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挽歌  TWELVE SONGS

        
        
        
        把钟摆停住, 电话线掐断,
        
        一根骨头塞给汪汪吠犬,
        
        钢琴盖上, 锣鼓蒙上,
        
        棺材抬进来, 让致哀者行丧。
        
        
        飞机盘旋, 播放着哀乐,
        
        他死了! 讣告在天空传阅,
        
        为白鸽打上白领节, 致意,
        
        让交警戴着黑手套, 行礼。
        
        
        他曾是我的方向, 南北东西,
        
        我的工作日, 周末休息,
        
        还有夜半明月, 蜜语情歌,
        
        本以为爱能天长地久, 我错了!
        
        
        星星别再来, 每一颗都熄灭,
        
        收起月亮, 将太阳拆卸,
        
        砍平森林, 淘干海洋,
        
        因为这一切会永远令人心伤。
        
        (W. H.·奥单)
        
        
        
        
        
        
        Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
        
        Prevent the dog from barking with a jucy bone,
        
        Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
        
        Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.
        
        
        Let the aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
        
        Scribbling on the sky the message He is Dead,
        
        Put crepe bows round the write necks of public doves,
        
        Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.
        
        
        He was my North, my South, my East and West,
        
        My working week and my Sunday rest,
        
        My moon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
        
        I thought that love would last forever: I was wrong.
        
        
        The stars are not wanted now: put out every one;
        
        Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;
        
        Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood.
        
        For nothing now can ever come to any good.
        
        
        (W. H. Auden)
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