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Artwork by Ferlinghetti Poetry is what we would cry out upon coming to ourselves in a dark wood in the middle of the journey of our life. 诗歌是我们在人生旅途的黑暗丛林中冲着自己的哭喊。 Poems are burning bows, poems are arrows of desire, poetry gives words to the hearts. 诗歌是燃烧之弓，欲望之箭，心之言语。 Poetry is the truth that reveals all lies, the face without mascara. 诗歌是揭示一切谎言的真理，其脸上没有睫毛膏。 What is poetry? Wind stirs the grasses, howls in the passes. 什么是诗歌？风嚎叫着吹过草地。 Voice last and dreaming, door floated over the horizon. 声音在持续着做梦，一扇门漂浮过地平线。 O drunk flute O golden mouth, kiss kiss in stone boudoirs. 啊，醉酒的笛子，啊，金色的嘴巴，在石头的闺房中亲吻。 What is poetry? A clown laughs, a clown weeps, dropping his mask. 什么是诗歌？一个小丑在笑，一个小丑在哭，并丢下了他的面具。 Poetry is the Unknown Guest in the house. 诗歌是房子里的不速之客。 Poetry is the Great Memory, every word a live metaphor. 诗歌是那伟大的记忆，每个词语都是一个活的隐喻。 Poetry the eye of the heart, the heart of the mind. 诗歌是心灵的眼睛，是头脑的心灵。 Words wait to be reborn in the shadow of the lamp of poetry. 词语在诗歌之灯的阴影下等待着重生。 First light and a dark bird wings away---it’s a poem. 第一道光与一只黑鸟一同展翅而去-------这是一首诗。 The morning dove mourning night is my delight. 我的欢乐是那早晨的鸽子哀悼着夜晚。 Poems are e-mails from the unknown beyond cyberspace. 诗歌是来自赛博空间之外的未知世界的电子邮件。 Poetry is the ultimate inner refuge. 诗歌是终极的内心避难所。 Poems are lumina, emitting light. 诗歌是流明，发射着光芒。 Poetry as an anchor in your life is only as good as the depths it can reach. 诗歌是你生命中的锚，扎得越深越好。 Poetry as a first language before writing still sings in us, a mute music, an inchoate music. 诗歌作为写作前的第一语言依旧在我们心中歌唱，一种无声的音乐，一种稚气的音乐。 Life lived with poetry in mind is itself an art. 心中有诗的生活本身就是一件艺术品。 Poems like moths press against the window, trying to reach the flame. 诗歌像扑向窗户的飞蛾那样试着去扑向火焰。 Poetry the cry of the heart that awakens angels and kills devils. 诗歌是心灵的哭喊，会唤醒天使，杀死魔鬼。 Poetry is white writing on black, black writing on white. 诗歌是白纸黑字，黑纸白字。 Poems hide in night skies, in broken tenements, in autumn’s wind-swpet leaves, in lost and found letters, faces lost in a crowd... 诗歌藏在夜空，藏在破旧的公寓，藏在秋风吹拂的树叶，藏在失物招领的书信，藏在人群中的迷失的面孔... Poetry can be the bluegrass of literature, recalling us to down-home beginnings. 诗歌可以是那文学中的兰草，让我们想起那些淳朴的开端。 Poetry the painting of states of mind and deep profiles of faces. 诗歌描绘心境与面容。 Poetry a naked woman, a naked man, and the distance between them. 诗歌是一个裸男和一个裸女之间的距离。 Poetry the supreme fiction. 诗歌是终极的虚构。 Poetry is news from the growing edge on the far frontiers of consciousness. 诗歌是来自扩张中的潜意识之边界的新闻。 Poetry a mute melody in the head of every dumb animal. 诗歌在每一个愚蠢的头脑里都是无声的旋律。 Poetry a descant rising out of the dumb heart of darkness. 诗歌是从愚蠢心灵的黑暗处升起的旋律。 It is the light at the end of the tunnel and the darkness within. 它是隧道中的光明与黑暗。 It is the morning dove mourning love, and nothing cries out like the cry of the heart. 它是早晨的鸽子在为爱而哭，没有什么比内心的哭喊更加动人。 Poetry holds death at bay. 诗歌使死亡在劫难逃。 Poetry is not all heroin horses and Rimbaud. It is also the powerless prayers of airline passengers fastening their seat-belts for the final descent. 诗歌不是所有的迷幻之马与兰波。它同样是飞机降落过程中乘客们系安全带时的无力祈祷。 Poems fulfill longings and put life back together again. 诗歌满足了渴望并使生活重归于好。 Poetry the shortest distance between two humans. 诗歌是两个人之间最短的距离。 Every bird a word, every word a bird. 每只鸟都是一个词，每个词都是一只鸟。 And every poem an exaggeration, understated. 然而每首诗都是既夸张，又低调。 Poetry a procession of waterbirds in flight mixed with motor accidents. 诗歌是水鸟在飞行过程中遭遇的车祸。 Poetry is boat-tailed birds singing in the setting sun on the tops of jacaranda trees in the plaza of San Miguel De Allende. 诗歌是船尾的鸟在圣米格尔广场上的蓝花楹歌唱。 And all the birds of the universe flocking together in one huge book. 宇宙中所有的鸟都聚集在一本大书中。 A poem is a phosphorescent instant illuminating time. 一首诗是一个瞬间发光的时段。 Poetry is more than painting sunlight on the side of a house. 诗歌不仅仅是房子侧面画上去的阳光。 The impossible function of poetry is to fathom man’s destiny and transcend it. 诗歌最不具备的功能就是探索和超越人的命运。 Poetry is Van Gogh’s ear echoing with all the blood of the world. 诗歌是梵高耳朵里的回声，充满了全世界的血。 Poetry the primary conductor of emotion. 诗歌是情感最初的指挥者。 It is a lightning rod transmitting epiphanies. 它是一根传递顿悟的避雷针。 It is not a spent light, a burned-out lamp, a lume spento. 它不是一束熄灭的光，一盏燃尽的灯，一个关闭的世界。 It is a dragonfly catching fire. 它是一只扑火的蜻蜓。 It is a firefly of the imagination. 它是一只想象中的萤火虫。 It is the sea-light of Greece, the diamond light of Greece. 它是希腊的海洋之光，钻石之光。 Poetry is a bright vision made dark, a darkling vision made bright. 诗歌是制造黑暗的光明，制造光明的黑暗。 It is what the early spring is saying about the deaths of winter. 它是早春在诉说冬日之死亡。 It is a black kid dancing around a banana tree at night in a patio on Toulouse street. 它是一个黑人小孩在图卢兹街的露台上围着橡胶树跳舞。 Poetry is eternal graffiti in the heart of everyone. 诗歌是每个人心中永恒的涂鸦。 It is the solace of the lonely-loneliness itself poetic. 它是对于孤独的孤独自身诗意的慰藉。 Words on a page of poetry are a code for human emotions. 诗歌中的文字是人类情感的代码。 Paper may burn but words will escape. 纸可能被烧掉，而词语则会逃脱。 A poem is a mirror walking down a high street full of visual delight. 一首诗是一面在充满视觉观感的街上走着的镜子。 Poetry is the shook foil of the imagination. It can shine out and half blind you. 诗歌是想象中晃动的花剑。它会发光，并使你一半失明。 |
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