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辞
廖亦武
我说你别接近这些诗歌,这些石头、太阳和水,这些
臆造的天堂,我说你要管住那双怯弱的手。
这儿的每一个字都是生长的皮肤,它们自动聚合,完
成了一个美人,一首旷世的绝唱,但它们在完成美人或绝
唱之前就已逐渐衰朽,成为很薄很薄的东西了。
如果你默诵了一行诗,就等于撕开了一片丝绸,就等于
损伤了一块皮肤,你将眼睁睁地看着那伤口一点点红肿、
化脓、扩散,最后将你的偶像活活烂掉。美丽的总是很薄的
,象纸、雪、羽毛、绸子、花瓣、唯丽、飞飞这样一些动听
的名词一样薄。你想占有什么,结果什么也占有不了。在溃
败的美后面,是空洞,无限寂寞的空洞,美的本身就是空洞
,眩目迷人的空洞。
我说你要管住那双怯弱的手!
the old poem
i say you do not approach these poems, these stones, suns and waters
these concocted paradises, i say you must control your timid hands.
every word here was the growing skin, they will gather spontaneously
and form a beauty, a great unrivalled poem, but once they complete their job
they become feeble and decaying gradually, turning to very very thin matters.
if you read a line of poem silently, that is equal to ripping the silk,
injuring the skin, you will look at the wound swelling, suppurating and propagating
and finally rotting your dreams helplessly. beautiful things are always very thin,
just like some vulnerable nouns such as paper, snowflake, feather, silk, petal, Waily and Phillia.
you want to clutch something, but you get nothing. what hide behind the decaying beauty is Vague,
with boundless lonelisome, the beauty itself is Vague, dazzling and attractive Vague.
i've said you must control your timid hands. |
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