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2006-08-03
边缘
The woman is perfected.
Her dead
Body wears the smile of accomplishment,
The illusion of a Greek necessity
Flows in the scrolls of her toga,
Her bare
Feet seem to be saying:
We have come so far,it is over.
Each dead child coiled,a white serpent,
One at each little
Pitcher of milk,now empty.
She has folded
Them back into her body as petals
Of a rose close when the garden
Stiflens and odours bleed
From the sweet,deep throats of the night flower.
The moon has nothing to be said about,
Staring from her hood of bone.
She is used to this sort of thing.
Her backs crackle and drag.
女子人性完美
她的尸体
显现出他成就的微笑,
一个希腊人命运的幻觉
随着她宽松外袍的饰带在飘拂。
她赤着的脚似乎在表明:
我们至今已走到这地步,一切也就算了。
每一个夭折的孩子卷起来,一条白色有害的蛇。
每人有一小罐牛奶,现在吃光了。
她已彻底失败,
然后像无数花瓣一样投到她身上,
这是花卉满园和香味四溢的玫瑰花,
来自夜的深处和花的颈部。
月亮没有阴惨惨的光,
从她的尸罩上凝视着。
她习惯于这类事情。
她的黑衣闪耀而随处拖曳。 -
2006-02-01
Bay of angels——做一个单身的赌徒
真High~~~mono的黑白片,找到字幕就看了
两个赌徒的故事,一男一女,在赌场里男的冷静而且走运,女的完全神经质,好玩、聪明的故事,后来看到配乐竟然是mono,
,法文名叫《baie des anges, La》,影片一开始就让人想起茨威格的小说,后来也证明了是相同思想的延续,不过想不起来那部小说叫什么名字了,挺喜欢的一篇
导演有好故事讲,演员有大把大把的钱,
可是没有人陪我灌水
听了翻唱Suede的几首,The Drowners,My Insatiable One, Animal Nitrate,Trash,还有黄耀明翻唱Saturday Night
还听了乌鸦的另十三个补丁,唔……
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2006-02-01
Who's Who
Who's Who
W.H.Auden
A shilling life will give you all the facts:
How father beat him, how he ran away,
What were the struggles of his youth, what acts
Made him the greatest figure of his day:
Of how he fought, fished, hunted, worked all night
Though giddy, climbed new mountains; named a sea:
Some of the last researchers even write
Love made him weep his pints like you and me.
With all his honours on, he sighed for one
Who, say astonished critics, lived at home;
Did little jobs about the house with skill
And nothing else; could whistle; would sit still
Or potter round the garden; answered some
Of his long marvellous letters, but kept none.廉价传记会告诉你他的所有身世遭际:
父亲如何痛打他,他如何走逃,
他青年时代怎样拼搏,怎样行动
使他成为一代枭雄:
他怎样作战,垂钓,打猎,彻夜工作,
尽管头晕,仍攀过罕至的山峰;为某海洋命名:
有些最新的研究者甚至写道
和你我一样,爱情曾使他泪湿青衫。
他集万千美誉于一身,却有一人令他情牵,
纳罕的评论者说,那人就居于他家中,
总做些精巧的家务活。那人
别无所求;或吹吹口哨;或是闷坐
又或在园中逡巡漫步;回复数封
他措辞优美的长信,但一信也不留存。
(张杰 译) -
2006-02-01
Sylvia Plath-暂且放在这里,方便翻
The Rabbit Catcher
It was a place of force---
The wind gagging my mouth with my own blown hair,
Tearing off my voice, and the sea
Blinding me with its lights, the lives of the dead
Unreeling in it, spreading like oil.
I tasted the malignity of the gorse,
Its black spikes,
The extreme unction of its yellow candle-flowers.
They had an efficiency, a great beauty,
And were extravagant, like torture.
There was only one place to get to.
Simmering, perfumed,
The paths narrowed into the hollow.
And the snares almost effaced themselves---
Zeros, shutting on nothing,
Set close, like birth pangs.
The absence of shrieks
Made a hole in the hot day, a vacancy.
The glassy light was a clear wall,
The thickets quiet.
I felt a still busyness, an intent.
I felt hands round a tea mug, dull, blunt,
Ringing the white china.
How they awaited him, those little deaths!
They waited like sweethearts. They excited him.
And we, too, had a relationship---
Tight wires between us,
Pegs too deep to uproot, and a mind like a ring
Sliding shut on some quick thing,
The constriction killing me also.它是力量之所在——
风以我飘乱的头发堵着我自己的嘴,
撕裂我的声音,而大海
泛着令我目眩的光,死者的生命
在大海中舒卷,像油一样铺展。
我尝过荆豆荚的狠毒,
黑色的穗状荚果,
黄色蜡烛花滴着给临死者涂抹的油。
它们都很有效率,有一种雄伟的美,
并且恣情纵性,就像折磨。
能到达的地方只有一处。
加上香料,慢慢煨,
小径都变窄通向那个窟窿。
诱捕器几乎都隐去了面目——
所有的零被设置得很接近,
在虚空处关闭,犹如分娩的阵痛。
缺少了尖叫,
大热天便生出一个窟窿,一块空缺。
玻璃似的光成为一堵清澈的墙,
灌木丛沉静着。
我感到一种凝滞的忙碌,一种杀机。
我感到双手抔着茶缸,它迟钝而生硬,
双手套着这白瓷。
它们焦躁地等待他,那些微小的死亡!
它们像情人一样地等。它们令他兴奋。
而我们,我们也有一层关系——
我们之间有绷紧的牵线,
木栓插得很深,难以拔起,而且有一种套环似的心思
因某个敏感之物牵动而滑落套紧,
而那一紧缩也将致我于死地。
Apprehensions
There is this white wall, above which the sky creates itself---
Infinite, green, utterly untouchable.
Angels swim in it, and the stars, in indifference also.
They are my medium.
The sun dissolves on this wall, bleeding its lights.
A gray wall now, clawed and bloody.
Is there no way out of the mind?
Steps at my back spiral into a well.
There are no trees or birds in this world,
There is only a sourness.
This red wall winces continually:
A red fist, opening and closing,
Two gray, papery bags---
This is what I am made of, this and a terror
Of being wheeled off under crosses and a rain of pietàs.
On a black wall, unidentifiable birds
Swivel their heads and cry.
There is no talk of immortality among these!
Cold blanks approach us:
They move in a hurry.Medusa
Off that landspit of stony mouth-plugs,
Eyes rolled by white sticks,
Ears cupping the sea's incoherences,
You house your unnerving head---God-ball,
Lens of mercies,
Your stooges
Plying their wild cells in my keel's shadow,
Pushing by like hearts,
Red stigmata at the very center,
Riding the rip tide to the nearest point of departure,
Dragging their Jesus hair.
Did I escape, I wonder?
My mind winds to you
Old barnacled umbilicus, Atlantic cable,
Keeping itself, it seems, in a state of miraculous repair.
In any case, you are always there,
Tremulous breath at the end of my line,
Curve of water upleaping
To my water rod, dazzling and grateful,
Touching and sucking.
I didn't call you.
I didn't call you at all.
Nevertheless, nevertheless
You steamed to me over the sea,
Fat and red, a placenta
Paralysing the kicking lovers.
Cobra light
Squeezing the breath from the blood bells
Of the fuchsia. I could draw no breath,
Dead and moneyless,
Overexposed, like an X-ray.
Who do you think you are?
A Communion wafer? Blubbery Mary?
I shall take no bite of your body,
Bottle in which I live,
36 Ghastly Vatican.
37 I am sick to death of hot salt.
Green as eunuchs, your wishes
Hiss at my sins.
Off, off, eely tentacle!
There is nothing between us.
那个海岬是石头的口塞,远处
有眼睛在白色的棍棒旁滚涌,
耳朵聚拢着大海断续的涛声,
你收容着抽掉神经的头颅——上帝之球,
仁慈之目的眼球。
你的狗腿子们
在我船脊似的腹部阴影中播撒他们狂热的细胞,
一颗颗心涌过我身侧,
在最中心呈现一个红斑,
追逐着回头浪,涌向最近的离岸点,
拖着他们的耶稣长发。
我不禁自问,我是否潜逃过?
我的心思曲折地向你吐露,
老藤壶似的脐带,大西洋电缆,
似乎依靠维修竟也保持着难以置信的状态。
不管怎么说,你总在那里,
从我的电话线那端传来颤悠悠的呼吸,
一弯海水冲洗
我的测水杆,它水光粼粼,满心感激,
抚摸着,吮吸着。
我没有打电话给你。
根本就没有打电话召唤你。
即便如此,尽管如此,
你还是隔海送来一团蒸汽,
肥腻、血红,一只胎盘
使得蹬着脚挣扎的情侣完全瘫痪。
眼镜蛇的光
挤走了血红的倒挂金钟里的
呼吸。我已无法喘气,
死透了、没钱了,
我曝光过度,像在X光下一样。
你以为你是谁?
圣餐饼?还是发酵了的圣母?
你的身体我一口也不会咬,
你这只瓶子我已居住很久,
阴森可怖的梵蒂冈。
那热烘烘的咸味令我恶心得要死。
你的祝愿像太监一样生涩,
冲着我的罪孽嘶嘶吐芯。
滚开,滚开,鳗鱼似的触须!
你我之间没有任何瓜葛。
Elm
For Ruth Fainlight
I know the bottom, she says. I know it with my great tap root:
It is what you fear.
I do not fear it: I have been there.
Is it the sea you hear in me,
Its dissatisfactions?
Or the voice of nothing, that was your madness?
Love is a shadow.
How you lie and cry after it
Listen: these are its hooves: it has gone off, like a horse.
All night I shall gallop thus, impetuously,
Till your head is a stone, your pillow a little turf,
Echoing, echoing.
Or shall I bring you the sound of poisons?
This is rain now, this big hush.
And this is the fruit of it: tin-white, like arsenic.
I have suffered the atrocity of sunsets.
Scorched to the root
My red filaments burn and stand, a hand of wires.
Now I break up in pieces that fly about like clubs.
A wind of such violence
Will tolerate no bystanding: I must shriek.
The moon, also, is merciless: she would drag me
Cruelly, being barren.
Her radiance scathes me. Or perhaps I have caught her.
I let her go. I let her go
Diminished and flat, as after radical surgery.
How your bad dreams possess and endow me.
I am inhabited by a cry.
Nightly it flaps out
Looking, with its hooks, for something to love.
I am terrified by this dark thing
That sleeps in me;
All day I feel its soft, feathery turnings, its malignity.
Clouds pass and disperse.
Are those the faces of love, those pale irretrievables?
Is it for such I agitate my heart?
I am incapable of more knowledge.
What is this, this face
So murderous in its strangle of branches?------
Its snaky acids hiss.
It petrifies the will. These are the isolate, slow faults
That kill, that kill, that kill.
榆树
——致茹丝•芬莱特
我了解那底部,她说。我以巨大的主根了解到:
那是你的恐惧所在。
我并不惧怕:我已经去过。
你在我深处听到的可是大海
和它的不满?
或者是虚空之声,亦即你的疯狂?
爱是一个阴影。
你谎话连篇呼天抢地地穷追不舍。
可是你听:它的蹄声。它已经跑开,像一匹马。
我也将彻夜这样疾驰,疯狂飞奔,
直到你的头化作石头,枕头化作一方小小的马场,
回响,回响。
或者我应该给你带来毒药的声音?
此刻,又化作雨了,这巨大的静寂。
而它的果实就是这样:锡白色,犹如砒霜。
我已饱经日落的暴行。
我红色的丝
焦灼到根部,竖立着燃烧,一张铁丝的手。
现在,我断成碎片,棍棒似地四处飞散。
如此猛烈的狂风
决不会耐着性子旁观:我必须尖叫。
月亮也毫不慈悲:因为不育,
她总想拖着我走,真是残酷。
她的辐射灼伤了我。或许是我不放过她。
我放她走了。我放走了她,
萎缩而干瘪,像经过了令她彻底改观的手术。
你的恶梦于我既是粗暴的占有也是丰厚的馈赠。
我已被哀号附了身。
它夜夜展翅而出,
以它的钩爪寻找值得一爱的东西。
这黑暗的东西沉睡在我的体内,
我被它吓得魂不附体;
我整天都感到它轻柔的转动像羽毛一样,它的恶毒。
云朵飘过,云朵散开。
那些一去不回的苍白,都是爱的面孔吗?
是否因为这一切,我才心神不宁?
我已无能了解更多。
这是什么,这张充满杀机
被树枝掐住的脸到底是什么?——
它毒蛇的酸液嘶嘶地响。
它令意志僵冷。缓慢分解带来这些残缺
能够致人于非命,致命,致命。
Lady Lazarus
I have done it again.
One year in every ten
I manage it ----
A sort of walking miracle,my skin
Bright as a Nazi lampshade,
My right foot
A paperweight,
My face a featureless, fine
Jew linen.
Peel off the napkin
O my enemy.
Do I terrify? ----
The nose, the eye pits, the full set of teeth?
The sour breath
Will vanish in a day.
Soon, soon the flesh
The grave cave ate will be
At home on me
And I a smiling woman.
I am only thirty.
And like the cat I have nine times to die.
This is Number Three.
What a trash
To annihilate each decade.
What a million filaments.
The peanut-crunching crowd
Shoves in to see
Them unwrap me hand and foot ----
The big strip tease.
Gentlemen, ladies
These are my hands
My knees.
I may be skin and bone,
Nevertheless, I am the same, identical woman.
The first time it happened I was ten.
It was an accident.
The second time I meant
To last it out and not come back at all.
I rocked shut
As a seashell.
They had to call and call
And pick the worms off me like sticky pearls.
Dying
Is an art, like everything else.
I do it exceptionally well.
I do it so it feels like hell.
I do it so it feels real.
I guess you could day I've a call.
It's easy enough to do it in a cell.
It's easy enough to do it and stay put.
It's the theatrical
Comeback in broad day
To the same place, the same face, the same brute
Amused shout:
'A miracle!'
That knocks me out.
There is a charge
For the eyeing of my scars, there is charge
For the hearing of my heart ----
It really goes.
And there is a charge, a very large charge
For a word or a touch
Or a bit of blood
Or a piece of my hair or my clothes.
So, so, Herr Doktor.
So, Herr Enemy.
I am your opus,
I am your valuable,
The pure gold baby
That melts to a shriek.
I turn and burn.
Do not think I underestimate your great concern.
Ash, ash ----
You poke and stir.
Flesh, bone, there is nothing there ----
A cake of soap,
A wedding ring,
A gold filling.
Herr God, Herr Lucifer
Beware
Beware.
Out of the ash
I rise with my red hair
And I eat men like air.
我又做了一次。
每十年总有一年
我运筹帷幄——
一个行走着的奇迹,我的皮
明亮有如纳粹的人皮灯罩,
我的右脚
一只镇纸,
我的脸没有特征,一块上好的
犹太台布。
扯下那揩嘴布
哦,我的仇敌。
我很恐怖吗?——
这鼻子、这眼窝、这整口牙齿?
酸臭的呼吸
会在一天内散失。
墓窟吞噬的肉
很快、很快就会
在我身上落户
我,一个笑容满面的女人。
年仅三十。
犹如猫一般有九条命去死。
这是第三次。
整个儿一堆废物
每十年定期销毁。
整个儿是数百万根纤维。
一大群人嚼着花生
你推我挤地进场
看他们解开我,从手到脚——
这盛大的脱衣舞。
诸位绅士、诸位淑女
这是我的双手
我的双膝。
我可能只是皮囊与骨头,
然而,我还是同一个女人,完全一样。
第一次发生时我才十岁。
那是意外事故。
第二次我本想
坚持到底绝不回头。
我七窍皆闭
像一只海贝。
他们只得大呼小叫
拣掉我身上的蛆虫像摘下粘着的珍珠。
死
是一门艺术,一切全都如此。
我做得尤为出色。
我做了,所以它犹如地狱。
我做了,所以它感觉真实。
我想你们尽可说我在响应一种呼吁。
在地下室做,真的很容易。
真的很容易,做了就不再露面。
正是那戏剧性的
光天化日下的康复
回到同一个地点、同一张脸、同一个残忍的
被逗乐的欢呼:
“一个奇迹!”
才是我致命的一击。
有一帮人狂奔而来
想目睹我的伤痕,有一帮人狂奔而来
想听我的心跳——
它真的越跳越弱了。
还有一帮人,很大的一帮
为了只言片语或者触摸一番
为了一些鲜血
或者一缕头发或一件衣裳。
所以,就这样了,医生先生。
就这样了,仇敌先生。
我是你编了号的作品,
我是你的贵重之物,
这只纯金宝贝
熔化成一声尖叫。
我翻转我燃烧。
别以为我会低估你伟大的关怀。
灰烬,灰烬——
你拨来拨去。
肉,骨头,再无剩余——
一块肥皂,
婚戒一只,
金牙一颗。
上帝先生,魔王先生
当心啊
当心。
从灰烬之中
我会披着红发超生
并且像空气一样吃人。
Daddy
You do not do, you do not do
Any more, black shoe
In which I have lived like a foot
For thirty years, poor and white,
Barely daring to breathe or Achoo.
Daddy, I have had to kill you.
You died before I had time------
Marble-heavy, a bag full of God,
Ghastly statue with one gray toe
Big as a Frisco seal
And a head in the freakish Atlantic
Where it pours bean green over blue
In the waters off beautiful Nauset.
I used to pray to recover you.
Ach, du.
In the German tongue, in the Polish town
Scraped flat by the roller
Of wars, wars, wars.
But the name of the town is common.
My Polack friend
Says there are a dozen or two.
So I never could tell where you
Put your foot, your root,
I never could talk to you.
The tongue stuck in my jaw.
It stuck in a barb wire snare.
Ich, ich, ich, ich,
I could hardly speak.
I thought every German was you.
And the language obscene
An engine, an engine
Chuffing me off like a Jew.
A Jew to Dachau, Auschwitz, Belsen.
I began to talk like a Jew.
I think I may well be a Jew.
The snows of the Tyrol, the clear beer of Vienna
Are not very pure or true.
With my gipsy ancestress and my weird luck
And my Taroc pack and my Taroc pack
I may be a bit of a Jew.
I have always been scared of you,
With your Luftwaffe, your gobbledygoo.
And your neat mustache
And your Aryan eye, bright blue.
Panzer-man, panzer-man, O You------
Not God but a swastika
So black no sky could squeak through.
Every woman adores a Fascist,
The boot in the face, the brute
Brute heart of a brute like you.
You stand at the blackboard, daddy,
In the picture I have of you,
A cleft in your chin instead of your foot
But no less a devil for that, no not
Any less the black man who
Bit my pretty red heart in two.
I was ten when they buried you.
At twenty I tried to die
And get back, back, back to you.
I thought even the bones would do.
But they pulled me out of the sack,
And they stuck me together with glue.
And then I knew what to do.
I made a model of you,
A man in black with a Meinkampf look
And a love of the rack and the screw.
And I said I do, I do.
So daddy, I'm finally through.
The black telephone's off at the root,
The voices just can't worm through.
If I've killed one man, I've killed two------
The vampire who said he was you
And drank my blood for a year,
Seven years, if you want to know.
Daddy, you can lie back now.
There's a stake in your fat black heart
And the villagers never liked you.
They are dancing and stamping on you.
They always knew it was you.
Daddy, daddy, you bastard, I'm through你不中用了,不中用了
你不再中用,黑色的鞋子
我犹如一只脚在里面活了
三十年,苍白而可怜,
几乎不敢出声呼吸或打个喷嚏。
老爸,我不得不杀掉你。
你死亡时我还没有时机——
大理石似的沉重,满腹上帝的皮囊,
可怖的雕像长着一只灰白的脚趾
大得像一只旧金山海豹
一颗脑袋深藏于变幻莫测的大西洋,
在其中它倾洒着青豆的黛绿,
覆盖了美丽的瑙塞特港外那片水域的蔚蓝。
我曾经常祈祷以便重新把你找到。
哦,把你找到。
你说德国话,生于那个波兰小镇
它已被战争滚轧机碾平,
被战争,战争,战争。
但它的名字实在平常。
我的波兰籍朋友说
这种名字的小镇有一两打之多。
所以我永远说不清楚
你去过哪里,到过何处,
我永远不能向你追问。
舌头卡在嘴里不能出声。
死死卡在带刺的铁丝网里。
我,我,我,我,
我说话难以成声。
我认为每个德国人都是你。
而那语言很脏
一辆火车头,一辆火车头
在间歇的欻欻声中把我像犹太人发落。
一个遣送到达豪,奥斯威辛或悲尔森的犹太人。
我开始像犹太人一样说话。
我想我最好还是做个犹太人。
蒂洛尔的雪,维也纳的清啤
不见得多么纯多么真。
我的祖先有个吉普赛女人,以及我的神秘好运
再加上我的泰逻牌算命扑克,我的算命扑克
我真可能有点犹太血缘。
我一直对你都是战战兢兢,
你的德国空军,你的军痞口吻。
你的胡子修得齐整
你的亚利安眼睛,明澈湛蓝。
装甲兵,装甲兵,哦,你——
不是上帝而是一个纳粹党徽
黑得不会露出一丝蓝天。
每个女人都崇拜某个法西斯分子,
脸上的黑靴子,像你一样的畜生
长着的一颗畜生一般的兽心。
你站在黑板前面,老爸,
站在我记忆中的你的照片里,
一道裂痕留在下巴而非脚上
但你还是与魔鬼相当,绝对
与那黑衣男人难分彼此
他曾把我那娇红的心撕咬两半。
他们掩埋你时我才十岁。
我二十岁时试图一死了之
试图向你回归,回归,回归。
我想哪怕只不过是白骨一堆。
但他们把我从死睡中唤起,
用胶水把我粘合成一个整体。
于是我明白应该如何。
我以你做出一个模型,
一个黑衣男人带着《我的奋斗》的表情
以及对于行李架和螺丝的热切。
我说我愿意,我愿意。
所以,老爸,我终于了结。
那黑色的电话断在了根部,
声音怎么爬也爬不过去。
如果我杀掉了一人,就等于杀掉两个——
也杀掉了那吸血鬼,他声称是你
他饮吸我的血已有一年,
已经七年,如果你真想知道。
老爸,你现在尽可安息。
你肥大的黑心中钉着一根木桩
村民们从来就不曾喜欢过你。
他们在你上面又是跳舞又是跺脚,
下面躺着的是你,对此他们一直了解。
老爸,老爸,你这混蛋,我已了结。 -
2006-01-30
柔软的年
过年啦,把艾丫同学的这首诗翻出来,大家新年快乐

柔软的年
一
屋子里,光线孱弱
移近窗口,一抬脸就看见
年,像只热热的妖精儿跳到我的嘴唇上
我们吻了一个上午
旁边的卷儿羊妒忌了
发慌,尾巴上开出两个小杈年抱紧我
站在一块摄氏5度的草坪中间
看两朵黄花照镜子二
寒流用一根丝巾 扎紧腰
烟花在空中再一次裂开
我搂着年,没有睡着我们挤在一张沙发上,艰难地
剥一枚白色的坚果
一个晚上没停,手指尖也痛了年,这只红头发的猫儿
躲在我的毛衣里
恨着寂寞,零星地发出叹息三
这样的夜难得有一次
年跳着一支素净的舞蹈
踢踏 踢踏 踢踏显得很静末了,是谁拉响警报
红色的箭头朝下,没有风笛
拆开的一只盒子里
只装着一种柔软和一种扭动 -
2006-01-29
Papas fritas
好好听哦~~好好听哦,严重感谢slow和op的硬盘。
-
2006-01-22
最近爱上灯光
奇怪,最近晚上都是开着灯在寝室里,一直都喜欢黑洞洞的,电脑屏幕好闪~~~
大概是太久没见阳光了,终于还是有点想家
昨天在mono家看到的床和我高中时候睡的那张好像,所以就激动地抱着被子...
mono说阳光,说他喝很多酒,说羊,说戈壁,说风大
还说女人丑..
-
2006-01-22
收藏,ayaaya
魔兽之天盟地誓三点钟到了
我的女神发出神圣的命令
弓箭手系上斗篷
猎手跨上黑豹,吃饱的
温柔可爱的大猫
我们一起出发去打垮敌人
最后一次把绣衣染满鲜血
从此嫁给
我们强壮的德鲁伊
聆听树妖的舞蹈
在我们的床上夜夜奏响
叮叮珰就这么想着想着
睡着在异乡的床上
美丽的精灵,爱人,我的女神
请命令我落死
命令我的魂魄散落
在不死亡灵的坟地旁种满会开花的树
他们黑色的泥土能污浊你的姐妹吗?
能杀害这柔弱的清脆的身体吗?梦着我就睡着了。
姐姐,当我拥有你那双翅膀
我不会将尖刀指向他们
而是这么盼望着去死在他们的坟地。 -
2005-12-31
Norah Jones,喜欢中...
Norah Jones - Come Away With Me
Norah Jones - Feels Like Home (2004)
Norah Jones - Sleepless Nights 2005
Peter.Malick.Group.With.Norah.Jones - New.York.City
-
2005-12-31
Refugees--The Tears
01 refugees
02 southern rain
03 feels like monday
04 branded
05 break away
有点喜欢
-
01 - The end of love
02 - Tropics of love
03 - Broken world
04 - Why i stay
05 - The invitation
06 - Did you wonder
07 - A sign on the road
08 - Sympathy crime
09 - The visitor
10 - The waiter #4
11 - A cry for love
12 - Before the people
13 - Only one way
14 - Finger prints
A cry for love
-
2005-12-18
The Czars-Paint the moon
01 - Paint the moon
02 - Angel eyes
03 - The Czars - Where the boys are
就听到这些
-
2005-12-18
Cat Power - The Greatest
01 - the greatest
02 - could we
03 - lived in bars
04 - islands
05 - after it all
06 - the moon
07 - living proof
08 - empty shell
09 - willie
10 - where is my love
11 - hate
12 - love & communication
-
2005-11-11
555
我希望有一天,所有的男孩爱上男孩,所有的女孩爱女孩,永不改变
——德瑞克 加曼
beacutiful day~! -
2005-11-07
果园(42)——里尔克
今夜某种东西在空气里流逝
使我们低下了头;
我们想为囚犯祈祷
他们的生命已停息。
于是我们想起终止的生命……
那不再走向死亡的生命
那里没有未来;
我们必须徒劳地坚强
徒劳地悲伤。
所有的白天都踯躅在眼前,
所有的夜晚都坠入深渊,
而意识里亲密的童年
在那一点上抹去。
我们的心太苍老无从去想一个孩子
并非全然因为生活充满敌意;
而是我们对生活撒了谎,
被困在命数不变的监牢。







