我們稱之為快樂
我們稱之為快樂
閉氣
浮浮沈沈 被哀傷
溺斃 磨碎
舔啜潮濕的孤獨
不斷買新的鞋子 不斷丟掉左腳的
住在菊花園氹氹轉
把門窗關緊
想像抑鬱 盲目地瘋狂地笑
等待被發現
還沒寫出的字句
我
Tuesday, September 26, 2006
Monday, September 25, 2006
文字螞蟻
文字本身就是意義/別把文字當一種工具/能夠說明的不用寫/寫不能言明的/才需要技巧/一種唯一值得學的寫作技巧/(結果我寫得很笨)/
這世界有太多字/太多obscene的字/繁繁碎碎 喋喋不休/
我愛，我也恨/如此漂亮，如此醜
Friday, September 15, 2006
時差的關係
時差的關係，凌晨四時多還未能睡去，隨手拿起書剛打開，便看到了這詩：
Life when you wait.
Performance without rehearsal.
Body without fitting.
Head without reflection.
I don't know the role I'm playing.
I only know it's mine, non-convertible.
What the play is about
I must guess only after it's begun.
Poorly prepared for the dignity of life,
I barely keep up with the pace of the action imposed.
I improvised, though I loathe improvisation.
At every step I stumble over my lack of expertise.
My way of life smacks of provincialism.
My instincts are those of a rank amateur.
Stage fright, although an excuse, is all the more humiliating.
Extenuating circumstances I perceive as cruel.
Not to be retracted are words and reflexes,
unfinished is the counts of stars,
character buttoned up on the run like an overcoat—
these are the pitiful results of such haste.
If only on Wednesday could be practiced ahead of time,
or if only one Thursday could again be repeated!
But here it is nearly Friday, with a scenario I don’t know
Is it fair – I ask
(with hoarseness in my voice,
because I wasn't even allowed to clear my throat in the wings).
Illusory is the thought that this is just a pop quiz
taken on temporary premise. No
I stand amid the scenery and see how solid it is.
I am struck by the accuracy of all the props.
The revolving stage has long been in operation.
Even the most distinct nebulae have been switched on.
Ah, I have no doubt that this is opening night.
And whatever I may do
will be forever changed into that which I have done.
Life While you Wait ~~ Wislawa Szymborska
Life when you wait.
Performance without rehearsal.
Body without fitting.
Head without reflection.
I don't know the role I'm playing.
I only know it's mine, non-convertible.
What the play is about
I must guess only after it's begun.
Poorly prepared for the dignity of life,
I barely keep up with the pace of the action imposed.
I improvised, though I loathe improvisation.
At every step I stumble over my lack of expertise.
My way of life smacks of provincialism.
My instincts are those of a rank amateur.
Stage fright, although an excuse, is all the more humiliating.
Extenuating circumstances I perceive as cruel.
Not to be retracted are words and reflexes,
unfinished is the counts of stars,
character buttoned up on the run like an overcoat—
these are the pitiful results of such haste.
If only on Wednesday could be practiced ahead of time,
or if only one Thursday could again be repeated!
But here it is nearly Friday, with a scenario I don’t know
Is it fair – I ask
(with hoarseness in my voice,
because I wasn't even allowed to clear my throat in the wings).
Illusory is the thought that this is just a pop quiz
taken on temporary premise. No
I stand amid the scenery and see how solid it is.
I am struck by the accuracy of all the props.
The revolving stage has long been in operation.
Even the most distinct nebulae have been switched on.
Ah, I have no doubt that this is opening night.
And whatever I may do
will be forever changed into that which I have done.
Life While you Wait ~~ Wislawa Szymborska
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