Archive for September, 2001

未响的铃声

Thursday, September 20th, 2001

“会响的,“

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Proudly, a New Yorker:

Tuesday, September 11th, 2001

Try to praise the mutilated world.
Remember June’s long days,
And wild strawberries, drops of wine, the dew.
The nettles that methodically overgrow
The abandoned homesteads of exiles.
You must praise the mutilated world.
You watched the stylish yachts and ships;
One of them had a long trip ahead of it,
While salty oblivion awaited others.
You’ve seen the refugees heading nowhere,
You’ve heard the executioners sing joyfully.
You should praise the mutilated world.
Remember the moments when we were together
In a white room and the curtain fluttered.
Return in thought of the concert where music flared.
You gathered acorns in the park in autumn
And leaves eddied over the earth’s scars.
Praise the mutilated world
And the gray feather a thrush lost,
And the gentle light that strays and vanishes
And returns.

Adam Zagajewski

(Translated, from the Polish, by Clare Cavanagh)

Wounded Clock

Friday, September 7th, 2001
Botanical Garden - Durban, South Africa

Botanical Garden - Durban, South Africa

南非-深圳

Wednesday, September 5th, 2001

Game Park
大象在悠然走

拨响手机
三岁的童音清晰

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