2008-03-31
Les notes au hasard ！ 电影，诗，情！
忽然发现明天就是4月1日。4月1日是个好日子，可以用来表白、分手或者自杀，勉勉强强能留下点颜面。
人生嘛真亦假时假亦真。
电影配乐多见，配诗倒是不寻常。
We don't read and write poetry
because it's cute.
We read and write poetry because
we are members of the human race...
and the human race
is filled with passion.
And medicine, law, business,
engineering...
these are noble pursuits
and necessary to sustain life.
But poetry, beauty...
romance, love...
these are what we stay alive for.
连续看了3遍《死亡诗社》。对ROBIN WILLIAMS有着特别的好感，他的某些神情像极了年少时候倾慕的人。找来了那些零星诗句的整篇，热血沸腾。雅克抱怨我骚情的厉害，用古诗调情还不够，连带洋鬼子的玩意也爱起来了。
I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived. I did not wish to live what was not life, living is so dear; nor did I wish to practise resignation, unless it was quite necessary. I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life, to live so sturdily and Spartan-like as to put to rout all that was not life, to cut a broad swath and shave close, to drive life into a corner, and reduce it to its lowest terms, and, if it proved to be mean, why then to get the whole and genuine meanness of it, and publish its meanness to the world; or if it were sublime, to know it by experience, and be able to give a true account of it in my next excursion. For most men, it appears to me, are in a strange uncertainty about it, whether it is of the devil or of God, and have somewhat hastily concluded that it is the chief end of man here to "glorify God and enjoy him forever."
Henry David Thoreau:Walden,or Life in the Woods
我到林中去，因为我希望谨慎地生活，只面对生活的基本事实，看看我是否学得到生活要教育我的东西，免得到了临死的时候，才发现我根本就没有生活过。我不希望度过非生活的生活，生活是那样的可爱；我却也不愿意去修行过隐逸的生活，除非是万不得已。我要生活得深深地把生命的精髓都吸到，要生活得稳稳当当，生活得斯巴达式的，以便根除一切非生活的东西，划出一块刈割的面积来，细细地刈割或修剪，把生活压缩到一个角隅里去，把它缩小到最低的条件中，如果它被证明是卑微的，那么就把那真正的卑微全部认识到，并把它的卑微之处公布于世界；或者，如果它是崇高的，就用切身的经历来体会它，在我下一次远游时，也可以作出一个真实的报道。因为，我看，大多数人还确定不了他们的生活是属于魔鬼的，还是属于上帝的呢，然而又多少有点轻率地下了判断，认为人生的主要目标是“归荣耀于神，并永远从神那里得到喜悦”。（徐迟译）
以上是THOREAU的《瓦尔登湖》。1845年，28岁的THOREAU在好友EMERSON的林地里的WALDEN湖畔盖了座木屋住下，此后两年多里他过着清心寡欲，自给自足的生活，并时常记下自己的所思所想所悟，就有了这样一本书。我无语了很久，神啊，我28岁的时候能干点什么呢？
O CAPTAIN! MY CAPTAIN!
O Captain! my Captain! our fearful trip is done,
The ship has weather'd every rack, the prize we sought is won,
The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting,
While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring;
But O heart! heart! heart!
O the bleeding drops of red,
Where on the deck my Captain lies,
Fallen cold and dead.
O Captain! my Captain! rise up and hear the bells;
Rise up&emdash;for you the flag is flung&emdash;for you the bugle trills,
For you bouquets and ribbon'd wreaths&emdash;for you the shores a-crowding,
For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning;
Here Captain! dear father!
The arm beneath your head!
It is some dream that on the deck,
You've fallen cold and dead.
My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still,
My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor will,
The ship is anchor'd safe and sound, its voyage closed and done,
From fearful trip the victor ship comes in with object won:
Exult O shores, and ring O bells!
But I with mournful tread,
Walk the deck my Captain lies,
Fallen cold and dead.
以上是WHITMAN原作，出自《草叶集：纪念林肯总统》LEAVES OF GRASS:Memories of President Lincoln.不知道为什么我总觉得老惠的诗诵读起来唇齿间有快感，不愉快的时候很发泄情绪。也许是我唐突老惠也说不定。
Sonnet 18
Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?
Thou art more lovely and more temperate:
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
And summer's lease hath all too short a date:
Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,
And often is his gold complexion dimmed,
And every fair from fair sometime declines,
By chance, or nature's changing course untrimmed:
But thy eternal summer shall not fade,
Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow'st,
Nor shall death brag thou wand'rest in his shade,
When in eternal lines to time thou grow'st,
So long as men can breathe or eyes can see,
So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.
以上是William Shakespeare的第18号十四行诗。网络牛人称此诗一译便死尤其最后两句，建议Hana挑战一下。
Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bones.
Slience the pianos and with muffled drum.
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.
Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead.
Scribbling on the sky the message: He Is Dead.
Put crepe bows around the white necks of the public doves.
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.
He was my Nourth, my South, my East and West.
My working week and my Sunday rest.
My moon, my midnight, my talk, my song.
I thought that love would last for ever, I was wrong.
The stars are not wanted now, put out everyone.
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun.
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood.
For nothing now are evercome to any good.
奥登的诗，又是一同性恋。和朋友感叹同性恋们大概能集两性感情优点于一身，所以那么敏感细腻。《四个婚礼和一个葬礼》引用了这首诗。第一次听到这首诗来自我的高中同桌L，能在BT高考压力下谈这些当时让我很兴奋。大学后我欣然接受了L送给我的英语名字lolita，L倒不觉得我loli只是认定我身上有不伦之恋的气息。
I can write the saddest poem of all tonight.
Write, for instance: "The night is full of stars,
and the stars, blue, shiver in the distance."
The night wind whirls in the sky and sings.
I can write the saddest poem of all tonight.
I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too.
On nights like this, I held her in my arms.
I kissed her so many times under the infinite sky.
She loved me, sometimes I loved her.
How could I not have loved her large, still eyes?
I can write the saddest poem of all tonight.
To think I don't have her. To feel that I've lost her.
To hear the immense night, more immense without her.
And the poem falls to the soul as dew to grass.
What does it matter that my love couldn't keep her.
The night is full of stars and she is not with me.
That's all. Far away, someone sings. Far away.
My soul is lost without her.
As if to bring her near, my eyes search for her.
My heart searches for her and she is not with me.
The same night that whitens the same trees.
We, we who were, we are the same no longer.
I no longer love her, true, but how much I loved her.
My voice searched the wind to touch her ear.
Someone else's. She will be someone else's. As she once
belonged to my kisses.
Her voice, her light body. Her infinite eyes.
I no longer love her, true, but perhaps I love her.
Love is so short and oblivion so long.
Because on nights like this I held her in my arms,
my soul is lost without her.
Although this may be the last pain she causes me,
and this may be the last poem I write for her
Pablo Neruda的诗。电影《邮差》基本就是围绕老聂和诗来展开的。老聂的成名作《二十首情诗和一首绝望之歌》，是我老爹送的一份不恰当的生日礼物。那是老聂19岁的作品，老爹大概想告诉我出名要趁早这个道理。
据说在拉美男人把妹的时候都要送诗配花表达爱恋。曾经想撺掇中文系的大姐们编一本怎么教男人们用诗词优雅的调情的小册子，后来也不过白日一梦。现在的男人连小小赞美都懒得说出口又哪有热情陪你调情呢。大把钞票奉上开门见山，比弯弯绕的酸诗实际得多。
姐妹们纷纷义愤填膺，发誓让儿子从小诵读诗词，调情从娃娃抓起。
