2016年11月29日 星期二

Requiem for a Friend by Rainer Maria Rilke

Requiem for a Friend
by Rainer Maria Rilke
I have my dead, and I have let them go,
and was amazed to see them so contented,
so soon at home in being dead, so cheerful,
so unlike their reputation. Only you
return; brush past me, loiter, try to knock
against something, so that the sound reveals
your presence, Oh don’t take from me what I
am slowly learning. I’m sure you have gone astray
if you are moved to homesickness for something
in this dimension. We transform these things;
they aren’t real, they are only the reflections
upon the polished surface of our being, …
The Paris Review is a literary magazine featuring original writing, art, and in-depth interviews with famous writers.
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2016年11月28日 星期一

"Song: Memory, Hither Come" by William Blake

Poet and painter William Blake was born in Soho, London, England on this day in 1757.
"Song: Memory, Hither Come" by William Blake
Memory, hither come, 
And tune your merry notes;
And, while upon the wind
Your music floats,
I'll pore upon the stream
Where sighing lovers dream,
And fish for fancies as they pass
Within the watery glass.
I'll drink of the clear stream,
And hear the linnet's song;
And there I'll lie and dream
The day along:
And, when night comes, I'll go
To places fit for woe,
Walking along the darken'd valley
With silent Melancholy.
*
This is a selection of the poet's work, including all the great lyrics and the more important prophetic books. In her introduction the poet and critic expounds Blake's esoteric theory and shows how it helped to create a poetry which is unlike any other. The tigers that crouched in Blake's baleful spiritual forests, the roses and sunflowers whose mystical properties he rendered with such accurate music, the angels with whom he wrestled and who delivered prophetic books to him late at night, were literally more real to him than the London, where, in the period of the French Revolution, he lived out his life of poverty and indignant isolation. One of England's great lyric poets; one of Europe's great visionaries. Introduction by Kathleen Raine. READ more here: http://knopfdoubleday.com/book/14652/poems-and-prophecies/

2016年11月27日 星期日

台大文學院的迴廊 【齊邦媛】;"A Cradle Song" byWilliam Blake,1757-1827


Poet, painter, and printmaker William Blake was born in Soho, London, England on this day in 1757.
"A Cradle Song" by William Blake
Sweet dreams form a shade,
O'er my lovely infants head.
Sweet dreams of pleasant streams,
By happy silent moony beams
Sweet sleep with soft down.
Weave thy brows an infant crown.
Sweet sleep Angel mild,
Hover o'er my happy child.
Sweet smiles in the night,
Hover over my delight.
Sweet smiles Mothers smiles,
All the livelong night beguiles.
Sweet moans, dovelike sighs,
Chase not slumber from thy eyes,
Sweet moans, sweeter smiles,
All the dovelike moans beguiles.
Sleep sleep happy child,
All creation slept and smil'd.
Sleep sleep, happy sleep.
While o'er thee thy mother weep
Sweet babe in thy face,
Holy image I can trace.
Sweet babe once like thee.
Thy maker lay and wept for me
Wept for me for thee for all,
When he was an infant small.
Thou his image ever see.
Heavenly face that smiles on thee,
Smiles on thee on me on all,
Who became an infant small,
Infant smiles are His own smiles,
Heaven & earth to peace beguiles.
*
Since its first publication in 1965, this edition has been widely hailed as the best available text of Blake's poetry and prose. Now revised, if includes up-to-date work on variants, chronology of poems and critical commentary by Harold Bloom.



最近數月 迴廊上多擺出"中外文學" 或者昔日學生時代之教科書

今天拾到一本德文書 除了徐勒兩字之外一概認不得 作者 PROFILE
另外依本ENGLISH NOVEL 是英國地圖

台大文學院的迴廊

  • 2009-07-17
  • 中國時報
  • 【齊邦媛】

 這敞朗、陳舊的迴廊,以大半圓的弧形,穩坐在台北帝大(創立於昭和三年,1928年)初建的校園中心,兩端開著小小的門,中間包著一個小小的院子,和我三十年前初見時完全沒有改變。在台灣漫 長的夏天,隱約可以感覺到迴旋的、流動的文學餘韻(whispering coolness),安頓我的身心。離開我的教室之後,他們投入現實的人生,那些青年人之中,總該有幾個人是我的知音,在他們中年的喜怒哀樂中,記得一些 句子,一些思想,似在不同的落葉林中聽到的聲音。若如此,我的一生即未白活。
 由那幾步台階走下來,穿過如今已不存在的舟山路,進入台大舊 牆內的校園,穿過校警室、福利社,從行政大樓和農化館間的小徑出來,立刻面對文學院的紅樓。橫切過種滿了杜鵑花樹的椰林大道和紀念傅斯年校長的傅鐘,即可 從氣勢寬闊的門廊進入迴廊。對於我,似乎有一種「儀式」似的意義。這敞朗、陳舊的迴廊,以大半圓的弧形,穩坐在台北帝大(創立於昭和三年,1928年)初 建的校園中心,兩端開著小小的門,中間包著一個小小的院子,和我三十年前初見時完全沒有改變。在台灣漫長的夏天,隱約可以感覺到迴旋的、流動的文學餘韻(whispering coolness),安頓我的身心。
 很難與記憶妥協的是,外文系的辦公室,已經搬到樓下,現在是個熱鬧的地方了。進了院門樓下右轉一排大屋子,只有這一間門經常開著,迎面是 一座木櫃,上面放著一把當年標準辦公室用的大鋁茶壺,沒有力氣從木櫃上提下那把茶壺的時候,你就該退休了。茶葉裝在白色小麻袋裡,由總務處分發給各系辦公 室。我至今記得咖啡般的茶色與苦澀的茶味,兩節課之間實在太渴,也常得去喝一大杯,茶幾乎永遠是冷的。木櫃有數十個格子,當作教師的信箱,後面桌椅相連, 坐著五位助教和一位事務員,川流不息的人和事。一直到我退休,外文系沒有一間真正的教員休息室,上課前後的「交誼」似乎都在迴廊「舉行」。我至今記得,有 時從「二十四教室」出來等下一節課鐘響,相當疲勞地靠窗台站著,會看到走廊那一端出現一位多年不見的老友,免不了有「驚呼熱中腸」的場面,然後匆匆忙忙在 粗糙的木窗檯上寫下電話號碼,各自奔往教室。
 那時外文系編制已近八十人,還有許多位兼任老師。第一批開課的老師如英千里、王國華、黃瓊玖、蘇維熊、李本題、夏濟安、黎烈文、周學普、曹欽源、曾約農等都已離開。一九七○年以後的台大外 文系,有人戲曰:「雕欄玉砌應猶在,只是朱顏改。」在那陳舊斑駁但敞亮可愛的迴廊,來來去去的學生有許多年是聯考第一志願分發來的,心理上也許有置身雕欄 玉砌之感。而課程確實有很「現代化」的大改變。最大的推動者,恰好一位姓朱,一位姓顏。朱立民和顏元叔先生在一九六○年代後期由美國拿到文學博士學位歸 國,在台大校園被稱為「稀有貴重金屬」;不久另一位文學博士胡耀恆先生也回到台大,以最新方式講授西洋戲劇,帶領學生以比較文學方法關懷中國戲曲的發展。
 影響最大的改革是重編大一英文課本,以增強全校學生的英文能力,擴展人文和科學方面的知識。為本系一年級學生開設「文學作品讀法」,列「中國文學史」為必修課,此課前後有臺靜農、葉慶炳、林文月、柯慶明等中文系名師授課,不僅使學生真正認識中國文學的傳統和演變,也增強中文和外文兩系的師生情誼,影響學生日後進修的視野,甚為深遠。
 「英國文學史」改為兩年十二個學分的課程:第一年由中古英文時期(The Middle Ages,1485)到十八世紀(the Eighteenth Century);第二年由浪漫時期(The Romantic Period,1785-1830)到二十世紀(The Twentieth Century)。 使用的課本以重要作品為主,不僅是背景、潮流、發展的敘述而已。我教的時候已使用全世界的標準本,諾頓版的《英國文學史》(The Norton Anthology of English Literature),共約五千多頁。
 在台大我一直講授英國文學史第二年課程,有一年顏元叔先生出國,由我代課,上了英國文學史第一年課程。此課我在中興大學教過四年,有過相 當研究。同一星期之內要按不同的進度調整自己的思緒,在二年級的教室講八世紀北海英雄史詩〈貝爾伍夫〉(Beowulf),甚至還須放一兩次古英文發音的 唱片。第二天則在三年級班上費力地闡釋十八世紀奧秘浪漫詩人威廉.布雷克〈心靈旅 者〉(William Blake,1757-1827,The Mental Traveler),此詩描寫兩個反方向轉動的循環,自然與人生,其中奧秘實非課堂中可以完全闡釋。我在中學時曾讀過一篇英國人寫的文章,他說人腦裡似有 許多隔間(compartments)儲藏不同的知識。我在腦中清清楚楚區分英國文學史各階段重要作品,各自為它的時代璀璨發光,所以自己並沒有時空混淆 或時代錯置(anachronism)之虞。
 ●
 我回到台大另一座安身立命的基石,是自一九七○年到一九八八年擔任中文系和歷史系研究所共同開設的「高級英文」課程,它是我最穩定、最強大的挑戰,也是我最樂意接下的挑戰。
 那個年代,幾乎所有文學院研究所的學生都有進修的企圖心,除外文系稍好,中文系、歷史系的外文能力不夠深入研究文化,因此閱讀的幅度、深 度和速度都必須加強。一九七○年,我開始教第一班時,為測量他們的思考和英文深度,先油印一些有關世界文化的英文單篇文章,給他們讀後回答我一些問題。我 驚訝地發現,這些研究所一年級的學生,很少讀過西方文化觀念的作品,更未曾有過與一本本英文原著奮鬥的經驗。我認為要達到任何語文的深處 (advanced depth),必須由完整的書才能看到比較完整的看法,不能只閱讀零星的選文,所以我希望上學期至少讀兩本,下學期讀三、四本。當我說出這個計畫時,引起 一陣輕聲的驚呼:「怎麼?要讀五六本原文書嗎?」但是,我了解,台大研究所學生不會承認什麼是「困難」的。
 我自幼讀書,最愛那些令我反覆思索的書。在美國讀書或到歐洲訪問,關注比較文學的領域,以東方人的心態(mentality)看西方多思 辨的文化;再由西方的觀點看中國豐美的文學,往返之間,天地極寬,可以與這班學生認真討論的甚多,很值得我悉心計劃。選取內容豐富、文字優美的書,對我不 是難題。
 對我最大的難題卻是如何在同時對不同領域的人說話。中文系和歷史系是我所尊重的專業領域,他們在校選修的課程不同,未來進修和工作的目的也大不相同,我如何能引起他們共同的興趣,達到「高級」英文的程度?唯一可行之路,也許是訴諸於共同的文學心靈。
 那時是以美蘇為主,冷戰熾熱的世界,台灣在反共抗俄二十年後,禁書名單很長,可作為教材的英文資料多來自美國,最「前衛」的新書只有極少 數在台大附近,如歐亞、雙葉等幾家書店,照相盜印文化、心理或哲學方面的書,裝訂非常簡陋。幸好可以流通的《時代》(Time)雜誌,每期有十大最暢銷作 品(Ten Best Sellers)的名單,分為小說與非小說兩種。照相本常常可以在中山北路幾家書店買到,據說是有一些越戰美國軍人需要,所以我經常到中山北路尋書。常去 的是敦煌書店,書單出來後就可以買到翻印本,「效率」極高,也是一種盛況。我至今記得自己精神奕奕地提著新出的洋書走在中山北路人行道上,回家連夜讀著。我能用作教材的書必須言之有物,能引起青年人興趣的書,文字優美清晰,政治立場並非那時流行的狂右或狂左派,不能太厚,也不可太薄,必須是學生買得起的台灣翻版。
 雖然我並未按年詳記,但即以今日記憶搜集所及,我們用的教材竟也可以某種程度地反映那二十年間西方文化關懷的變化,它們在台灣被翻印和閱讀,也產生了相當的影響。
 ●
 那十八年上我那門文學院「必選」的高級英文課的學生,被我逼迫研讀原文書,必須回答我隨堂測驗的無數個「為什麼」(“why”)。那些問 題必須要讀完全書才能用英文回答,沒有逃避或取巧的門徑,一年中大約問答了近百題。十八年歲月,我竭心盡力將這門課達到可能的「高級」程度。那四百多位青 年,而今都約五十歲左右,按人生自然的栽種和收穫現象,多數成為社會的中堅份子,他們今日戲稱為「黃埔一期」的學生,多數在學術、教育、文化界服務,不乏 在文史領域有傑出成就者,黃俊傑、陳萬益、呂興昌、張淑香、陳芳明、陳芳妹、杜正勝、陳秋坤、林馨琴、周伯戡、葉其忠、林瑞明等,至今三十多年仍常有聯 繫。
 顏娟英與陳芳妹為我主編的筆會英文季刊撰寫文化藝術資產專論十多年。李孝悌在我編輯《齊世英先生訪談錄》時大力協助。陳幸蕙多年來伴我飲 茶談心。二○○四年我去美國小住,她在台北與隱地全力主編,將我的散文集《一生中的一天》出版;一九八○年以後的鄭毓瑜、洪淑苓、梅家玲,助我筆會季刊選 材,真是「有事弟子服其勞」最真實美好的例子。最晚到了陳昌明、康韻梅、張鈞莉那一班教完,正逢我遭遇車禍,他們不停地去汀州街三軍總醫院看我,令年輕醫生們非常羨慕。如今他們都已是社會中堅分子。即使我最後一班學生也都各有成就了。這十八年間無論各人遭際,政治立場等等如何不同,我們師生之間的「革命感情」是不變的。
 離開我的教室之後,他們投入現實的人生,那些青年人之中,總該有幾個人是我的知音,在他們中年的喜怒哀樂中,記得一些句子,一些思想,似在不同的落葉林中聽到的聲音。若如此,我的一生即未白活。
 (本文摘刊自天下文化出版作者新書《巨流河》)

2016年11月25日 星期五

"I Had Been Hungry All The Years"

"I had been hungry all the years-
My noon had come, to dine-
I, trembling, drew the table near
And touched the curious wine."
― from "I Had Been Hungry All The Years"

2016年11月24日 星期四

Laurence Sterne, who penned the rude and anarchic "Tristram Shandy",

Laurence Sterne, who penned the rude and anarchic "Tristram Shandy", was born on November 24th 1713. His influence ran deep, from Samuel Taylor Coleridge to James Joyce
Author Laurence Sterne was born on this day in 1713
ECONOMIST.COM
近年,此書 "Tristram Shandy"有漢譯:


2016年11月21日 星期一

Survivors by Siegfried Sassoon


 Military Cross (The Fitzwilliam Museum), Battle of Loos, Survivors

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Battle_of_Loos

---

by Siegfried Sassoon


https://allpoetry.com/Survivors

Survivors

No doubt they’ll soon get well; the shock and strain  
  Have caused their stammering, disconnected talk.  
Of course they’re ‘longing to go out again,’—  
  These boys with old, scared faces, learning to walk.  
They’ll soon forget their haunted nights; their cowed  
  Subjection to the ghosts of friends who died,—  
Their dreams that drip with murder; and they’ll be proud  
  Of glorious war that shatter’d all their pride…  
Men who went out to battle, grim and glad;  
Children, with eyes that hate you, broken and mad.


~~~


https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qIzHt1Dxu8k

November - Military Cross




The Military Cross (MC) is the third-level military decoration awarded to officers and (since 1993) other ranks of the British Armed Forces, and used to be awarded to officers of other Commonwealth countries.

Military Cross - Wikipedia
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Military_Cross

2016年11月17日 星期四

Poems by Carol Ann Duffy


Carol Ann Duffy
Poet
Dame Carol Ann Duffy DBE FRSL is a Scottish poet and playwright. She is Professor of Contemporary Poetry at Manchester Metropolitan University, and was appointed Britain's Poet Laureate in May 2009. Wikipedia
BornDecember 23, 1955 (age 60), Glasgow, United Kingdom
It's always good when women win things in fiction because it tends to be more male-dominated, unlike poetry, which is more equal.
I write quite a lot of sonnets, and I think of them almost as prayers: short and memorable, something you can recite.
Christmas is taken very seriously in this household. I believe in Father Christmas, and there's no way I'd do anything to undermine that belief.
達菲(Carol Ann Duffy)這樣說:「愛是天分,世界是愛的隱喻。」


Poems by Carol Ann Duffy

Ship
Sung
The Look
If I Was Dead
The Scottish Prince
How many sailors to sail a ship?
Safe Sounds
Spell
Havisham
Valentine
Originally
Mrs Midas
Anne Hathaway
War Photographer
The DarkCarol Ann Duffy

Ship
的隱喻。」
In the end, it was nothing more than the toy boat of a boy on the local park’s lake, where I walked with you. But I knelt down to watch it arrive, its white sail shy with amber light, the late sun bronzing the wave that lifted it up, my ship coming in with its cargo of joy.

Carol Ann Duffy


from Rapture (London: Picador, 2005)
Reproduced by permission of the publisher, Pan Macmillan

2016年11月12日 星期六

Laurence Binyon’s poem ‘For the Fallen’ on Armistice Day

‘They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old'  此句似乎被某詩人"拿來"用在悼"Keats"上
Laurence Binyon’s poem ‘For the Fallen’ on Armistice Day.
http://bit.ly/2fIQM95

View the 'Manuscript of 'For the Fallen' by Laurence Binyon', on the British Library's website.
BL.UK

2016年11月11日 星期五

"Jazz Band in a Parisian Cabaret", "Summer Nights" (1925) "As I Grew Older" by Langston Hughes

Everyman's Library

James Mercer Langston Hughes died in New York City, on this day in 1967 (aged 65).

"Jazz Band in a Parisian Cabaret" by Langston Hughes
Play that thing,
Jazz band!
Play it for the lords and ladies,
For the dukes and counts,
For the whores and gigolos,
For the American millionaires,
And the school teachers
Out for a spree.
Play it,
Jazz band!
You know that tune
That laughs and cries at the same time.
You know it.
May I?
Mais oui.
Mein Gott!
Parece una rumba.
Play it, jazz band!
You've got seven languages to speak in
And then some,
Even if you do come from Georgia.
Can I go home wid yuh, sweetie?
*



"Summer Nights" (1925) by Langston Hughes (1902-1967)
The sounds
Of the Harlem night
Drop one by one into stillness.
The last player-piano is closed.
The last victrola ceases with the
“Jazz Boy Blues.”
The last crying baby sleeps
And the night becomes
Still as a whispering heartbeat.
I toss
Without rest in the darkness,
Weary as the tired night,
My soul
Empty as the silence,
Empty with a vague,
Aching emptiness,
Desiring,
Needing someone,
Something.
I toss without rest
In the darkness
Until the new dawn,
Wan and pale,
Descends like a white mist
Into the court-yard.
*


"As I Grew Older" by Langston Hughes
It was a long time ago.
I have almost forgotten my dream.
But it was there then,
In front of me,
Bright like a sun—
My dream.
And then the wall rose,
Rose slowly,
Slowly,
Between me and my dream.
Rose until it touched the sky—
The wall.
Shadow.
I am black.
I lie down in the shadow.
No longer the light of my dream before me,
Above me.
Only the thick wall.
Only the shadow.
My hands!
My dark hands!
Break through the wall!
Find my dream!
Help me to shatter this darkness,
To smash this night,
To break this shadow
Into a thousand lights of sun,
Into a thousand whirling dreams
Of sun!
*
From the publication of his first book in 1926, Langston Hughes was hailed as the poet laureate of black America, the first to commemorate the experience of African Americans in a voice that no reader, black or white, could fail to hear. Lyrical and pungent, passionate and polemical, this volume is a treasure-an essential collection of the work of a poet whose words have entered our common language.

2016年11月10日 星期四

Cordial Words, easy street



 英文對語?:  Cordial Words,  easy street 安逸街的熱忱會

Cordial Words After Trump and Obama Meet at White House


Cordial Words After Trump and Obama Meet at White House
The Transition BeginsPresident Obama said he and President-elect Donald J. Trump had an excellent and wide-ranging conversation at the White House on Thursday.
90-Minute Meeting Was a ‘Great Honor,’ Says President-Elect
By JULIE HIRSCHFELD DAVIS


703 Easy Street by The Collapsable Hearts Club ft. Jim Biano & Petra ...

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JoQ4GidQP-k
4 days ago - Uploaded by VirulentViper
This song plays while Daryl is sleeping in his cell before being woken up by Easy Street blaring. It also plays ...
You can check out the full lyrics to "Easy Street," below — and if you're not done hating yourself, you can also listen to the song. 
We're on easy street
And it feels so sweet
'Cause the world is 'bout a treat
When you're on easy street
And we're breaking out the good champagne
We're sitting pretty on the gravy train
And when we sing every sweet refrain repeats
Right here on easy street

It's our moment in the sun
And it's only just begun
It's time to have a little fun
We're inviting you to come and see why you should be
On easy street
Yeah, we got a front row seat
O, to a life that can't be beat
Right here on easy street
It's our moment in the sun
And it's only just begun
It's time to have a little fun
And we're inviting you to come and see why you should be
On easy street
Yeah, we got a front row seat
O, to a life that can't be beat
Right here on easy street

'Cause the world is 'bout a treat
When you're on easy street

'Cause the world is 'bout a treat
When you're on easy street


easy street 喬治高"家在安逸街":easy street喻"豐衣足食、生活優裕的境界。"



cordial  熱忱的
cordial
ˈkɔːdɪəl/
adjective
  1. 1.
    warm and friendly.
    "the atmosphere was cordial and relaxed"
  2. 2.
    strongly felt.
    "I earned his cordial loathing"
noun
  1. 1.
    BRITISH
    a sweet fruit-flavoured drink.
    "wine cups and fruit cordials"
    synonyms:squashcrushconcentrate
    "I often drank water with fruit cordial"
  2. 2.
    a pleasant-tasting medicine.

2016年11月5日 星期六

"Mandalay" by Rudyard Kipling

"Mandalay" by Rudyard Kipling
By the old Moulmein Pagoda, lookin' eastward to the sea,
There's a Burma girl a-settin', and I know she thinks o' me;
For the wind is in the palm-trees, and the temple-bells they say:
"Come you back, you British soldier; come you back to Mandalay!"
Come you back to Mandalay,
Where the old Flotilla lay:
Can't you 'ear their paddles chunkin' from Rangoon to Mandalay?
On the road to Mandalay,
Where the flyin'-fishes play,
An' the dawn comes up like thunder outer China 'crost the Bay!
'Er petticoat was yaller an' 'er little cap was green,
An' 'er name was Supi-yaw-lat -- jes' the same as Theebaw's Queen,
An' I seed her first a-smokin' of a whackin' white cheroot,
An' a-wastin' Christian kisses on an 'eathen idol's foot:
Bloomin' idol made o'mud --
Wot they called the Great Gawd Budd --
Plucky lot she cared for idols when I kissed 'er where she stud!
On the road to Mandalay . . .
When the mist was on the rice-fields an' the sun was droppin' slow,
She'd git 'er little banjo an' she'd sing "~Kulla-lo-lo!~"
With 'er arm upon my shoulder an' 'er cheek agin' my cheek
We useter watch the steamers an' the ~hathis~ pilin' teak.
Elephints a-pilin' teak
In the sludgy, squdgy creek,
Where the silence 'ung that 'eavy you was 'arf afraid to speak!
On the road to Mandalay . . .
But that's all shove be'ind me -- long ago an' fur away,
An' there ain't no 'busses runnin' from the Bank to Mandalay;
An' I'm learnin' 'ere in London what the ten-year soldier tells:
"If you've 'eard the East a-callin', you won't never 'eed naught else."
No! you won't 'eed nothin' else
But them spicy garlic smells,
An' the sunshine an' the palm-trees an' the tinkly temple-bells;
On the road to Mandalay . . .
I am sick o' wastin' leather on these gritty pavin'-stones,
An' the blasted Henglish drizzle wakes the fever in my bones;
Tho' I walks with fifty 'ousemaids outer Chelsea to the Strand,
An' they talks a lot o' lovin', but wot do they understand?
Beefy face an' grubby 'and --
Law! wot do they understand?
I've a neater, sweeter maiden in a cleaner, greener land!
On the road to Mandalay . . .
Ship me somewheres east of Suez, where the best is like the worst,
Where there aren't no Ten Commandments an' a man can raise a thirst;
For the temple-bells are callin', an' it's there that I would be --
By the old Moulmein Pagoda, looking lazy at the sea;
On the road to Mandalay,
Where the old Flotilla lay,
With our sick beneath the awnings when we went to Mandalay!
On the road to Mandalay,
Where the flyin'-fishes play,
An' the dawn comes up like thunder outer China 'crost the Bay!
*
Beloved for his fanciful and engrossing children’s literature, controversial for his enthusiasm for British imperialism, Rudyard Kipling remains one of the most widely read writers of Victorian and modern English literature. In addition to writing more than two dozen works of fiction, including Kim and The Jungle Book, Kipling was a prolific poet, composing verse in every classical form from the epigram to the ode. Kipling’s most distinctive gift was for ballads and narrative poems in which he drew vivid characters in universal situations, articulating profound truths in plain language. Yet he was also a subtle, affecting anatomist of the human heart, and his deep feeling for the natural world was exquisitely expressed in his verse. He was shattered by World War I, in which he lost his only son, and his work darkened in later years but never lost its extraordinary vitality. All of these aspects of Kipling’s poetry are represented in this selection, which ranges from such well-known compositions as “Mandalay” and “If” to the less-familiar, emotionally powerful, and personal epigrams he wrote in response to the war. READ more here: http://knopfdoubleday.com/book/93146/kipling-poems/

2016年11月2日 星期三

"Epitaph on a Tyrant" by W. H. Auden

"Epitaph on a Tyrant" by W. H. Auden
Perfection, of a kind, was what he was after,
And the poetry he invented was easy to understand;
He knew human folly like the back of his hand,
And was greatly interested in armies and fleets;
When he laughed, respectable senators burst with laughter,
And when he cried the little children died in the streets.

“Election Day, November, 1992”;Walt Whitman, “Election Day, November, 1884”


1992年的美國總統選舉日,我與阿擘回他的母校加州大學UC Davis ,住在附近的民宿。由於是假日,靜得"不可思議",天地悠悠,我在附近的草地走走.....
當年在杜邦公司"服務",當時已知公司要將我們整個事業部門"賣出" (也許4億美元),有點傷心:因為我將台灣的工廠和市場單位"轉型",不過,那只是戰爭中的一場地方戰役......所以決定休年假。.....

The United States presidential election of 1992 was the 52nd quadrennial presidential election. It was held on Tuesday, November 3, 1992. There were three major candidates: Incumbent Republican President George H. W. Bush; Democratic Arkansas Governor Bill Clinton, and independent Texas businessman Ross Perot.

United States presidential election, 1992 - Wikipedia

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/United_States_presidential_election,_1992


Walt Whitman, “Election Day, November, 1884”

November 4, 2014 | by 
1900_New_York_polling_place
A polling place in New York ca. 1900.
A reminder: Walt Whitman really, really liked Election Day. Nothing could quicken the man’s pulse like a good showing at the polls.
As “Election Day, November, 1884” has it, he preferred the spectacle of democracy—the “ballot-shower from East to West”—to any of our nation’s natural wonders, including, but not limited to, Niagara Falls, the Mississippi River, Yosemite, Yellowstone, the Great Lakes … you name it, Whitman thought the vote was better than it. (You’d think someone could’ve sold him on the Rockies, at least.) One can imagine a latter-day Whitman passing up a trip to the Grand Canyon and instead hunkering down at the TV, flipping anxiously from network to network as the precincts begin to report, wringing his hands. Not, mind you, that he would have any particular stake in the outcome; he’d just be along for the great democratic ride, clucking his tongue at the gerrymanderers of the world.
(If you need an antidote for all this unalloyed patriotism, try Charles Bernstein’s “On Election Day,” which contains, among many excellent lines, “The air is putrid, red, interpolating, quixotic, torpid, vulnerable, on election day.” I know which poet would get my vote.)
If I should need to name, O Western World, your powerfulest
         scene and show,
’Twould not be you, Niagara—nor you, ye limitless prairies—nor
         your huge rifts of canyons, Colorado,
Nor you, Yosemite—nor Yellowstone, with all its spasmic geyser-
         loops ascending to the skies, appearing and disappearing,
Nor Oregon’s white cones—nor Huron’s belt of mighty lakes—
         nor Mississippi’s stream:
—This seething hemisphere’s humanity, as now, I’d name— the 
still small voice vibrating—America’s choosing day,
(The heart of it not in the chosen—the act itself the main, the
         quadriennial choosing,)
The stretch of North and South arous’d—sea-board and inland
         —Texas to Maine—the Prairie States—Vermont, Virginia,
         California,
The final ballot-shower from East to West—the paradox and con-
         flict,
The countless snow-flakes falling—(a swordless conflict,
Yet more than all Rome’s wars of old, or modern Napoleon’s:)
         the peaceful choice of all,
Or good or ill humanity—welcoming the darker odds, the dross:
—Foams and ferments the wine? it serves to purify—while the
         heart pants, life glows:
These stormy gusts and winds waft precious ships,
Swell’d Washington’s, Jefferson’s, Lincoln’s sails.