level 7
究多N
楼主
其实,因为是文科生的缘故,我一直对诗歌比较喜欢。加上高中的时候看过Gibran的Sands And Foams,觉得感触很深吧。心自由而言语自由。心向往而笔至所向。后来看了The legends of the fall的小说(我承认我是先看的电影
),觉得意境很像我之前看过的席慕容的一个诗集里的两首。感触很深,于是就想自己尝试着写写。 FREE VERSE就是不太讲究押韵的,虽然也会比较注意押尾韵,我个人觉得,内容大于形式。
顺便说一下,我的笔名是Jerry.
童年啊!!! 内容不要转载,转载请注明出处。
Lake and Wind
Jerry
One day when I am old to die
I wonder
If I can beg for a shiningnight
once more.
The moment when I turn around
I pray
For nothing but silence.
Just like the nightmany years ago
When the breeze wastender,
With the bluish whiteof the ripple.
Glory is the warmeststing in the darkness.
Walking beside the lake,
I looked back to thewater under the bridge.
The lake was forsakenand cold,
With the hope of youth
And the looming smellof tobacco
Which was hidden behind the one of gasoline
I dreamed of crossingthe lake
To run after theloneliness in the distance
But when I tottered through the goody groovesof time
I strongly feel thesuffering of roving,
With the scars chosenby myself
But I didn’t, don’ andwill never regret
Crabbily I keep tellingmyself, all the dimness is the glory
Which I look toward forso long
Doggedly I want to read the letters writtenfor my families,
for myself.
In the sunset of fall,with silent smile,
And then silently die
Beside the lake
Buried under the sands
2014年09月20日 10点09分
1
顺便说一下,我的笔名是Jerry.
Lake and Wind
Jerry
One day when I am old to die
I wonder
If I can beg for a shiningnight
once more.
The moment when I turn around
I pray
For nothing but silence.
Just like the nightmany years ago
When the breeze wastender,
With the bluish whiteof the ripple.
Glory is the warmeststing in the darkness.
Walking beside the lake,
I looked back to thewater under the bridge.
The lake was forsakenand cold,
With the hope of youth
And the looming smellof tobacco
Which was hidden behind the one of gasoline
I dreamed of crossingthe lake
To run after theloneliness in the distance
But when I tottered through the goody groovesof time
I strongly feel thesuffering of roving,
With the scars chosenby myself
But I didn’t, don’ andwill never regret
Crabbily I keep tellingmyself, all the dimness is the glory
Which I look toward forso long
Doggedly I want to read the letters writtenfor my families,
for myself.
In the sunset of fall,with silent smile,
And then silently die
Beside the lake
Buried under the sands