◎ Verbiage and Compass (阅读3750次)
1. The old codes will revive inside my body Those incoming incantations will be fulfilled that My pale shadow vanishing into the pinpoint of this mortal world exhibits The enchantment itself on the forehead of the lorn firmament
To new successors: they are more lonely and devout Walking in the indiscernible siege of privations. The gift We left can’t help anything, even the solid oars Having the possibility to transform into the overcast/burden
I am anxious at those non-existing that we can’t see Yet forget the tragedies hidden in the mere beings I should resist the presence, and return the non-existing objects Back to those afar. And today we will finish the job of the constant dread
This moment is the golden time for you to return home That kind of bronze is flying in the center of the woods I have in your exquisite description with a soft voice Seen the everlasting balance between the magnificence and us
2. The old tradition is lost in our hands. We are innocent Nor depressed. No one could criticize us the way it is The thought of woe is even worse than the truth We only miss the elegance in the old time, yet we are still on the road
From the broad road to the trail, from the leading actor to the supporting role The transients sigh for their lost salon to return, but we the proletarian If we belong to proletarian, were born into this world, what Can we complain? The beauty of a plastic rose is still a beauty
After all the eternal truth is settled. What would happen next We are not capable to prophesy. Our suspects are full of traps Yet today, today we are barred in a secluded corner And the wit still can hear our faint murmurs out of the tumult
The shape looks negligible, but the most developed human mixture Has not formed yet. I know the component, if it is not the core Of the core, is the most profound grain. In every fine grain There lives a soul, even if decayed, still as though the spectral daze
Show us the mirage, in the machine, in the flying spaceship We will accept novel inventions, including sins and tears in the new world And survive in those apathetical smiles, or the constantly changed cause When we review today’s anxiety, fear, confusion, and degeneration
3. You will find the chain-ring puzzle within the inconsistent fact Yet the chain-ring puzzle contains a clear order that I do not have any insight Even the chain-ring puzzle itself falls into the turbid stream of imagination And the fact: Isn’t it a straight log?
Swing over the head, herd to the prairie From the lowerland. Does it matter I see it or not? Return to the internal silence, those yonder are still in silence Covering my face. Nothing is sophisticate
Emphasize one of them, yet the emphasis is transient The eternity lines up, yet the balance has thousands of scales Endless scales, and the adininfinium beam, which Exhibiting a shred of evidence in this world only exists in my heart
I wish it is not a bubble melting into thin air, instead an ordinary person Who exists, from his handwriting which I can read Though you still can’t tell if I had the confidence or made my mind That I already started the journey on a piece of papyrus
4. Anything could survive, with a fairy tale or a trademark On its face. I don’t care about your right, nor protect The arrangement and position of words in my heart The machine extracting abstract, follows him. Curtains up!
The followings are under the lead of four seasons, to some extent Also in your hands, so I have some humble concerns I know it is a part of the caecum. Being an irresolute chess player With one chessman in my left hand, I am taking another one in my right hand
I know clearly the trend in my future, but why Can’t I appreciate the magnificent presence? The twisted presence And the grandiose past? The sands neglected in foliage of a phoenix tree Are counted one by one, but I have no idea what to do with them
Tangled with time, the fragility and the clogged darkness Casted in the shadow, creep into the timeless land It is almost the destiny, though I am so innocent Maybe better sit down to get a brief rest
5. Facing to the unfamiliar object, at least it looks like One part of an impasse. I pick up one To get in, maybe there is no way in, and I am forced out With a bowl of dirty water, leftovers, and an angry cry
If I can get in, it doesn’t matter if any accident May happen, even with the finale of death Though it is too extreme, not an iota of the chance I can imagine approximately what may occur next
A little kid knows nothing, with deep sorrow Trapped in a little prison with grille “Please Sir, let me out, I will buy whatever you have” Several coins rolling lonely on the ground
Maybe a lady, filled with lust, is still Sedate. Soft encounter slips away Away. The apathetical group farewells to all like a wisp of marijuana smoke, and all will be forgotten
A machine, why not the space likes a machine? If the stuff is exactly the same as in your bag How funny is it when you get back home? What Do you want to sell to the world, on this pile of trash?
The conscience and the following raindrops Fell off from the forehead into the heart. Crying In the cold winter, I became another kind of Gipsy On the snow highway, wishing for an exit to my tranquility
6. Does it make any sense discussing the center of the storm while standing Outside the storm? We are far away from the outside, even out Of our bodies. Let them discuss their gardens, terrain, earth and songs Of insects. We are here with us, and we will tell who wants to listen
They already exist, oh no, they were born along with you In your unalloyed darkness, their sensitive ears have already caught up The richness, like the finest tone of the melody. Meditating upon The bitter wine, how can you tell the taste in the core?
Although the shapes are similar, I can’t find the test paper That already changed color. Like the difference of flights of one inch and five-thousand feet It is not the gesture, neither the color that we want. It is the range Within the range, we have escaped from the prison
Where did I stand, while talking about the core? Comparing with outsiders, I am the same. Where is he who is depressed because of us? Yet he in the core keeps silent They have their problems to deal with, but they don’t have to tell us
7. Acting like us, I in fact is still the one and the group Similar like his shadow and ghost, concealing himself From the loneliness, literally, choosing the powerful Lies, yes lies, to make the loneliness satisfied
So expose the part that I can’t control at the tail, how to unmask My own trick? My opinion about the next generation is: in fact there are A whole bunch of different people, with the names of priests, sailors Or whatever. I don’t care what kind of titles they wear
They are passing by, now and then. I will Show my principle, but not the moment in the past Representing one part of the public. Maybe it really means it My direction looks more straightforward than the succession of the seasons More like my brother’s name, in the winter, I initiated The story with the longing tone: it is not the decade, so I must Clarify, not the decade, but the sands of time falling Through an endless fissure along my finger
8. My life is full of various miracles. In the ear-shape Wood chamber, in the thick shadow of plum flowers No one can see her soft dancing posture, when the world Sinks into the aged wine, splashing a rosy halo on top of the head
She is in my lung, but I am ravished with the elf She is in my stomach, but I fall deeply into my dream Such a pity, we lost the last chance to escape The red-hair child opens his eyes, disappears in oblivion
Every miracle, has one wisp of black mystery Every mystery, has one layer of drawers with fortune-wheel Switching on and off. The ghosts meander with the moonlight My shoulder is under your rejoicing wet arm
Getting closer to the emptiness, for the last Accomplishment, my firm and beauteous shadow conceals My maudlin and timid heart. The flimsy cloak Drapes over my shoulder. In the finale, something flows away
9. Burn the map, shrink my size The object expands, Oh no, only recovers From the very beginning. I referr to the shape Not the content. The inside story, who knows?
Priest? Sir? Not natural? None of them. It is confirmed, so don’t mention The sad story anymore. In the basket The gray snow piles up at the corner, like a greyhound
The toy, the small gift left for whom I don’t know, Tony. Don’t ask me, Jane I know nothing about it. If you persist, it is only A teardrop, in a sentimental dream
You will see, I am sure you will, at the corner One dog, stands up, circles around A lovely bone, swims into the depth Of the light. The lovely bone, used to have An intact structure, jumping, and laughing On your earth. Oh please, please don’t Lead us the wrong way. Here we go, a dream From here. A withered tree reminisces about the vicissitude
10. Push down further, along the last sentence, the last word Based on my humble talent, how could I reach the eternity? Even with the colorful illusion, I have to stop at the third sentence, or The second. There are no piles of broken porcelain, neither the sheen like gold
Flood into the heart of the forth sentence and Stop there. Hanging in the middle, I only scribble The great dedication finished in a sloppy way. Wandering into the strange land The history continues rolling without hesitation, but with a broken chain
Tied in the cleavage between ribs, when do you think it will break? When will the disaster happen? Maybe in The first sentence, the first word already predicts the future From the hidden engine, roaring in the foaming room
We can not see, neither can we find Under the guide of the God, the perfect shell, as good as it Gets. It is doomed. Whatever you do in the journeying At this moment, is doomed. Next moment, you are plummy.
11. That particular moment, the year, or the hour Will fade into forgetfulness. 1994, fresh? Cherishable? For intellectuals on the earth Everything is old, before born into this world.
The original character, finally found by the ponderer From the clueless lawn, not cheated, only disguised As those simple rendezvous in youth Falls into abyss. Who can fish the darkness out?
With the help of a complicated machine? How long do we have to struggle on this road? Why not just go ahead, like Bunin Glancing around, or taking off glasses to produce the masterpiece of abstract In the imaginary light, the bible is chequered with the soft shade of flowers
The debonair amenities can’t conceal the powerless distress The accurate and perfect dream swings on the right scale of The balance. Your destiny is right there, as if the finger print But not the wrinkle, spending the rest of his life on the forehead of the sunset
12. My old days, just like yours Disappear in the dusty eventide. Your tears Taste same as mine, but we are rather aloof, sitting Apart. And we have to go through the endless days together
I was so afraid that I would miss you, or a good guy Like you. But I don’t believe it anymore It doesn’t mater, with or without the god Let’s say it, and I will say it with alacrity
I said it, so what? The world, and nihility, won’t change at all. In the deep well, they are waiting for fools like you and me All of us will be trapped there. Don’t cry All of us will be very delighted when trapped there
Time becomes shorter, which is most essential The shortened time built upon a joyful kingdom Why can’t we reach in advance, along the shining blade or the string? I am shivering, and I hear the cynical remarks on my strategy
13. I am beneath the whole world. I am the spring of the darkness I am smaller than the smallest, but bigger than an ant And the sage where the ant hides. I can’t see the show Produced by them, under the starry night and the evanescent illusion
A big lime-stone on the top, like the perfect snow flake, or The melancholy that we can’t bear. But I am a stitch in time Shoring the house up by a gown is too fragile Facing such a bizarre scene, I do not stir an eyelid
The possibility of the incoming danger is close to that of Turning the color of my hair to white, as if two brown prattlers Staring at each other over the mirror. How far is it under the scale Of this world? Alas, I will be weary of mysteries in my rest life.
From the insight and the starting point, the body gets no chance to Blow. They pray in their own way. They slip into the abyss The parade encourages my decadent sentiments down To the layer you have to peel through to see the flash in the core
14. Put the time and grammar in fetters, finish the only Journey named nihility, with no phrase used in concentration camp Because they are too big, neither fit in the golden section nor the body shape Of beings. Even the base of the smallest finger is too generous
Restrained admiration overstepped the air, the class. Last night When I took a shower, it has captured the fort of my skin pores, Secreting colorless fluid, became a part of the labor In fact it is the tears from rebels, washing off the disgrace in the past
The skeleton is like a maze, and the protagonist is everywhere The disturbed program makes me dizzy, and the speed, the weep of the shadow One second after another second, the tense, and the feebleness If I slice everything in the middle, do you believe we will produce miracles and the Enlightenment?
With whatever techniques, we have to find a starting point Within the limitation of the freedom, though the evanescent axis Is blended in the icy spring mist. The monitor shows all the possibilities But I only care one. I will be able to rest with the one I care
15. The spirit of Boy Scout is the source of the sentence Yet the loneliness is still there, touched by aliens, sprouting fungus On the street where the chains are forged in profusion, I suddenly Wake up at midnight by my constant worry of the union
One revolution, at least damages the earth, so the new cause Burgeons, but the ghost hand pushing the sentence down makes me discontent The melon picked before maturity is not mellow, but the arsenic tastes mellow Helping the strong tide over a crisis, the non-existing is hit by the panic
Hide yourself in the dark. The virus in the air is only good For those on the road, maybe better for those with no way out. Reading books Until the end of the day we rest, I am struggling with the cadence in one Movement. The sweat drops on the hot plate, bubbling out, and then forming the sign of the Cross
How come you end up in the woods? Hung on the side of the door One inch higher than the floor, disembodied from the breast I Raise the whip to the world, castigating the fast moving shadow Not fast enough though, it sticks in the throat. An autumn hatchet
16. How to tell the path in your heart from the tradition? Facing the desolate, which is the main point, the old Modifier changed at some tiny details is changing The accumulated devastating elements, right now
Being left out, as the stem cells of the opposite, in Florence, which party do you belong? In the humdrum Afternoon toward to the next day, maybe harvest in the next day, or the even Poorer moorland, I am going back home in an oxcart soaked in the mud
I can’t survive without any support, including the alloy pen tip I have to pick up the material from the misted monastery. Standing There, who is looking back? For sure, but do not mistake this As a gesture of surrender. He stole the structure of beings from the cemetery
Based on what you switched everything in between different systems? How many layers of the furnace can you hold in you brain? Burning The illusion produces the potential logic, weak at the tail Substituted by a sigh, or a hyphen like a ray of hope
17. From decades up to the time, discard details and lovers The solar system around me, the sullen people, and iron tools Reminisce along the spiral snail’s shell, or even more complicated Path to appreciate, but not to recover the original appearance
Imagine the spirit disembodied from the earth, though still on the road Between the procedure and the goal. So many space stations are under Construction. The first unit produced the affiliated reactions The rank of conceit and the vanity of history finally elucidate the illusion
It speeds up the process of digging. Right now, no need to know The real situation, nor provide the marijuana and tableware You have to choose the method, pointing to the past, the demonstrative Pronoun, and the second one, where repeating is a humiliated paragraph
Against the corrosion layer by layer. All the energies are exhausted On maneuvers. Against last night, the well will be excluded Down to the brain, retrieving the thrown-out With a new ID, Utopia and other Utopians
18. You thought you finished it, in fact it is a mere supposition Do not use the pronoun, which hinders the exposure of the secret In the finale. Play the hide-and-seek with a rejoicing rambler who Lost the sharp tone at the end, like a decadent nap at noon
Gather to one place to share the moisture: the rain, snow, frost, and dew are stridden over easily. When can you gain the speed of light? The honest servant The old-fashioned sentence, lean backwards. What can you do to cancel The status of the kernel, to admire the new emperor dressed up in brocade?
In one of the serial films, the face fades from live to gray In a century emphasizing on the balance, the axis in the middle Does not have such a scene with such a grotesque style The debris is swimming in the pond on the paper, waving to the top of the land
Yet this small kingdom is suffering setbacks from the starting point The shadow of Dadaism floats in the mirror, drawing back the giveaway The challenge from the reminiscence, the up-side-down acrobat, the pomegranate blooming At the crossroads, are looking for perfect results, while destroying the half-finished with flaws
19. In the afternoon after work, I start writing the song of medication Full of details, the silhouette looks like a fragile hair and the inside like The metal. I think it belongs to the hardware From which a blue cup is coated with lacquer
Maybe other readers select it by chance, How could I Know inside their brains the gray waves traveling Around and forming the picture that I can recognize The possibility is so low that we will die inside the small well
The poor speaker. I made a sharp turn with the tone Towards to the past so I can keep the original thoughts Among the nonsense. Pause in the middle of cooking Fast food, a small section will be deleted soon
With all the required components in the play, please excuse me that I omitted all except the explanation. They are moving their mouths And I am an elf living in their vivid mouths Yet I am too big. It can be used as the starting material for a joke
20. Among those series named as terminators, my migration As if the ant struggling on the hot pot, wins myself Kind laughter. The way I called ramble, from trunks Shrunken into the soul, simply surrenders to the tranquility
But I don’t want to give up my habits such as writing, due to Reasons such as my age. If I am right at the end of my journey My hands naturally droop, but I don’t follow my sense I break my rules, because I don’t trust myself, without my favorite stick
Maybe the human beings will be gone forever, but I haven’t tried Nor dare. Once I leave the glorious chain, I will never return Those who know the consequences will get the compassion from above I am still struggling for the uniform, to overcast different curves
Adopt the posture in the cabinet, write down the hypothetical weather condition But not check the man-made calendar, as though sleep beneath the earth Work, as a grand hollow illusion in this mortal world. People Are dismissed, the heart yet is still beating like the bell-chiming reporting the time
21. Recite, to an empty room, or a visionary person The identity fluctuates, after one section, even in the waist of the sentence Only a couple words, make him realize the meaning of next sentence, but Not the form. The form is the real crux
Assign a fixed tone to a radial object, though The area in control shrinks, which the sad crofter does not care He appreciates that you are with me on the same direction You know everything of mine, though the influence may be bad
Who knows it is pouring out to himself, as force does Echo from walls, vibration in the throat, teardrops in eyes And mist, like the rehearsal in the play, the bowstring Rubbing around, what he feels despondent, all the way to the end, has not been tossed
He received more apathy than appealing silence, yet he is not sure How many centimeters is his recitation restricted within? Maybe Not tangled in the mouth, they already returned to their small chamber As if the journey in a calabash, upside down, bottom big but entrance small
22. Life in the winter, inside the house, creeps silently. One day May be the whole life of a grasshopper. Using his calendar, to calculate our Time, so I have to write down notes, about those look like Similar thoughts, but actually different, even transition
Mimic the compound eyes of a honeybee, inlaid with details of ivory shells, but for sure Get rid of the taste of sweat, and the color of yellow. Practice the plan we had before The pang and joy are thrown out. As a tradition They are not our favorites anymore, indeed, disgusting as the 100-meters dash
All the significance of writing, in this cause, become significant Since we can’t find more suitable method, the video-recorder might work Yet for those poor writers, it is still not a possible Option. Soak the part with poetic inspiration, but not now
Well settled gloom, corresponds to the length of a sentence. Hide Whatever relevant. In the winter, only one minor thing is worth trying Hide behind the apple box, nap for a while, and crawl over the mirror On the cover of a pamphlet, a dot curls his brown leg
23. Do not believe that the concept is hung on top of our heads, like the sunshine Shining over our lumped heads, which is the rule to select an emperor Knowing little about anything except Chinese, won’t help Our admiration to Chinese, belief and others, with no negative effects
With one forth of the destiny, about the presence, I Have to say, obscurity is more appealing than clarity. Right Now, he is the only guest with a special permit that he can Ride on us and we have to thank him for his direction
Don’t blame others. We have a limited power, a small territory like A finger nail. We need more rounds of the Resurrections. Another kind of superior Eccentricity, which have brought us misfortune, happen to Fall upon our souls. We are under his watch
Raised with nonchalant fodders, he doesn’t expect us Create miracles in the prairie. We are not used to be praised Behind the double-microphones. We have pig-tails on our heads It is the mane, blowing the wind into our still shirts, to form new storms
24. Floating up from the background, as if a miserable soul Of a svelte lady, the wisdom of the dusk swirls toward the standing Patio and away. The watcher behind the scene, saw the moment Passing away. Save the illusion, to remind myself later
Digression: fondle with such a deeply ingrained heartbreak, with the rhythm and The softness from elsewhere. Nails inside the mouth, are smashed into pieces Only one left intact, dragged into the stomach by the tongue, produces the miserable feeling Rather not to test. The river and the motel in the wildness. The tranquility
Swirling toward me, if it is a serving tray, or an airport, which will be fine If it is a similar galaxy, the disaster can not be avoid Anxiety is boiling tea in my chest, with nose puffing white steams In the sullen sky, I am hugged by Pope. Ohm, Osip
But he brushes past by, in a similar pattern as the watcher has seen Where does he stop? Why he rambles endless? He grants us the light, which of mine gets a longer life? Though it makes other stuff shorten, which makes my heart broken
25. Farewell, to the history, and people But not the mortal life. In the banquet As the left part of my body, how do I Dissemble myself, with my ink-soaked hands?
One, only one person, and a good word But why you just can not understand? With only one You will own the whole world. In the basket of the galaxy There are all kinds of cookies, made by one cook
Both ends of the scale, are important. Be Not afraid of the weakness. In the pavilion The stinky smell from the reed, wafts out With guests. I cleaned out leftovers at midnight
The bell is chiming, rest all the deities The bowing kid returns back to the cover page Of his book. The gaze brushes through the earth Art has a feminine spirit, and she is prettier than me
26. In the storehouse of metaphysics, select the suitable Wisdom; In an elegant hard-cover album Fix the gracious and show the glorious figure Isolated from days of yore, for the new generation
Almost all fair tales are based on this model “For the new generation”will be studied on the lab bench Dissected by all kinds of instruments, even left out in the green barrel In the garden, who will know for sure what would happen next?
You should understand my tone of supposition, one group And another, show no relationship like that of galaxies. Don’t Even mention the damn ties of blood, and one person and another, such as Me, the author, and you, the reader
Whatever you have done, has nothing to do with me; Vise Versa………The continuity will exhibit The new form that we don’t even understand today, like a cunning Fish, blowing bubbles with none of them are the same
27. Torturing each other, the real happiness is wandering on the street The wanderer, is paying for his vexations, the burden of gold In every moment, grasp your soul with blood seeping Out, riding on a black steed in the fire!
On our barren heads the outside casts with Pleasant gloss, but there are the real days and nights The deity, turns away in elegance. Bestow Upon my whole life in the darkness, to exchange a brief sunshine with you
Why? Brooding in his mind, darn it What else does the emperor know of your secrets? In this section It is my turn to question the mysterious region with the burning roses I will embrace the burning family name forever, on the way in exile
Being perfectly content, in the mortal life The only survived emperor is very irritable A lady, and a hotel In the front room, I take the elevator down to the hell
2004/04
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