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第6部分

sword blades & poppy seed-第6部分

小说: sword blades & poppy seed 字数: 每页4000字

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 And the vase fell to iridescent sherds。

The old man's body heaved with slow; dry sobs。

 He did not curse; he had no words。



He gathered the fragments; one by one;

 And his fingers were cut and torn。

Then he made a hole in the very place

 Whence the beautiful vase had been borne。



He covered the hole; and he patted it down;

 Then he hobbled to his house and shut the door。

He tore up his coat and nailed it at the windows

 That no beam of light should cross the floor。



He sat down in front of the empty hearth;

 And he neither ate nor drank。

In three days they found him; dead and cold;

 And they said:  〃What a queer old crank!〃









The Foreigner







Have at you; you Devils!

 My back's to this tree;

For you're nothing so nice

 That the hind…side of me

Would escape your assault。

 Come on now; all three!



Here's a dandified gentleman;

 Rapier at point;

And a wrist which whirls round

 Like a circular joint。

A spatter of blood; man!

 That's just to anoint



And make supple your limbs。

 'Tis a pity the silk

Of your waistcoat is stained。

 Why!  Your heart's full of milk;

And so full; it spills over!

 I'm not of your ilk。



You said so; and laughed

 At my old…fashioned hose;

At the cut of my hair;

 At the length of my nose。

To carve it to pattern

 I think you propose。



Your pardon; young Sir;

 But my nose and my sword

Are proving themselves

 In quite perfect accord。

I grieve to have spotted

 Your shirt。  On my word!



And hullo!  You Bully!

 That blade's not a stick

To slash right and left;

 And my skull is too thick

To be cleft with such cuffs

 Of a sword。  Now a lick



Down the side of your face。

 What a pretty; red line!

Tell the taverns that scar

 Was an honour。  Don't whine

That a stranger has marked you。

     *    *    *    *    *

 The tree's there; You Swine!



Did you think to get in

 At the back; while your friends

Made a little diversion

 In front?  So it ends;

With your sword clattering down

 On the ground。  'Tis amends



I make for your courteous

 Reception of me;

A foreigner; landed

 From over the sea。

Your welcome was fervent

 I think you'll agree。



My shoes are not buckled

 With gold; nor my hair

Oiled and scented; my jacket's

 Not satin; I wear

Corded breeches; wide hats;

 And I make people stare!



So I do; but my heart

 Is the heart of a man;

And my thoughts cannot twirl

 In the limited span

'Twixt my head and my heels;

 As some other men's can。



I have business more strange

 Than the shape of my boots;

And my interests range

 From the sky; to the roots

Of this dung…hill you live in;

 You half…rotted shoots



Of a mouldering tree!

 Here's at you; once more。

You Apes!  You Jack…fools!

 You can show me the door;

And jeer at my ways;

 But you're pinked to the core。



And before I have done;

 I will prick my name in

With the front of my steel;

 And your lily…white skin

Shall be printed with me。

 For I've come here to win!









Absence







My cup is empty to…night;

Cold and dry are its sides;

Chilled by the wind from the open window。

Empty and void; it sparkles white in the moonlight。

The room is filled with the strange scent

Of wistaria blossoms。

They sway in the moon's radiance

And tap against the wall。

But the cup of my heart is still;

And cold; and empty。



When you come; it brims

Red and trembling with blood;

Heart's blood for your drinking;

To fill your mouth with love

And the bitter…sweet taste of a soul。









A Gift







See!  I give myself to you; Beloved!

My words are little jars

For you to take and put upon a shelf。

Their shapes are quaint and beautiful;

And they have many pleasant colours and lustres

To recommend them。

Also the scent from them fills the room

With sweetness of flowers and crushed grasses。



When I shall have given you the last one;

You will have the whole of me;

But I shall be dead。









The Bungler







You glow in my heart

Like the flames of uncounted candles。

But when I go to warm my hands;

My clumsiness overturns the light;

And then I stumble

Against the tables and chairs。









Fool's Money Bags







Outside the long window;

With his head on the stone sill;

The dog is lying;

Gazing at his Beloved。

His eyes are wet and urgent;

And his body is taut and shaking。

It is cold on the terrace;

A pale wind licks along the stone slabs;

But the dog gazes through the glass

And is content。



The Beloved is writing a letter。

Occasionally she speaks to the dog;

But she is thinking of her writing。

Does she; too; give her devotion to one

Not worthy?









Miscast I







I have whetted my brain until it is like a Damascus blade;

So keen that it nicks off the floating fringes of passers…by;

So sharp that the air would turn its edge

Were it to be twisted in flight。

Licking passions have bitten their arabesques into it;

And the mark of them lies; in and out;

Worm…like;

With the beauty of corroded copper patterning white steel。

My brain is curved like a scimitar;

And sighs at its cutting

Like a sickle mowing grass。



But of what use is all this to me!

I; who am set to crack stones

In a country lane!









Miscast II







My heart is like a cleft pomegranate

Bleeding crimson seeds

And dripping them on the ground。

My heart gapes because it is ripe and over…full;

And its seeds are bursting from it。



But how is this other than a torment to me!

I; who am shut up; with broken crockery;

In a dark closet!









Anticipation







I have been temperate always;

But I am like to be very drunk

With your coming。

There have been times

I feared to walk down the street

Lest I should reel with the wine of you;

And jerk against my neighbours

As they go by。

I am parched now; and my tongue is horrible in my mouth;

But my brain is noisy

With the clash and gurgle of filling wine…cups。









Vintage







I will mix me a drink of stars; 

Large stars with polychrome needles;

Small stars jetting maroon and crimson;

Cool; quiet; green stars。

I will tear them out of the sky;

And squeeze them over an old silver cup;

And I will pour the cold scorn of my Beloved into it;

So that my drink shall be bubbled with ice。



It will lap and scratch

As I swallow it down;

And I shall feel it as a serpent of fire;

Coiling and twisting in my belly。

His snortings will rise to my head;

And I shall be hot; and laugh;

Forgetting that I have ever known a woman。









The Tree of Scarlet Berries







The rain gullies the garden paths

And tinkles on the broad sides of grass blades。

A tree; at the end of my arm; is hazy with mist。

Even so; I can see that it has red berries;

A scarlet fruit;

Filmed over with moisture。

It seems as though the rain;

Dripping from it;

Should be tinged with colour。

I desire the berries;

But; in the mist; I only scratch my hand on the thorns。

Probably; too; they are bitter。









Obligation







Hold your apron wide

That I may pour my gifts into it;

So that scarcely shall your two arms hinder them

From falling to the ground。



I would pour them upon you

And cover you;

For greatly do I feel this need

Of giving you something;

Even these poor things。



Dearest of my Heart!









The Taxi







When I go away from you

The world beats dead

Like a slackened drum。

I call out for you against the jutted stars

And shout into the ridges of the wind。

Streets coming fast;

One after the other;

Wedge you away from me;

And the lamps of the city prick my eyes

So that I can no longer see your face。

Why should I leave you;

To wound myself upon the sharp edges of the night?









The Giver of Stars







Hold your soul open for my welcoming。

Let the quiet of your spirit bathe me

With its clear and rippled coolness;

That; loose…limbed and weary; I find rest;

Outstretched upon your peace; as on a bed of ivory。



Let the flickering flame of your soul play all about me;

That into my limbs may come the keenness of fire;

The life and joy of tongues of flame;

And; going out from you; tightly strung and in tune;

I may rouse the blear…eyed world;

And pour into it the beauty which you have begotten。









The Temple







Between us leapt a gold and scarlet flame。

 Into the hollow of the cupped; arched blue

 Of Heaven it rose。  Its flickering tongues up…drew

And vanished in the sunshine。  How it came

We guessed not; nor what thing could be its name。

 From each to each had sprung those sparks which flew

 Together into fire。  But we knew

The winds would slap and quench it in their game。

 And so we graved and fashioned marble blocks

To treasure it; and placed them round about。

With pillared porticos we wreathed the whole;

 And roofed it with bright bronze。  Behind carved locks

Flowered the tall and sheltered flame。  Without;

The baffled winds thrust at a column's bole。









Epitaph of a Young Poet Who Died Before Having Achieved Success







Beneath this sod lie the remains

Of one who died of growing pains。









In Answer to a Request







You ask me for a sonnet。  Ah; my Dear;

 Can clocks tick back to yesterday at noon?

 Can cracked and fallen leaves recall last June

And leap up on the boughs; now stiff and sere?

For your sake; I would go and seek the year;

 Faded beyond the purple ranks of dune;

 Blown sands of drifted hours; which the moon

Streaks with a ghostly finger; and her sneer

 Pulls at my lengthening shadow。  Yes; 'tis th

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