Tuesday, October 11, 2005

Love After Love - Derek Walcott


The day will come
when with elation you will greet yourself
arriving at your own door
in your own mirror
and each will smile at the other's welcome,
saying, 'Sit here. Eat. You will love again
the stranger who was yourself.'

Give wine, give bread
give back your heart to itself
to the stranger who has loved you
all your life
whom you ignored for another
who knows you by heart.

Take down the love letters from the bookshelf
the photographs
the desperate notes
peel your own image from the mirror.
Sit. Feast on your life

愛之後的愛 - 德里克-沃爾科特

會有一天
你會歡天喜地歡迎你自己
來到你的門前
出現在你自己的鏡子裏
你們會爲了彼此的歡迎,微笑
說,“坐下。請吃。你還會愛
那個是你自己的陌生人”

紅酒,麵包
心都捧給自己
給那個一生愛你的
陌生人
那个你为了另一个人而忽略的
那個深深地理解你的人。

把情書
把照片
把絕望的信從書架拿下
把自己的影子從鏡子取下
坐下。品嘗你的人生。

Monday, October 10, 2005

untitled - liquified visions ~2005


summer
clouds melt
away with dew
running from the
rising sun. fear

not
for you
and i will
make it through.
take hold and promise

to
never
let go.
in the end
it is just you and
I that will walk
from this side to

the
next.
just take
my hand and
I will guide you
all the way home

無題

露水從升起
的太陽
流下,把夏天的
雲朵融化
別怕

因爲你和我
將會一起
度過。
握住

我的手,
答應我
你永不會
放掉。最後

只有你
和我一起會
走到另一邊。
握住

我的手。我會
指引

回家

Sunday, October 09, 2005

Fields of Soria - Antonio Machado


Hills of silver plate,
grey heights, dark red rocks
through which the Duero bends
its crossbow arc
round Soria, shadowed oaks,
stone dry-lands, naked mountains,
white roads and river poplars,
twilights of Soria, warlike and mystical,
today I feel, for you,
in my hearts depths, sadness,
sadness of love! Fields of Soria,
where it seems the stones have dreams,
you go with me! Hills of silver plate,
grey heights, dark red rocks.

Thursday, October 06, 2005

My Indigo - Li-Young Lee



It's late. I've come
to find the flower which blossoms
like a saint dying upside down.
The rose won't do, nor the iris.
I've come to find the moody one, the shy one,
downcast, grave, and isolated.
Now, blackness gathers in the grass,
and I am on my hands and knees.
What is its name?

Little sister, my indigo,
my secret, vaginal and sweet,
you unfurl yourself shamelessly
toward the ground. You burn. You live
a while in two worlds
at once.

wild indigo bush

我的青黛 - 李立楊

太遲了。我來
找那朵開的花
向顛倒著死的聖人
玫瑰不行,鳶尾花也不行
我想找(那朵)感性的,怕羞的,
憔悴,嚴肅,孤清的
現在,草叢內只剩下黑色一片
我跪下了
它的名字叫什麽呢?

小妹,我的青黛
我的秘密,陰沉而甜蜜,
你不怕羞的
向地展開。你燃燒。你同時在
兩個世界
活了一會兒。

Young in New Orleans - Charles Bukowski



starving there, sitting around the bars,
and at night walking the streets for hours,
the moonlight always seemed fake
to me, mabye it was,
and in the French Quarter I watched
the horses and buggies going by,
everybody sitting high in the open
carriages, the black driver, and in
back the man and the woman,
usually young and always white.
and I was always white.
and hardly charmed by the
world.
New Orleans was a place to
hide.
I could piss away my life,
unmolested.
except for the rats.
the rats in my small dark room
very much resented sharing it
with me.
they were large and fearless
and stared at me with eyes
that spoke
an unblinking
death.
women were beyond me.
they saw something
depraved.
there was one waitress
a little older than
I, she rather smiled,
lingered when she
brought my
coffee.
that was plenty for
me, that was
enough.
there was something about
that city, though:
it didn't let me feel guilty
that I had no feeling for the
things so many others
needed.
it let me alone.
sitting up in my bed
the lights out,
hearing the outside
sounds,
lifting my cheap
bottle of wine,
letting the warmth of
the grape
enter
]me
as I heard the rats
moving about the
room,
I preferred them
to
humans.
being lost,
being crazy mabye
is not so bad
if you can be
that way:
undisturbed.
New Orleans gave me
that.
nobody ever called
my name.
no telephone,
no car,
no job,
no anything.
me and the
rats
and my youth,
one time,
that time
I knew
even through the
nothingness,
it was a
celebration
of something not to
do
but only
know.

年輕人在紐奧蘭 - 布考斯基

快餓死了,又整天坐在酒吧裏
晚上一個連一個小時在街上走
月光在我的眼裏
好似假的, 可能真的是,
在(法國區)我看
馬和車廂經過,
所有人坐在高高的open carriages,
黑人司機,
坐在後面是一對男女,
大部分是年輕,
總是白人。
我也總是白的。
對我來説世界沒有魅力了
紐奧蘭是一個用來躲藏得地方
我可以讓我的生活(漸漸消失),
沒人管/理我
除了老鼠
老鼠在我細小黑暗房間裏
很討厭和我
分享。
他們很大個,什麽都不怕
用眼睛不眨地看著我
(不能逃避的死亡。)
女人是我
women were beyond me.
they saw something depraved
有一個侍者,
比我大一點,
她端咖啡給我的時候
逗留一下子,
微笑了。(cafe)
那已經足夠了。
這個城市有些
特別之処(?)
他沒有使我感到罪疚
我對別人需要的東西
都沒有感覺
他讓我自由自在
坐在床上
燈滅了
聼著外面的聲音,
擡起我便宜的
一瓶紅酒,
讓葡萄的
溫暖
滲透
我的全身
我聼到老鼠
在房間裏
動靜,
比起人類我更
喜歡他們。
迷失了,
瘋狂了可能
不是那麽大的問題
如果你可以
這樣子:
沒人打擾。
紐奧蘭給我了
這些
沒有人叫
我的名字。
沒有電話,
沒有汽車,
沒有工作,
一切都沒有。
我和那些
老鼠
和我的青春,
一次,
那時
我知道
even through the
nothingness,
是慶祝
有些只需要知道的
不需要做
的事情

Love Rain (Mos Def Remix) - Mos Def ~2002


And then she arrived
Like day break inside a railway tunnel
Like the new moon, like a diamond in the mines
Like high noon to a drunkard, sudden
She made my heart beat in a now-now time signature
Her skin a canvas for ultraviolet brushstrokes
She was the sun's painting
She was a deep cognac color
Her eyes sparkled like lights along the new city
Her lips pursed as if her breath was too sweet
And full for her mouth to hold
I said, "You are beautiful, distress of mathematics."
I said, "For you, I would peel open the clouds like new fruit
And give you lightning and thunder as dowry
I would make the sky shed all of its stars like rain
I would clasp the constellations around your waist
And I would make the heavens your cape
And they would be pleased to cover you
They would be pleased to cover you
May I please, cover you, please."

Wednesday, October 05, 2005

poets i will be translating

Goethe

Carl Sandburg

Ursula Rucker

Neruda

Bukowski

Mos Def

Ursula Rucker

Ntozake Shange

Nikki Giovanni

Langston Hughes

Black Ice

Sunday, October 02, 2005

GREEN #4 - Sky Gilbert ~1998

Green, Verdi, vermilion, vert. Grass leaves weeds eyes, a great composer
dies, Il Travatore, a whore, she talks dirty, she loves a young guy, she
dies, she dies too soon, she dies before, before she should, we pity her,
she coughs, she calls him to, to her bed, her dirty bed, her infected bed,
she says I love, I still love, cough, I'm glad I loved, it's okay I loved,
he says I, I do too, this part is ugly, it's not pretty, the music is
pretty, the blood is red, she kissed his foot, the dirty whore, the whore is
bleeding, the music is red, the boy is green, she kissed him then, she
kissed him when, you can dress up a whore, and paint her eyes, she's still a
whore, someone pissed on the whore, she's bleeding now, now she loves, loves
the boy, boy is green, can't go back, whore is now, bleeding red, red is
green, green knows not, red knows all, curtain is torn, earring is found,
all that's left, leave the whore, she loves you still, for you're green, and
green is good, and red is bad, except to green, oh for god's, sake you
found, found god
in, green that's okay, better to love, the green and die, there's always
blood, just don't look, know it's there, look in his eyes, green and die.

whore love green red die god.
god green love red whore die.
die red whore love green god.
red whore love green god die.
God die! Green love red whore.

Green.


From: Digressions of a Naked party Girl, ECW Press, 1998

Saturday, October 01, 2005

A Story - Li-Young Lee

Sad is the man who is asked for a story
and can't come up with one.

His five-year-old son waits in his lap.
Not the same story, Baba. A new one.
The man rubs his chin, scratches his ear.

In a room full of books in a world
of stories, he can recall
not one, and soon, he thinks, the boy
will give up on his father.

Already the man lives far ahead, he sees
the day this boy will go. Don't go!
Hear the alligator story! The angel story once more!
You love the spider story. You laugh at the spider.
Let me tell it!


But the boy is packing his shirts,
he is looking for his keys. Are you a god,
the man screams, that I sit mute before you?
Am I a god that I should never disappoint?


But the boy is here. Please, Baba, a story?
It is an emotional rather than logical equation,
an earthly rather than heavenly one,
which posits that a boy's supplications
and a father's love add up to silence.