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hunter560 发表于 2010-03-06 09:41 | | 星期六(Saturday)
May Morning 五月之晨 --James Wright詹姆斯•怀特
Deep into spring, winter is hanging on.
Bitter and skillful in his hopelessness, he stays alive in every shady place, starving along the Mediterranean: angry to see the glittering sea-pale boulder alive with lizards green as Judas leaves.
Winter is hanging on.
He still believes.
He tries to catch a lizard by the shoulder.
One olive tree below Grottaglie1 welcomes the winter into noontime shade, and talks as softly as Pythagoras2.
Be still, be patient, I can hear him say, cradling in his arms the wounded head, letting the sunlight touch the savage face
1. Grottaglie：[地名] [意大利] 格罗塔列
hunter560 发表于 2010-02-02 08:49 | | 星期二(Tuesday)
Epitaph墓志铭 --James Wright詹姆斯 怀特
The grass keeps on growing as
The moss covers my name.
Everyone can carry on without me.
I know all of God's little secrets.
Sinking further down or
Floating further up.
Dissapearing from you.
I was gone decades ago.
A broken circle of communication,
I am the end.
I hear no pain of mourning.
There are no tears to moisten my soil.
Gripped with regret, I decay
Drifting further away.
Never known for evil,
Never known for good.
My glory days were given away.
I rot in the pit of your memories.
hunter560 发表于 2007-12-28 15:42 | | 星期五(Friday)
Trying to Pray 祈祷 --James Wright
This time, I have left my body behind me, crying
In its dark thorns.
There are good things in this world.
It is dusk.
It is the good darkness
Of women's hands that touch loaves.
The spirit of a tree begins to move.
I touch leaves.
I close my eyes and think of water.
hunter560 发表于 2007-09-23 20:54 | | 星期日(Sunday)
Small Frogs Killed On The Highway 公路上轧死的小青蛙们
I would leap too
Into the light,
If I had the chance.
It is everything, the wet green stalk of the field
On the other side of the road.
They crouch there, too, faltering in terror
And take strange wing. Many
Of the dead never moved, but many
Of the dead are alive forever in the split second
Auto headlights more sudden
Than their drivers know.
hunter560 发表于 2007-09-20 16:24 | | 星期四(Thursday)
To a Blossoming Pear Tree 致开花的梨树 -James Wright
Beautiful natural blossoms,
Pure delicate body,
You stand without trembling.
Little mist of fallen starlight,
Perfect, beyond my reach,
How I envy you.
For if you could only listen,
I would tell you something,
An old man
Appeared to me once
hunter560 发表于 2007-09-16 08:30 | | 星期日(Sunday)
Fear Is What Quickens Me 惊恐 --James Wright
Many animals that our fathers killed in America
Had quick eyes.
They stared about wildly,
When the moon went dark.
The new moon falls into the freight yards
Of cities in the south,
But the loss of the moon to the dark hands of Chicago
Does not matter to the deer
In this northern field.
hunter560 发表于 2007-09-07 09:54 | | 星期五(Friday)
Depressed by a Book of Bad Poetry, I Walk Toward an Unused Pasture and Invite the Insects to Join Me
Relieved, I let the book fall behind a stone.
I climb a slight rise of grass.
I do not want to disturb the ants
Who are walking single file up the fence post,
Carrying small white petals,
Casting shadows so frail that I can see through them.
I close my eyes for a moment and listen.
The old grasshoppers
hunter560 发表于 2007-09-01 10:09 | | 星期六(Saturday)
The Jewel 宝石--James Wright
There is this cave
In the air behind my body
That nobody is going to touch:
A cloister, a silence
Closing around a blossom of fire.
When I stand upright in the wind,
My bones turn to dark emeralds.
hunter560 发表于 2007-08-20 09:46 | | 星期一(Monday)
Having Lost My Sons, I Confront the Wreckage of the Moon: Christmas, 1960
丧失了儿子，我面对月亮的废墟：1960年圣诞 --James Wright
Near the South Dakota border,
The moon is out hunting, everywhere,
And walking down hallways
Of a diamond.
Behind a tree,
It lights on the ruins
Of a white city
hunter560 发表于 2007-08-18 09:39 | | 星期六(Saturday)
Beginning开始 -James Wright
The moon drops one or two feathers into the fiels.
The dark wheat listens.
There they are, the moon's young, trying
Between trees, a slender woman lifts up the lovely shadow
Of her face, and now she steps into the air, now she is gone
Wholly, into the air.
I stand alone by an elder tree, I do not dare breathe
The wheat leans back toward its own darkness,
hunter560 发表于 2007-08-17 09:37 | | 星期五(Friday)
LATE NOVEMBER IN A FIELD 十一月底的田野 --James Wright
Today I am walking alone in a bare place,
And winter is here.
Two squirrels near a fence post
Are helping each other drag a branch
Toward a hiding place; it must be somewhere
Behind those ash trees.
They are still alive, they ought to save acorns
Against the cold.
Frail paws rifle the troughs between cornstalks when the moon
Is looking away.
The earth is hard now,
The soles of my shoes need repairs.