On Simple English Poetry (I)
skill
Jonathan Allen
Blondin made a fortune walking back and forth.
Walking a tightrope over Niagara Falls-blindfolded,
Or in a sack, or pushing a cart, or standing on stilts,
Or carry a person on your back. Once, on the way,
He sat down to cook and ate an omelet.
Houdini, locked and thrown into Lake Michigan.
Lock it in a heavy box and swim back to the boat.
A moment later. He can swallow more than one hundred needles.
And some thread, and then pulled from between his lips.
The needles are swinging at even intervals.
I can close my eyes and see your house.
Silently burst into dazzling flash,
There is no vibration at all. When I opened my eyes again,
My heart is in my throat and everything is still.
Just like before, but not as if nothing had happened.
On Simple English Poetry Part II
Skunk time
Author: robert lowell
For elizabeth bishop.
Hermit of Nautilus Island
The heiress still lives in her simple hut for the winter;
Her sheep are still grazing on the sea.
Her son is a bishop. Her farmer
Is the first voter in our village,
She's senile.
yearn for
Hierarchical privacy
Queen Victoria's century,
She bought everything.
An eyesore facing her coast,
Let them fall.
This season is uncomfortable-
We lost our summer millionaire,
It seems that he jumped off a bean.
Catalogue. His nine-verse roar
Was auctioned off to a shrimp catcher.
A red fox stain covered the blue mountain.
Now our fairy
The decorator lights up his shop for autumn,
His fishing net is full of orange corks,
Orange, his shoemaker's bench and awl,
His job doesn't make money,
He would rather get married.
One dark night,
My Tudor Ford climbed the skull of the mountain,
I am looking for a love car. The lights dimmed,
They lay side by side,
Where is the cemetery in the town? . . .
My mind is not normal.
The car radio bleats,
Love, oh, careless love. . . .' I heard
My evil soul whimpers in every blood cell,
It's like my hand is on its throat. . . .
I'm hell myself,
No one is here—
Only skunks, this kind of search
Eat something in the moonlight.
They strutted along the main road:
White stripes, red flames of eyes in the moonlight.
Under the chalk-dry and crystal stone spire
Trinity church.
I stood at the top.
Breathe rich air—
A skunk mother with a group of kittens is yelling loudly.
garbage can
She poked her wedge head into the cup.
Sour cream, dropping her ostrich tail,
And it won't scare you.
On Simple English Poetry (3)
sky
Author: An Zhe Lina Bo Lonska Ya
Translated by Andrew Wa Hitter.
He broke the sky in the square and gave it to the birds like crumbs.
Then he cut it into pieces and threw it to the beggar.
Crazy people, blind people and their families.
But I got an ending, * * * was thrown to the ground like a cup.
Lying on your back like a wounded soldier,
As a harem wife
Hide her eyes behind the black veil.
The plain is full of houses, and everyone
Below it, age is like a bound slave;
Save his face with high cheekbones.
My nervous voice began to reject my free part.
But I kept silent and the sky was full of lead.
On Simple English Poetry (4)
skylab
Rolf Jacobson
Translated by Roger greenwald
"We have stopped here," thought the astronaut.
When he swam around the capsule in the third week
Accidentally kicked a god in the eye.
-so far
There is no longer a difference between up and down,
North and south, light and heavy.
So, how can we know justice?
So far.
Weightlessness, in a sealed room
We chase the sunrise at high speed.
Get sick from longing for green stems
Or the weight of things in our hands. Lift a stone.
One night, he saw the earth as an open eye.
Look at him as seriously as a child's eyes
Wake up in the middle of the night
Chapter 5 of Simple English Poetry
skew ray
Arthur Shi
Oblique light is projected on the plaster wall.
The shadow of a bent plum branch.
I can see the branches getting thinner and thinner.
I have to filter what you say, what she thinks,
What he believes in is the power of genes. What?
They agreed that it was inevitable. I have to screen this.
Looking at myself in a strange and intense static form,
Even if I see lying on the table waiting to die
All kinds of pomegranate and gourd.
And what if death eats a few pomegranate seeds?
Can it guarantee several years of spring?
I see a gourd, which is yellow from the middle to the top.
Here is the green zucchini, but
The big orange gourd has been gnawed black.
I don't know why that man survived the killing night.
I have to think about what you said, how I feel,
You want it, I know it. I have to screen
Death is like bare light screening the branches of plums.