那个时候我在家里很无聊，白天翻译书，晚上就出去绕着镇子走一圈。常邮路上有一家叫重庆烤鱼的烧烤店，晚上绕圈总往那里过，掏出几个硬币，接过四五串烤馒头、烤年糕什么，边走边吃。
每天绕圈都一样，街口路灯下的小贩、花坛边遛狗的人、跟我一样出来散步的人，一样的神情，一样的日复一日。
有一晚，我从常邮路的拐角出来，边走边托着盒子吃烧烤。那是个冬天，不是因为我印象中保留着对温度的记忆，而是因为我记得那天我穿着冬衣。马路旁的人行道上除了我，还有一个裹着黑色外衣的女人，朝我走过来。我在吃着烤馒头，她在打手机。突然，一声巨大的哭声从那个女人那里迸发出来。她握着手机，仰视天空，“哇——”地哭了起来。或者用哭嚎这个词更准确些。那两记爆炸一般的哭声让我的心顿时抽搐了几下。多大的委屈才会让一个女人在夜晚的马路上毫无遮拦地痛声大哭？我原本搅动的嘴巴有些尴尬，因为她距离我只有三四米远，她的哭声让我惶恐地觉得如果再继续嚼东西会很不礼貌。我拿着竹签的手也有些尴尬，嘴巴可以把食物含在里面，但举着馒头串的手无处逃匿。那夜色中的痛哭声就好像肃穆的葬礼，可我那举着食物的手就像有人不识趣地穿了一身扎眼的红色。我怔了几秒钟，又重新搅动起了嘴巴，并小心地把停留在口腔里的食糜咽了下去。离我半米远的时候，她把哭声变成了哽咽的啜泣。她看了我一眼，她的脸除了痛苦没有任何表情。她擦身而过，我想说“你没事吧。”但终究还是没有开口。
我听着她咯噔咯噔的皮鞋声渐渐远去，她的哭声渐渐远去。
来到Cardiff不久，有一天下午走在Senghennydd路上，快到students union的时候，听见一个沙哑的哭声。一个姑娘泪流满面地朝我走来，周围有很多人侧目相向，看着她边走边向手机的另一端哭诉。她嘴里一边噼里啪啦地说着意大利语，一边从喉咙里发出“呃-呃-”的哭声，这让她的哭听起来很热闹。我想起那个冬天空旷的夜晚，一个女人也在路上独自哭泣。可不知道为什么，这次的哭声少了一丝让我揪心的东西。
2010年4月27日星期二
dog and girl
The road is being re-built
in St. Mary Street.
workers are drilling on the ground
pedestrians can only wriggle through
the barriers on one narrow side.
A man walks past a barrier carefully
he is holding a belt connecting
him to a stumbling creature--
a three-legged dog.
It's not a steady triangle
its rear leg is trying
to catch up with the two front legs.
I was walking on the street
I didn't know where I was going
I stopped at every big tree
and wondered at their life
Two fat girls came towards me
they stopped and one of them said:
Do you know samilomall?
Excuse me?
Smilomall! She repeated.
She was wearing a hair band--
a yellow flower, not real
Pinkless. The other girl added.
Pinkless? Sorry, I don't think I understand you.
Fuck you, man. The yellow flower snarled.
Alright.
in St. Mary Street.
workers are drilling on the ground
pedestrians can only wriggle through
the barriers on one narrow side.
A man walks past a barrier carefully
he is holding a belt connecting
him to a stumbling creature--
a three-legged dog.
It's not a steady triangle
its rear leg is trying
to catch up with the two front legs.
I was walking on the street
I didn't know where I was going
I stopped at every big tree
and wondered at their life
Two fat girls came towards me
they stopped and one of them said:
Do you know samilomall?
Excuse me?
Smilomall! She repeated.
She was wearing a hair band--
a yellow flower, not real
Pinkless. The other girl added.
Pinkless? Sorry, I don't think I understand you.
Fuck you, man. The yellow flower snarled.
Alright.
2010年4月22日星期四
2010年4月20日星期二
海子的一首叙事诗，（空间幽闭、黑暗恐惧者慎入）
Narrative Poem
-- a folklore, by Haizi (translated by me)
a man came for a night lodging
the hostel was dull and lifeless as hell
it was built in a horrific shape
located far away from the city center
the only sound one could hear
was the church bell
and the river flowing through the city
with a crystal sound made by the water
the river was noisy and sometimes
quiet, too, you could hear a fishing boat
it was a poor fisherman's family
they lived on half-dead fish and shrimp, hard life
the man came to the hostel's door
and pulled the bell upon it
but the bell was out of work
no sound was made but silence
so he put down the loads from his back
and called three times in a loud voice
out came the hostel keeper from inside
he was dressed in black like a ghost
the ghost held a candle in his hand
and utterred something indistinctly
he said, Do you, my guest, want accommodation?
But my hostel hasn't lodged people for a long time.
the man asked, Why
have people not lived here for so long?
the keeper said, Maybe here is too far
and it's not a safe place anyway.
Doesn't matter, the hot-blooded man said.
his voice was dynamic, a young man's voice
he said, My host, boil water and make dinner for me
Tonight I want to rest early and well
the hostel keeper blinked his eyes
he ushered the guest into the hall
the house was dark and shabby
the river's roaring could be heard within
from the river came a draught
the candle fire in the keeper's hand died out
he came inside leaving
the guest behind in darkness
so dark that none of the man's fingers was visible
he waited and waited
but didn't see the hostel keeper come back
he shouted at a high pitch, My host! My host!
nobody answered back
he groped into the inner house
walking unsteadily into
a room that was messy and dark as a cave
he heard a sound inside
he touched a lamp on the windowsill
he raised it and shook it, no oil in the lamp
he put it back
he pushed open the windows
the smell of the river rushed into his face
he stood still for a while
his mind was crarried away
his was nervous and jittery
by the weak light reflected
from the shimmering dots given off by the fishing boat
he came to understand the room he was in
the room had nothing
but a bed
What the hell were the sounds when I staggered in
the sounds from things that had been walked on and broken?
Were they phantoms or hallucinations?
he felt his nerves were falling apart
his heart, which had been calmed down, now was like a tense drum
hit hardly and fiercely by a drummer
he sat down onto the bed
horror stories swarmed into his head
he threw himself into the damp quilt
without taking off his clothes
a heavy sound, his luggage
fell onto the floor
the sound was extremely loud
against the night's tranquility
he couldn't fall asleep no matter what
the river turned quiet at midnight
no sound could be heard
he became even more awake
he tossed and turned
all the illusions and sounds
filled him with fear
then, came a sharp voice, a child's voice
in late night, the child's voice
was like a bird's sad crow
coming from a lonely grave
he heard clearly what the child was crying:
"Uncle, uncle, let me in."
"Uncle, uncle, let me in."
"Open the door, uncle."
"Open the door, open the door."
someone was thumping at the door
the guest quickly got up
left his bed and opened the door
not a single soul was outside
he lied back down onto his bed
but no way could he ever sleep
the child's voice was heard again
"Uncle, uncle, let me in."
the cry was sad and bitter, sad and bitter
the man, a total stranger to this place,
was covered in sweat
he tucked his head into the quilt
but the cry grew louder
it pierced into his ears like a knife
as if the child
had been crying inside of his ears
he pulled open the door with a force
but nobody was there
he doubted his ears
he closed the door
came the cry again
the same cry as before
he rose up, body shaky
he sized up the room
he saw the shimmering dots turn dim on the river
the light in the room grew weaker
but he could recognize the room's shape
he saw only one bed in the room
his heart lurched
Could there be anything under the bed?
he extended his hands into the bed's underneath
but nothing was there
the child cried again
more sharply, he pulled
back his hands, and felt
someone was there
his blood stopped flowing
heart almost paused
he groped about
and found a man bound up to the bottom of the bed
fear had him lose his voice
he withdrew his shaking hands
and took out a knife, cut
the ropes off the man
he dragged the man out
and put him in the centre of the room
he found a candle in his pocket
and a match stick
he lit the candle which was only 1 inch long
by the candle light he saw it was the hostel keeper
he was dead, it seemed
he had been dead for a couple of days
now the dead body was lying in his room
this exact dead body
had taken him into the hostel
and had been tied under his bed
cold sweat sprang out of the stranger's forehead
his body was watery
he was going to faint
the candle fire was dying out
叙事诗
——个民间故事
海子
有一个人深夜来投宿
这个旅店死气沉沉
形状十分吓人
远离了闹市中心
这里是唯一的声音
是教堂的钟声
还有流经城市的河流
河流流水汩汩
河水的声音时而喧哗
时而寂静，听得见水上人家的声音
那是一个穷苦的渔民家庭
每日捕些半死的鱼虾，艰难度日
这人来到旅店门前
拉了一下旅店的门铃
但门铃是坏的
没有发出声音，一片寂静
这时他放下了背上的东西
高声叫喊了三声
店里走出店主人
一身黑衣服活像一个幽灵
这幽灵手持烛火
话也说不太清
他说：“客人，你要住宿
我这里可好久没有住人”
客人说：“为什么
这里好久没有住人”
主人说：“也许是太偏僻
况且这里还不太平”
“没关系”，那人血气方刚
嗓门宏亮，一听就是个年轻人
说：“主人，快烧水做饭
今夜我要早早安顿”
店主人眨着双眼
把客人引入门厅
房子又黑又破
听得见大河的涛声
河面上吹来的风
吹熄了主人手上的蜡烛
他走进里面
把客人留在黑暗中
伸手不见五指
客人等了又等
还是不见主人
他高声叫喊：“主人！主人！”
没人答应
他摸黑走向里屋
一路跌跌撞撞
这屋里乱七八糟，黑咕隆咚
屋子里发出声音
他在窗台上摸到一盏灯
举起来晃了晃，灯里没有油
他又将灯放回原处
他推开窗户
河水的气味迎面而来
他稍微停顿一下
站在那里发愣
他还是心神不宁
借河面上渔船的灯光点点
微光反入这黑屋子
看清了这个房间的大致
屋子里只有一张床
什么也没有
那么他刚刚跌跌撞撞
弄碎和弄响的究竟是些什么东西
是不是鬼怪和幻影？
他的心开始有些发毛
刚刚平息下来的心跳
又似一面绷紧的鼓手狠狠锤击的鼓
他在床上坐下
恐怖的故事涌入头脑
他连衣服都没脱
就钻进了那潮湿的被窝
行李扑通一声
跌在地上
在寂静中
这声音显得格外的响
他怎么也睡不着
到半夜，河水声小了
没有一点声音
他更加睡不着觉
翻来覆去，全都是
使他内心恐惧
的幻影和声响
这时一个尖利的儿童声响起
在深夜，这儿童的声音
多像是孤独的墓穴中
一片凄惨的鸟鸣
他听清了，这儿童在喊
“舅舅，舅舅，放我进来”
“舅舅，舅舅，放我进来”
“开门，舅舅”
“开门，开门”
同时有声音捶打着这个房门
这客人连忙起身
下床开门
门外没有一个人影
他又重新躺下
更加不能入眠
这时童声重新响起：
“舅舅，舅舅，开门”
一声比一声凄厉
这个陌生人
一身冷汗
把头也钻到被窝里
但是声音更响
仿佛刀刺在他耳朵上
仿佛这儿童
就在他耳朵里尖叫
他猛地拉开门
但是没有人
他怀疑自己的耳朵
只好把门关上
叫声又响起
还是和刚才一样
他起来，抖嗦着
再重新打量房间
他看见河面上的灯火少了
那微光更弱
但能辨清轮廓
他看清这屋里只有一张床
他的心抽紧了一下
会不会床底下有什么
他伸手向床下摸去
并没有什么
可这时声音又响起
更加激烈，他把手
向回抽时，感到
床底下有人
他的血液凝固
心脏几乎停止了跳动
于是他摸向那儿
原来那床板底下绑着一个人
他吓得没有声音
把手抖嗦着收回
摸出刀子，割断了
那捆绑的绳索
他把那人拖出来
放到房间中央
发现那人口袋里有一只蜡烛
还有一根火柴
他点亮这短短一寸的蜡烛
火烛下看清那人是店主人
已经死了，看样子
已经死了好几天
这死尸躺在他的房间里
这死了好几天的死尸
刚才还引他进门
又被绑在他的身下
这个陌生人额头冒出冷汗
全身都被浸湿
他马上就要昏过去
这时蜡烛也已熄灭
-- a folklore, by Haizi (translated by me)
a man came for a night lodging
the hostel was dull and lifeless as hell
it was built in a horrific shape
located far away from the city center
the only sound one could hear
was the church bell
and the river flowing through the city
with a crystal sound made by the water
the river was noisy and sometimes
quiet, too, you could hear a fishing boat
it was a poor fisherman's family
they lived on half-dead fish and shrimp, hard life
the man came to the hostel's door
and pulled the bell upon it
but the bell was out of work
no sound was made but silence
so he put down the loads from his back
and called three times in a loud voice
out came the hostel keeper from inside
he was dressed in black like a ghost
the ghost held a candle in his hand
and utterred something indistinctly
he said, Do you, my guest, want accommodation?
But my hostel hasn't lodged people for a long time.
the man asked, Why
have people not lived here for so long?
the keeper said, Maybe here is too far
and it's not a safe place anyway.
Doesn't matter, the hot-blooded man said.
his voice was dynamic, a young man's voice
he said, My host, boil water and make dinner for me
Tonight I want to rest early and well
the hostel keeper blinked his eyes
he ushered the guest into the hall
the house was dark and shabby
the river's roaring could be heard within
from the river came a draught
the candle fire in the keeper's hand died out
he came inside leaving
the guest behind in darkness
so dark that none of the man's fingers was visible
he waited and waited
but didn't see the hostel keeper come back
he shouted at a high pitch, My host! My host!
nobody answered back
he groped into the inner house
walking unsteadily into
a room that was messy and dark as a cave
he heard a sound inside
he touched a lamp on the windowsill
he raised it and shook it, no oil in the lamp
he put it back
he pushed open the windows
the smell of the river rushed into his face
he stood still for a while
his mind was crarried away
his was nervous and jittery
by the weak light reflected
from the shimmering dots given off by the fishing boat
he came to understand the room he was in
the room had nothing
but a bed
What the hell were the sounds when I staggered in
the sounds from things that had been walked on and broken?
Were they phantoms or hallucinations?
he felt his nerves were falling apart
his heart, which had been calmed down, now was like a tense drum
hit hardly and fiercely by a drummer
he sat down onto the bed
horror stories swarmed into his head
he threw himself into the damp quilt
without taking off his clothes
a heavy sound, his luggage
fell onto the floor
the sound was extremely loud
against the night's tranquility
he couldn't fall asleep no matter what
the river turned quiet at midnight
no sound could be heard
he became even more awake
he tossed and turned
all the illusions and sounds
filled him with fear
then, came a sharp voice, a child's voice
in late night, the child's voice
was like a bird's sad crow
coming from a lonely grave
he heard clearly what the child was crying:
"Uncle, uncle, let me in."
"Uncle, uncle, let me in."
"Open the door, uncle."
"Open the door, open the door."
someone was thumping at the door
the guest quickly got up
left his bed and opened the door
not a single soul was outside
he lied back down onto his bed
but no way could he ever sleep
the child's voice was heard again
"Uncle, uncle, let me in."
the cry was sad and bitter, sad and bitter
the man, a total stranger to this place,
was covered in sweat
he tucked his head into the quilt
but the cry grew louder
it pierced into his ears like a knife
as if the child
had been crying inside of his ears
he pulled open the door with a force
but nobody was there
he doubted his ears
he closed the door
came the cry again
the same cry as before
he rose up, body shaky
he sized up the room
he saw the shimmering dots turn dim on the river
the light in the room grew weaker
but he could recognize the room's shape
he saw only one bed in the room
his heart lurched
Could there be anything under the bed?
he extended his hands into the bed's underneath
but nothing was there
the child cried again
more sharply, he pulled
back his hands, and felt
someone was there
his blood stopped flowing
heart almost paused
he groped about
and found a man bound up to the bottom of the bed
fear had him lose his voice
he withdrew his shaking hands
and took out a knife, cut
the ropes off the man
he dragged the man out
and put him in the centre of the room
he found a candle in his pocket
and a match stick
he lit the candle which was only 1 inch long
by the candle light he saw it was the hostel keeper
he was dead, it seemed
he had been dead for a couple of days
now the dead body was lying in his room
this exact dead body
had taken him into the hostel
and had been tied under his bed
cold sweat sprang out of the stranger's forehead
his body was watery
he was going to faint
the candle fire was dying out
叙事诗
——个民间故事
海子
有一个人深夜来投宿
这个旅店死气沉沉
形状十分吓人
远离了闹市中心
这里是唯一的声音
是教堂的钟声
还有流经城市的河流
河流流水汩汩
河水的声音时而喧哗
时而寂静，听得见水上人家的声音
那是一个穷苦的渔民家庭
每日捕些半死的鱼虾，艰难度日
这人来到旅店门前
拉了一下旅店的门铃
但门铃是坏的
没有发出声音，一片寂静
这时他放下了背上的东西
高声叫喊了三声
店里走出店主人
一身黑衣服活像一个幽灵
这幽灵手持烛火
话也说不太清
他说：“客人，你要住宿
我这里可好久没有住人”
客人说：“为什么
这里好久没有住人”
主人说：“也许是太偏僻
况且这里还不太平”
“没关系”，那人血气方刚
嗓门宏亮，一听就是个年轻人
说：“主人，快烧水做饭
今夜我要早早安顿”
店主人眨着双眼
把客人引入门厅
房子又黑又破
听得见大河的涛声
河面上吹来的风
吹熄了主人手上的蜡烛
他走进里面
把客人留在黑暗中
伸手不见五指
客人等了又等
还是不见主人
他高声叫喊：“主人！主人！”
没人答应
他摸黑走向里屋
一路跌跌撞撞
这屋里乱七八糟，黑咕隆咚
屋子里发出声音
他在窗台上摸到一盏灯
举起来晃了晃，灯里没有油
他又将灯放回原处
他推开窗户
河水的气味迎面而来
他稍微停顿一下
站在那里发愣
他还是心神不宁
借河面上渔船的灯光点点
微光反入这黑屋子
看清了这个房间的大致
屋子里只有一张床
什么也没有
那么他刚刚跌跌撞撞
弄碎和弄响的究竟是些什么东西
是不是鬼怪和幻影？
他的心开始有些发毛
刚刚平息下来的心跳
又似一面绷紧的鼓手狠狠锤击的鼓
他在床上坐下
恐怖的故事涌入头脑
他连衣服都没脱
就钻进了那潮湿的被窝
行李扑通一声
跌在地上
在寂静中
这声音显得格外的响
他怎么也睡不着
到半夜，河水声小了
没有一点声音
他更加睡不着觉
翻来覆去，全都是
使他内心恐惧
的幻影和声响
这时一个尖利的儿童声响起
在深夜，这儿童的声音
多像是孤独的墓穴中
一片凄惨的鸟鸣
他听清了，这儿童在喊
“舅舅，舅舅，放我进来”
“舅舅，舅舅，放我进来”
“开门，舅舅”
“开门，开门”
同时有声音捶打着这个房门
这客人连忙起身
下床开门
门外没有一个人影
他又重新躺下
更加不能入眠
这时童声重新响起：
“舅舅，舅舅，开门”
一声比一声凄厉
这个陌生人
一身冷汗
把头也钻到被窝里
但是声音更响
仿佛刀刺在他耳朵上
仿佛这儿童
就在他耳朵里尖叫
他猛地拉开门
但是没有人
他怀疑自己的耳朵
只好把门关上
叫声又响起
还是和刚才一样
他起来，抖嗦着
再重新打量房间
他看见河面上的灯火少了
那微光更弱
但能辨清轮廓
他看清这屋里只有一张床
他的心抽紧了一下
会不会床底下有什么
他伸手向床下摸去
并没有什么
可这时声音又响起
更加激烈，他把手
向回抽时，感到
床底下有人
他的血液凝固
心脏几乎停止了跳动
于是他摸向那儿
原来那床板底下绑着一个人
他吓得没有声音
把手抖嗦着收回
摸出刀子，割断了
那捆绑的绳索
他把那人拖出来
放到房间中央
发现那人口袋里有一只蜡烛
还有一根火柴
他点亮这短短一寸的蜡烛
火烛下看清那人是店主人
已经死了，看样子
已经死了好几天
这死尸躺在他的房间里
这死了好几天的死尸
刚才还引他进门
又被绑在他的身下
这个陌生人额头冒出冷汗
全身都被浸湿
他马上就要昏过去
这时蜡烛也已熄灭
听来的插曲
Rike是个细腰大胸、一头金发的德国姑娘，说起英语来像是越野车走山路，一蹦一蹦的，钢性实足。其实这个故事与她的细腰大胸和一头金发没有关系（或许有关系？），和她说话像钢蹦跳舞也没关系（或许也有关系），但这个故事和Rike来自德国有关。
事情是这样的，他们在talybont的宿舍里开派对，派对八分熟的时候——也就是很能喝的微醉、不能喝的烂醉、从不喝的不醒不醉的时候，里面有个希腊小哥（留学生里有很多希腊人，特别是留学生开的派对里，勤劳智慧、喜欢日光浴轧沙滩的希腊朋友是永远不会缺席的），晃悠着走到Rike身前，直挺挺地站住，伸出前臂，呈45度举起，平展手掌，说了句“hai, Rike!”
接下来发生的事情出乎在场所有人的意外——Rike扇了那个希腊小哥一个耳光，手掌与面颊撞击时发出的巨响让整个派对的酒精都瞬间蒸发了。接着，Rike大哭起来，哭得浑身颤抖，我想她的大胸和一头的长发也肯定抖得厉害。
故事就到此结束了。我不知道事后那个希腊小哥是如何向Rike交代的，或者Rike是如何向希腊小哥交代，因为是听来的故事，只知道这段高潮。一个纳粹军礼，一个耳光，一些人说Rike过激了，一些人说是希腊小哥自找的。
可我想，事后评说总是容易的，把这件事结合不同的因素考量，也会得出不同的结论，但对于当事人，下回派对上换做一个意大利小哥向Rike行纳粹礼，巴掌还会扇下去吗？要知道细腰大胸、说话像钢蹦跳舞的Rike可是个热血、敏感的德国姑娘。或者换做另外一个德国姑娘，喝高了的希腊小哥还会去行纳粹礼吗？要知道喝高了的希腊小哥可不再是个智慧的小哥。
*Fawlty Towers有一集讲的是Basil模仿希特勒，踢纳粹正步讨德国客人开心，德国客人义正言辞地说"it's not funny. not funny for any German."当然那集里Basil脑袋受了创伤，是顶着一头绷带和药棉走正步的。可见，只有脑子不好的人（包括醉酒者，这两者有区别吗？）才会拿历史伤疤来搞笑。
事情是这样的，他们在talybont的宿舍里开派对，派对八分熟的时候——也就是很能喝的微醉、不能喝的烂醉、从不喝的不醒不醉的时候，里面有个希腊小哥（留学生里有很多希腊人，特别是留学生开的派对里，勤劳智慧、喜欢日光浴轧沙滩的希腊朋友是永远不会缺席的），晃悠着走到Rike身前，直挺挺地站住，伸出前臂，呈45度举起，平展手掌，说了句“hai, Rike!”
接下来发生的事情出乎在场所有人的意外——Rike扇了那个希腊小哥一个耳光，手掌与面颊撞击时发出的巨响让整个派对的酒精都瞬间蒸发了。接着，Rike大哭起来，哭得浑身颤抖，我想她的大胸和一头的长发也肯定抖得厉害。
故事就到此结束了。我不知道事后那个希腊小哥是如何向Rike交代的，或者Rike是如何向希腊小哥交代，因为是听来的故事，只知道这段高潮。一个纳粹军礼，一个耳光，一些人说Rike过激了，一些人说是希腊小哥自找的。
可我想，事后评说总是容易的，把这件事结合不同的因素考量，也会得出不同的结论，但对于当事人，下回派对上换做一个意大利小哥向Rike行纳粹礼，巴掌还会扇下去吗？要知道细腰大胸、说话像钢蹦跳舞的Rike可是个热血、敏感的德国姑娘。或者换做另外一个德国姑娘，喝高了的希腊小哥还会去行纳粹礼吗？要知道喝高了的希腊小哥可不再是个智慧的小哥。
*Fawlty Towers有一集讲的是Basil模仿希特勒，踢纳粹正步讨德国客人开心，德国客人义正言辞地说"it's not funny. not funny for any German."当然那集里Basil脑袋受了创伤，是顶着一头绷带和药棉走正步的。可见，只有脑子不好的人（包括醉酒者，这两者有区别吗？）才会拿历史伤疤来搞笑。
2010年4月17日星期六
不信命的同志不是好同志（半个虚构故事）
“秋涛路有家日本料理店不错。走，请你到那儿吃。”
“以前吃过？”
“嗯，去年和我女朋友去过一回。不过老板是个台湾人。”
“台湾人开日本料理店？”
“我也不知道这里面有什么说道，但我女朋友说那店的锄烧很正宗。”
亮亮考上研了，按照约定他做东。
进了店，柜台上一中年男子跟我们打招呼，一张嘴，台湾人的身份暴露无遗。
我们上了二楼，在榻榻米上坐下，亮亮盘着腿，我叉着腿。
“要不要来点清酒？很好喝，不重。我和我女朋友每次吃料理都要每人一瓶。”
“好，我稍微来点。”
酒确实不重，但毕竟是酒，我天生对酒精敏感无比，才一小盅，就感觉血流直涌脑门。
“看来你确实不行啊。”亮亮猛呷了一口，龇牙咧嘴的，大呼舒服。
我赶紧往嘴里夹了几块土豆，冲冲味。旁边一对男女坐了下来，说着日语。我看着那女的，不禁红着眼朝亮亮问道：“你上次说你跟你女朋友是怎么认识的？好像还有樱花来着？”
“呵呵。”亮亮笑完往嘴里扔了几口菜，呷了口酒，说，“那天我本是去滨江做家教，但公交乘到一半，那头来电话说小孩子吵闹时把脚摔伤了，所以就不用去了。我想，都出来了，天气又那么好，就自个儿玩儿吧。所以到动物园那站，就下了。里面转了一圈，又觉得太热。于是出来回到等公交的亭子下面，突然想起来出来时为了赶时间，食堂里打包的饭还放在书包里。刚把饭拿出来，一个姑娘走到我面前，挺害羞地问我，‘请问，你知道这里有去玉泉的车吗？’我说，‘有啊，乘那个几路就行。’接着我又问，‘听你说话，是留学生吧？’她笑了笑说，‘是啊，我是在玉泉学中文的日本留学生。’”
“就这么认识了？”
“是啊，就这么认识了。不过当时等车有好些人，而且我坐在人堆里，埋着个头在书包里找盒饭呢，隔着她也挺远，可她偏偏就跑过来问我。你说这是什么？”
“缘分？”
“我后来也问她，当时怎么就找我来问路了。她也说不清，就说当时看见我坐在那挺无聊的样子。”
“然后呢？”
“然后我就跟她聊了一会儿，她说她也还没吃饭。我说要不我和你把这饭分了吧。”
“一双筷两个人怎么……”
亮亮摇摇筷子，打断了我，说：“那天巧就巧在我从食堂里出来时顺手多拿了双筷子。平时从不多拿筷子，就那天。”
“还是缘分。”
“然后我和她把饭分着吃了。我把荷包蛋夹了俩，一人一半，蛋黄还流着油呢。吃完饭，我说，要不我和你一同回玉泉吧，反正天也挺热的，我也想回去了。她道了谢，说好的。”
“就这么回玉泉了？”
“没有。因为我们等的那班车迟迟没来。本来是十分钟一班，我在那乘过好多回，知道。可那天不知为什么，我们等了快半小时，还不见车来。我跟她说，再等五分钟，要是车再不来，我们就先去别处溜溜。等了三分钟，车来了。车是辆空车。上车时，我一回身，发现候车亭里一个人也没有，就我和她上了那路车。”
“这么说，车上就你们俩？”
“是啊。”
“这场景……”我看着旁边的那个日本姑娘，想象着一辆空车载着亮亮和一个姑娘在林荫道上缓缓驶过。
“车子在树荫下缓缓开着，那天的阳光特别好，透过窗户斑斑驳驳地在车上掉了一地。车子里就我们俩，好长的路，路上也就我们这一辆车。路两旁的樱花落下来擦着车窗飘过，她坐在我旁边很兴奋，一直说着sakura。”
我透着锅中往上窜的热气，看着亮亮闪着光的双眼，注视了良久。锅子里的烫咕嘟咕嘟冒着泡。亮亮拿筷子在里面搅了搅。
“那你女朋友回国后，还联系吧？”
“联系啊，今天上午我还给了她电话，祝她生日快乐呢。和她在一起的一年真让人怀念，每次车开过动物园那一站，我都会想起她，想起那一天。那天阳光真好，照得满车厢都是。”
亮亮呷着酒，继续跟我讲他和她女朋友的故事。锅底的火熄了，店里的客人走得只剩了我和亮亮。服务员走过来轻声说，我们要打烊了。
亮亮红着眼，撑起身。我俩下楼时，店里响起了歌声。
由于没其他顾客，除了两个服务员在安放桌椅，店里面安静得只有歌声在我们四周旋转。歌刚开始，就听见一个女孩用日语说了一句wa da shi, yima, tokyo des，亮亮走在我前面，突然双手按住扶梯，不动了。我也停了下来，两人一前一后站在楼梯上。
歌里先是一男一女在电话里通话，女的说“过一段时间我会到台湾去，你要等我哦。”吉它响起，越来越强，像增大的雨点敲打在瓦片上，清脆地响透了整个馆子，然后男的唱道：有一个女孩飘洋过海，只为一个她不了解的梦……亮亮半低着头，一动不动，直到歌声渐渐弱下去。雨滴落毕，一阵汽车的喇叭声从店门口划过。
“我们走吧。”
亮亮走到柜台前，一边掏出皮夹，一边说：“刚才放的歌真好听，是谁唱的？应该是台湾那边的吧？”
老板接过钱，笑了笑，说，“是的，我从台湾带过来的碟。呶，就是这张。”老板从底下拿出一张CD，“每天打烊的时候都会放。这歌让我想起我妻子。”
“真不会像歌里那样，你妻子从日本飘洋过海来到台湾，你正好等着她吧？”我笑着随便套了句话。
“呵呵。是啊。真像歌里面那样。”老板盯着CD，一下子陷入了沉默。突然，他伸出手，轻轻地抚摸了几下CD的封面，说，“在台湾，我和我妻子开了一家料理店。她手艺很好，做的锄烧在我们那一片是最出名的。我跟着她多少也学会了一点。那年她回老家神户看父母，我因为要经营我们的料理店，就没有一起去。那天她打电话，说买好了第二天的机票。谁知道那天晚上就发生了地震，再也没回来。”老板抬起头，望着我和亮亮，嘴角轻轻动了一下，说不上是哭笑还是回忆勾起的甜蜜。
我跟亮亮站在柜台前，像两个木头人。
“呵呵，你们看，我怎么跟你讲起我妻子的事来了。一般很少人问起这首歌，吃饭的客人也不在意歌里唱的什么。”
“老板，”亮亮吞了口唾沫，“你看你能不能把这张CD卖给我？”
老板又伸出手摸了摸CD的封面，好几秒都不言一语。
“不好意思，”亮亮有些尴尬地说，“我喝的有点多，有些失态。下回我们再来。”亮亮转过身，推开门，走了出去。
“老板，你不知道，我这朋友也有一个日本的女朋友，但她现在回国了……”老板抬起头，望着我，听我讲完了亮亮的故事。
我跟老板告了别，手里拿着那张CD，走出了屋子。
亮亮坐在外面的水泥石阶上，双手捂着脸。
我上去拍了拍他肩膀。“给，”我把CD伸到他面前，“给你要来了。”
亮亮抬起头，双眼通红，一脸的惊讶。
“老板听了你和你女朋友的故事，说送给你了。好好保存，这是他妻子结婚前送给他的生日礼物。”
写于2008年5月6日，原载于98。
原音社：漂流之爱
*2008年5月12日，发帖一周之后，四川汶川地震。
*2010年4月14日，青海玉树发生7.1级地震。
“以前吃过？”
“嗯，去年和我女朋友去过一回。不过老板是个台湾人。”
“台湾人开日本料理店？”
“我也不知道这里面有什么说道，但我女朋友说那店的锄烧很正宗。”
亮亮考上研了，按照约定他做东。
进了店，柜台上一中年男子跟我们打招呼，一张嘴，台湾人的身份暴露无遗。
我们上了二楼，在榻榻米上坐下，亮亮盘着腿，我叉着腿。
“要不要来点清酒？很好喝，不重。我和我女朋友每次吃料理都要每人一瓶。”
“好，我稍微来点。”
酒确实不重，但毕竟是酒，我天生对酒精敏感无比，才一小盅，就感觉血流直涌脑门。
“看来你确实不行啊。”亮亮猛呷了一口，龇牙咧嘴的，大呼舒服。
我赶紧往嘴里夹了几块土豆，冲冲味。旁边一对男女坐了下来，说着日语。我看着那女的，不禁红着眼朝亮亮问道：“你上次说你跟你女朋友是怎么认识的？好像还有樱花来着？”
“呵呵。”亮亮笑完往嘴里扔了几口菜，呷了口酒，说，“那天我本是去滨江做家教，但公交乘到一半，那头来电话说小孩子吵闹时把脚摔伤了，所以就不用去了。我想，都出来了，天气又那么好，就自个儿玩儿吧。所以到动物园那站，就下了。里面转了一圈，又觉得太热。于是出来回到等公交的亭子下面，突然想起来出来时为了赶时间，食堂里打包的饭还放在书包里。刚把饭拿出来，一个姑娘走到我面前，挺害羞地问我，‘请问，你知道这里有去玉泉的车吗？’我说，‘有啊，乘那个几路就行。’接着我又问，‘听你说话，是留学生吧？’她笑了笑说，‘是啊，我是在玉泉学中文的日本留学生。’”
“就这么认识了？”
“是啊，就这么认识了。不过当时等车有好些人，而且我坐在人堆里，埋着个头在书包里找盒饭呢，隔着她也挺远，可她偏偏就跑过来问我。你说这是什么？”
“缘分？”
“我后来也问她，当时怎么就找我来问路了。她也说不清，就说当时看见我坐在那挺无聊的样子。”
“然后呢？”
“然后我就跟她聊了一会儿，她说她也还没吃饭。我说要不我和你把这饭分了吧。”
“一双筷两个人怎么……”
亮亮摇摇筷子，打断了我，说：“那天巧就巧在我从食堂里出来时顺手多拿了双筷子。平时从不多拿筷子，就那天。”
“还是缘分。”
“然后我和她把饭分着吃了。我把荷包蛋夹了俩，一人一半，蛋黄还流着油呢。吃完饭，我说，要不我和你一同回玉泉吧，反正天也挺热的，我也想回去了。她道了谢，说好的。”
“就这么回玉泉了？”
“没有。因为我们等的那班车迟迟没来。本来是十分钟一班，我在那乘过好多回，知道。可那天不知为什么，我们等了快半小时，还不见车来。我跟她说，再等五分钟，要是车再不来，我们就先去别处溜溜。等了三分钟，车来了。车是辆空车。上车时，我一回身，发现候车亭里一个人也没有，就我和她上了那路车。”
“这么说，车上就你们俩？”
“是啊。”
“这场景……”我看着旁边的那个日本姑娘，想象着一辆空车载着亮亮和一个姑娘在林荫道上缓缓驶过。
“车子在树荫下缓缓开着，那天的阳光特别好，透过窗户斑斑驳驳地在车上掉了一地。车子里就我们俩，好长的路，路上也就我们这一辆车。路两旁的樱花落下来擦着车窗飘过，她坐在我旁边很兴奋，一直说着sakura。”
我透着锅中往上窜的热气，看着亮亮闪着光的双眼，注视了良久。锅子里的烫咕嘟咕嘟冒着泡。亮亮拿筷子在里面搅了搅。
“那你女朋友回国后，还联系吧？”
“联系啊，今天上午我还给了她电话，祝她生日快乐呢。和她在一起的一年真让人怀念，每次车开过动物园那一站，我都会想起她，想起那一天。那天阳光真好，照得满车厢都是。”
亮亮呷着酒，继续跟我讲他和她女朋友的故事。锅底的火熄了，店里的客人走得只剩了我和亮亮。服务员走过来轻声说，我们要打烊了。
亮亮红着眼，撑起身。我俩下楼时，店里响起了歌声。
由于没其他顾客，除了两个服务员在安放桌椅，店里面安静得只有歌声在我们四周旋转。歌刚开始，就听见一个女孩用日语说了一句wa da shi, yima, tokyo des，亮亮走在我前面，突然双手按住扶梯，不动了。我也停了下来，两人一前一后站在楼梯上。
歌里先是一男一女在电话里通话，女的说“过一段时间我会到台湾去，你要等我哦。”吉它响起，越来越强，像增大的雨点敲打在瓦片上，清脆地响透了整个馆子，然后男的唱道：有一个女孩飘洋过海，只为一个她不了解的梦……亮亮半低着头，一动不动，直到歌声渐渐弱下去。雨滴落毕，一阵汽车的喇叭声从店门口划过。
“我们走吧。”
亮亮走到柜台前，一边掏出皮夹，一边说：“刚才放的歌真好听，是谁唱的？应该是台湾那边的吧？”
老板接过钱，笑了笑，说，“是的，我从台湾带过来的碟。呶，就是这张。”老板从底下拿出一张CD，“每天打烊的时候都会放。这歌让我想起我妻子。”
“真不会像歌里那样，你妻子从日本飘洋过海来到台湾，你正好等着她吧？”我笑着随便套了句话。
“呵呵。是啊。真像歌里面那样。”老板盯着CD，一下子陷入了沉默。突然，他伸出手，轻轻地抚摸了几下CD的封面，说，“在台湾，我和我妻子开了一家料理店。她手艺很好，做的锄烧在我们那一片是最出名的。我跟着她多少也学会了一点。那年她回老家神户看父母，我因为要经营我们的料理店，就没有一起去。那天她打电话，说买好了第二天的机票。谁知道那天晚上就发生了地震，再也没回来。”老板抬起头，望着我和亮亮，嘴角轻轻动了一下，说不上是哭笑还是回忆勾起的甜蜜。
我跟亮亮站在柜台前，像两个木头人。
“呵呵，你们看，我怎么跟你讲起我妻子的事来了。一般很少人问起这首歌，吃饭的客人也不在意歌里唱的什么。”
“老板，”亮亮吞了口唾沫，“你看你能不能把这张CD卖给我？”
老板又伸出手摸了摸CD的封面，好几秒都不言一语。
“不好意思，”亮亮有些尴尬地说，“我喝的有点多，有些失态。下回我们再来。”亮亮转过身，推开门，走了出去。
“老板，你不知道，我这朋友也有一个日本的女朋友，但她现在回国了……”老板抬起头，望着我，听我讲完了亮亮的故事。
我跟老板告了别，手里拿着那张CD，走出了屋子。
亮亮坐在外面的水泥石阶上，双手捂着脸。
我上去拍了拍他肩膀。“给，”我把CD伸到他面前，“给你要来了。”
亮亮抬起头，双眼通红，一脸的惊讶。
“老板听了你和你女朋友的故事，说送给你了。好好保存，这是他妻子结婚前送给他的生日礼物。”
写于2008年5月6日，原载于98。
原音社：漂流之爱
*2008年5月12日，发帖一周之后，四川汶川地震。
*2010年4月14日，青海玉树发生7.1级地震。
2010年4月16日星期五
如何让自己的个人博客播放歌曲
免费的个人博客没有ftp server，只能上传图片。想要播放歌曲等音频，只得通过外部的资源链接。
用百度的mp3搜索提供的链接，1）很多歌没有；2）链接有时效性。
用google group可以上传，但：1）上传空间只有100mb；2）url链接嵌入mp3播放插件时似乎有bug.
我发现的一个好办法是用google doc。上传后，将文件设置为共享：选中上传后的文件，右键点击，"share"--> "get the link to share..."，然后复制url链接，嵌入到播放器插件代码内。
我爱google。
示例：
我在Blogger上用的音频播放器html代码为：
<embed autostart="false" height="40" loop="true" src="mp3_file" type="audio/x-ms-wma" width="300"> </embed>
把mp3_file替换成要播放的歌曲ulr链接即可。
------updated on 2010/05/23-------
最近发现上面的播放器代码失效了。找了一个Google mp3 player的代码，可以用：
<embed id=Player scale="noScale" salign="TL" src="http://mail.google.com/mail/html/audio.swf?audioUrl=MP3_URL"
wmode="opaque" quality="best" bgcolor="#EEEEEE" width="400px" height="27px" name="Player" align="middle" allowScriptAccess="always" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer" ></embed>
同样的，把MP3_URL替换成要播放的歌曲ulr链接即可。播放器的长度(width)和高度(height)等参数可自行调节。
用百度的mp3搜索提供的链接，1）很多歌没有；2）链接有时效性。
用google group可以上传，但：1）上传空间只有100mb；2）url链接嵌入mp3播放插件时似乎有bug.
我发现的一个好办法是用google doc。上传后，将文件设置为共享：选中上传后的文件，右键点击，"share"--> "get the link to share..."，然后复制url链接，嵌入到播放器插件代码内。
我爱google。
示例：
我在Blogger上用的音频播放器html代码为：
<embed autostart="false" height="40" loop="true" src="mp3_file" type="audio/x-ms-wma" width="300"> </embed>
把mp3_file替换成要播放的歌曲ulr链接即可。
------updated on 2010/05/23-------
最近发现上面的播放器代码失效了。找了一个Google mp3 player的代码，可以用：
<embed id=Player scale="noScale" salign="TL" src="http://mail.google.com/mail/html/audio.swf?audioUrl=MP3_URL"
wmode="opaque" quality="best" bgcolor="#EEEEEE" width="400px" height="27px" name="Player" align="middle" allowScriptAccess="always" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer" ></embed>
同样的，把MP3_URL替换成要播放的歌曲ulr链接即可。播放器的长度(width)和高度(height)等参数可自行调节。
2010年4月15日星期四
The Old Feelings (那时的心情)
Written and Sung by Yang Yi. He can't sing the pitches of the notes right. He sings just like Bob Dylan.
The Old Feelings
(selected from the album Internal Reference)
When I'm singing this song, my good friend has left his home
wherever you are wandering about, there are always friends who care about you
no matter what you meet, sad or happy, please remeber the old feelings
the landscapes are ever-changing all along the way,
wheat fields heave up and down, and look, there are villages and the woods
the clanking of the train and the people sitting opposite me reminds me of the old feelings
good luck my friend, wish you met all the girls
love as you can, because you will be loved, too
if you are disappointed at them, please remember the old feelings
life is like a song, it never stops being sung
all I need to do is go from this stop to the next
when you find that you are free, how can you forget the old feelings?
那时的心情 (出自专辑《内部参考》)
唱这首歌的时候，我的哥们已离家出走，无论你在哪里流浪都有关心你的朋友，
不管你遇到的事让你快乐或者伤心，请你记住那时候的心情；
一路上都是不断变换的风景，大地上起伏的麦田，还有乡村和树林，
列车的声音和坐在对面的人，让我想起那时候的心情；
祝你走运朋友，遇到各式各样的姑娘，你尽管去爱吧，因为你也会被人欣赏，
如果你再一次对她们感到失望，请你记住那时候的心情；
生活像歌一样不停地唱，我要做的只是从这一站到下一站，
当你发现你已经是个自由的人，怎么会忘记那时候的心情。
The Old Feelings
(selected from the album Internal Reference)
When I'm singing this song, my good friend has left his home
wherever you are wandering about, there are always friends who care about you
no matter what you meet, sad or happy, please remeber the old feelings
the landscapes are ever-changing all along the way,
wheat fields heave up and down, and look, there are villages and the woods
the clanking of the train and the people sitting opposite me reminds me of the old feelings
good luck my friend, wish you met all the girls
love as you can, because you will be loved, too
if you are disappointed at them, please remember the old feelings
life is like a song, it never stops being sung
all I need to do is go from this stop to the next
when you find that you are free, how can you forget the old feelings?
那时的心情 (出自专辑《内部参考》)
唱这首歌的时候，我的哥们已离家出走，无论你在哪里流浪都有关心你的朋友，
不管你遇到的事让你快乐或者伤心，请你记住那时候的心情；
一路上都是不断变换的风景，大地上起伏的麦田，还有乡村和树林，
列车的声音和坐在对面的人，让我想起那时候的心情；
祝你走运朋友，遇到各式各样的姑娘，你尽管去爱吧，因为你也会被人欣赏，
如果你再一次对她们感到失望，请你记住那时候的心情；
生活像歌一样不停地唱，我要做的只是从这一站到下一站，
当你发现你已经是个自由的人，怎么会忘记那时候的心情。
县道184
* The song is by a Taiwan band that consists of farmers. They name the band Jiaogong (交工), pronounced /jorgon/. Jiaogong means that the farmers will help each other and exchange labor when they harvest the rice in summer. Actually the lyrics are not sung, but narrated in Hakka (or Kejia) through a man's voice.
Country Road 184
(selected from the album The Night March of the Chrysanthemums)
In the beginning
Country Road 184 was like an earthworm
wiggling to our village
from a place where the sun sets and no other languages reach
every time when father carried rice sacks to the community for fertilizer
he woud throw me onto the cow carriage to be a paperweight
I watched from there
Country Road 184 looked like a mouse cave
the trees were entangled with each other
from there hatched out the sparrows, butterflies and dark shades
I watched from there
Country Road 184 looked like a snake
a truck wouldn't show up until after a long time
loaded with thick timbers
trees were shoveled out of the hills in a thunder
the fields have been turned into a square coner
paved with interlaced asphalt roads
it is easier to farm the land
but it is harder to make a living
now
Country Road 184 is like a leech
fixed to our village
it sucks greedily, and it grows fat
the offsprings of the village
are sucked by it
with nothing left
县道184 （出自专辑《菊花夜行军》）
刚开始
像一尾蚯蚓
从日头落山、语糸又不通的地方
钻到我们这个庄头
每每父亲载谷包去农会换肥料
就会把我丢到牛车上头压重
从那儿望出去
县道184像一穴老鼠洞
路两旁的铁刀木勾来搭去
孵出麻雀、蝴蝶和树影
从那儿望出去
县道184像一条蝻蛇
久久才会有一辆摒屎(宾士)牌卡车
满满叠着粗大的桧木
轰天轰地从山里铲出来
重划过后田埂改转直角
柏油路铺得密密麻麻
耕田是越来越省力
但是越来越难赚食
县道184 这时候
像一尾水蛭
趴附我们这个庄头
越吸越肥、越吸越光鲜
一庄子后生
被它
吸光光
Country Road 184
(selected from the album The Night March of the Chrysanthemums)
In the beginning
Country Road 184 was like an earthworm
wiggling to our village
from a place where the sun sets and no other languages reach
every time when father carried rice sacks to the community for fertilizer
he woud throw me onto the cow carriage to be a paperweight
I watched from there
Country Road 184 looked like a mouse cave
the trees were entangled with each other
from there hatched out the sparrows, butterflies and dark shades
I watched from there
Country Road 184 looked like a snake
a truck wouldn't show up until after a long time
loaded with thick timbers
trees were shoveled out of the hills in a thunder
the fields have been turned into a square coner
paved with interlaced asphalt roads
it is easier to farm the land
but it is harder to make a living
now
Country Road 184 is like a leech
fixed to our village
it sucks greedily, and it grows fat
the offsprings of the village
are sucked by it
with nothing left
县道184 （出自专辑《菊花夜行军》）
刚开始
像一尾蚯蚓
从日头落山、语糸又不通的地方
钻到我们这个庄头
每每父亲载谷包去农会换肥料
就会把我丢到牛车上头压重
从那儿望出去
县道184像一穴老鼠洞
路两旁的铁刀木勾来搭去
孵出麻雀、蝴蝶和树影
从那儿望出去
县道184像一条蝻蛇
久久才会有一辆摒屎(宾士)牌卡车
满满叠着粗大的桧木
轰天轰地从山里铲出来
重划过后田埂改转直角
柏油路铺得密密麻麻
耕田是越来越省力
但是越来越难赚食
县道184 这时候
像一尾水蛭
趴附我们这个庄头
越吸越肥、越吸越光鲜
一庄子后生
被它
吸光光
Damien Rice says:
Interview available on youtube.
"I think people have a lot of fears. It's such a pity. I feel like it's such a pity because when I was in the band before, I was the same, like a person who's grown in a society and you're told by the society that you're supposed to go to school, go to college, get a degree, after you get a degree you get yourself a job, have a career, get yourself a house, get yourself a car, get married, have children, have security, have all these things that are important to you-- life! For me, all of those things destroy life. Because you know, as in life, what i feel really is which is... it's completely open, COMPLETELY OPEN, because if you need a house to be happy or secure, if you don't have a house then you're probably afraid, insecure and closing-up. For me, that's the opposite to life energy and love energy. Love energy is completely open and relaxed and trusting. and I just trust in life and I've been really poor sometiems, and I've been really wealthy sometimes, and I'm not happier when I'm wealthier, and I'm not happier when I'm poor. My happiness isn't determined by a number of records that i sell. My happiness isn't determined by whether I have a car or not or how much money I have or how much secure I have. I think the thing I've learned is to trust in life, just not worried about anything-- I'm not saying that I don't worry. I'm a human being, I'm not at all perfect.
I was at that period in my life with that song. I felt like all of the opposite things in life were teaching me about this as in... for example, in relationships, I found I became the best lier. I told the most incredible lies to the person I loved. That's where I learned how to lie, and from the moment we are born, we start dying. And the more you live, the more... you're like "OH, my God, I have so much to experience." Because the more you live, the more you see there is to live, the more you see there is to experience, and the more you realize I'm getting older and so it's like... the main thing I learned which is the last line It's not hard to grown when you know you don't know. And I realize I know nothing. There's nothing I know. "
"I think people have a lot of fears. It's such a pity. I feel like it's such a pity because when I was in the band before, I was the same, like a person who's grown in a society and you're told by the society that you're supposed to go to school, go to college, get a degree, after you get a degree you get yourself a job, have a career, get yourself a house, get yourself a car, get married, have children, have security, have all these things that are important to you-- life! For me, all of those things destroy life. Because you know, as in life, what i feel really is which is... it's completely open, COMPLETELY OPEN, because if you need a house to be happy or secure, if you don't have a house then you're probably afraid, insecure and closing-up. For me, that's the opposite to life energy and love energy. Love energy is completely open and relaxed and trusting. and I just trust in life and I've been really poor sometiems, and I've been really wealthy sometimes, and I'm not happier when I'm wealthier, and I'm not happier when I'm poor. My happiness isn't determined by a number of records that i sell. My happiness isn't determined by whether I have a car or not or how much money I have or how much secure I have. I think the thing I've learned is to trust in life, just not worried about anything-- I'm not saying that I don't worry. I'm a human being, I'm not at all perfect.
I was at that period in my life with that song. I felt like all of the opposite things in life were teaching me about this as in... for example, in relationships, I found I became the best lier. I told the most incredible lies to the person I loved. That's where I learned how to lie, and from the moment we are born, we start dying. And the more you live, the more... you're like "OH, my God, I have so much to experience." Because the more you live, the more you see there is to live, the more you see there is to experience, and the more you realize I'm getting older and so it's like... the main thing I learned which is the last line It's not hard to grown when you know you don't know. And I realize I know nothing. There's nothing I know. "
2010年4月14日星期三
卡瓦菲斯的两首诗
-- zorow_2000译自Edmund Keeley的英文
墙
毫无体谅，毫无同情，毫无羞耻
他们在我四周筑起了墙，高高厚厚的墙
现在我坐在这里，感到绝望
我无力思考，这一宿命咬噬着我的大脑——
因为在墙外我有那么多要做的事情
他们造墙的时候，我怎么会毫无察觉！
可是，我从未听到那些造墙的人，哪怕是一个声响
不知不觉，他们将我封闭在了世界之外
----------
Walls
--C.P. Cavafy
Without consideration, without pity, without shame
they've built walls around me, thick and high
And now I sit here, feeling hopeless.
I can't think of anything else: this fate gnaws at my mind;
because I had so much to do outside.
when they were building the walls, how could I not have noticed?
But I never heard the builders, not a sound.
Imperceptibly, they've closed me off the outside world.
=========
城市
你说：
“我要去另一个国家，另一个海岸，
找到另一个城市，比现在这个更好。
我竭尽所能，可总是事与愿违，
而我的心——如同死物一般——被下葬掩埋
我的大脑还要在此地发霉多久
无论我奔向何处，无论我如何寻望
我都看到在此地，我的生命留下的黑色残骸
就在这里
我度过了多少个岁月，我虚掷它们，将它们销毁殆尽。”
你不会找到新的国家，你不会找到另一个海岸
这个城市会永远追随着你
你会踏上同样的街道，在同样的邻区
变老，在同样的房子里满头灰白
你永远都逃不出这个城市，别寄希望与他处
没有船可以渡你，没有路
你已经在此地，在这个小小的角落，虚掷了你的生命
它将永远死去，无论你身处何地
---------
The City
--C.P. Cavafy
You said: “I’ll go to another country, go to another shore,
find another city better than this one.
Whatever I try to do is fated to turn out wrong
and my heart lies buried like something dead.
How long can I let my mind moulder in this place?
Wherever I turn, wherever I look,
I see the black ruins of my life, here,
where I’ve spent so many years, wasted them, destroyed them totally.”
You won’t find a new country, won’t find another shore.
This city will always pursue you.
You’ll walk the same streets, grow old
in the same neighborhoods, turn gray in these same houses.
You’ll always end up in this city. Don’t hope for things elsewhere:
there’s no ship for you, there’s no road.
Now that you’ve wasted your life here, in this small corner,
you’ve destroyed it everywhere in the world.
*有一个黄灿然译的中文版本，译得真好：《卡瓦菲斯诗集》，河北教育出版社
墙
毫无体谅，毫无同情，毫无羞耻
他们在我四周筑起了墙，高高厚厚的墙
现在我坐在这里，感到绝望
我无力思考，这一宿命咬噬着我的大脑——
因为在墙外我有那么多要做的事情
他们造墙的时候，我怎么会毫无察觉！
可是，我从未听到那些造墙的人，哪怕是一个声响
不知不觉，他们将我封闭在了世界之外
----------
Walls
--C.P. Cavafy
Without consideration, without pity, without shame
they've built walls around me, thick and high
And now I sit here, feeling hopeless.
I can't think of anything else: this fate gnaws at my mind;
because I had so much to do outside.
when they were building the walls, how could I not have noticed?
But I never heard the builders, not a sound.
Imperceptibly, they've closed me off the outside world.
=========
城市
你说：
“我要去另一个国家，另一个海岸，
找到另一个城市，比现在这个更好。
我竭尽所能，可总是事与愿违，
而我的心——如同死物一般——被下葬掩埋
我的大脑还要在此地发霉多久
无论我奔向何处，无论我如何寻望
我都看到在此地，我的生命留下的黑色残骸
就在这里
我度过了多少个岁月，我虚掷它们，将它们销毁殆尽。”
你不会找到新的国家，你不会找到另一个海岸
这个城市会永远追随着你
你会踏上同样的街道，在同样的邻区
变老，在同样的房子里满头灰白
你永远都逃不出这个城市，别寄希望与他处
没有船可以渡你，没有路
你已经在此地，在这个小小的角落，虚掷了你的生命
它将永远死去，无论你身处何地
---------
The City
--C.P. Cavafy
You said: “I’ll go to another country, go to another shore,
find another city better than this one.
Whatever I try to do is fated to turn out wrong
and my heart lies buried like something dead.
How long can I let my mind moulder in this place?
Wherever I turn, wherever I look,
I see the black ruins of my life, here,
where I’ve spent so many years, wasted them, destroyed them totally.”
You won’t find a new country, won’t find another shore.
This city will always pursue you.
You’ll walk the same streets, grow old
in the same neighborhoods, turn gray in these same houses.
You’ll always end up in this city. Don’t hope for things elsewhere:
there’s no ship for you, there’s no road.
Now that you’ve wasted your life here, in this small corner,
you’ve destroyed it everywhere in the world.
*有一个黄灿然译的中文版本，译得真好：《卡瓦菲斯诗集》，河北教育出版社
The book of disquiet
by Fernando Pessoa, translated by Richard Zenith (或许是佩索阿最好的译者了)
252
Thinking is still a form of acting. Only in sheer reverie, where nothing active intervenes and even our self-awareness gets stuck in the mud-- only there, in this warm and damp state of non-being, can total renunciation of action be achieved.
To stop trying to understand, to stop analysing... To see ourselves as we see nature, to view our impressions as we view a field-- that is true wisdom
253
... the sacred instinct of having no theories...
252
Thinking is still a form of acting. Only in sheer reverie, where nothing active intervenes and even our self-awareness gets stuck in the mud-- only there, in this warm and damp state of non-being, can total renunciation of action be achieved.
To stop trying to understand, to stop analysing... To see ourselves as we see nature, to view our impressions as we view a field-- that is true wisdom
253
... the sacred instinct of having no theories...
Wife and Fish
by Haizi, translated by me
I hold my wife like
water holds fish
I extend my hand trying
to touch the tiny rain drops
so that my lips wil blossom
but fish is a dumb woman sleeping
at the bottom of the river dying
lonely
in her dream
I can't see the water
the painful fresh water drowning
my hand and the fish, flowing
into my lips
the water will converge
my beloved wife is found
no more after the rain.
the water will converge
Nobody knows if it's my wife
above her water or the fish under the water
or if it's the fish above the water
or my wife underneath
After leaving my wife, I am
one
bag filled with fresh water
walking on the land
妻子和鱼
——海子
我怀抱妻子
就象水儿抱鱼
我一边伸出手去
试着摸到小雨水 并且嘴唇开花
而鱼是哑女人
睡在河水下面
常常在做梦中
独自一人死去
我看不见的水
痛苦新鲜的水
淹过手掌和鱼
流入我的嘴唇
水将合拢
爱我的妻子
小雨后失踪
水将合拢
没有人明白她水上
是妻子水下是鱼
或者水上是鱼
水下是妻子
离开妻子我
自己是一只
装满淡水的口袋
在陆地上行走
I hold my wife like
water holds fish
I extend my hand trying
to touch the tiny rain drops
so that my lips wil blossom
but fish is a dumb woman sleeping
at the bottom of the river dying
lonely
in her dream
I can't see the water
the painful fresh water drowning
my hand and the fish, flowing
into my lips
the water will converge
my beloved wife is found
no more after the rain.
the water will converge
Nobody knows if it's my wife
above her water or the fish under the water
or if it's the fish above the water
or my wife underneath
After leaving my wife, I am
one
bag filled with fresh water
walking on the land
妻子和鱼
——海子
我怀抱妻子
就象水儿抱鱼
我一边伸出手去
试着摸到小雨水 并且嘴唇开花
而鱼是哑女人
睡在河水下面
常常在做梦中
独自一人死去
我看不见的水
痛苦新鲜的水
淹过手掌和鱼
流入我的嘴唇
水将合拢
爱我的妻子
小雨后失踪
水将合拢
没有人明白她水上
是妻子水下是鱼
或者水上是鱼
水下是妻子
离开妻子我
自己是一只
装满淡水的口袋
在陆地上行走
Death Poem 2
by Haizi, translated by me
You, the girl I can see
the girl in water
please come to the wheat field
and put away my bones
into a bouquet of reed-flowers
put it into a box and take it home
You, the clean girl, the river girl
the girl I can see
please touch your hands on the wheat field
When I've lost my hope
of riding on my wheat back home
please tidy up my messy bones
and put them into a little wooden box and take them back
like you take back your rich bridal dowry
but please don't tell that woman
who is hanging clothes by the hay now, proped against the wood
-- my mother
死亡之诗(之二)
——海子
我所能看见的少女
水中的少女
请在麦地之中
清理好我的骨头
如一束芦花的骨头
把他装在箱子里带回
我所能看见的
洁净的少女, 河流上的少女
请把手伸到麦地之中
当我没有希望坐在一束
麦子上回家
请整理好我那凌乱的骨头
放入一个小木柜。带回它
象带回你们富裕的嫁妆
但是, 不要告诉我
扶着木头, 正在干草上晾衣的
母亲。
You, the girl I can see
the girl in water
please come to the wheat field
and put away my bones
into a bouquet of reed-flowers
put it into a box and take it home
You, the clean girl, the river girl
the girl I can see
please touch your hands on the wheat field
When I've lost my hope
of riding on my wheat back home
please tidy up my messy bones
and put them into a little wooden box and take them back
like you take back your rich bridal dowry
but please don't tell that woman
who is hanging clothes by the hay now, proped against the wood
-- my mother
死亡之诗(之二)
——海子
我所能看见的少女
水中的少女
请在麦地之中
清理好我的骨头
如一束芦花的骨头
把他装在箱子里带回
我所能看见的
洁净的少女, 河流上的少女
请把手伸到麦地之中
当我没有希望坐在一束
麦子上回家
请整理好我那凌乱的骨头
放入一个小木柜。带回它
象带回你们富裕的嫁妆
但是, 不要告诉我
扶着木头, 正在干草上晾衣的
母亲。
2010年4月13日星期二
4月6号，约翰内斯堡没赶上飞机
在我错过航班之后，我邪恶地想，或许那架飞往伦敦的飞机途中失事，而我阴差阳错躲过了这场飞来横祸。我很快地制止了这样以数百条人命为代价的自我安慰（由此可见5000人民币能让我的心灵扭曲成什么样），并很快转投到了另一种意淫：或许因为错过航班，我会在约堡的这两天遇到改变我一生的事或人，或许踏上一下班飞机，旁坐等着我的将是一场邂逅（艳遇就再好不过了）。
可是看着那张作废的london-cardiff的大巴车票，我又禁不住想，或许那辆大巴途中发生车祸，而我也因此躲过一劫。但我很快彻底制止了以血腥的意淫换取心理平衡同时引发自我道德谴责的做法。
回来不久就看到消息，波兰总统及政府官员乘坐的飞机失事，一百多人遇难。
可是看着那张作废的london-cardiff的大巴车票，我又禁不住想，或许那辆大巴途中发生车祸，而我也因此躲过一劫。但我很快彻底制止了以血腥的意淫换取心理平衡同时引发自我道德谴责的做法。
port-elizabeth airport
回来不久就看到消息，波兰总统及政府官员乘坐的飞机失事，一百多人遇难。
两本书
Schumacher, E.F. Small is Beautiful: a study of economics as if people mattered. 1973. Random House, Vintage.
好书，好书，好书。如果世界能有一个趋势的话，我希望是de-centralization.
Alexander, Chrisopher (ed). A Pattern Language: towns, buildings, construction. 1977. New York, Oxford University Press.
插图都是手绘的，堪称“简陋”。但里面诸多建筑、规划的原则确是久经时间考验积累下来的。穷人也可以按照这些原则造出合乎“语法”的房子。
* Anderson, Will. Diary of an Eco-Builder.2006. Green Books.
从购地到设计到选择建材到打地基到最后房子落成，很多造房的细节都汇集在了这本日记里。但书里也给英国各种设计、建材、建筑公司和绿色机构打了广告。看作者造eco-house，说到底还是一个钱，光看此书光鲜的印刷就知道，是卖给有钱的主看的。
* Waterfield, Patrick. The Energy Efficient Home: a complete guide. 2006. Crowood Press.
比上面那本书更靠谱。关于门窗的设计、采光、通风、节能设施，分章介绍地很具体。
好书，好书，好书。如果世界能有一个趋势的话，我希望是de-centralization.
Alexander, Chrisopher (ed). A Pattern Language: towns, buildings, construction. 1977. New York, Oxford University Press.
插图都是手绘的，堪称“简陋”。但里面诸多建筑、规划的原则确是久经时间考验积累下来的。穷人也可以按照这些原则造出合乎“语法”的房子。
* Anderson, Will. Diary of an Eco-Builder.2006. Green Books.
从购地到设计到选择建材到打地基到最后房子落成，很多造房的细节都汇集在了这本日记里。但书里也给英国各种设计、建材、建筑公司和绿色机构打了广告。看作者造eco-house，说到底还是一个钱，光看此书光鲜的印刷就知道，是卖给有钱的主看的。
* Waterfield, Patrick. The Energy Efficient Home: a complete guide. 2006. Crowood Press.
比上面那本书更靠谱。关于门窗的设计、采光、通风、节能设施，分章介绍地很具体。
2010年4月12日星期一
time flies
3月22号到南非开普敦，4月10号回英国，这期间所有关于Cardiff的人和事被我抛在了脑后。住在南半球的一个山坳里，唯一与外界的联系就是一根电话线和一部小卡车。白天听风看山赶牛，晚上熄掉灯火，坐在屋子外的木凳上，头顶的银河、繁星清澈透明。——“那三颗星是猎户座Orion的皮带，中间有点模糊的那颗就是星云。”
我有十多年没有这么端详黑夜的星空了。
一天中午坐在grahamstown的一家咖啡店喝茶。无意中抬头往身右边的墙上看去，目光还未在墙上落定，就见上面的挂钟掉了下来，一声巨响，客人们都怔住了，原本嘈杂的屋子顿时陷入寂静，残破的时钟躺在地上，那短暂的一瞬，地上落满了时间的碎片，屋内仿佛被暂停了，唯有屋顶的吊扇哗哗地转着。老板赶紧从柜台后面跑出来，拿来扫把和簸箕，拾起了挂钟。
“time flies.”旁座一个秃脑袋、在报纸上做着填字游戏的茶客说。
我回到了Cardiff，一切似乎都是旧样，半个多月的时间并不能改变什么。可是当我今天从冰箱里拿出黄油，掀起盖子时，却发现里面竟生出了墨绿的霉菌；打开果酱，里面竟也有一块灰白的霉斑；从开了口的袋子里拿出香肠，发现上面也有一处发霉了。这些霉菌的孢子在我离开的这半个月里静静地繁殖，向我丈量时间的尺寸。
去上瑜伽课的时候，一看表，已经晚8点了，天空还是亮堂堂的。半个月前，天一过6点就黑了。地球在这半个月里默默地沿着亘古的轨道绕着太阳旋转，向我丈量时间的尺寸。.
在厨房里做晚饭的时候，Mark对我说，他终于决定退学回美国做农民了。决定差不多是两个星期前做的。
去南非之前在QQ上碰到张丰平。他说，妻子前不久怀过孩子，两三个月大，去医院检查，结果说胎儿没有心脏，于是做了人流。爸妈家里的农地也被征了。
距离去他家喝喜酒已经一年半了。
这时间变化得真他妈快啊。
我有十多年没有这么端详黑夜的星空了。
一天中午坐在grahamstown的一家咖啡店喝茶。无意中抬头往身右边的墙上看去，目光还未在墙上落定，就见上面的挂钟掉了下来，一声巨响，客人们都怔住了，原本嘈杂的屋子顿时陷入寂静，残破的时钟躺在地上，那短暂的一瞬，地上落满了时间的碎片，屋内仿佛被暂停了，唯有屋顶的吊扇哗哗地转着。老板赶紧从柜台后面跑出来，拿来扫把和簸箕，拾起了挂钟。
“time flies.”旁座一个秃脑袋、在报纸上做着填字游戏的茶客说。
我回到了Cardiff，一切似乎都是旧样，半个多月的时间并不能改变什么。可是当我今天从冰箱里拿出黄油，掀起盖子时，却发现里面竟生出了墨绿的霉菌；打开果酱，里面竟也有一块灰白的霉斑；从开了口的袋子里拿出香肠，发现上面也有一处发霉了。这些霉菌的孢子在我离开的这半个月里静静地繁殖，向我丈量时间的尺寸。
去上瑜伽课的时候，一看表，已经晚8点了，天空还是亮堂堂的。半个月前，天一过6点就黑了。地球在这半个月里默默地沿着亘古的轨道绕着太阳旋转，向我丈量时间的尺寸。.
在厨房里做晚饭的时候，Mark对我说，他终于决定退学回美国做农民了。决定差不多是两个星期前做的。
去南非之前在QQ上碰到张丰平。他说，妻子前不久怀过孩子，两三个月大，去医院检查，结果说胎儿没有心脏，于是做了人流。爸妈家里的农地也被征了。
距离去他家喝喜酒已经一年半了。
这时间变化得真他妈快啊。
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