Here's to pablo neruda.
Let the goddess of navigation
Guard your home.
She faces the sea.
Look up to heaven
Touch your hands and chest.
Pray for safe navigation.
one
You love the sea, and I love the sea.
We will sail on the sea forever.
One day, a ship sank.
You got your life-saving ring back.
It seems that I have found hope again.
The wind and waves send you to the seaside.
You look like a coastal defense soldier.
Guard these reefs
You broke down.
Untie the cable
Recall the road you have traveled.
Look at the sea every day
two
Pablo's home
On the cape
outside the window
It is the vast Pacific Ocean.
Strange house
All made of rocks.
Like a little bunker.
Imprisoned samurai
We walked into
Sailor's home
The ground is covered with conchs.
Maybe there was a tide last night.
It's not complete.
Woodcarving goddess
Standing by the door of the living room
As pious as a maid
The attic is the deck.
The railings are connected with hemp rope.
On one side of the escalator
There is a big turntable.
These are your properties:
A model of an ancient sailboat.
Brown iron anchor
China's big compass
(the earliest compass)
A big globe
All kinds of pipes
And all kinds of steel knives.
An Italian farmer's walking stick.
Put it where you walk in the door.
It is accompanied by genius.
Walked through the whole world
Beige ivory color
Engraved with young lovers
Dressed in country clothes
With a shy expression
Like all love stories,
It is both old and fresh.
The pistol has rusted.
The warship stopped turning.
Fill the wine, please
To peace!
three
The house is on the earth
The earth is in the house.
There is a white top hanging on the wall.
A sailor's hat painted with black paint.
It seems that the owner of this house
I just got home this morning.
I asked Pablo:
"Is it a sailor?
Or the general? "
He said, "Yes, General,
You too;
However, my boat
Has disappeared,
The sink ... "
four
You're the captain?
Or a sailor?
You're the fleet commander?
Or a sailor?
You're the one who came back victorious?
Or defeated the escaped prisoner?
Did you have a safe rest?
Or is it dangerous to run aground
Are you lost?
Or did you encounter a reef?
Neither, neither,
The owner of this house
It was a friend of Lorga who was shot.
Is a witness to the suffering of Spain.
Is a retired diplomat.
Not a general.
Looking at the sea day and night
Listening to Haitao seems to be sighing.
It's also like sarcasm
It's also like provocation.
Pablo Neruda
Facing the boundless waves
In the language brought from the mine
Declare war on the whole old world
five
It's above the living room door.
Hang the lifebuoy
The boat is on the shore.
You said, "If the ship sinks,
I put it on.
Jumped into the sea. "
Square street lamp
At the second door
In this way, every night.
You live on the street.
Flames rose in the fireplace.
Tonight, the sea is noisy.
Around the burning fireplace
From all over the world.
A dozen sailing partners
Drinking wine and talking about the story of sailing in the sea.
We come from many countries.
Including many ethnic groups
There are different languages.
But we are best brothers.
Someone stood up.
Use a magnifying glass
Look for it on the map.
Never been to a place.
Our world
It seems very big.
It's actually very small
In this world.
You should live well.
Tomorrow, if the weather is fine.
I want to bring a copper telescope.
Look west
The other side of the Pacific Ocean
This is my hometown.
I like this cape.
I also love my hometown.
The night is already deep here.
How charming the night in early spring is.
six
On the mahogany table.
There is a brass whistle for the captain.
Before dawn, if the whistle sounds,
All of us will climb onto the boat cable soon.
Set sail for the sea.
Sail to a port in another century. ...
First draft on the evening of July 24th, 1954
1956 65438+February 1 1 day finishing
Wild Goose River-My Nanny
Dayanhe is my nanny.
Her name is the name of the village where she was born
She is a child bride,
Dayanhe is my nanny.
I am the son of the landlord;
I also grew up eating milk from Dayan River.
Son of Dayanhe.
Dayan and I raised a family by raising me.
I grew up on your milk,
Dayanhe, my nanny.
Along the river, I saw snow today, which reminds me of you:
Your grave is covered with snow,
Your closed former residence, the dead Wafi on the roof,
The ten-square-foot garden you pawned,
The mossy stone chair in front of your door,
Along the river, I saw the snow today, which reminds me of you.
You hold me in your arms with your big palm and touch me;
After you set up the stove,
After you took the charcoal ash off your apron,
When you taste the cooked rice,
After you put the black sauce bowl on the black table,
After you mended your son's clothes cut by thorns on the hillside,
When you have bandaged the child's hand cut by the firewood knife,
After you strangled the lice on your husband's shirt one by one,
After you picked up your first egg today,
You hold me in your arms with your big palm and touch me.
I am the landlord's son,
After I ate all your milk in Dayan River,
I was taken home by my parents.
Ah, Dayanhe, why are you crying?
I'm a new guest at my parents' house!
I touched the furniture carved with red paint,
I touched the gold pattern on my parents' bed,
I looked blankly at the plaque on the eaves that I didn't know, "Family Fun".
I touched the silk and shell buttons of my new dress.
I looked at my mother's strange sister,
I sat on a kang stool with a brazier painted on it.
I ate milled rice three times,
However, I am so embarrassed! Because I
I became a new guest in my parents' house.
Dayan River, for living,
After she used up all the lotion,
She began to work with her arms hugging me;
She washed our clothes with a smile.
With a smile on her face, she went to the frozen pond near the village with a vegetable basket.
She smiled and cut the radish with ice.
With a smile on her face, she took out the spent grains eaten by pigs with her hands.
She smiled and fanned the fire in the saucepan.
Smiling, she came to the square with a dustpan.
Sun those soybeans and wheat,
Dayan River, for living,
After she used up all the lotion,
She just holds my arm and works.
Wild goose river, deeply in love with her baby;
During the Chinese New Year, I was busy cutting him the candy of that winter rice.
For him, he often goes to his home near her village quietly.
For him, go up to her and call "Mom".
Dayan River painted his bright red and green Guan Yunchang.
Stick it on the wall next to the stove,
Dayanhe will boast and praise his breasts to his neighbors;
Dayan and had a dream that can't be told:
In the dream, she ate her child's wedding wine,
Sitting in the magnificent celebration hall,
Her beautiful daughter-in-law affectionately calls her "mother-in-law"
…………
Dayanhe, love her baby!
Dayan and died before her dream woke up.
When she died, her breasts were not with her,
When she died, her husband, who usually beat and scolded her, also shed tears for her.
Five sons, all crying sadly,
When she died, she whispered the name of her child.
Dayanhe, dead,
When she died, her breasts were not with her.
Dayanhe, tears streaming down her face!
With the bullying of human life for more than forty years,
The misery of countless slaves,
With a four-dollar coffin and some straws,
There are only a few feet of land to bury the coffin,
With the ashes of a handful of paper money,
Wild goose river, she went away in tears.
This is big research and don't know:
Her drunken husband died,
The eldest son became a bandit,
The second one died in the smoke of gunfire,
Third, fourth and fifth times
And I, I'm writing a spell for this unfair world.
When I returned to my native land after a long wandering,
On the hillside, in the fields,
When the two brothers met, they were closer than they were six or seven years ago!
This, this is for you, quietly sleeping Dayan River.
What you don't know!
Dayanhe, your baby is in prison today.
Write a hymn for you,
Give you the purple soul under the loess,
Reach out to you and hug my hand,
Let you kiss my lips,
What is presented to you is a muddy and gentle face.
It's for you, because you lifted my breasts,
To your sons, my brothers,
To everything on earth,
My big weir nanny and their son,
Dedicated to Da Yanhe who loves me as his own son.
Dayanhe, I grew up eating your milk.
Your son
I respect you.
love you
I love this land.
If I were a bird,
I should also sing with a hoarse throat:
This land hit by the storm,
This river of sadness and anger will surge forever,
This endless wind,
And the gentle dawn from the forest ...
And then I died,
Even feathers rot in the ground.
Why do I always have tears in my eyes?
Because I love this land deeply. ...