博客--在“堂倌与诗人”朗诵诗 | May 22 2007- ͬһλдʫȥŷʫлᣬеصһ컨ܸߵIJ,ټģʫˣBusboys and Poets) ÿڶʫУβͬŷʫ˵лᣬ˸ʹݵĻԱԼʫ˵ʫ䡣
µĻʢȻʱƷƣʻʢгһµEupoean Poetry in MotionкܶʫлᡢᣬĹϻӡŷʫ˵ĶʫӢķ룬Ȼʫ֮һС߳
еĺôǸԭȻٶ룬ԵʫϣϣأʫͣIJԼϣָУܴԭʶᡣ
һϣʫˡŵѧGeorge Seferisʫ
Andromeda
(1935)
In my breast the wound opens again
when the stars descend and become kin to my body
when silence falls under the footsteps of men
These stones sinking into time, how far will they drag me with them?
The sea, the sea, who will be able to drain it dry?
I see the hands beckon each dawn to the vulture and the hawk
bound as I am to the rock that suffering has made mine
I see the trees breathing the black serenity of the dead
and the smiles, so static, of the statues.
һ˹ʫ˵ģ
Hours
How lonesome are the midnight hours
as they incline their dark fields
above the quiet night fields
How sad their bronzy throats
as they sing their song, coated in half-black silver.
The cupboards of their chests are empty
Only the dark sounds of night have wandered in.
Their mouths are empty.
Empty and Hungry
How longsome are the midnight hours.