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自由論壇 新帖 | 查帖 | 刷新 蒋品超 7/25/2006 8:23:18 PM 标题 内容 June (Written in an Electronic Colloquium and Debate with Chinese Poets) 《六月》 ――写于在中国网络与中国诗人的交流与论战 Jiang Pinchao 蒋品超 Fish in darting schools reveal on the ocean-bed the state of a ship that has foundered. Pirates – sly, uncanny – Strangle-guard with forking spears their secret thoughts of night plunder. A decade of choking off life: choking the eyes of the eking-by. A season for mourning and consciousness: for mourning the conscience of those who kept faith. Whose iron palms blacked the crowding stars that filled the heavens, filled the earth? Whose broken arms pry the cart wheels up, old and rotting, stiff and stilled? Whose corpses pressed and buckled the Spring, early, grass-green, oriole-soaring? Who is it whose bone-dust succors their souls, the eke-breathing, scarcely-surviving? Lamp-bearing sky spirits glowing high, nightly their weeping sounds from the square. Skulls that covered the streets with gore, always they enter the core of my bones; they tear and bite at my quiet. Where there is no striding out, there is no path to be trampled clear. Where there is no lifting of heads, then no sky can pierced with a gaze. Left unspoken, these dark wrongs erupt in a howl – mine, alone. In the pith of my heart this terrible blaze scorches the night vault, sleeping-still. Were all the bitter hardship, all, yielding its bitter fruit to me, still, as I faced another June, I could not refuse this poisoned drug. This is always so: gross and evil look to sink and smother what is fair and good; they snatch at their justification. The high and fine must wash away every thing that is petty and mean; only then can the high and fine win the grace that belongs to them. A history written in blood leaves its mark written in blood. If the mouth of a wound is left unclosed, how can that mouth remain dumb? (Written on June 17, 2002, in Los Angeles.) 《六月》 ----寫于中國網絡與中國詩人的交流 遊動的魚群 在海底揭示船只顛覆的真相 詭秘的海盜 用鋼叉扼守暗夜掠奪的隱情 窒息生命的年代 窒息著苟活者的眼睛 悲哀良善的季節 悲哀著執著者的良心 是誰的鐵掌遮蔽了滿天滿地的繁星 是誰的斷臂撬動著老朽僵滯的車輪 是誰的屍首壓垮了草長莺飛的早春 是誰的骨灰喂養著苟延殘喘的性靈 舉燈高照的天神 夜夜都從廣場傳出他們的哭聲 以血鋪道的頭顱 時時都在進入骨髓撕咬我的甯靜 沒有不跨出腳 就能夠踩出的路 沒有不擡起頭 就能夠望穿的天 不白的沈冤爆炸我孤獨的呼號 心中的烈火在沈睡的夜空裏燃燒 縱使所有的苦難都在向我結出苦果 面對六月我仍無法拒絕這碗毒藥 醜惡總是要將美好淹沒 以企圖顯示自己的正確 高貴只有蕩滌了那些卑瑣 才足以贏得高貴者的清濯 血寫的曆史 留著血寫的印記 傷口如果不曾愈合 傷口如何能夠沈默 2002/6/17洛杉磯 改帖　　删帖 提帖　　压帖　　封/解帖 删改者姓名　 删改者密码

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