作者tlyeh (aliang)
看板Education
标题欧巴马的就职颂诗
时间Fri Jan 23 06:37:16 2009
From:
[email protected] Thu Jan 22 17:18:13 2009
人,并不会因为梦想而伟大。
而人,的确因为梦想而有了伟大的可能。
当美国在过去的八年被人称为流氓国家,
在世人面前一块砖一片瓦地剥落颓垮,
当我的孩子们开始不好意思跟同学提起他们的美国护照。
我们一度认为,成住坏空的历史周期谁也逃不过,
风光了大半个世纪的美国,就在我们的见证下,
终归轮到该她倒下的时候了。
但是,美国的六千四百万公民,
在这个不敢作梦垂头丧气的时代,
勇敢地共筑了一个新的梦。
或许,就我看来,他们真正要表达的是:
美国,仍然是一个有能力作梦的国家。
一个成熟的民主国家,不至於把任何一个人当作救世主。
这群敢於作梦的公民,
以及在零下一度的广场上鹄立守候的三百万平民百姓,
起码还是昂起了头,
向世界宣告了他们仍然保有那作梦能力的骄傲。
在他就职的前两天,台湾的报纸上就有好几篇关於女诗人 Elizabeth Alexander
将在典礼中献诗的报导。两天过去了,却没看到後续报导。这让我有些失望。
今天下午,我去纽约时报找到了 Alexander 的全文。
在国内学者终於准备好要告诉我们这首诗的故事以前
(我特别等着南方朔的译文或赏析),
我们先勇敢地看看这首诗吧。
Praise song for the day: the Inaugural Poem for Obama
by Elizabeth Alexander
January 20, 2009 (Transcript from New York Times)
Each day we go about our business,
walking past each other,
catching each others' eyes or not,
about to speak or speaking.
All about us is noise.
All about us is noise and
bramble, thorn and din,
each one of our ancestors on our tongues.
Someone is stitching up a hem,
darning a hole in a uniform,
patching a tire,
repairing the things in need of repair.
Someone is trying to make music somewhere
with a pair of wooden spoons on an oil drum with cello,
boom box, harmonica, voice.
A woman and her son wait for the bus.
A farmer considers the changing sky;
A teacher says, "Take out your pencils. Begin."
We encounter each other in words,
words spiny or smooth,
whispered or declaimed;
words to consider, reconsider.
We cross dirt roads and highways that mark the will
of someone and then others who said,
"I need to see what's on the other side;
I know there's something better down the road."
We need to find a place where we are safe;
We walk into that which we cannot yet see.
Say it plain, that many have died for this day.
Sing the names of the dead who brought us here,
who laid the train tracks, raised the bridges,
picked the cotton and the lettuce,
built brick by brick the glittering edifices
they would then keep clean and work inside of.
Praise song for struggle;
praise song for the day.
Praise song for every hand-lettered sign;
Then figuring it out at kitchen tables.
Some live by "Love thy neighbor as thy self."
Others by first do no harm,
or take no more than you need.
What if the mightiest word is love,
love beyond marital, filial, national.
Love that casts a widening pool of light.
Love with no need to preempt grievance.
In today's sharp sparkle, this winter air,
anything can be made, any sentence begun.
On the brink, on the brim, on the cusp --
praise song for walking forward in that light.
--
中央大学数学系‧单维彰
http://libai.math.ncu.edu.tw/~shann
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