A poem
回声
在自然的神殿,活柱升浮,
时时喊出褪色的词,
人穿越这图腾,
那眼神似曾相识。
象回声徘徊,远远湮没,
在幽深阴暗的宇宙,
象黑夜一样广大,一样辉煌,
芬芳与色彩回漾。
芬芳,象婴体一样贞洁,
象欧巴一样甜美,象草场一样繁茂,
还有,骄傲的,腐朽的,富有的,辽阔的。
她无限扩展,
象琥珀,麝香,乳香,没药,
唱着吸魂摄魄的极乐
Echoes
In Nature’s temple, living columns rise,
Which oftentimes give tongue to words subdued,
And Man traverses this symbolic wood,
Which looks at him with half familiar eyes
Like lingering echoes, which afar confound
Themselves in deep and sombre unity,
As vast as Night, and like transplendency,
The scents and colours to each other respond.
And scents there are, like infant’s flesh as chaste,
As sweet as oboes, and as meadows fair,
And others, proud, corrupted, rich and vast,
Which have the expansion of infinity,
Like amber, musk and frankincense and myrrh,
That sing the soul’s and senses’ ecstasy.
__Charlies Baudelaire
translated by Cyril Scott



design a totem for my home page…








