ܵĿg
Chaque homme, porte en lui un monde compos de tout ce qu'il
a vu et aim, et o il rentre sans cesse, alors mme qu'il parcourt
et semble habiter un monde tranger. --- Chateaubriand
̫ԭʼɭ
ľ
Ѹ֦F
ڴ
Ғ
ēЩs
۱
Կvũoǰ
Թ̵Ŀg
һO
ڌҒ
dzp늩pͫF
Nס|
ֵ֑ėʬ
ݵ۾
vSȵչ
ڤ˼Ŀɮ
ĤEEE
XѩoQ
gĺ
--ע
ӡ^ȥ
zȡZ--
oڴg
wű˽
Qc
鹝c鹝
缴KYu
Yߩs
OocĹѨ
Ĺ
һňAߴ
b̖
ڤ˼o^
@}ĵ
ϹS
犹ĩpѬp
ȼ]ĕ
`ɴˏK
СС
څRһƬһƬg
Ľ
_ڵĸ
ܡ
ؽɄӵ
ӯǰv
ڤ
ȻɞɵĹ
_؟oĝ
Ϣӿo
ӛӿoĬp
˼p־ӿo
`pZԩpQӿo
ՏӿpةpˮppL
ӿopɶYp
}ӿoǧp
gpȻf
ڏӿE
08/07/07
===
дĸԭʡϵĿռ䣬ִϵĿ
дҸϲʷ˾ѿռеʫ飬Ȼռ
ǽܹġ
ɰĻܹΪԣҾöij˼⡣
Ķ಼ﰺģ
ÿ϶Яһ磬һɣʹ
һСԲͣػصԼС
еġܡֱԴڡׯӡ
ˡ
- Re: 死神曼衍的空殓posted on 08/17/2007
That's right. People just can't live in the world. They live in their own worlds. In another word, we all carry our portable little worlds everywhere.
xw wrote:
Ķ಼ﰺģ
ÿ϶Яһ磬һɣʹ
һСԲͣػصԼС - Re: 死神曼衍的空殓posted on 08/18/2007
xw, I like this poem.
I'd view our little worlds as rough mirrors which reflect the big world with each own distortion.
Wondering if it all possible for two to share their worlds? Or at least to peek into each other's? - posted on 08/18/2007
Ҷʲô"""Į", ԭ"""Ĥ"?
Ҿʫе˼Ϊ: Ϊ˱ĽǶڽ. Ȼ, ڽ̵Ϊܾӵ.
ƺе. ʵ, һʫ, ֳ. ʲô? ʲô? ҵΪǰЩд""Щ.
ڽ̲IJ. 㲻ôΪ, ʵһ. һ, û߽, ô㻹ڸۻ, ̸˽.
ʫҪĸ. ʫ, Ĺ۵̫"", ڸ֮. :)
ڿ, ʱ, ҶԺЩй. ҵⲻ"", :), ϣЩԴǶһЩʵİ. ϣDzҪ. ǶƵĽ, ֶԻĻ˼, ĸ, ϲѧ. , ǻкܶԵ뷨. Ƿر, ֶƲ. , ҳΪһССľ, һЩҵ, Dzο. Ҳӭǽһǵ뷨. ǽһ.
ȷʵܻʱ. Ҳæ. Ҳپ. Ҷౣ. ǶǺ˲, Һϲ. :)
ϧʱ, ӣ, ˰Ž. ഺ, ʵDz֪ڻӻʱ, һδ֮ػƮƮԶȥ.
- Re: 死神曼衍的空殓posted on 08/18/2007
Ƚ wrote:
ڽ̲IJ. 㲻ôΪ, ʵһ.
xwŷ𣬾߰Ϲ˵˵xwԭ¡
ʫҪĸ. ʫ, Ĺ۵̫"", ڸ֮. :)
ûԵĸ㲻飿xwʫʵܶһ֣ϲġҲʫ
- Re: 死神曼衍的空殓posted on 08/18/2007
˵һ, ʫ, ҿXWŷ. Ҳо̾.
""ڶϵ. ʫ˵: "ɮĤ......". , ɮĤݵIJ, ŷ˾ôΪ. , Ϊһ""? ʫڱ""?
- Re: 死神曼衍的空殓posted on 08/18/2007
ʫǿxwŵʲôһ쵽ҲŷİɣŷܿxwDzᶨʲôҪо
˵ġҵ⣬ҲȷĶ壬Ҳ֪ҸоҲǹģ㡰ӡxwдԼ̽⣬Ǵиоһաֵм䣬Ҹоֵĺ棨пܵģҲǿģ˵ҲʫԲģҲͲжʫȽMMʫ˵ıҪжߣ
- posted on 08/18/2007
Ƚ wrote:
Ҷʲô"""Į", ԭ"""Ĥ"?
ллȽȵķ
"Į"ˣܡɲáׯӡԭ⣬ȡܡ
ܡһЩй뾫ԡ
˵ʵڵģдʱռ䣬дһҪѼʮǵú
˵Ȱأؼܡ
ӦȰʱܡ
Ҿʫе˼Ϊ: Ϊ˱ĽǶڽ. Ȼ, ڽ̵Ϊܾӵ.
е˼ͨƪδἰڽ̡˵ġδ롱ɡ
ƺе. ʵ, һʫ, ֳ. ʲô? ʲô? ҵΪǰЩд""Щ.
ϲһڤ˼ܵɶʫ˼ʫǡ˼
ллԡ족İ塣
ڽ̲IJ. 㲻ôΪ, ʵһ. һ, û߽, ô㻹ڸۻ, ̸˽.
Աǰͼ״߸һЩİʾͽӽ
ͨˣܴıʣ
֮ѡ
ʫҪĸ. ʫ, Ĺ۵̫"", ڸ֮. :)
ѧϰʥ˹˵ʫת˼ְ
ڿ, ʱ, ҶԺЩй. ҵⲻ"", :), ϣЩԴǶһЩʵİ. ϣDzҪ. ǶƵĽ, ֶԻĻ˼, ĸ, ϲѧ. , ǻкܶԵ뷨. Ƿر, ֶƲ. , ҳΪһССľ, һЩҵ, Dzο. Ҳӭǽһǵ뷨. ǽһ.
лл٣еСӪ
ʶܱ
ȷʵܻʱ. Ҳæ. Ҳپ. Ҷౣ. ǶǺ˲, Һϲ. :)
ϧʱ, ӣ, ˰Ž. ʱDzٻӻ, ʶһʱ, ̾Ϣ, ֪ҵഺʹ˱. ഺ, ʵDz֪ڻӻʱ, һδѹƮƮԶȥ.
ʵֹഺʫԵĹǺܿɹġ
Ԩɾɽ£ʮ˰ɣ
Ƚأ - Re: 死神曼衍的空殓posted on 08/18/2007
Ƚ wrote:
""ڶϵ. ʫ˵: "ɮĤ......". , ɮĤݵIJ, ŷ˾ôΪ. , Ϊһ""? ʫڱ""?
̲ԿƣҲ xw ĿɮָӡȽɮ¡ȿǰӡȽ̿ɮС
xw ʫҲûܸо˼Ҳ¡˺Ļֱͦ׳۵ġ
ȴ - posted on 08/19/2007
Ƚ˸ömengran@yahoo.com
Ƚ wrote:
ڿ, ʱ, ҶԺЩй. ҵⲻ"", :), ϣЩԴǶһЩʵİ. ϣDzҪ. ǶƵĽ, ֶԻĻ˼, ĸ, ϲѧ. , ǻкܶԵ뷨. Ƿر, ֶƲ. , ҳΪһССľ, һЩҵ, Dzο. Ҳӭǽһǵ뷨. ǽһ.
ȷʵܻʱ. Ҳæ. Ҳپ. Ҷౣ. ǶǺ˲, Һϲ. :)
ϧʱ, ӣ, ˰Ž. ഺ, ʵDz֪ڻӻʱ, һδ֮ػƮƮԶȥ.
- posted on 08/19/2007
: ˵"ڶ", ָ߲Ҫ̫ؽһЩо˼ij, ӦDZȽȷеرֳʺͱ, ߾ֱӱԼĹ۵. ҾƽdzеĶѧ֮һ.
绹: "ɮĤ......". ߿ܻΪдDZһ"", ʵӦдĹ۵:
"ӡȵĿɮ, ΪĤ."
ΪɮԼΪĤ, ֻôΪ. ӦдЩ.
ڶôĸо, ˭Ҳ. ˽¥ε־. :)
XW: ʫ赱Ȼб"˼", ؼô, ֵʲôط. ˼ͨʷʫ"µ", һ˼Ӣ۳ɹľ, ֳԼĹ۵(˼). ɵ˼, ʫʱ, ڸӷʱܲ. (Լ֮Ƿϸ, ˵:"ϵ!", Ŷ, ҶɵĹ۵.:)
Ҳûʱúõ˼. ڴձ˵"ѧѾ"Ľ, ˼, Ѿ˲. ѧԶѧ, ֻа֮ң. ҽд˼, ȵȽȶȷк, ĥʫĵط, øԵʫԼ, Ⱦ. ллҶ˵ij.
RZP: յ. ллĿ϶. ҾůͿ. :)
ףİ.
- posted on 08/19/2007
ʫ, , Ƚϸжҵʫд.
ֱһֻԼͷǵѩṹ
һۿɳ
ȫһֻβĶ
ֱͷó˼
ժʫͬԲ
ҪΪڿŹȥѲٹȥëƤѪ⣬֪ѵֻʣ⺡ǣС־ɣһʽͻԳзɹաһѧƷһ˼ϵĿѧ塣ǸɤٺЩ߽ҹͼǧһ𡱡
صСϣǽضϵľζţԴ˼˵ҲһȻˡ
http://www.yanglian.net/
һλŵѧдһʫ, ʱҺܸж, ䷭. һҲ. , Ͱ. :)
- posted on 08/19/2007
xwʾ
룬дһÿһʱÿһʱ
ͬʽͬͬ治ͬ˼ͬǣҲͲͬʽͬ鲻ͬάʫ
Andrew Marvell (1621-1678) ӵˡ
[Ӣ]ά / ֮
ֻҪǵʱ࣬
С㣬Ӿ㲻
Ǿı
ȥɢdz鰮졣
ܵӡȵĺ
ȥٺ챦ʯų
Ժ鲴̾һ
ˮǰʮͿʼ㰮
ܾӦҲã
ֱ̫˸ڽ̡
1Had we but world enough, and time,
2This coyness, lady, were no crime.
3We would sit down and think which way
4To walk, and pass our long love's day;
5Thou by the Indian Ganges' side
6Shouldst rubies find; I by the tide
7Of Humber would complain. I would
8Love you ten years before the Flood;
9And you should, if you please, refuse
10Till the conversion of the Jews.
Ϊ쳤ؾ
С㣬
룬ʲô·
ɢȹһ
ӡȺ֮
ֱᷢʯȴԹ
ӳˮϣԸ
ںˮȽǰʮ
ܾң
͵ȵ̫˵ת
ҵֲ̳
۹ҪҪ㣺
һҶ
ۣü
ÿһ鷿
ű鼰ĵط
ÿһҪһ
һIJŵ̨
С㣬Ӧۣ
ҲԸݲ
ұ
ʱķּٵıƽ
ǰͷһ
ޱҰ
11My vegetable love should grow
12Vaster than empires, and more slow.
13An hundred years should go to praise
14Thine eyes, and on thy forehead gaze;
15Two hundred to adore each breast,
16But thirty thousand to the rest;
17An age at least to every part,
18And the last age should show your heart.
19For, lady, you deserve this state,
20Nor would I love at lower rate.
21 But at my back I always hear
22Time's winged chariot hurrying near;
23And yonder all before us lie
24Deserts of vast eternity.
Ҵİ齫ֲ
ȵ۹ҪӴҪ
һֱᳪ
۾ չ
Ľ鷿
ط
»ԸԳ
һչķ
ҵİһϢ
ҲᱣֺõٻӰ
ҵ
ʱ䳵ڷƽ
ܾԺǾҪϢ
ɳĮ
ҵ
ĴʯؽҲ
ҵĸ
Ʒһƿòصͯ꣬
Ľ黯˳
ҵװտݣ
ĹǺõطû˴ţ
Ҳûӵ
25Thy beauty shall no more be found,
26Nor, in thy marble vault, shall sound
27My echoing song; then worms shall try
28That long preserved virginity,
29And your quaint honour turn to dust,
30And into ashes all my lust.
31The grave's a fine and private place,
32But none I think do there embrace.
ʤ
Ȳڴʯ
ҳĻ
ҲܿԴͯ
˼ת볾
ҵҲҹ
ĹõŶ֮
ȴ˿õ
ˣھͳƤ
ɫʣٲȻ¶
Ըֱð̣
ʢÿһƤۣ
һˣ
һԷķӥ
ɰǵʱһ̣
ί١
ˣڣഺٻӰ
ļ峿¶
ÿһëȼջ
ڣǾ
ڣԸ
һʱ
ϸʶ
33 Now therefore, while the youthful hue
34Sits on thy skin like morning dew,
35And while thy willing soul transpires
36At every pore with instant fires,
37Now let us sport us while we may;
38And now, like am'rous birds of prey,
39Rather at once our time devour,
40Than languish in his slow-chapp'd power.
ǰȫټ
ȫǣһţ
ţһ
ӦõĻϲ
ӣ䲻ֹ̫ܽͣ
ͽܸ˰
ȫԸ
ٱܣͨ巢
ύ֯ڴҰIJ
ͻ
ȻDz
ȴܹʹ۲Ϩ
41Let us roll all our strength, and all
42Our sweetness, up into one ball;
43And tear our pleasures with rough strife
44Thorough the iron gates of life.
45Thus, though we cannot make our sun
46Stand still, yet we will make him run.
To his Coy Mistress
1Had we but world enough, and time,
2This coyness, lady, were no crime.
3We would sit down and think which way
4To walk, and pass our long love's day;
5Thou by the Indian Ganges' side
6Shouldst rubies find; I by the tide
7Of Humber would complain. I would
8Love you ten years before the Flood;
9And you should, if you please, refuse
10Till the conversion of the Jews.
11My vegetable love should grow
12Vaster than empires, and more slow.
13An hundred years should go to praise
14Thine eyes, and on thy forehead gaze;
15Two hundred to adore each breast,
16But thirty thousand to the rest;
17An age at least to every part,
18And the last age should show your heart.
19For, lady, you deserve this state,
20Nor would I love at lower rate.
21 But at my back I always hear
22Time's winged chariot hurrying near;
23And yonder all before us lie
24Deserts of vast eternity.
25Thy beauty shall no more be found,
26Nor, in thy marble vault, shall sound
27My echoing song; then worms shall try
28That long preserv'd virginity,
29And your quaint honour turn to dust,
30And into ashes all my lust.
31The grave's a fine and private place,
32But none I think do there embrace.
33 Now therefore, while the youthful hue
34Sits on thy skin like morning dew,
35And while thy willing soul transpires
36At every pore with instant fires,
37Now let us sport us while we may;
38And now, like am'rous birds of prey,
39Rather at once our time devour,
40Than languish in his slow-chapp'd power.
41Let us roll all our strength, and all
42Our sweetness, up into one ball;
43And tear our pleasures with rough strife
44Thorough the iron gates of life.
45Thus, though we cannot make our sun
46Stand still, yet we will make him run.
Notes
7] Humber: Hull, where Marvell lived as a boy, and which he represented as an M.P. for nearly twenty years from 1659, is on the river Humber.
10] The conversion of the Jews was to take place just before the end of the world.
11] vegetable love: that of his "vegetable" soul.
29] quaint: elegant, artificial.
34] dew. The original reading is "glew," which has been justified as meaning "glow."
36] instant: immediate and urgent.
40] slow-chapp'd: i.e., with slow-devouring jaws.
ֵùעйִͲڼ֮ʫ衪֮
ġ
峿ĺţ̣Ϻ
糿ҹ
Ǻȡ
ڿоһĹ˯ﲻӵ
һסߡд
ʱдŻص¹Ľ
дš߳⡡ǹ˸ڰѹ
ڰ̫˻ڵϾһĹ
峿ĺţ̡ҹ
糿㡡Ϻ
Ǻȡ
һסߡд
ʱдŻص¹Ľ
ĻҷءڿһĹ˯ﲻӵ
СѵЩߵġһߵġְ
۾
@Щߵġһߵġ
峿ĺţ̡ҹ
糿㡡Ϻ
Ǻȡ
һסĽ
Ļҷء
СøЩԵ¹Ĵʦ
СøͳЩǾͻ
ǾĹС˯ﲻӵ
峿ĺţ̡ҹ
㡡Ե¹Ĵʦ
糿㡡Ǻȡ
Ե¹Ĵʦ۾
Ǧ㡡ú
һסĽ
ʹҧǡһеķĹ
ߡóԵ¹Ĵʦ
Ľ
Ļҷ
(Ǯ粡) - Re: 死神曼衍的空殓posted on 08/19/2007
лл ӺüˡԣDz֮ ʫԼҲ˲֮; - posted on 08/20/2007
̸дʹʫ
ʮʫ
ӷ˹
˹1889-19571945ŵѧ
һ
ǰı裬
ҰŲĵ档
Dz֪ҲҪﰲϢ
ǽͬһ
ĸ˯ĺһ飬
Ұ㰲չҫĵϣ
ؽຢӵ壬
ҡǰ´档
Ҫõ廨꣬
ıƮ
ĺǽ
ı飬Ҹ質ȥ
Ϊ˭ҲµεĽ䣬
ͬĺǣ
һ죬øܣ
˵ԸŰ
Żú
õɫĵ·ϼǰС
ʹھ
һ˯Ůŵ
ұʵʵ
ǾͿϸֱԶ
ֻǸʱף
廹ĹѨ
ܲƣ룬˯ߡ
˵罫Ȼ
֪ǵԼdzӡǣ
ɽ˺ļȻѾ
һ죬dzʾ
뿪˰ٺϰ㴿ͯ꣬
а
ڻгɳȴ˻á
Ҷϵ˵ϻ·
Щ˲ɰ飡
ϵ۰ѣ
Ҫڳг٣
ҲܰסҲͬУ
һɫķ籩Ĵܡ
صһҪ
ĴֻѾê
ѵҲ飬ѵû
ҵϵۣһ㶼֪
( )
- posted on 08/20/2007
Ҫһʫ, , Ҳ˵. ֪Ķ. :) Ժҵʱ, ˵.
---following are poem of the 1996 Nobel Prize winner, Wislawa Szymborska.
From the "Polish Poetry of the last two decades of communist rule",
Northwestern University Press, 1991.---
Archaeology
Ƚ
Well, MY poor man,
ѽҿ˶
seems we've made some progress in my field.
ƺѵõЩչҵ
Millennia have passed
ǧѹ
since you first called me archaeology.
γƺΪ
I no longer require
Ҳ
your stone gods,
ʯͷ
your ruins with legible inscriptions.
Щ̻Ļ
Show me your whatever
չְ
and I'll tell you who you were.
һ˭
Something's bottom,
ijЩʲôĵ
something's top.
ʲô֮
A scrap of engine. A picture tube's neck.
еĺۼһͼƬľ
An inch of cable. Fingers turned to dust.
һΪָ
Or even less than that, or even less.
٣Щ
Using a method
һַʽ
that you couldn't have known then
㲻֪ģȻ
I can stir up memory
ܷ
in countless elements.
ޱϸ
Traces of blood are forever.
ѪļԶ
Lies shine.
Secret codes resound.
ܵdzٻ
Doubts and intentions come to light.
ɢΪâ
If I want to
Ը
(and you can't be too sure
that I will),
ֲ̫֮ʱ
I'll peer down the throat of your silence,
һƿŵ
I'll read your views
һĿ
from the sockets of your eyes,
I'll remind you in infinit detail
һػ
of what you expected from life besides death.
ε
Show me your nothing
that you've left behind
һ
and I'll build from it a forest and a highway,
Ҳָһɭ֣һٹ·
an airport, baseness, tenderness,
һػ
a missing home.
һļ
Show me your little poem
ҿʫ
and I'll tell you why it wasn't written
һ˵óΪʲôǡ
any earlier or later than it was.
ijʱд
Oh no, you've got me wrong.
㲻
Keep your funny piece of paper
Щְֽ
with its scribbles.
All I need for my ends
ҪһУʱ
is your layer of dirt
and the long gone
ȼգҷ
smell of burning.
ɢܰ
- posted on 08/20/2007
رϲSzymborskaдʱʫȽмҵⲻͬ˵˵ȶôDzģ
since you first called me archaeology.
γƺΪ
archaeologyѧ
A scrap of engine. A picture tube's neck.
еĺۼһͼƬľ
scrap of engineIJƬ
picture tubeCRT
Secret codes resound.
ܵdzٻ
Secret codes
Doubts and intentions come to light.
ɢΪâ
come to lightȻ
an airport, baseness, tenderness,
һػ
a missing home.
һļ
basenessͣ
missing homeʧļmissed
Keep your funny piece of paper
Щְֽ
with its scribbles.
keepԼţҲҪЩ˼
All I need for my ends
ҪһУʱ
for my endsΪҵĿģҾŲ룬ֻҪҪһֻǣˡ - Re: 死神曼衍的空殓posted on 08/20/2007
һûڸۻ, ̸˽
Ƚ wrote:
һ, û߽, ô㻹ڸۻ, ̸˽. - posted on 08/20/2007
һôʫˡҵдռģΪ
ʶܳˡ
ʬ֣ʬ?Sita-Vanaɮȷʵû
е̡¶ʬ˵ģȷпɮڴ˶ԡ
˼ڤ롣
Ҳ˼ϡѽ
ȽֻۺϸĶ˼룬ҪǸ£ʷ
գά˹˹Ͱ顢ʮԵȣúܡ
дɢľͲˣԼһڤ˼ּѧϰ
ñпɡлλ - Re: 死神曼衍的空殓posted on 08/20/2007
ϲߣ xw˼䳬ǰԼʮдĹĶھڡװ
⣬ȽתSzymborskaʫ̫ˣdzλͬ
- Re: 死神曼衍的空殓posted on 08/20/2007
ǰйǡװ;)
WOA wrote:
ԼʮдĹĶھڡװ - Re: 死神曼衍的空殓posted on 08/20/2007
touche wrote:
ǰйǡװ;)
WOA wrote:
ԼʮдĹĶھڡװ
Ҳǡ - Re: 死神曼衍的空殓posted on 08/21/2007
Crossing the river of death is a one-way journey. Nobody has ever returned. Therefore, all descriptions of death are fake, to some extent. :-)
But armed with a poetic liscense, nothing is impossible.
touche wrote:
ǰйǡװ;)
WOA wrote:
ԼʮдĹĶھڡװ - Re: 死神曼衍的空殓posted on 08/21/2007
wukong wrote:
Crossing the river of death is a one-way journey. Nobody has ever returned. Therefore, all descriptions of death are fake, to some extent. :-)
Do you know for sure? How about Near Death Experience? Or Out-of-body / astral body travel ? - Re: 死神曼衍的空殓posted on 08/21/2007
I know how it is.
rzp wrote:
wukong wrote:Do you know for sure? How about Near Death Experience? Or Out-of-body / astral body travel ?
Crossing the river of death is a one-way journey. Nobody has ever returned. Therefore, all descriptions of death are fake, to some extent. :-) - Re: 死神曼衍的空殓posted on 08/21/2007
Near death is no death. It could be light years away. Is July doing out-of-body stunt now? ;)
rzp wrote:
Do you know for sure? How about Near Death Experience? Or Out-of-body / astral body travel ? - Re: 死神曼衍的空殓posted on 08/21/2007
Yes, I see a Devil :-)
touche wrote:
Near death is no death. It could be light years away. Is July doing out-of-body stunt now? ;)
rzp wrote:
Do you know for sure? How about Near Death Experience? Or Out-of-body / astral body travel ? - Re: 死神曼衍的空殓posted on 08/21/2007
It can be dead based on medical standard. Some who rose from death actually got death certificate issued.
touche wrote:
Near death is no death. It could be light years away. Is July doing out-of-body stunt now? ;)
rzp wrote:
Do you know for sure? How about Near Death Experience? Or Out-of-body / astral body travel ? - Re: 死神曼衍的空殓posted on 08/21/2007
wrote:
touche wrote:Ҳǡ
ǰйǡװ;)
WOA wrote:
ԼʮдĹĶھڡװ
ǡ - posted on 08/21/2007
Ѿװһأʲô¥ϵͬѧҲ̫Цˡ
˵Szymborskaʫ̲ס̣һΡԼŷˣͬʱؽŮͬѧɹ
Archaeology֮
Well, MY poor man,
seems we've made some progress in my field.
Millennia have passed
since you first called me archaeology.
ˣҿĻ
ô˳ɼ
һθҿ֮
ǧѾȥ
I no longer require
your stone gods,
your ruins with legible inscriptions.
Ҳٿ
ʯ
بģĺۼ
Show me your whatever
and I'll tell you who you were.
Something's bottom,
something's top.
A scrap of engine. A picture tube's neck.
An inch of cable. Fingers turned to dust.
Or even less than that, or even less.
ʾκе
Ҿͽ֪Ĺȥ
֮
֮
Ƭܵ
һ̴£Ϊָ
٣ٵЩ
Using a method
that you couldn't have known then
I can stir up memory
in countless elements.
Traces of blood are forever.
Lies shine.
Secret codes resound.
Doubts and intentions come to light.
ƾһ
㲻֪ķʽ
ܻļ
߰Ѫ
˸
붯¶Ĺȵ
If I want to
(and you can't be too sure
that I will),
I'll peer down the throat of your silence,
I'll read your views
from the sockets of your eyes,
I'll remind you in infinit detail
of what you expected from life besides death.
Ը
㵱Ȼţ
ҽŵɤ
ҽеİѨ
ϳҰ
ҽ
dzԽһ
Show me your nothing
that you've left behind
and I'll build from it a forest and a highway,
an airport, baseness, tenderness,
a missing home.
¶
һ
ҽɭֺ·
ݵء
һʧĹ
Show me your little poem
and I'll tell you why it wasn't written
any earlier or later than it was.
Oh no, you've got me wrong.
Keep your funny piece of paper
with its scribbles.
All I need for my ends
is your layer of dirt
and the long gone
smell of burning.
Сʫ
ҽΪʲô
δܻؽ
Ŷ
ĵּֽ
ռĿ
ij
ͷ֮
ɢϢ
- Re: 死神曼衍的空殓posted on 08/21/2007
ôbasenessǸ˼ݵء²̫⣬ػЩ塣
ʫס - Re: 死神曼衍的空殓posted on 08/21/2007
Ǿ"ݵ"˼ˣDz ѾĹлrzp㲦
rzp wrote:
ôbasenessǸ˼ݵء²̫⣬ػЩ塣
ʫס - Re: 死神曼衍的空殓posted on 08/21/2007
Ŀbaseness, tendernessƺӦɡҴ
WOA wrote:
Ǿ"ݵ"˼ˣDz ѾĹлrzp㲦
rzp wrote:
ôbasenessǸ˼ݵء²̫⣬ػЩ塣
ʫס - posted on 08/21/2007
лͬѧ, . һֱΪѧǿѧӦDZȽϾȷذպͱ()ıԼ.
XWᵽ"˼", ͱд"ɮĤ"ȷЩ. :)
ɮǷͽ˼. ̵ּ", , ", ڶ, , , ԷĸҪ"а, Ⱦ, ". ɮ˿, Ϊ˲, ô"Ĥ"?
Archaeology
Ƚ
Well, MY poor man,
ѽҿ˶
seems we've made some progress in my field.
ƺѵõЩչҵ
Millennia have passed
ǧѹ
since you first called me archaeology.
γƺΪѧ
I no longer require
Ҳ
your stone gods,
ʯͷ
your ruins with legible inscriptions.
Щ̻Ļ
Show me your whatever
չְ
and I'll tell you who you were.
һ˭
Something's bottom,
ijЩʲôĵ
something's top.
ʲô֮
A scrap of engine. A picture tube's neck.
һƬһܵľ
An inch of cable. Fingers turned to dust.
һΪָ
Or even less than that, or even less.
٣Щ
Using a method
һַʽ
that you couldn't have known then
㲻֪ģȻ
I can stir up memory
ܷ
in countless elements.
ޱϸ
Traces of blood are forever.
ѪļԶ
Lies shine.
Secret codes resound.
ܵdzٻ
Doubts and intentions come to light.
ɢΪâ
If I want to
Ը
(and you can't be too sure
that I will),
ֲ̫֮ʱ
I'll peer down the throat of your silence,
һƿŵ
I'll read your views
һĿ
from the sockets of your eyes,
ۿ
I'll remind you in infinit detail
һػ
of what you expected from life besides death.
ε
Show me your nothing
that you've left behind
һ
and I'll build from it a forest and a highway,
Ҳָһɭ֣һٹ·
an airport, baseness, tenderness,
һ
a missing home.
һʧ˵ļ
Show me your little poem
ҿʫ
and I'll tell you why it wasn't written
һ˵óΪʲôǡ
any earlier or later than it was.
ijʱд
Oh no, you've got me wrong.
㲻
Keep your funny piece of paper
Щְֽ
with its scribbles.
All I need for my ends
ҪһУʱ
is your layer of dirt
and the long gone
ȼգҷ
smell of burning.
ɢܰ
ע: Ҳ, ܿʹ, , ˽ʲôDz, ʶʵ, ǻսʤӰ.
- posted on 08/21/2007
Ƚ˵һĿalthough under the cover of death, it really instead celebrates life. Or perhaps that's what death is about anyway. :)
ON DEATH, WITHOUT EXAGGERATION
by Wislawa Szymborska
It can't take a joke,
find a star, make a bridge.
It knows nothing about weaving, mining, farming,
building ships, or baking cakes.
In our planning for tomorrow,
it has the final word,
which is always beside the point.
It can't even get the things done
that are part of its trade:
dig a grave,
make a coffin,
clean up after itself.
Preoccupied with killing,
it does the job awkwardly,
without system or skill.
As though each of us were its first kill.
Oh, it has its triumphs,
but look at its countless defeats,
missed blows,
and repeat attempts!
Sometimes it isn't strong enough
to swat a fly from the air.
Many are the caterpillars
that have outcrawled it.
All those bulbs, pods,
tentacles, fins, tracheae,
nuptial plumage, and winter fur
show that it has fallen behind
with its halfhearted work.
Ill will won't help
and even our lending a hand with wars and coups d'etat
is so far not enough.
Hearts beat inside eggs.
Babies' skeletons grow.
Seeds, hard at work, sprout their first tiny pair of leaves
and sometimes even tall trees fall away.
Whoever claims that it's omnipotent
is himself living proof
that it's not.
There's no life
that couldn't be immortal
if only for a moment.
Death
always arrives by that very moment too late.
In vain it tugs at the knob
of the invisible door.
As far as you've come
can't be undone. - posted on 08/24/2007
쿴ģ
Scientists study out-of-body experiences
By RANDOLPH E. SCHMID, AP Science Writer
1 hour, 18 minutes ago
WASHINGTON - The stories seem strange but riveting. A heart attack victim recalls floating in the air, watching paramedics revive him. A surgical patient remembers hovering, watching the doctors operate. Such widely reported out-of-body experiences have long been the territory of theology, philosophy and scary movies. Now scientists have turned their attention to the topic.
Researchers in England and Switzerland have figured out ways to confuse the sensory signals received by the brain, allowing people to seem to be standing aside and watching themselves.
No, they're not using drugs, legal or otherwise.
The research is described in Friday's edition of the journal Science.
Dr. Henrik Ehrsson of University College London's Institute of Neurology and the Karolinska Institute in Stockholm, explained that he was interested in a person's perception of the "self."
"I'm interested in the question of why I feel that my self is located inside my physical body. How does my brain know that I am standing right here," he said.
And what would happen to the self if a person could effectively move their eyes to another part of the room and observe themselves from an outside perspective? Would the self move with the eyes, or stay in the body, he wondered.
So seated volunteers were fitted with head-mounted video displays that allowed them to view themselves from behind, using a pair of video cameras, one for each eye.
A researcher would stand behind them and extend a plastic rod which they could see toward the area just below the cameras. At the same time another plastic rod, which they could not see, touched their chest.
The volunteers said they experienced the feeling of being behind their own body watching. Many found it "weird" and seemingly real, though not scary.
They felt "that their center of awareness 'self' is located outside their physical bodies and that they look at their bodies from the perspective of another person," he reported.
"The idea is to change the visual input and its relationship to the tactile information," he said. "The brain is always trying to interpret sensory information. The brain can trick itself."
In a second test, Ehrsson connected sensors to the skin to measure electrical conductance, which indicates emotional response.
He then allowed them to watch a hammer swing down to a point below the camera, as though it were going to hurt an unseen portion of the virtual body.
Their skin conductance registered emotional responses including fear, indicating they sensed their selves had left their physical bodies and moved to the virtual bodies where the hammer was swung.
The research has applications in neuroscience and also potentially in industrial applications involving virtual reality, he said.
Meanwhile, a team led by Olaf Blanke, a professor at the Laboratory of Cognitive Neuroscience at Ecole Polytechnique Federale in Lausanne, Switzerland, conducted a similar experiment using virtual reality goggles.
In these tests, the subjects could see a three-dimensional representation of their body, the body of a dummy, or a simple object directly in front of them. The subject then saw the back of the image being stroked with a paintbrush, either in or out of sync with someone stroking his own back.
Then the participants were blindfolded and backed up, and then asked to return to their original position.
Those whose backs were stroked synchronously with the virtual image of themselves or the human dummy consistently overshot their position in the direction of the image; but subjects who saw no virtual image or a simple object did not.
The study aimed at determining how senses play a role in self consciousness, Blanke said.
Ehrsson's research was funded by the Wellcome Trust, the Presence: Research Encompassing Sensory Enhancement, Neuroscience, Cerebral-Computer Interfaces and Applications Project, the Human Frontier Science Program, Swedish Medical Research Council and the Swedish Foundation for Strategic Research. Blanke's work was funded by the Cojito Foundation, Foundation de Familie Sandoz, the Foundation Odier and the Swiss National Science Foundation.
___
Science: http://www.sciencemag.org - posted on 08/25/2007
WOA wrote:=========================================
If I want to
(and you can't be too sure
that I will),
I'll peer down the throat of your silence,
I'll read your views
from the sockets of your eyes,
I'll remind you in infinit detail
of what you expected from life besides death.
Ը
㵱Ȼţ
ҽ˺ŵɤ
ҽеİѨ
ϳҰ
ҽ
dzԽһ
˴peer down the throat of your silenceСpeerϸꡱ֮⣬ƵǸpierceоpeer downеġdownԨʫ״ɵġ⣬peer ꡱ֮⣬ƺһСreadһ
socketsѨ֮ȷʵʮȷֻǴ˼ƺζأ
ȻsocketѨartificial or natural˵һˡһ壬eye socketѣǾеĹ̶䣬ȻʫǰΣpic-tubeengineһôʶദɼˣĴ˴òϰġsocketһ롰ҹô²ijǶȳǷԳ֮ⷭ룿CRTairportǰӦδͻأ
Ȼνͱ壬վҲϰ߳Ȼ⡣eye socketʱʱʵı˿ںͳϰ̺˷塰ȥѰeye socketƺȷм֡ۿݼǡĿζ
Show me your little poem=========================================
and I'll tell you why it wasn't written
any earlier or later than it was.
Oh no, you've got me wrong.
Keep your funny piece of paper
with its scribbles.
All I need for my ends
is your layer of dirt
and the long gone
smell of burning.
Сʫ
ҽΪʲô
δܻؽ
Ŷ
ĵּֽ
ռĿ
ij
ͷ֮
ɢϢ
߰ѡsmell of burning̡Ҳ=P
- Re: 死神曼衍的空殓posted on 08/26/2007
лpaludatusIJָ, dzͬ Peer down ΪӸΪǡʱֻڿɤˣϾȥģԭʫʹõĺƼʣǷѵ㣬ҵԭǾʫڲǰ¡мȽţҵϰߺëͬˡ̡ٴ֤ŵĿԣ л
paludatus˻ǶʿҲǸID? ӭȣ
paludatus wrote:
- Re: 死神曼衍的空殓posted on 08/26/2007
paludatus wrote:Ǻ, һһԸҴ,ֻǴʫʵƢθ(лл!),η,WOAǰ˺, Ǹ"ͷ"Ĺ=) ֻаصҰıֵķʶ(,ǶԹ֮), ԺҪ͵.˳㷴֮:WOAָ? - posted on 08/27/2007
SzymborskaζҲܺҿζȥһ£ŵѧǣfor poetry that with ironic precision allows the historical and biological context to come to light in fragments of human reality.
бҪ(͵ҵѧɣ ҵnick WOAûκ˼ͻģ
paludatus wrote:
Ǻ, һһԸҴ,ֻǴʫʵƢθ(лл!),η,WOAǰ˺, Ǹ"ͷ"Ĺ=) ֻаصҰıֵķʶ(,ǶԹ֮), ԺҪ͵.˳㷴֮:WOAָ? - Re: 死神曼衍的空殓posted on 09/05/2007
һУѵһγ
μǸȥһһϣǸįСӻҪįʲôճ䣬ûûлҳûһжĶԼҲһ鲻ܶʯͷ˼⣬ܲκΣߡ룬ҾЩȥǧ꣬ôֲ Ǹѵġ
ǸܵĿռѪɫ½ֲݻɫԶɫǽڵķʽϵ۸ò
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