- 说实在的，老废，你贴的这两首诗都不及我兄弟红河的。真可惜他这辈子都不能再来美国了。他真的是出口成章，他的诗能跟neruda的媲美。那天随便聊着，他就写了这几行：
I used to wander through life amid
and ill-starred love
I used to keep a little page of quartz
to rivet my eyes to life.
I bought kindness, I was in the market
of greed, I inhaled envy's
most sordid waters, the inhuman
hostility of masks and beings,
I lived a sea-swamp world
in which the flower, the lily, suddenly
consumed me in the or foamy tremor,
and wherever I stepped my soul slid
toward the teeth of the abyss.
That's how my poetry was born, barely
freed from the nettles, clutched
above solitude like a punishment,
or its most secret flowers sequestered
in the garden of immodesty until it was buried.
And so isolated like the dark water
that in habits its deep corridors,
I fled from hand to hand, to each
being's alienation, to daily hatred.
I knew that was how they live, hiding
half of their beings, like fish
from the strangest sea, and in the murky
immensities I encountered death.
Death opening doors and roads.
Death gliding along the walls.
我懒惰，一直都没贴他最近写的东西。他真是个天才，真可惜。
鐜涢泤