安妮．塞克斯顿（ANNE SEXTON，1928─1974）1974年10月4日自杀。
《产科病房里的无名女婴》
孩子，现在你呼吸已有六天了。
你躺着，我白色的床上的一个小指；
躺着，蜗牛一样蜷起，这么小这么
渴望我的乳房。你的唇像野兽；
你用爱哺育。最初的饥饿不是错。
护士们点着头；你被照看
和其他没家的一起，被有轮的篮子
推到古板的大厅里。你像杯子一样倾斜；你的头
因我的触摸而移动。你以属于我们的方式来感受
但这是一张孤儿院的床。
你很久都不会认识我。
医生是搪瓷。他们想知道真相。
他们猜测丢下我的男人，
有钟摆的灵魂，以男人的方式行事
留下完全是孩子的你。但我们的病历
是空白。我做的一切是让你长大。
现在我们在这里让全病房的人看。
他们认为我很奇怪，虽然
我没说过一句话。我充盈你的
空虚，让你了解空气为什么这样。
医生们把我的谜画成图表，他们询问我
而我把脸转开。我不知道。
你的脸是我唯一认识的脸。
骨头靠着我的骨头，你饮进我的回答。
一天六次我奖赏你的需要，
你唇的野兽，你的皮肤
变得温暖而丰满。我看见你的眼睛
抬起了它们的帐篷。它们是蓝色的石头，
开始长出青苔。你惊奇地眨眼
我好奇你能看见什么，我的小亲亲，
你扰乱了我的沉默。我是谎言的庇护所
我是否应该重新学习说话，或者无望地
明智地触摸某张我认识的脸？
篮子们又从大厅回来了。我的双臂
像袖子适合你，它们抱住
你的柳絮，你神经的野蜂农场
你最初的日子的每块肌肉
每个皱摺。你老人的脸使护士们
缴械。但是医生又回来叱责我。
我说话了。是你伤害了我的沉默。
我早该明白；我早该告诉
他们写下什么。我的声音警告
我的喉咙。"父名──没有。"
我抱着你在我的怀中命名你为私生子。
既然已经如此。再没有什么
我能说出或者失去。
别人在以前已经出卖了生命
不能讲话。我紧张地拒绝
你猫头鹰似的眼睛，我脆弱的访客。
我抚摸你的脸颊，像花朵。
你挫伤了我。我们还不熟练。我是支柱
摇晃你。你因我而破碎。我选择
你唯一的方式，我的小继承人
把你交出，我们失去了颤抖的袖子。
去吧孩子，你仅仅是我的罪过。
- posted on 02/25/2004
In our new society there is a growing dislike of original, creative men. The manipulated do not understand them; the manipulators fear them. The tidy committee men regard them with horror, knowing that no pigeonholes can be found for them. We could do with a few original, creative men in our political life --if only to create some enthusiasm, release some energy --but where are they?
We are asked to choose between various shades of the negative. The engine is falling to pieces while the joint owners of the car argue whether the footbrake or the handbrake should be applied. Notice how the cold, colourless men, without ideas and with no other passion but a craving for success, get on in this society, capturing one plum after another and taking the juice and taste out of them.
Sometimes you might think the machines we worship make all the chief appointments, promoting the human beings who seem closest to them. Between midnight and dawn, when sleep will not come and all the old wounds begin to ache, I often have a nightmare vision of a future world in which there are billions of people, all numbered and registered, with not a gleam of genius anywhere, not an orginal mind, a rich personality, on the while packed globe. The twin idealsof our time, organization and quantity, will have won for ever.
J.B. Priestley --Thoughts in the Wilderness
====
This is one paragraph from New Concept English, sometimes I feel it's
my modern English bible. Jewish and Anglo business men create this
some system, besides, the Anglo-Saxon Gentlemen's minds are clear
like Buddha, crystal clean....
Why ? If one have time to research the universe, the plant morphology and animal behaviour, anthropology --to set the human society as a model, how can he be trapped into those something called class and
some called interests.... - Re: Thoughts in the Wilderness - J.B. Priestleyposted on 02/26/2004
Very good !
Even genuinely happy men/women are rare. Many people have nothing but a desire to survive or get by. Marriage and job are too costly.
Love, youth, passion, creativity, laugh, beauty, kindness ... Cheers !
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