of telephone and other great
They generally agreed but he said that peppermint underwear endlessly
In any case he drank deeply grass Whitman also
All the wounded get the name of Colorado's heartbreak
U.S. cluster bombs and baseball princes from holding
Ah Ji Yuemu world war seems so easy to fall into so easily
You know, the great political classicist who was prepared to invade Montparnasse
Guizhi not a prophet of their forehead covered with green
There is no trace of their pillow after the war there is no green Guizhi -
Mayakovsky to him in the vomit
3
Turn around and stare at you sitting in your rough pillars of the tomb
If a piece of thin marble statue of the penis is not completed
A cross fade into the color of the rock resting on the stone Two Poems
First, the "inverted heart"
The other is, "You ready to meet me as I had predicted a genius 吉约姆阿波里奈 德柯斯托威 Nowitzki it? "
Bottle filled with some jam on the grave there is a daisy
5 or 10 U.S. cents surreal characters enamel roses members
Studded with flowers and a happy little heart upside down grave
Covered with thick moss on a tree, I sat under the curved trunk
Summer foliage umbrella coverage on top of the pillar of the empty here
This owl's hoot how dangerous Ji Yuemu you How have you been?
His neighborhood is a tree
Accumulation in the ground where the cross bones under the head may be yellow
There are those printed in my pocket, "alcohol" Poetry
His voice in the museum
Now middle-aged in the gravel on the road footsteps
The name of a man staring to really tall
Around the building with crematoria
The same sky clouds rolled in during the war as
In the days of the Mediterranean Sea on the river
Apollo in love occasionally drink alcohol opium
He inhaled the light
When he came out we felt the shock of Saint-Germain
Jacob and Picasso cough in the dark
Open the skull of a bandage remained outstretched on the bed
Mysterious and self-bloated fingers have gone
The spire of the church on the street ringing the bell made of chestnut trees on the bird mass
Bule Meng family lying near the tomb of Christ hanging in their spacious and very sexy chest
I smoke cigarettes in the knees of my poems in the pages filled with smoke and flames
Ant climbed my corduroy sleeve I am on the tree above
Growing slowly
Grass and tree branches growing up through the graves to join spider web of silver light in the triumphant marble
I'm sitting here, buried under a tree guarding the graves of their own
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Back in the real
St. Joseph's in the yard behind the real
I wandered lonely
In front of a tank farm
Then get on the bench
Cottage near the pull-Astoria.
A bloom in the hay
On the road asphalt
- Is a terrible hay flower
I think - it was raw
Crisp black branches there
An Huang Sui to be
Corolla narrow, as Jesus
Wang Mian, middle filthy
Family of dry cotton
Like a shaving brush with the old
Lying in the pile of throw groceries
Has been a full year.
Yellow, yellow flowers
The flower industry,
Stiff spiny ugly flowers,
However, it took
That the appearance of bright yellow
Like the huge rose in your mind!
This is the flower of the world.
San Jose, 1954
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To Lindsay
Cutting Mitchell, the stars flashed
Mist covers the road in Colorado
A car slowly climb over the plains
Shouted in the dim light jazz radio
That sad lit another cigarette salesman
In another city that was 27 years ago
I see your shadows on the wall
You wear suspenders, sitting on the bed
Hands up in the shadow of a pistol aimed at your head
Your shadow fell to the ground
Paris 1958
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Li Song of the dawn of my
I've wasted five years time
In Manhattan
Life Decay
Run out of talent
Incoherent speech
Patient and neurotic
Lying on the table
Slide rule and calculator
The three signed
Brochures and tax
Futie prompts
Meager wages
My twenties youth
In the market up for grabs
Syncope in the office
Crying on a typewriter
Mass deception
Great rebellion brewing
Deodorant warships
Not relent in the case is serious
Any who every Saturday
I can guzzle blood bank
This is a part of me
Crime can not be considered
Depressed to labor five years
From twenty-two to twenty-year-old
Not a dime in the bank
Worth seeing
Only the sun dawn
Smoke ring that comes out to visit the East bedroom
I am doomed to hell any
Alarm clock ringing noise
Translated by Huang Liaoyuan
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Death and Honor
When I die,
I do not care how my body was disposed of,
The ashes into the sky, threw part of the East River,
The urns buried in the Jewish cemetery in New Jersey Yilishabo Black.
However, I hope a grand funeral held
In St. Patrick's church, St. Mark Church, and the largest synagogue in Manhattan,
First, present my family, my brother, nephew, nephew, 96-year-old stepmother Aidi Si energy is still abundant,
There Hengni aunt came from Newark
Joey also doctors, cousin Judy, Gege You gold, he a deaf, blind eye.
Wife 布隆德康尼, there are five nephews, step-mother's brothers and sisters and their grandchildren,
My partner Peter O'Toole Pavlovsky, Butler and Hull people Rosenthal, Bier Mo Kim
Then, the master of my soul King master Tsongkhapa, Ge Leke Living Buddha, Master Yong Selcom
Lama's emergency mourning a letter, he happened to visit the United States, as well as South Swami Tam Sa Qi
Shiva South, 德霍拉哈瓦 Baba Kama Ba XVI, and Suzuki Rosh down the magician katagivi
Phantom
Baker, Warren, wearing a multi-channel, the Lions have been old, gray-haired and round Toru Fred Luo Luoxi Lama
Course, the most important ones are half a century since I had all the love people
Dozens, hundreds, and perhaps more, those old guys head is bald, but his head is thick hair
Not long ago, still in bed naked young man met so many people meet each other really very surprised, eloquent,
Cordial and unrestrained, unlimited brought back memories
"He taught me meditation, it does not, I now behind closed doors, but a thousand days of meditation veteran who ... ..."
"I love to play a musical instrument in the subway platform, I love him very bluntly that he loves me."
"We were lying covered with chat, read my poetry, hug and kiss."
"I always wear underwear on his bed, next morning, threw all my underwear on the floor."
"All night we would talk about Kerouac and Cassedy, do not sleep sitting in his big bed like a Buddha."
"He seems to need more love, really ashamed not make him happy."
"I've never alone naked in bed with whom he is so cute my belly thrilled when his fingers on my nipples
On touch ... ... "
"I did not want to just lie down and let his eyes closed, lips and fingers Yanshen let him slide into my chest arbitrary.
"
See, that is so intertwined with a number of chat love in 1948, the ghosts of 尼尔卡塞迪
Skin in 1997 with the passion of the young,
Then comes the surprise - "You did the same thing, but I think your pretty normal,"
"I'd be Allen Ginsberg is an exception, he always reasons to make me happy,"
"I do not remember whether I be considered a true as gay, despite the strange or ridiculous, and I
Only feel his soft passionate kiss my head to stay still ... ...
In my forehead, neck, chest and solar nerve, belly department, with his tongue licking me from behind. "
"I like him to read, can be behind me, I always hear Time's light rail vehicles with wings held fast to the time of expression,
Head against head, binocular phase, as, leaning against the pillow ... ... "
Large number of partners in the late limp limp is a handsome young lad children,
"Seventeen years old, I took his poetry classes, always love to find some reason ran up his residence without an elevator apartment building
Not in the mood to tease me, let me go, then I went home and she never seen him, nor had that thought ... ... ...
"He was always powerless, but he likes me, ... 'a lovely old man ...' He always makes me excited about the first impulse."
Attended the public memorial service and rhetoric than the most unexpected of these memories ... ...
Mourners also poets and musicians - the band students - a veteran rock star
The Beatles, and more guitar players to always afternoon, gay, classical music conductor, obscure pop jazz
Music
Composer, who exudes the smell of the trumpeter, playing bass trumpet and the French black elite, folk singers,
Violinist, with the start drums, harmonica, mandolin, auto harp, whistle and pocket-sized toy flute music in the issued,
Of course, there will be artists, the Italian romantic realist, the sixties have been to India to study the mysterious
Fauvism late painter - poet, classical works drawn by the state of Massachu_set_ts as well as from the surreal to send European urchin
Wife children. Came from the poor in remote parts of sorrow stricken oil painting drawing watercolor painter powder.
Finally, there is high school teachers, by nature a lonely Irish librarians, sophisticated and elegant collection home
Participated in the liberation movement of the masses, no, more than just the people, is simply a force, difficult to distinguish the sex ladies
"I saw him ten times, but he had not been able to remember my name, anyway, I like him, he was a true
Artists. "
"During menopause, my lack of energy, humor save his poetry in the hospital I did not commit suicide."
"He is so charismatic, talented and polite, in the guest bedroom of my week in Budapest, but also in person at the sink
In cleaning utensils. "
Ah, the scene there will be many readers, "" Howl "changed my city in Virginia, Illinois, Liberty life."
"I was the first in the Montclair State Teachers College to listen to him recite the poem, from also determined to become a poet -"
"He made me suddenly realize that I work in a garage when the Rolling Stones began to keen on music, singing me in Kansas City
Writing songs. "
"" Card, the first thread "that I myself and the father in Nevada City, cry."
"My sister died in Boston in 1982, is" the death of his father, "This poem gives me comfort."
"I read in a news magazine, his articles, suddenly understood the situation of some people like me."
Even a poet, singer, although a number of deaf and dumb can they sing with gestures instead of poetic language.
Also came to the journalists, editorial secretary, manager, photography fans, rock critics, educated labor,
Cultural historians to participate in the funeral as a historical witness
There are super-poetry fans, self-righteous poets, the older the year of the "Beat" elements and people who have a free ride,
Interested in collecting autographed manuscript of the people, by all means the freedom to chart fame photographer
Afford to watch the impressive intelligence of people standing there
Everyone has to understand that they have become "history" part, in addition to those who are mourning,
But this is all I really know nothing happened, even though I still live in this human world.
February 22, 1997
(Translated by Wen Chu An)
Translation Postscript: Allen. Hopkins afraid format (A11en
Ginsberg) on April 5, 1997 in New York suffering from liver cancer in his Manhattan apartment Thirteenth street
Died at the age of seventy. That has been suffering from an incurable disease, his unusual calm, but is said to have wept from time to time; from diagnosis
After they have been trapped in bed, died a few days ago, gave the surviving friends to call, write several poems, "Death and glory
Reputation "is one of the first, the
Weekday humor, wit, ridicule remains the same, you can almost hear his hearty laughter, see him smile slightly lowers
, Dying the night before, a number of relatives and friends have been waiting at the side. His memory of his father Louis Ginsberg (also a poet
) In the poem "Father Death Blues" nail in the front door. Ginsburg was buried in the town of Elizabeth, New Jersey, a
Judah Cemetery (his father's tomb
Places also here). Ginsburg 1998, I went to New York residence, and pay tribute to Elizabeth the cemetery, with deep feelings
. Value of the second anniversary of the poet's death, especially in this poem in his memory.
-------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------
United States
United States, I've everything to you, now I have nothing.
United States, two dollars seven, 17 January 1956
I can not stand my own mind.
United States, will we end the human war?
To your mother, your atom bomb
I do not feel, Do not mess with me
I am not the normal mind can not write poetry,
United States, when did you be angelic?
When did you take off your clothes?
When do you see yourself through the grave?
When will you be worthy of your million Trotskyites?
United States, why are your libraries full of tears?
United States, when will you send your eggs to India?
I'm sick of your insane demands
When I go into the supermarket
With my good looks to buy my necessities?
Ultimately, the United States, is that you and I who are perfect not the next
Your machinery is too much. I can not accept
You make me want to be a saint
What the total of the other way to resolve this dispute
Bo Rui in Tan Zeer. I think he will not come back
This is the dark, are you dark, or is this a specific joke?
I want to say to the point
I refuse to give up my stubborn read
The United States do not force me, I know what to do
United States, the plum blossom fell
I do not read the newspapers a few months, every day people were tried for murder
United States, I have sentimental feelings towards China Bolai Si
United States, when I was a child I was the Communist Party
I do not regret it.
I have the opportunity to smoke marijuana
I sit in the house for several days. Qiaokan Rose clo_set_
When I go to Chinatown when I get drunk. But do not sleep.
I believe that dumping occurs Ma
I read Marx and you should see
My doctors believe I have all the normal psychological
I refuse to pray
I have a mysterious illusion and the universe shock
The United States. I have not told you, Maggs uncle
Came back from Russia, how do you treat him
I'm talking to you.
Time magazine you want to control your love life now
I was in control of Time magazine
I read it every week
Every time I walked quietly around the corner candy shop
Time magazine's cover always staring at me
Burke dishes I read it in the basement of public libraries
It always told me that responsibility. Sale who is serious
Films are serious, everyone, except me, is serious.
It makes me think I was an American
I muttered to myself out.
Asia's rise against me,
I do not have a Chinese person that opportunity.
I'd better take into account the resources of their own nation
My national resources, including both marijuana hall, millions of
Reproductive organs, a private work is not published, it
Dissemination of fourteen hundred per hour, step,
And twenty-five thousand neurology hospital
I have not mentioned my prison and millions of people affected by discrimination
They live in a pot on my five hundred illuminated by the sun,
I abolished the French brothel, the next one is, but Zell
I volunteer to be president, although I am a Catholic
United States, the mood in you fool How could I write a holy prayer song
Henry Ford I will continue my verse is a characteristic
Just as his car, worse, they have different gender
I sold the United States end your verse, a 2,500 yuan, will you
Sale of old verse 500,
U.S. release of Tom, Munich
Loyalty to the United States to rescue the Spanish party
Fan participation with the United States for the sand can not die,
I Sige Si County American children
United States, when I was seven, my mother took me to Communist Party
Chamber meeting, they sell us soybeans
A ticket a soybean
A nickel a point
White lecture listening, all angelic
With deep feeling for all the workers
All in good faith as more than
You do not know how good the party in 1835
Of Gedenilin is a great good for the elderly
A reasonable person in charge of real
Brewer mother let me cry
I have a clear Israeli A Mute
Just about everyone that is a spy
United States, you do not really want to fight
United States, the Russians blame the bad
Those Russians, those Russians, and Chinese
We live in Russia must swallow, Russia is a power mad,
Her car to our guns away from the garage
Chicago, she stole, she needs a red
Reader's Digest
She wants our auto plants in Siberia
Her big bureaucratic rule our stations
This is not good, oh, she let the Indians learn to read
She needs big black, oh, she let us all every
Days, six hours of work, life-saving ah
United States, this is a serious matter
United States, this is when I do get the impression TV
U.S. corporations, these are true?
I'd better deal with this matter immediately,
I do not want to join the army, or in precision parts factories open
Lathe, I myopia, and mental illness
United States, I put my shoulder against the wheel weird.
(Zheng Min translation)
To - Karl - Solomon
I
I saw the most outstanding minds of this generation destroyed by madness, next to the hungry and hysterical naked, dragging themselves through the dawn
Streets looking for the black points of a blasted,
Manchester holy angel eager Xibo machines that starry night, the generator of communication between the beauty of simplicity,
Their deep poverty, the sleepy eyes and shabby apartment in the cold darkness of that beyond the natural floating through the city over Xizhe Yan
Chapter jazz meditation through the night,
Under the elevated railroad tracks that they bare the truth of God, the angels found in Muhammad's house lights on the roof Yaoyao Yu
Fall,
Cold shiny with open access to their university group of academics in the study of war in the case of Arkansas, and Black Magic revealed tragedy
They were expelled from school because of crazy because in the skeleton-like window obscene odes published,
They cover the shorts huddled in a room without shaving, the burning of paper money in the trash in the wall to listen to the voice of terror,
They returned to New York with a bundle of marijuana across the Laredo was caught naked with pubic hair,
They applied face powder in the hotel swallow fire or to "park Youjing" drink pine oil, or dead, or night after night degrades their
Body,
With dreams, with drugs, with waking nightmares, alcohol and cock and numerous testes,
Trembling unmatched to the dead end and the clouds build in the minds of lightning impulse to Canada and Peite Sen, light died between these two extremes
Quiet time world
Morgan, general credibility of the hall, the dawn of the backyard cemetery trees on the roof, drunkenness, passing through town on a drive addicted to tea
When the general store that dazzling neon lights, the sun and the moon and the evening in Brooklyn roar shaking the trees, trash
The roar and the light of the most moderate of thinking,
They chained themselves to the amphetamines in the subway from the Battery to the Bronx base for no end until the wheels and travel
They wake up the sound of a child, broken and trembling lips, in the light of the zoo miserable brilliant brain haggard wore off
And sad,
They all night immersed in the sea Bickford cafeteria lighting, floated out and sat in the bar and drink a sparse of Fu Jiaji
Ma niu afternoon beer, listen to the fate of the hydrogen jukebox Zhi Ya sound,
They talk to seventy hours a row from the park to the bed to the bar to Bellevue Hospital to the museum to the Brooklyn Bridge,
Platonic group lost at home to talk about the fire escape moonlight jumped jumped jumped off the Empire State Building window,
Ramble and screamed with vomiting whispering facts and recall, and anecdotes and the glare off the confrontation and hospitals
Grams and the cells and the war
Generation of people to grow luminous eyes sunk deep in the memories of seven days and nights, worship halls brick lamb thrown into the road,
They disappear on non-existent town of Zen New Jersey leaving a picture of the postcard ambiguity, the above cited the Atlanta City Hall
Scenery,
Newark furnished in a dark room to endure the pain after the drug go away, the East of hard labor, Tangier milling and bones
China, migraine,
They hovered in the middle of the night go a railway marshalling yard where I do not know, before the trip, still not put off the sorrow,
They lit cigarettes in the cargo compartment noise with the ancestor of the night through the snow Chi Wang lonely farm
They studied the so Aspen Lu, Yi Lun between Singapore and the spirit of St. John in the Jewish sense of the mysterious knowledge of jazz by
The foot of the universe is in Kansas instinctively tremor,
They alone walk through the streets looking for love in the Idaho Indian fantasy angels because they are fanciful Indian
Angel,
They just feel great joy because the ecstasy of Baltimore in the supernatural looming,
They got into with a car in Oklahoma feel the Chinese town of winter rain stimulus lights,
They were hungry wandered lonely looking for sex in Houston looking for jazz looking for soup, they followed the Spaniards who distinguished
He discussed with the United States and the eternal, but the ambition hopeless, they Yuandu Africa
They disappeared in a pair of volcanic Without a care in Mexico, leaving only the shadow of the coarse frock of Chicago will be scattered over the fireplace melting of poetry
Rock and ash,
They come and go in the west coast of the FBI to trace a beard and dressed in shorts, their skin dark anti-war advocates who Chende
Very sexy eyes opened wide dissemination of their incomprehensible leaflets,
Their arms full of cigarette hole burned to protest capitalism's tobacco regulation intoxicated haze,
Distribution of their ultra-communist Union Square, brochures, crying, strip and 洛塞勒摩斯 siren was swept down to them,
Swept down the wall, Staddon Island ferry also cry together,
They burst into tears in an empty gym naked, shivering in another frame of the machine before
They bite the neck detective in the police car was shrieking with excitement because of the crimes but had their own wild
Sodomy and drug abuse,
They fell to his knees in the subway, howling, trembling, waving the manuscript was dragged lower genital roof
They advance to the divine hand of his motorcycle rear, also issued a happy cry,
They swallow lick themselves to others by those human seraphim and aquatic stroked, it is love from the Atlantic Ocean and the Caribbean
Stroke,
They made love in the morning in the evening at the Rose Garden at the park and the cemetery grass, and their joyous to be thrown into any liquid which can be
Climax of the people,
Their bathroom wall in Turkey after the hiccups kept trying to squeeze the last princess giggle but only choked sobs, and blond
Blue-eyed angel naked sword piercing pounced to come to them,
They lost their lovers all because of that the fate of three old hamster, a dollar is a one-eyed out of heterosexual
The other went ahead uterine blink artisans weaving the wisdom of cutting the money
They are fanatical and greedy intercourse hand a bottle of beer, a pack of cigarettes a candle lover out of bed and rolling, and the floor
And in the living room to continue until the last in the eyes of the vulva and emerge out of the final wall collapsed in the last moment of consciousness dissipated
Orgasm
They make a million girls trembling in the sun_set_ to enjoy the sweet moments, sweet bloodshot eyes in the morning but still
Ready to enjoy the sunrise of joy and fleeting barn and lake nude ass,
They hang around in Colorado all night in a stolen car places rape prostitutes, Nepal - cards, the protagonist of these verses,
A rooster and the Denver Tony - his pleasant memories, he throws the girl numerous bases and buildings in the open after the dining car
Department
Rickety chair in the cinema, at the top of the hole, or in a familiar Youjing haggard waitress lifted the skirt of Health
, Especially in gas stations, home alley in the toilet there is a subjective theory,
They gradually disappeared in the huge dirty movie theater, in the dreams are turned away, suddenly woke up in Manhattan,
Cold stone wine and dream of the Third Avenue terrorist dispersed them in the cellar of a hangover, subsequently a fall into the unemployed
Relief by the door,
Penetration of the blood in their shoes to walk in the snow all night waiting for piece of the East River docks opened the door leading to a reservoir full of steam
The room heat and opium,
They climbed on the roof of the Hudson River shore cliffs apartments mercury in the war years as the blue moonlight staged bitter tragedy of suicide
They will play in the nether world crown head to crown,
They eat mutton or imagined burning dirty canals in the package at the bottom of Warri digested crab,
They hold the onion and inferior music filled the cart facing the street Romances cry
They sat in desperate sucked into the darkness under the bridge, then climb your loft building grand piano,
They wore a crown fire in the Ha Leimu the sixth floor of cough, tuberculosis, the sky was orange grove theology siege
They remembered all night Scribble rock for the dastardly spell profound morning left a piece of paper gibberish nonsense
They cooked perishable Borscht in lung and heart foot tail corn bread abstract plant kingdom dreams,
They got into a meat trucks looking for an egg,
They dropped from the roof to watch the time count as they cast a vote outside of the eternal, from ten years after the alarm sounds daily
No peace
They succeeded in three unsuccessful cut wrists, hands forced to quit skiing to open antique stores them in the store secretly sad old self
Qi,
Madison Avenue dressed in their innocent flannel suits much suffering, witnessed the low-level poetry carnival and popular Tiehan
They dream life of laughter and screaming ads fairies and insidious nitroglycerin and wise editors of mustard gas, also
Absolute reality taxi knocked to the ground,
They jumped off the Brooklyn Bridge this actually happening and then quietly walked away and fled to the fine mist of water dragons forgotten alleys in Chinatown
In the spirit of trance, or even attend a free glass of beer,
They sing in despair on the windowsill, turn the subway window, jumped into the dirty Pasek River, toward blacks, along wail
In the dance barefoot on broken glass, and broke the German nostalgia thirties jazz album in Europe drank whiskey moan
The spit into the bloody toilet, whispered lament the deafening siren suddenly sounded,
They are maneuvering along the road past the broken car to each other martyrs in prison-like solitude of waiting or Birmingham jazz
Body,
They drove for several seventy-two hours non-stop across the field to see if you are a beauty I found him, they were looking for eternal
,
They travel to Denver, who died in Denver, Denver, waited in vain for their return, they keep looking at the Denver and lonely contemplation
In Denver, the last to leave to find time, and now Denver has lost their hero because of the loneliness,
A hope of the church they knelt relief for each other and pray for the light and breasts, but only temporarily soul inspiration,
They are restless in prison waiting for the blonde villain, waiting for them to sing in front pelicans and the sweet blues
Real heart charm
They reclusive self-cultivation in Mexico, or to convert the Rockies Yuanshe Buddha or Tangiers to find old friends or go to the South Pacific search
To find the black locomotive or Harvard to find the first or to Wu Delong Narcissus looking daisy or grave,
They demanded a fair trial, accusing the radio narcotic, and their chaotic limbo state of mind, their hands and
Unresolved jury,
They threw potato salad driven Dada in New York City speech, and then his foot on the asylum-class performance light granite
Funny speech, head and suicide requesting immediate implementation of lobe resection,
And they were subjected to anti-spasm tonic electrical stimulation of insulin therapy occupational therapy spa letter is void of these, table tennis and amnesia,
Their angry protests overturned a symbolic only ping-pong tables, let us give up because of stress,
A comeback after years of only a bare wig blood, tears and fingers, back to this crazy city of eastern,
Crazy people in this ward can not escape the bad luck,
Pilgrim Hall Rockland State Greystone hall lobby smelled rancid, they quarreled with each other with the echo of the soul,
Loneliness - benches - stone, rock and roll at midnight in the kingdom of love, life, everything is just as nightmares, physical change as a heavy stone
Moon,
Finally, with the mother - and finally a bible out of the window, the door closed in the last four Pro morning, and finally a telephone
Rejection answer the last one on the wall a decorated room cleaning an empty, leaving only twisted wire hook in the clo_set_ on the yellow paper roses that
Finally, a spirit of furniture, and even which is purely imaginary, and the room kept empty line of vision of hope -
Ah, Carl, I do not when you do not secure stable, and you can really sleepy now into the era of chowder soup -
So they dream of running through the cold streets of a sudden flash of light alchemy, for them to find omitted, alignment, rhythm
Usage and tremor of the plane figure it out,
Juxtaposition of the images they use to achieve the dream of living in the gully to lie in the space, caught between the two visual images with the Spirit
Soul of the archangel, who join the basic verbs, nouns and awareness of the dash will be combined in one place, jumping in the Universal Father John
Constant feeling of God, the
To transform the syntax and rhythm of human poverty, they stood silent in front of you, wisdom, humiliated shivering, but denied that
Their minds, they bare the deep thinking mind to adapt to the beat,
Crimping prodigal son and the angel crazy idea struck, little known, but they still may want to leave, then the next life after death,
Stand up in fancy dress jazz reborn in the shadow of the horn in the band and play out in the United States seeking bare the soul
The suffering of love, blow the saxophone in order to facilitate the major Nigerian 利拉马拉马 Saba cry of the city, which sadly broken
Radio City until the last one,
Cut out from their own body of poetry out of the absolute heart of this life enough to eat a thousand years.
II
What is the cement and aluminum bashed knocked their skulls and ate up their brains and imagination?
Moloch! Alone! Filth! Ugly! Trash and unobtainable dollars! Children screaming under the stairways! Boys in
Army sob! Old men weeping in the parks!
Moloch! Moloch! Nightmare of Moloch! Moloch the loveless! Mental Moloch! Vulcan punish human judge!
Moloch the incomprehensible prison! Moloch the crossbone soulless prison liberalization of sorrows join in! Moloch
The tower is a trial! Moloch the vast stone of war! Moloch the stunned governments!
Moloch whose mind is pure machinery! Moloch whose blood is running money! Moloch whose fingers are ten armies!
Moloch whose breast is a cannibal dynamo! Moloch whose ear is a smoking tomb!
Moloch whose eyes are one thousand blind windows! Moloch whose skyscrapers along the street stands the Lord, like endless! Fire
God plants his sleep in the mist, shouting in the fog! Moloch whose smokestacks and antennae crown the cities!
Moloch whose love is endless oil and stone! Moloch whose soul is electricity and banks! Moloch whose poverty is the ghost of genius
Spirit! Moloch whose fate is a cloud of sexless hydrogen! Moloch whose name is will!
Moloch in whom I sit lonely! Vulcan I have a dream in which an angel! Crazy in Moloch! Cocksucker in Moloch! The fire
Lost love and men of God!
Moloch who entered my soul early! Moloch in whom I am a consciousness without a body! Moloch who frightened me the pleasure of nature
! Moloch whom I abandon! Wake up in Moloch! Light streaming out of the sky!
Moloch! Moloch! Robot apartments! Invisible suburbs! Skeleton treasuries! Blind capitals! Demonic industries! Spectral nations!
Hopelessly insane asylum! Granite penis! Monstrous bombs!
They broke their backs lifting Moloch to Heaven! Pavements, trees, radios, tons! Lifting the city to everywhere in the paradise
!
Dream! Thing of evil! Phantom! Miracle! Ecstasy! Gone down the American river!
Dream! Worship! Bright! Religion! A whole boatload of sensitive bullshit!
Breakthroughs! Over the river! Flips and crucifixions! Down the flood! Heights! Show! Despair! Ten animals
Screams and suicides! Mind! New loves! Mad generation! Down on the rocks!
Holy laughter in the river! For all to see! The wild eyes! The holy yells! They bade farewell! They
Jumped off the roof! To solitude! Waving! Carrying flowers! Down to the river! Into the street!
III
Karl - Solomon! I am with you in Rockland
There you more crazy than me
I am with you in Rockland
There you will fidget
I am with you in Rockland
Where you imitate the shadow of my mother
I am with you in Rockland
There you murdered your twelve Secretary
I am with you in Rockland
Where you laugh at the humor that no notice
I am with you in Rockland
There is a great writer, we beat the same poor typewriter
I am with you in Rockland
There you have your radio deteriorating condition notice
I am with you in Rockland
Where the brain no longer tolerate the feeling of the moth bodies
I am with you in Rockland
There you have to drink it You Tika old maid tea on breast
I am with you in Rockland
Where you pun on the body of nurses, they are teasing the Bronx woman island
I am with you in Rockland
There you bundle called upon in the mad chaos in the fear of clothing is to lose the Bureau of the abyss of the real Table Tennis
I am with you in Rockland
You beat it in there, suffering from catatonic piano the soul is immortal is never innocent to die of it armed with the absurd
Madhouse
I am with you in Rockland
Fifty times and there and then not be able to shock you far into the void in the soul of the Cross pilgrimage back to the body
I am with you in Rockland
There you unconscious and doctors accused fascist state to plan the skeleton of a Hebraic style socialism that you
Revolution
I am with you in Rockland
Long Island, where you will split the sky from that super-human that you dug up the tomb of Christ on earth live
I am with you in Rockland
Where a total of twenty-five thousand mad comrades singing "The Internationale" final stanza
I am with you in Rockland
Where we lay under sheets that hug and kiss the United States would not let us sleep all night coughing and the United States
I am with you in Rockland
There we were awakened from their lethargy in the roar of the soul of the roof struck by the aircraft to drop their feeder angel here
Bomb that lit up the hospital's walls have collapsed own imagination ah sparks flying safety starry surprise that eternal war dead
War has come
Ah victory forget your underwear now we are free
I am with you in Rockland
In my dream you wept sea travel across the United States drops of water on the main street in tears the night at my shower in the West
Walking in the door of the huts
San Francisco 1955-1956
"Howl" Footnote
Divine! Divine! Divine! Divine! Divine! Divine! Divine! Divine! Divine! Divine! Divine! Divine! Sacred
! Divine! Divine!
Sacred in this world! Soul divine! Skin divine! Nose divine! Tongue, penis, hands and buttocks divine!
All that is sacred! All divine! Throughout the divine! Everyone in eternity! Daily do in eternity! Everyone is an angel!
Prodigal Son and the Holy Seraphim general! Madman and the general sanctity of my soul!
Typewriter sound sacred sacred sacred poetry audience sacred ecstasy divine!
Peter Solomon, Holy God, Holy God Shengluxian Sheng Ailun holy God 圣克鲁亚克 Shengkasadi Hank God God God Shengboluosi
It was torn and suffering saint of beggars holy angels who ugly world!
Holy my mother in a lunatic asylum! Kansas grandfathers penis divine!
That moaning saxophone divine! Divine revelation that jazz! Sacred jazz jazz lovers of peace and marijuana heroin and
Drums!
Sacred solitude of skyscrapers and brick road! Holy tide of the cafeteria person! Holy River Street under mysterious tears!
Big black sacred God alone! Holy Lamb huge middle class! Divine Shepherd that crazy rebel! Who discovered the Los Angeles
Los Angeles who is!
Holy God 圣圣弗兰西斯科 New York and Seattle holy God 圣皮奥利亚 Paris, Moscow, Holy God, Holy Shengdanjier Iraq
Istanbul!
Holy time in eternity holy eternity in time holy holy four-dimensional space, the alarm clock the fifth International holy holy god of fire in
Angel!
Holy the sea holy the desert holy railway locomotives Holy Holy Holy Dream miracle divine illusion eyeball holy the abyss of divine!
Divine Mercy! Grace! Mercy! Faith! Divine! Us! Body! Pain! Tolerance!
Immense supernatural divine wisdom that the soul of kindness!
Boke Lei, 1955
-------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------
In Ebolinai grave
There will always be one day ... ...
People will know the future
Died without this knowledge
1
Appeared in the U.S. presidential summit in France to participate in national day
I visited Lachaise Cemetery paid respects to the remains of Ebolinai
Even Orly airport in the blue bar, clean cage in the spring
Paris Sky
Eisenhower from his fly over the United States cemeteries
In the French over Lachaise Cemetery
Concentration such as cannabis smoke rising fog of illusion
I slowly walk through 彼得沃洛夫 Sharansky Lachaise Cemetery,
Know each day has died
Consequently, we are like mini-cities in the light of eternity holding hands
Highway and street identification of rocks and hills and in front of the house each household names
Looking for that missing void in the well-known address of the French
Prehistoric pillar to his hopeless little respect to our offense
The United States will be my short-lived "Howl" on his silent
"Kari Graham" on
Him with the poet's X-ray eyes reading these verses
Reading for his miracles on his own death in the Seine lyrics
I hope a wild young monk will put his book to God my grave
Cold winter night in heaven read my poems
Our hands already disappeared from that place with my hands in a Paris
Hut says
William ah your brain full of courage and what is death what
I'm still searching through the cemetery can not find your grave
You said in your poem that singular purpose is the head bandage
Oh, the stench of the skull solemn everything you say is naught
And this is simply a lot of money is the answer
Driving a car can not enter the tomb and the six-inch blocks of this universe is
Large enough to hold all of the mausoleum
This universe is a cemetery where I walk alone
Fifty years ago Abolinai Nostalgia in the same street
His madness is coming to join us and heat the theft of books
The West is once again in the wisdom of the war and who will correct all suicide
吉约姆吉约姆 How I envy you your reputation of American culture
Contribution
Muqu your death surrounded by long covered with cow dung on madness
Come out from the tomb of the door to talk through my thoughts now
Images to create a long list of new blue ocean in Moscow taxi haiku
Black statue of the Buddha
The survival of your previous record on the phonograph pray for me
Sad with that linger deep sweet voice and music content sadness praise to God
The same as the rustle of World War I
I have to swallow your ears from the cemetery and the Van Gogh and the A Tuode the madman in the sent magic carrot root
I will put the French poetry of the black cape walk
The streets of New York
Spot chanting the snow we're Cemetery Bali La Dialogue
But also the future of poetry, as they are inspired by the blood flow into your
Tomb of the sun
2
In Paris, where, I am your guest, a friendly shadow Oh
Max Jacob's hand was not present
In his youth, Picasso as I was afraid to barrel Mediterranean
I attended the old red Rousseau I ate his dinner portable piano
In Baduo La V W grand gathering was held not in the
Algeria appear in textbooks
Bois explains Mandelbrot's Tzara
Alchemy gun
He was crying into my Swedish
Blue and purple tie and black pants dressed
Sweet purple beard from his face, like birth
Moss hanging in the anarchist
He kept nagging and bickering 安德列布鲁 East
And one day he was helping this man cleared his golden beard comb
Old Bulaizisong Della asked me into his tired to study
About the long endless Siberian
Yake Wa thank you I visited his terrible gun collection
Cork is the poor more than the great Hardy was sad about confused
His last thought makes me dizzy
Hugo wrote a letter of introduction to the Death
And Kidd has praised the invention of telephone and other great
They generally agreed but he said that peppermint underwear endlessly
In any case he drank deeply grass Whitman also
All the wounded get the name of Colorado's heartbreak
U.S. cluster bombs and baseball princes from holding
Ah Ji Yuemu world war seems so easy to fall into so easily
You know, the great political classicist who was prepared to invade Montparnasse
Guizhi not a prophet of their forehead covered with green
There is no trace of their pillow after the war there is no green Guizhi -
Mayakovsky to him in the vomit
3
Turn around and stare at you sitting in your rough pillars of the tomb
If a piece of thin marble statue of the penis is not completed
A cross fade into the color of the rock resting on the stone Two Poems
First, the "inverted heart"
The other is, "You ready to meet me as I had predicted a genius 吉约姆阿波里奈 德柯斯托威 Nowitzki it? "
Bottle filled with some jam on the grave there is a daisy
5 or 10 U.S. cents surreal characters enamel roses members
Studded with flowers and a happy little heart upside down grave
Covered with thick moss on a tree, I sat under the curved trunk
Summer foliage umbrella coverage on top of the pillar of the empty here
This owl's hoot how dangerous Ji Yuemu you How have you been?
His neighborhood is a tree
Accumulation in the ground where the cross bones under the head may be yellow
There are those printed in my pocket, "alcohol" Poetry
His voice in the museum
Now middle-aged in the gravel on the road footsteps
The name of a man staring to really tall
Around the building with crematoria
The same sky clouds rolled in during the war as
In the days of the Mediterranean Sea on the river
Apollo in love occasionally drink alcohol opium
He inhaled the light
When he came out we felt the shock of Saint-Germain
Jacob and Picasso cough in the dark
Open the skull of a bandage remained outstretched on the bed
Mysterious and self-bloated fingers have gone
The spire of the church on the street ringing the bell made of chestnut trees on the bird mass
Bule Meng family lying near the tomb of Christ hanging in their spacious and very sexy chest
I smoke cigarettes in the knees of my poems in the pages filled with smoke and flames
Ant climbed my corduroy sleeve I am on the tree above
Growing slowly
Grass and tree branches growing up through the graves to join spider web of silver light in the triumphant marble
I'm sitting here, buried under a tree guarding the graves of their own
-------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------
Back in the real
St. Joseph's in the yard behind the real
I wandered lonely
In front of a tank farm
Then get on the bench
Cottage near the pull-Astoria.
A bloom in the hay
On the road asphalt
- Is a terrible hay flower
I think - it was raw
Crisp black branches there
An Huang Sui to be
Corolla narrow, as Jesus
Wang Mian, middle filthy
Family of dry cotton
Like a shaving brush with the old
Lying in the pile of throw groceries
Has been a full year.
Yellow, yellow flowers
The flower industry,
Stiff spiny ugly flowers,
However, it took
That the appearance of bright yellow
Like the huge rose in your mind!
This is the flower of the world.
San Jose, 1954
-------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------
To Lindsay
Cutting Mitchell, the stars flashed
Mist covers the road in Colorado
A car slowly climb over the plains
Shouted in the dim light jazz radio
That sad lit another cigarette salesman
In another city that was 27 years ago
I see your shadows on the wall
You wear suspenders, sitting on the bed
Hands up in the shadow of a pistol aimed at your head
Your shadow fell to the ground
Paris 1958
-------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------
Li Song of the dawn of my
I've wasted five years time
In Manhattan
Life Decay
Run out of talent
Incoherent speech
Patient and neurotic
Lying on the table
Slide rule and calculator
The three signed
Brochures and tax
Futie prompts
Meager wages
My twenties youth
In the market up for grabs
Syncope in the office
Crying on a typewriter
Mass deception
Great rebellion brewing
Deodorant warships
Not relent in the case is serious
Any who every Saturday
I can guzzle blood bank
This is a part of me
Crime can not be considered
Depressed to labor five years
From twenty-two to twenty-year-old
Not a dime in the bank
Worth seeing
Only the sun dawn
Smoke ring that comes out to visit the East bedroom
I am doomed to hell any
Alarm clock ringing noise
Translated by Huang Liaoyuan
-------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------
Death and Honor
When I die,
I do not care how my body was disposed of,
The ashes into the sky, threw part of the East River,
The urns buried in the Jewish cemetery in New Jersey Yilishabo Black.
However, I hope a grand funeral held
In St. Patrick's church, St. Mark Church, and the largest synagogue in Manhattan,
First, present my family, my brother, nephew, nephew, 96-year-old stepmother Aidi Si energy is still abundant,
There Hengni aunt came from Newark
Joey also doctors, cousin Judy, Gege You gold, he a deaf, blind eye.
Wife 布隆德康尼, there are five nephews, step-mother's brothers and sisters and their grandchildren,
My partner Peter O'Toole Pavlovsky, Butler and Hull people Rosenthal, Bier Mo Kim
Then, the master of my soul King master Tsongkhapa, Ge Leke Living Buddha, Master Yong Selcom
Lama's emergency mourning a letter, he happened to visit the United States, as well as South Swami Tam Sa Qi
Shiva South, 德霍拉哈瓦 Baba Kama Ba XVI, and Suzuki Rosh down the magician katagivi
Phantom
Baker, Warren, wearing a multi-channel, the Lions have been old, gray-haired and round Toru Fred Luo Luoxi Lama
Course, the most important ones are half a century since I had all the love people
Dozens, hundreds, and perhaps more, those old guys head is bald, but his head is thick hair
Not long ago, still in bed naked young man met so many people meet each other really very surprised, eloquent,
Cordial and unrestrained, unlimited brought back memories
"He taught me meditation, it does not, I now behind closed doors, but a thousand days of meditation veteran who ... ..."
"I love to play a musical instrument in the subway platform, I love him very bluntly that he loves me."
"We were lying covered with chat, read my poetry, hug and kiss."
"I always wear underwear on his bed, next morning, threw all my underwear on the floor."
"All night we would talk about Kerouac and Cassedy, do not sleep sitting in his big bed like a Buddha."
"He seems to need more love, really ashamed not make him happy."
"I've never alone naked in bed with whom he is so cute my belly thrilled when his fingers on my nipples
On touch ... ... "
"I did not want to just lie down and let his eyes closed, lips and fingers Yanshen let him slide into my chest arbitrary.
"
See, that is so intertwined with a number of chat love in 1948, the ghosts of 尼尔卡塞迪
Skin in 1997 with the passion of the young,
Then comes the surprise - "You did the same thing, but I think your pretty normal,"
"I'd be Allen Ginsberg is an exception, he always reasons to make me happy,"
"I do not remember whether I be considered a true as gay, despite the strange or ridiculous, and I
Only feel his soft passionate kiss my head to stay still ... ...
In my forehead, neck, chest and solar nerve, belly department, with his tongue licking me from behind. "
"I like him to read, can be behind me, I always hear Time's light rail vehicles with wings held fast to the time of expression,
Head against head, binocular phase, as, leaning against the pillow ... ... "
Large number of partners in the late limp limp is a handsome young lad children,
"Seventeen years old, I took his poetry classes, always love to find some reason ran up his residence without an elevator apartment building
Not in the mood to tease me, let me go, then I went home and she never seen him, nor had that thought ... ... ...
"He was always powerless, but he likes me, ... 'a lovely old man ...' He always makes me excited about the first impulse."
Attended the public memorial service and rhetoric than the most unexpected of these memories ... ...
Mourners also poets and musicians - the band students - a veteran rock star
The Beatles, and more guitar players to always afternoon, gay, classical music conductor, obscure pop jazz
Music
Composer, who exudes the smell of the trumpeter, playing bass trumpet and the French black elite, folk singers,
Violinist, with the start drums, harmonica, mandolin, auto harp, whistle and pocket-sized toy flute music in the issued,
Of course, there will be artists, the Italian romantic realist, the sixties have been to India to study the mysterious
Fauvism late painter - poet, classical works drawn by the state of Massachu_set_ts as well as from the surreal to send European urchin
Wife children. Came from the poor in remote parts of sorrow stricken oil painting drawing watercolor painter powder.
Finally, there is high school teachers, by nature a lonely Irish librarians, sophisticated and elegant collection home
Participated in the liberation movement of the masses, no, more than just the people, is simply a force, difficult to distinguish the sex ladies
"I saw him ten times, but he had not been able to remember my name, anyway, I like him, he was a true
Artists. "
"During menopause, my lack of energy, humor save his poetry in the hospital I did not commit suicide."
"He is so charismatic, talented and polite, in the guest bedroom of my week in Budapest, but also in person at the sink
In cleaning utensils. "
Ah, the scene there will be many readers, "" Howl "changed my city in Virginia, Illinois, Liberty life."
"I was the first in the Montclair State Teachers College to listen to him recite the poem, from also determined to become a poet -"
"He made me suddenly realize that I work in a garage when the Rolling Stones began to keen on music, singing me in Kansas City
Writing songs. "
"" Card, the first thread "that I myself and the father in Nevada City, cry."
"My sister died in Boston in 1982, is" the death of his father, "This poem gives me comfort."
"I read in a news magazine, his articles, suddenly understood the situation of some people like me."
Even a poet, singer, although a number of deaf and dumb can they sing with gestures instead of poetic language.
Also came to the journalists, editorial secretary, manager, photography fans, rock critics, educated labor,
Cultural historians to participate in the funeral as a historical witness
There are super-poetry fans, self-righteous poets, the older the year of the "Beat" elements and people who have a free ride,
Interested in collecting autographed manuscript of the people, by all means the freedom to chart fame photographer
Afford to watch the impressive intelligence of people standing there
Everyone has to understand that they have become "history" part, in addition to those who are mourning,
But this is all I really know nothing happened, even though I still live in this human world.
February 22, 1997
(Translated by Wen Chu An)
Translation Postscript: Allen. Hopkins afraid format (A11en
Ginsberg) on April 5, 1997 in New York suffering from liver cancer in his Manhattan apartment Thirteenth street
Died at the age of seventy. That has been suffering from an incurable disease, his unusual calm, but is said to have wept from time to time; from diagnosis
After they have been trapped in bed, died a few days ago, gave the surviving friends to call, write several poems, "Death and glory
Reputation "is one of the first, the
Weekday humor, wit, ridicule remains the same, you can almost hear his hearty laughter, see him smile slightly lowers
, Dying the night before, a number of relatives and friends have been waiting at the side. His memory of his father Louis Ginsberg (also a poet
) In the poem "Father Death Blues" nail in the front door. Ginsburg was buried in the town of Elizabeth, New Jersey, a
Judah Cemetery (his father's tomb
Places also here). Ginsburg 1998, I went to New York residence, and pay tribute to Elizabeth the cemetery, with deep feelings
. Value of the second anniversary of the poet's death, especially in this poem in his memory.
-------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------
United States
United States, I've everything to you, now I have nothing.
United States, two dollars seven, 17 January 1956
I can not stand my own mind.
United States, will we end the human war?
To your mother, your atom bomb
I do not feel, Do not mess with me
I am not the normal mind can not write poetry,
United States, when did you be angelic?
When did you take off your clothes?
When do you see yourself through the grave?
When will you be worthy of your million Trotskyites?
United States, why are your libraries full of tears?
United States, when will you send your eggs to India?
I'm sick of your insane demands
When I go into the supermarket
With my good looks to buy my necessities?
Ultimately, the United States, is that you and I who are perfect not the next
Your machinery is too much. I can not accept
You make me want to be a saint
What the total of the other way to resolve this dispute
Bo Rui in Tan Zeer. I think he will not come back
This is the dark, are you dark, or is this a specific joke?
I want to say to the point
I refuse to give up my stubborn read
The United States do not force me, I know what to do
United States, the plum blossom fell
I do not read the newspapers a few months, every day people were tried for murder
United States, I have sentimental feelings towards China Bolai Si
United States, when I was a child I was the Communist Party
I do not regret it.
I have the opportunity to smoke marijuana
I sit in the house for several days. Qiaokan Rose clo_set_
When I go to Chinatown when I get drunk. But do not sleep.
I believe that dumping occurs Ma
I read Marx and you should see
My doctors believe I have all the normal psychological
I refuse to pray
I have a mysterious illusion and the universe shock
The United States. I have not told you, Maggs uncle
Came back from Russia, how do you treat him
I'm talking to you.
Time magazine you want to control your love life now
I was in control of Time magazine
I read it every week
Every time I walked quietly around the corner candy shop
Time magazine's cover always staring at me
Burke dishes I read it in the basement of public libraries
It always told me that responsibility. Sale who is serious
Films are serious, everyone, except me, is serious.
It makes me think I was an American
I muttered to myself out.
Asia's rise against me,
I do not have a Chinese person that opportunity.
I'd better take into account the resources of their own nation
My national resources, including both marijuana hall, millions of
Reproductive organs, a private work is not published, it
Dissemination of fourteen hundred per hour, step,
And twenty-five thousand neurology hospital
I have not mentioned my prison and millions of people affected by discrimination
They live in a pot on my five hundred illuminated by the sun,
I abolished the French brothel, the next one is, but Zell
I volunteer to be president, although I am a Catholic
United States, the mood in you fool How could I write a holy prayer song
Henry Ford I will continue my verse is a characteristic
Just as his car, worse, they have different gender
I sold the United States end your verse, a 2,500 yuan, will you
Sale of old verse 500,
U.S. release of Tom, Munich
Loyalty to the United States to rescue the Spanish party
Fan participation with the United States for the sand can not die,
I Sige Si County American children
United States, when I was seven, my mother took me to Communist Party
Chamber meeting, they sell us soybeans
A ticket a soybean
A nickel a point
White lecture listening, all angelic
With deep feeling for all the workers
All in good faith as more than
You do not know how good the party in 1835
Of Gedenilin is a great good for the elderly
A reasonable person in charge of real
Brewer mother let me cry
I have a clear Israeli A Mute
Just about everyone that is a spy
United States, you do not really want to fight
United States, the Russians blame the bad
Those Russians, those Russians, and Chinese
We live in Russia must swallow, Russia is a power mad,
Her car to our guns away from the garage
Chicago, she stole, she needs a red
Reader's Digest
She wants our auto plants in Siberia
Her big bureaucratic rule our stations
This is not good, oh, she let the Indians learn to read
She needs big black, oh, she let us all every
Days, six hours of work, life-saving ah
United States, this is a serious matter
United States, this is when I do get the impression TV
U.S. corporations, these are true?
I'd better deal with this matter immediately,
I do not want to join the army, or in precision parts factories open
Lathe, I myopia, and mental illness
United States, I put my shoulder against the wheel weird.
(Zheng Min translation)
Translated by Google
我领悟了草坪，我领悟了山坡，我领悟了高速公路群，
我领悟了泥路，我领悟了在停车场路上的汽车，
我领悟了售票员，我领悟了现金和支票以及卡片，
我领悟了公共汽车群，我领悟了哀悼者，我领悟了他们
的穿红色连衣裙的孩子们，
我领悟了高速公路，领悟了别墅，领悟了旗帜…
领悟了信徒们，领悟了他们的卡车和面包车，领悟了穿
着卡其布制服的保卫员
我领悟了人群，领悟了有薄雾的天空，领悟了所有的弥
漫着的笑容和虚无的眼睛
我领悟了枕头，着着红色与籄E色的，方的枕头和圆的……
我领悟了拱门，领悟了弓，领悟了男人和女人的游行，领
悟了前进，领悟了风笛，领悟了鼓、喇叭，领悟了
高的头饰和番红的长袍，领悟了整套西装……
我领悟了花骄，领悟了雨伞，领悟了塔
领悟了绘制过的手饰，四个方向的颜色
领悟了代表慷慨大方的琥珀色，领悟了代表因果报应规
律的绿色，
领悟了代表佛祖的白色，领悟了代表心的红色……
我领悟了塔上的十三个世界，领悟了铃把和伞，领悟了
空心的铃
领悟了那将装入铃心的尸体
领悟了那些正在吟唱着的僧侣，喇叭在我们的耳朵里，烟
雾从防火砖的空心铃的头上升起
领悟了人群的沉默，领悟了智利的诗人，领悟了彩虹，
我领悟了死了的印度教首领，我领悟了他裸体胸部的老
师在看着一个在塔内燃烧的尸体，领悟了哀悼的学生
在他们的书前盘腿地坐，诵唱着忠诚的经，
我领悟了用他们的手指表现着的神秘的手势，领悟了在
他们手中的铃和铜的闪电
我领悟了从旗和电线和伞和漆着枯黄之柱子上升起的火焰
我领悟了天空，领悟了太阳，围绕着太阳的彩虹
我领悟了薄雾之云过这太阳……
我领悟了自己心灵的跳动，我的呼吸穿过着我的鼻孔
我的脚走着，我的眼看着，我的脑子领悟着从被尸体燃
烧的纪念碑上升起的烟雾
我领悟了下山的小路，我领悟了向公共汽车移动着的人群
我领悟了食品，莴苣沙拉，我领悟了老师缺席了，
我领悟了我的朋友们，我领悟了我们的瑞典汽车蓝色的，
我领悟了一个抓住我手的年青小伙子
我领悟了我们的在汽车旅馆门锁里的钥匙，我领悟了黑
暗，我领悟了一个梦，就忘了
我领悟了在早餐上的桔子和柠檬和鱼子酱，
我领悟了高速公路，我的疲倦，我的关于作业的观念，小
伙子的在微风中的有乳头的胸部
当汽车开下山迫穿过绿色的树林驶向水，
我领悟了屋群，晒台眺望着有薄雾的地平线，海岸和老
化的石头在沙子中
我领悟了海，我领悟了音乐，我想跳舞。
1987年5月23日
献给卡尔·所罗门
I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by
madness, starving hysterical naked,
dragging themselves through the negro streets at dawn
looking for an angry fix,
angelheaded hipsters burning for the ancient heavenly
connection to the starry dynamo in the machinery of night,
who poverty and tatters and hollow-eyed and high sat
up smoking in the supernatural darkness of
cold-water flats floating across the tops of cities
contemplating jazz,
who bared their brains to Heaven under the El and
saw Mohammedan angels staggering on tenement roofs illuminated,
who passed through universities with radiant cool eyes
hallucinating Arkansas and Blake-light tragedy
among the scholars of war,
who were expelled from the academies for crazy &
publishing obscene odes on the windows of the skull,
who cowered in unshaven rooms in underwear,
burning their money in wastebaskets and listening
to the Terror through the wall,
who got busted in their pubic beards returning through
Laredo with a belt of marijuana for New York,
who ate fire in paint hotels or drank turpentine in
Paradise Alley, death, or purgatoried their
torsos night after night
with dreams, with drugs, with waking nightmares,
alcohol and cock and endless balls,
incomparable blind; streets of shuddering cloud and
lightning in the mind leaping toward poles of Canada & Paterson,
illuminating all the motionless world of Time between,
Peyote solidities of halls, backyard green tree cemetery
dawns, wine drunkenness over the rooftops,
storefront boroughs of teahead joyride neon
blinking traffic light, sun and moon and tree
vibrations in the roaring winter dusks of Brooklyn,
ashcan rantings and kind king light of mind,
who chained themselves to subways for the endless
ride from Battery to holy Bronx on benzedrine
until the noise of wheels and children brought
them down shuddering mouth-wracked and
battered bleak of brain all drained of brilliance
in the drear light of Zoo,
who sank all night in submarine light of Bickford's
floated out and sat through the stale beer after
noon in desolate Fugazzi's, listening to the crack
of doom on the hydrogen jukebox,
who talked continuously seventy hours from park to
pad to bar to Bellevue to museum to the Brooklyn Bridge,
lost battalion of platonic conversationalists jumping
down the stoops off fire escapes off windowsills
off Empire State out of the moon,
yacketayakking screaming vomiting whispering facts
and memories and anecdotes and eyeball kicks
and shocks of hospitals and jails and wars,
whole intellects disgorged in total recall for seven days
and nights with brilliant eyes, meat for the
Synagogue cast on the pavement,
who vanished into nowhere Zen New Jersey leaving a
trail of ambiguous picture postcards of Atlantic City Hall,
suffering Eastern sweats and Tangerian bone-grind-ings and
migraines of China under junk-with-drawal in Newark's bleak furnished room,
who wandered around and around at midnight in the
railroad yard wondering where to go, and went,
leaving no broken hearts,
who lit cigarettes in boxcars boxcars boxcars racketing
through snow toward lonesome farms in grand-father night,
who studied Plotinus Poe St. John of the Cross telepathy
and bop kabbalah because the cosmos instinctively
vibrated at their feet in Kansas,
who loned it through the streets of Idaho seeking visionary
indian angels who were visionary indian angels,
who thought they were only mad when Baltimore
gleamed in supernatural ecstasy,
who jumped in limousines with the Chinaman of Oklahoma on the impulse of winter midnight street
light smalltown rain,
who lounged hungry and lonesome through Houston
seeking jazz or sex or soup, and followed the
brilliant Spaniard to converse about America
and Eternity, a hopeless task, and so took ship to Africa,
who disappeared into the volcanoes of Mexico leaving
behind nothing but the shadow of dungarees
and the lava and ash of poetry scattered in fireplace Chicago,
who reappeared on the West Coast investigating the
F.B.I. in beards and shorts with big pacifist
eyes sexy in their dark skin passing out incomprehensible leaflets,
who burned cigarette holes in their arms protesting
the narcotic tobacco haze of Capitalism,
who distributed Supercommunist pamphlets in Union
Square weeping and undressing while the sirens
of Los Alamos wailed them down, and wailed
down Wall, and the Staten Island ferry also wailed,
who broke down crying in white gymnasiums naked
and trembling before the machinery of other skeletons,
who bit detectives in the neck and shrieked with delight
in policecars for committing no crime but their
own wild cooking pederasty and intoxication,
who howled on their knees in the subway and were
dragged off the roof waving genitals and manuscripts,
who let themselves be fucked in the ass by saintly
motorcyclists, and screamed with joy,
who blew and were blown by those human seraphim,
the sailors, caresses of Atlantic and Caribbean love,
who balled in the morning in the evenings in rose
gardens and the grass of public parks and
cemeteries scattering their semen freely to
whomever come who may,
who hiccuped endlessly trying to giggle but wound up
with a sob behind a partition in a Turkish Bath
when the blond & naked angel came to pierce
them with a sword,
who lost their loveboys to the three old shrews of fate
the one eyed shrew of the heterosexual dollar
the one eyed shrew that winks out of the womb
and the one eyed shrew that does nothing but
sit on her ass and snip the intellectual golden
threads of the craftsman's loom,
who copulated ecstatic and insatiate with a bottle of
beer a sweetheart a package of cigarettes a candle and fell off the bed, and continued along
the floor and down the hall and ended fainting
on the wall with a vision of ultimate cunt and
come eluding the last gyzym of consciousness,
who sweetened the snatches of a million girls trembling
in the sunset, and were red eyed in the morning
but prepared to sweeten the snatch of the sun
rise, flashing buttocks under barns and naked in the lake,
who went out whoring through Colorado in myriad
stolen night-cars, N.C., secret hero of these
poems, cocksman and Adonis of Denver-joy
to the memory of his innumerable lays of girls
in empty lots & diner backyards, moviehouses'
rickety rows, on mountaintops in caves or with
gaunt waitresses in familiar roadside lonely petticoat upliftings & especially secret gas-station
solipsisms of johns, & hometown alleys too,
who faded out in vast sordid movies, were shifted in
dreams, woke on a sudden Manhattan, and
picked themselves up out of basements hung
over with heartless Tokay and horrors of Third
Avenue iron dreams & stumbled to unemployment offices,
who walked all night with their shoes full of blood on
the snowbank docks waiting for a door in the
East River to open to a room full of steamheat and opium,
who created great suicidal dramas on the apartment
cliff-banks of the Hudson under the wartime
blue floodlight of the moon & their heads shall
be crowned with laurel in oblivion,
who ate the lamb stew of the imagination or digested
the crab at the muddy bottom of the rivers of Bowery,
who wept at the romance of the streets with their
pushcarts full of onions and bad music,
who sat in boxes breathing in the darkness under the
bridge, and rose up to build harpsichords in their lofts,
who coughed on the sixth floor of Harlem crowned
with flame under the tubercular sky surrounded
by orange crates of theology,
who scribbled all night rocking and rolling over lofty
incantations which in the yellow morning were
stanzas of gibberish,
who cooked rotten animals lung heart feet tail borsht
& tortillas dreaming of the pure vegetable kingdom,
who plunged themselves under meat trucks looking for an egg,
who threw their watches off the roof to cast their ballot
for Eternity outside of Time, & alarm clocks
fell on their heads every day for the next decade,
who cut their wrists three times successively unsuccessfully, gave up and were forced to open antique
stores where they thought they were growing
old and cried,
who were burned alive in their innocent flannel suits
on Madison Avenue amid blasts of leaden verse
& the tanked-up clatter of the iron regiments
of fashion & the nitroglycerine shrieks of the
fairies of advertising & the mustard gas of sinister intelligent editors, or were run down by the
drunken taxicabs of Absolute Reality,
who jumped off the Brooklyn Bridge this actually happened and walked away unknown and forgotten
into the ghostly daze of Chinatown soup alley
ways & firetrucks, not even one free beer,
who sang out of their windows in despair, fell out of
the subway window, jumped in the filthy Passaic, leaped on negroes,
cried all over the street,
danced on broken wineglasses barefoot smashed
phonograph records of nostalgic European
1930s German jazz finished the whiskey and
threw up groaning into the bloody toilet, moans
in their ears and the blast of colossal steam whistles,
who barreled down the highways of the past journeying
to each other's hotrod-Golgotha jail-solitude
watch or Birmingham jazz incarnation,
who drove crosscountry seventytwo hours to find out
if I had a vision or you had a vision or he had
a vision to find out Eternity,
who journeyed to Denver, who died in Denver, who
came back to Denver & waited in vain, who
watched over Denver & brooded & loned in
Denver and finally went away to find out the
Time, & now Denver is lonesome for her heroes,
who fell on their knees in hopeless cathedrals praying
for each other's salvation and light and breasts,
until the soul illuminated its hair for a second,
who crashed through their minds in jail waiting for
impossible criminals with golden heads and the
charm of reality in their hearts who sang sweet
blues to Alcatraz,
who retired to Mexico to cultivate a habit, or Rocky
Mount to tender Buddha or Tangiers to boys
or Southern Pacific to the black locomotive or
Harvard to Narcissus to Woodlawn to the
daisychain or grave,
who demanded sanity trials accusing the radio of hyp
notism & were left with their insanity & their
hands & a hung jury,
who threw potato salad at CCNY lecturers on Dadaism
and subsequently presented themselves on the
granite steps of the madhouse with shaven heads
and harlequin speech of suicide, demanding instantaneous lobotomy,
and who were given instead the concrete void of insulin
Metrazol electricity hydrotherapy psychotherapy occupational
therapy pingpong & amnesia,
who in humorless protest overturned only one symbolic
pingpong table, resting briefly in catatonia,
returning years later truly bald except for a wig of
blood, and tears and fingers, to the visible mad
man doom of the wards of the madtowns of the East,
Pilgrim State's Rockland's and Greystone's foetid
halls, bickering with the echoes of the soul,
rocking and rolling in the midnight solitude-bench
dolmen-realms of love, dream of life a nightmare,
bodies turned to stone as heavy as the moon,
with mother finally ******, and the last fantastic book
flung out of the tenement window, and the last
door closed at 4. A.M. and the last telephone
slammed at the wall in reply and the last furnished room
emptied down to the last piece of mental furniture,
a yellow paper rose twisted on a wire hanger in the closet,
and even that imaginary,
nothing but a hopeful little bit of hallucination
ah, Carl, while you are not safe I am not safe, and
now you're really in the total animal soup of time
and who therefore ran through the icy streets obsessed
with a sudden flash of the alchemy of the use
of the ellipse the catalog the meter & the vibrating plane,
who dreamt and made incarnate gaps in Time & Space
through images juxtaposed, and trapped the
archangel of the soul between 2 visual images
and joined the elemental verbs and set the noun
and dash of consciousness together jumping
with sensation of Pater Omnipotens Aeterna Deus
to recreate the syntax and measure of poor human
prose and stand before you speechless and intelligent
and shaking with shame,
rejected yet confessing out the soul to conform to the rhythm
of thought in his naked and endless head,
the madman bum and angel beat in Time, unknown,
yet putting down here what might be left to say
in time come after death,
and rose reincarnate in the ghostly clothes of jazz in
the goldhorn shadow of the band and blew the
suffering of America's naked mind for love into
an eli eli lamma lamma sabacthani saxophone
cry that shivered the cities down to the last radio
with the absolute heart of the poem of life butchered
out of their own bodies good to eat a thousand years.
What sphinx of cement and aluminum bashed open
their skulls and ate up their brains and imagination?
Moloch! Solitude! Filth! Ugliness! Ashcans and unob
tainable dollars! Children screaming under the
stairways! Boys sobbing in armies! Old men
weeping in the parks!
Moloch! Moloch! Nightmare of Moloch! Moloch the
loveless! Mental Moloch! Moloch the heavy
judger of men!
Moloch the incomprehensible prison! Moloch the
crossbone soulless jailhouse and Congress of
sorrows! Moloch whose buildings are judgment!
Moloch the vast stone of war! Moloch the stunned governments!
Moloch whose mind is pure machinery! Moloch whose
blood is running money! Moloch whose fingers
are ten armies! Moloch whose breast is a cannibal dynamo!
Moloch whose ear is a smoking tomb!
Moloch whose eyes are a thousand blind windows!
Moloch whose skyscrapers stand in the long
streets like endless Jehovahs! Moloch whose factories
dream and croak in the fog! Moloch whose
smokestacks and antennae crown the cities!
Moloch whose love is endless oil and stone! Moloch
whose soul is electricity and banks! Moloch
whose poverty is the specter of genius! Moloch
whose fate is a cloud of sexless hydrogen!
Moloch whose name is the Mind!
Moloch in whom I sit lonely! Moloch in whom I dream
Angels! Crazy in Moloch! Cocksucker in
Moloch! Lacklove and manless in Moloch!
Moloch who entered my soul early! Moloch in whom
I am a consciousness without a body! Moloch
who frightened me out of my natural ecstasy!
Moloch whom I abandon! Wake up in Moloch!
Light streaming out of the sky!
Moloch! Moloch! Robot apartments! invisible suburbs!
skeleton treasuries! blind capitals! demonic
industries! spectral nations! invincible mad
houses! granite cocks! monstrous bombs!
They broke their backs lifting Moloch to Heaven! Pave-
ments, trees, radios, tons! lifting the city to
Heaven which exists and is everywhere about us!
Visions! omens! hallucinations! miracles! ecstasies!
gone down the American river!
Dreams! adorations! illuminations! religions! the whole
boatload of sensitive bullshit!
Breakthroughs! over the river! flips and crucifixions!
gone down the flood! Highs! Epiphanies! Despairs!
Ten years' animal screams and suicides!
Minds! New loves! Mad generation! down on
the rocks of Time!
Real holy laughter in the river! They saw it all! the
wild eyes! the holy yells! They bade farewell!
They jumped off the roof! to solitude! waving!
carrying flowers! Down to the river! into the street!
Carl Solomon! I'm with you in Rockland
where you're madder than I am
I'm with you in Rockland
where you must feel very strange
I'm with you in Rockland
where you imitate the shade of my mother
I'm with you in Rockland
where you've murdered your twelve secretaries
I'm with you in Rockland
where you laugh at this invisible humor
I'm with you in Rockland
where we are great writers on the same dreadful typewriter
I'm with you in Rockland
where your condition has become serious and
is reported on the radio
I'm with you in Rockland
where the faculties of the skull no longer admit
the worms of the senses
I'm with you in Rockland
where you drink the tea of the breasts of the
spinsters of Utica
I'm with you in Rockland
where you pun on the bodies of your nurses the
harpies of the Bronx
I'm with you in Rockland
where you scream in a straightjacket that you're
losing the game of the actual pingpong of the abyss
I'm with you in Rockland
where you bang on the catatonic piano the soul
is innocent and immortal it should never die
ungodly in an armed madhouse
I'm with you in Rockland
where fifty more shocks will never return your
soul to its body again from its pilgrimage to a
cross in the void
I'm with you in Rockland
where you accuse your doctors of insanity and
plot the Hebrew socialist revolution against the
fascist national Golgotha
I'm with you in Rockland
where you will split the heavens of Long Island
and resurrect your living human Jesus from the
superhuman tomb
I'm with you in Rockland
where there are twenty-five-thousand mad com-
rades all together singing the final stanzas of
the Internationale
I'm with you in Rockland
where we hug and kiss the United States under
our bedsheets the United States that coughs all
night and won't let us sleep
I'm with you in Rockland
where we wake up electrified out of the coma
by our own souls' airplanes roaring over the
roof they've come to drop angelic bombs the
hospital illuminates itself imaginary walls collapse
O skinny legions run outside O starry
spangled shock of mercy the eternal war is
here O victory forget your underwear we're free
I'm with you in Rockland
in my dreams you walk dripping from a sea-
journey on the highway across America in tears
to the door of my cottage in the Western night
【Notes】
嚎叫：原诗分三部，这里译载了第一部，并作了些删节。标点分行按原诗排照（译者）。
希普斯特：美国存在主义者的一种称号。
仙人掌素，苯甲胺：均为幻觉剂。
普罗提纳斯：埃及新柏拉图主义哲学家（公元205-270）。
坡：美国诗人、小说家（1809-1849）。诗风神秘怪诞，首创推理小说，现代派文学远祖之一。
圣约翰：西班牙神学博士、著名抒情诗人（1542-1591）。曾因改革神学而惨遭迫害，其诗作以抒情和神秘为特色。
阿尔卡特拉兹：一所联邦监狱。
普鲁士：哀怨的爵士歌曲。
"Howl" is a poem written by Allen Ginsberg in 1955 and published as part of his 1956 collection of poetry titled Howl and Other Poems. The poem is considered to be one of the great works of the Beat Generation, along with Jack Kerouac’s On the Road (1957) and William S. Burroughs’s Naked Lunch (1959). "Howl" was written as a performance piece and later published by poet Lawrence Ferlinghetti of City Lights Books. Upon its release, Ferlinghetti and the bookstore's manager, Shigeyoshi Murao, were charged with disseminating obscene literature, and both were arrested. On October 3, 1957, Judge Clayton W. Horn ruled that the poem was not obscene, and "Howl" went on to become the most popular poem of the Beat Generation.
America I've given you all and now I'm nothing.
America two dollars and twentyseven cents January
17, 1956.
I can't stand my own mind.
America when will we end the human war?
Go * yourself with your atom bomb.
I don't feel good don't bother me.
I won't write my poem till I'm in my right mind.
America when will you be angelic?
When will you take off your clothes?
When will you look at yourself through the grave?
When will you be worthy of your million Trotskyites?
America why are your libraries full of tears?
America when will you send your eggs to India?
I'm sick of your insane demands.
When can I go into the supermarket and buy what I
need with my good looks?
America after all it is you and I who are perfect not
the next world.
Your machinery is too much for me.
You made me want to be a saint.
There must be some other way to settle this argument.
Burroughs is in Tangiers I don't think he'll come back
it's sinister.
Are you being sinister or is this some form of practical
joke?
I'm trying to come to the point.
I refuse to give up my obsession.
America stop pushing I know what I'm doing.
America the plum blossoms are falling.
I haven't read the newspapers for months, everyday
somebody goes on trial for murder.
America I feel sentimental about the Wobblies.
America I used to be a communist when I was a kid
I'm not sorry.
I smoke marijuana every chance I get.
I sit in my house for days on end and stare at the roses
in the closet.
When I go to Chinatown I get drunk and never get laid.
My mind is made up there's going to be trouble.
You should have seen me reading Marx.
My psychoanalyst thinks I'm perfectly right.
I won't say the Lord's Prayer.
I have mystical visions and cosmic vibrations.
America I still haven't told you what you did to Uncle
Max after he came over from Russia.
I'm addressing you.
Are you going to let your emotional life be run by
Time Magazine?
I'm obsessed by Time Magazine.
I read it every week.
Its cover stares at me every time I slink past the corner
candystore.
I read it in the basement of the Berkeley Public Library.
It's always telling me about responsibility. Business-
men are serious. Movie producers are serious.
Everybody's serious but me.
It occurs to me that I am America.
I am talking to myself again.
Asia is rising against me.
I haven't got a chinaman's chance.
I'd better consider my national resources.
My national resources consist of two joints of
marijuana millions of genitals an unpublishable
private literature that goes 1400 miles an hour
and twenty-five-thousand mental institutions.
I say nothing about my prisons nor the millions of
underprivileged who live in my flowerpots
under the light of five hundred suns.
I have abolished the whorehouses of France, Tangiers
is the next to go.
My ambition is to be President despite the fact that
I'm a Catholic.
America how can I write a holy litany in your silly
mood?
I will continue like Henry Ford my strophes are as
individual as his automobiles more so they're
all different *es.
America I will sell you strophes $2500 apiece $500
down on your old strophe
America free Tom Mooney
America save the Spanish Loyalists
America Sacco & Vanzetti must not die
America I am the Scottsboro boys.
America when I was seven momma took me to Com-
munist Cell meetings they sold us garbanzos a
handful per ticket a ticket costs a nickel and the
speeches were free everybody was angelic and
sentimental about the workers it was all so sin-
cere you have no idea what a good thing the
party was in 1835 Scott Nearing was a grand
old man a real mensch Mother Bloor made me
cry I once saw Israel Amter plain. Everybody
must have been a spy.
America you don't really want to go to war.
America it's them bad Russians.
Them Russians them Russians and them Chinamen.
And them Russians.
The Russia wants to eat us alive. The Russia's power
mad. She wants to take our cars from out our
garages.
Her wants to grab Chicago. Her needs a Red Readers'
Digest. Her wants our auto plants in Siberia.
Him big bureaucracy running our fillingsta-
tions.
That no good. Ugh. Him make Indians learn read.
Him need big black niggers. Hah. Her make us
all work sixteen hours a day. Help.
America this is quite serious.
America this is the impression I get from looking in
the television set.
America is this correct?
I'd better get right down to the job.
It's true I don't want to join the Army or turn lathes
in precision parts factories, I'm nearsighted and
psychopathic anyway.
America I'm putting my queer shoulder to the wheel.
When I die
I don't care what happens to my body
throw ashes in the air, scatter 'em in East River
bury an urn in Elizabeth New Jersey, B'nai Israel Cemetery
But l want a big funeral
St. Patrick's Cathedral, St. Mark's Church, the largest synagogue in
Manhattan
First, there's family, brother, nephews, spry aged Edith stepmother
96, Aunt Honey from old Newark,
Doctor Joel, cousin Mindy, brother Gene one eyed one ear'd, sister-
in-law blonde Connie, five nephews, stepbrothers & sisters
their grandchildren,
companion Peter Orlovsky, caretakers Rosenthal & Hale, Bill Morgan--
Next, teacher Trungpa Vajracharya's ghost mind, Gelek Rinpoche,
there Sakyong Mipham, Dalai Lama alert, chance visiting
America, Satchitananda Swami
Shivananda, Dehorahava Baba, Karmapa XVI, Dudjom Rinpoche,
Katagiri & Suzuki Roshi's phantoms
Baker, Whalen, Daido Loorie, Qwong, Frail White-haired Kapleau
Roshis, Lama Tarchen --
Then, most important, lovers over half-century
Dozens, a hundred, more, older fellows bald & rich
young boys met naked recently in bed, crowds surprised to see each
other, innumerable, intimate, exchanging memories
"He taught me to meditate, now I'm an old veteran of the thousand
day retreat --"
"I played music on subway platforms, I'm straight but loved him he
loved me"
"I felt more love from him at 19 than ever from anyone"
"We'd lie under covers gossip, read my poetry, hug & kiss belly to belly
arms round each other"
"I'd always get into his bed with underwear on & by morning my
skivvies would be on the floor"
"Japanese, always wanted take it up my bum with a master"
"We'd talk all night about Kerouac & Cassady sit Buddhalike then
sleep in his captain's bed."
"He seemed to need so much affection, a shame not to make him happy"
"I was lonely never in bed nude with anyone before, he was so gentle my
stomach
shuddered when he traced his finger along my abdomen nipple to hips-- "
"All I did was lay back eyes closed, he'd bring me to come with mouth
& fingers along my waist"
"He gave great head"
So there be gossip from loves of 1948, ghost of Neal Cassady commin-
gling with flesh and youthful blood of 1997
and surprise -- "You too? But I thought you were straight!"
"I am but Ginsberg an exception, for some reason he pleased me."
"I forgot whether I was straight gay queer or funny, was myself, tender
and affectionate to be kissed on the top of my head,
my forehead throat heart & solar plexus, mid-belly. on my prick,
tickled with his tongue my behind"
"I loved the way he'd recite 'But at my back allways hear/ time's winged
chariot hurrying near,' heads together, eye to eye, on a
pillow --"
Among lovers one handsome youth straggling the rear
"I studied his poetry class, 17 year-old kid, ran some errands to his
walk-up flat,
seduced me didn't want to, made me come, went home, never saw him
again never wanted to... "
"He couldn't get it up but loved me," "A clean old man." "He made
sure I came first"
This the crowd most surprised proud at ceremonial place of honor--
Then poets & musicians -- college boys' grunge bands -- age-old rock
star Beatles, faithful guitar accompanists, gay classical con-
ductors, unknown high Jazz music composers, funky trum-
peters, bowed bass & french horn black geniuses, folksinger
fiddlers with dobro tamborine harmonica mandolin auto-
harp pennywhistles & kazoos
Next, artist Italian romantic realists schooled in mystic 60's India,
Late fauve Tuscan painter-poets, Classic draftsman Massa-
chusets surreal jackanapes with continental wives, poverty
sketchbook gesso oil watercolor masters from American
provinces
Then highschool teachers, lonely Irish librarians, delicate biblio-
philes, sex liberation troops nay armies, ladies of either sex
"I met him dozens of times he never remembered my name I loved
him anyway, true artist"
"Nervous breakdown after menopause, his poetry humor saved me
from suicide hospitals"
"Charmant, genius with modest manners, washed sink, dishes my
studio guest a week in Budapest"
Thousands of readers, "Howl changed my life in Libertyville Illinois"
"I saw him read Montclair State Teachers College decided be a poet-- "
"He turned me on, I started with garage rock sang my songs in Kansas
City"
"Kaddish made me weep for myself & father alive in Nevada City"
"Father Death comforted me when my sister died Boston l982"
"I read what he said in a newsmagazine, blew my mind, realized
others like me out there"
Deaf & Dumb bards with hand signing quick brilliant gestures
Then Journalists, editors's secretaries, agents, portraitists & photo-
graphy aficionados, rock critics, cultured laborors, cultural
historians come to witness the historic funeral
Super-fans, poetasters, aging Beatnicks & Deadheads, autograph-
hunters, distinguished paparazzi, intelligent gawkers
Everyone knew they were part of 'History" except the deceased
who never knew exactly what was happening even when I was alive
February 22, 1997