搜了一下，貌似没有……
于是就发过来了~
一楼照例，给百度

War Poems


Alan Rickman read Goran Simic at The International Writers' Season of The Orange Word, 12th December, 2001, at the Apollo Theatre
Dogs and Bones
After a few days of war
the Sarajevo streets were a catwalk for dogs:
perfumed dogs, well-groomed dogs, dogs
with cut-glass collars
and not a flea between them. Their owners
had left them as they left
the burning city.
The trash-heaps became
a battlefield where the lapdogs lost
to an army of strays, lean-limbed
and mangy with hate.
Cowering and cleansed, the back-alley refugees
retreated to the doorways
of locked apartments, barking in answer
to each unearthly whistle
as the morning shells came in.
...one of those locked apartments
where we kicked down the door, searching
for a bastard sniper and found
the skeleton of an old woman fused
to a kitchen chair, yes, merged with the wood.
She had starved to death
sitting next to a pantry crammed with cans of food.
We spent a long time debating the crucial issue
of her religion. Yackety-yack. We could get no clue
from the photos that littered the place,
or the needlepoint of a knight
and castle, or the hundred
bottles of perfume placed around her bed.
Her piously folded hands remained a secret.
It was dawn before the argument died out
and we carred her into the street where dogs
were fighting amid the garbage--
nothing they wouldn't risk,
nothing they wouldn't eat. Who cares,
anyway? Who knows
whether she even believed in God? 'By God,
God will find his hands full
after this war," someone said, and we fell
silent, pretending not to see
her silly grin, and the sudden silver glint
of the can-opener on its chain
around her neck.
Beginning After Everything
After I buried my mother
(under fire, I sprinted from the graveyard)
after the soldiers came with my brother
wrapped in a tarp
(I gave them back his gun)
after the fire in the eyes of my children
as they ran to the cellar
(the rats ran ahead of them)
after I wiped the old woman's face
with a dishtowel
(terrified to reveal a face I knew)
after the ravenous dog
feasting on blood
(just another corpse in snipers' alley)
after everything
I wanted to write poems like newspaper reports,
so heartless, so cold,
that I could forget them, forget them
in the same moment that someone might ask me,
'Why do you write poems like newspaper reports?'
Christmas
'I'm blind,' I say. I don't speak again
for a very long time. Of course,
I'm lying about being blind: if I look


The Lang War


Alan Rickman read The Long War for Peace Day
The Long War
Less passionate the long war throws
its burning thorn about all men,
caught in one grief, we share one wound
and cry one dialect of pain.
We have forgot who fired the house,
whose easy mischief spilt first blood,
under one raging roof we lie
the fault no longer understood.
But as our twisted arms embrace
the desert where our cities stood,
death's family likeness in each face
must show, at last, our brotherhood.

性感之声又来了！！！

手机党留名,周末回家开电脑听

衣衣真好！明天下下来，哈哈~

回复：8楼
头啊，你起的真早~
我刚从影院看原声版的教授，AR真声回来，洗了澡还没睡呢，你这都起床工作了……

先留名 领导走了偷偷看

衣衣辛苦了~~~这两诗歌感觉内容还真一致哎

衣衣~~

嗷嗷嗷嗷我的心都要化了~~~

...不知道怎么下，能给我发一下吗？
[email protected]

太棒了
谢谢楼主

按个爪印，周末看…

回复：4楼
The Long War 长期战争by 洛里．李
无情而漫长的战争正犹如燃烧的荆棘鞭笞著所有人
我们有著同样的不幸
我们有著同样的伤口 我们为一个名叫『伤痛』的共同语言悲泣
我们已经遗忘了是谁焚毁了我们的家园
是在谁轻率的恶作剧之下开启了杀戮
在这暴乱肆虐的天空下我们共存著
这些教训不再被了解
可当我们敞开双手拥抱这个犹如废墟般的城市
看著那一张张经历家人死亡的面孔，必能唤回我们同胞之爱


LZ
看这里看这里
下不来
发给俺好嘛
[email protected]

萨拉热窝之春至爱至爱~

额，那位童鞋能告诉偶声，怎么下？或者帮个忙发下也行[email protected]
多谢了~~~~~