聰兒肥
2008-10-09 00:09:34
poem from [四個婚禮和一個葬禮Four Weddings and a Funeral]
Funeral Blues
by W. H. Auden
Stop all the clocks,cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum,
Bring out the coffin,let the mourners come.
Let aeroplanes cricle moaning overhead,
Scribbling on the sky the message He Is Dead,
Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public
doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.
He was my North,my South,my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon,my midnight,mu talk,my song;
I thought that love vould last forever:I was wrong.
The atars are not wanted now;put out every one;
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;
Pour away the ovean and sweep up the wood;
For mothing now can ever vome to any good.
停掉時鐘
拔掉電話
給狗兒骨頭讓它停止吠叫
讓鋼琴靜默,將鼙鼓蒙起
抬出靈慪,讓悼念的人群彙集
讓飛機在上空盤旋悲鳴
在蒼穹潦草寫下:他已逝去
為白鴿頸間繫上黑紗
讓交通警察換上黑色手套
他是我的南北西東
他是我的工作日,我的星期天
我的正午,我的夜晚
我的話語,我的歡歌
我總以為愛能不朽,但我錯了
如今星辰已不再需要,
讓它們熄滅了吧
收起月亮,
搬走太陽,
掃光森林,
傾盡海洋,
因為世間從此不再美好