men, women and ghosts(男人、女人和鬼魂)-第31节
按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！
little white； dazzling wheels prick them like darts。 Placid and peaceful； the
rolls of bread spread themselves in the sun to bask。 A stack of butter…pats；
pyramidal； shout orange through the white； scream； flutter； call： 〃Yellow！
Yellow！ Yellow！〃 Coffee steam rises in a stream； clouds the silver tea…
service with mist； and twists up into the sunlight； revolved； involuted；
suspiring higher and higher； fluting in a thin spiral up the high blue sky。
101
… Page 102…
Men； Women and Ghosts
A crow flies by and croaks at the coffee steam。 The day is new and fair
with good smells in the air。
Walk
Over the street the white clouds meet； and sheer away without
touching。
On the sidewalks； boys are playing marbles。 Glass marbles； with
amber and blue hearts； roll together and part with a sweet clashing noise。
The boys strike them with black and red striped agates。 The glass marbles
spit crimson when they are hit； and slip into the gutters under rushing
brown water。 I smell tulips and narcissus in the air； but there are no
flowers anywhere； only white dust whipping up the street； and a girl with a
gay Spring hat and blowing skirts。 The dust and the wind flirt at her
ankles and her neat； high…heeled patent leather shoes。 Tap； tap； the little
heels pat the pavement； and the wind rustles among the flowers on her hat。
A water…cart crawls slowly on the other side of the way。 It is green
and gay with new paint； and rumbles contentedly； sprinkling clear water
over the white dust。 Clear zigzagging water； which smells of tulips and
narcissus。
The thickening branches make a pink ‘grisaille' against the blue sky。
Whoop！ The clouds go dashing at each other and sheer away just in
time。 Whoop！ And a man's hat careers down the street in front of the
white dust； leaps into the branches of a tree； veers away and trundles
ahead of the wind； jarring the sunlight into spokes of rose…colour and
green。
A motor…car cuts a swathe through the bright air； sharp…beaked；
irresistible； shouting to the wind to make way。 A glare of dust and
sunshine tosses together behind it； and settles down。 The sky is quiet and
high； and the morning is fair with fresh…washed air。
Midday and Afternoon
Swirl of crowded streets。 Shock and recoil of traffic。 The stock…still
brick facade of an old church； against which the waves of people lurch and
withdraw。 Flare of sunshine down side…streets。 Eddies of light in the
windows of chemists' shops； with their blue； gold； purple jars； darting
colours far into the crowd。 Loud bangs and tremors； murmurings out of
102
… Page 103…
Men； Women and Ghosts
high windows； whirring of machine belts； blurring of horses and motors。
A quick spin and shudder of brakes on an electric car； and the jar of a
church…bell knocking against the metal blue of the sky。 I am a piece of
the town； a bit of blown dust； thrust along with the crowd。 Proud to feel
the pavement under me； reeling with feet。 Feet tripping； skipping；
lagging； dragging； plodding doggedly； or springing up and advancing on
firm elastic insteps。 A boy is selling papers； I smell them clean and new
from the press。 They are fresh like the air； and pungent as tulips and
narcissus。
The blue sky pales to lemon； and great tongues of gold blind the shop…
windows； putting out their contents in a flood of flame。
Night and Sleep
The day takes her ease in slippered yellow。 Electric signs gleam out
along the shop fronts； following each other。 They grow； and grow； and
blow into patterns of fire…flowers as the sky fades。 Trades scream in
spots of light at the unruffled night。 Twinkle； jab； snap； that means a new
play； and over the way： plop； drop； quiver； is the sidelong sliver of a
watchmaker's sign with its length on another street。 A gigantic mug of beer
effervesces to the atmosphere over a tall building； but the sky is high and
has her own stars； why should she heed ours？
I leave the city with speed。 Wheels whirl to take me back to my trees
and my quietness。 The breeze which blows with me is fresh…washed and
clean； it has come but recently from the high sky。 There are no flowers in
bloom yet； but the earth of my garden smells of tulips and narcissus。
My room is tranquil and friendly。 Out of the window I can see the
distant city； a band of twinkling gems； little flower…heads with no stems。 I
cannot see the beer…glass； nor the letters of the restaurants and shops I
passed； now the signs blur and all together make the city； glowing on a
night of fine weather； like a garden stirring and blowing for the Spring。
The night is fresh…washed and fair and there is a whiff of flowers in the
air。
Wrap me close； sheets of lavender。 Pour your blue and purple dreams
into my ears。 The breeze whispers at the shutters and mutters queer tales
of old days； and cobbled streets； and youths leaping their horses down
103
… Page 104…
Men； Women and Ghosts
marble stairways。 Pale blue lavender； you are the colour of the sky when
it is fresh…washed and fair 。 。 。 I smell the stars 。 。 。 they are like tulips and
narcissus 。 。 。 I smell them in the air。
The Dinner…Party
Fish
〃So 。 。 。〃 they said； With their wine…glasses delicately poised； Mocking
at the thing they cannot understand。 〃So 。 。 。〃 they said again； Amused and
insolent。 The silver on the table glittered； And the red wine in the glasses
Seemed the blood I had wasted In a foolish cause。
Game
The gentleman with the grey…and…black whiskers Sneered languidly
over his quail。 Then my heart flew up and laboured； And I burst from my
own holding And hurled myself forward。 With straight blows I beat upon
him； Furiously； with red…hot anger； I thrust against him。 But my weapon
slithered over his polished surface； And I recoiled upon myself； Panting。
Drawing…Room
In a dress all softness and half…tones； Indolent and half…reclined； She
lay upon a couch； With the firelight reflected in her jewels。 But her eyes
had no reflection； They swam in a grey smoke； The smoke of smouldering
ashes； The smoke of her cindered heart。
Coffee
They sat in a circle with their coffee…cups。 One dropped in a lump of
sugar； One stirred with a spoon。 I saw them as a circle of ghosts Sipping
blackness out of beautiful china； And mildly protesting against my
coarseness In being alive。
Talk
They took dead men's souls And pinned them on their breasts for
ornament； Their cuff…links and tiaras Were gems dug from a grave； They
were ghouls battening on exhumed thoughts； And I took a green liqueur
from a servant So that he might come near me And give me the comfort of
a living thing。
Eleven O'Clock
104
… Page 105…
Men； Women and Ghosts
The front door was hard and heavy； It shut behind me on the house of
ghosts。 I flattened my feet on the pavement To feel it solid under me； I ran
my hand along the railings And shook them； And pressed their pointed
bars Into my palms。 The hurt of it reassured me； And I did it again and
again Until they were bruised。 When I woke in the night I laughed to find
them aching； For only living flesh can suffer。
Stravinsky's Three Pieces 〃Grotesques〃； for String
Quartet
