爱好研究1789-1794之间的法国死人,还有1800-1945之间的欧亚大陆上各大文明的死人。

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The Gloom

The gloom
Spreading
Stirring
Winding.
The gloom
Expanding
Toward the boundaries of the sky.
It has been raining for days.
My love, I walk under my purple umbrella
I see through the screen of mists;
I see lights, people, movements.
But I am constrained in these
Uncomfortable costumes.
Black raincoat
My bag dragging my right shoulder lower than my left.
Constraints; imprisonment; bodies; voices.

March is the prelude
Of the cruellest month.
The earth rumbles
Emerald grass and tiny flowers break out.
The rain and the rain and the rain
The spring fever.
I have not seen the ground dry for days.
Showers
Suddenly
A storm
In the cup of Persephone.
Gloom
The English fever
The green isle
This weather of yours
Is as subtle as the temper of your fine children
Whose character, however distorted,
Could never be rid of that mystery.

Not yet thunder,
Only gloom.
I wait for the thunder
To break this funeral atmosphere.
I wait for the arrival of Jupiter
As the herald of summer.
Sweet summertime!
How I wish I could stay!
How I wish I could
Go to Trafalgar Square in summertime
And find refuge under the imposing shade of National Gallery
Taking a stroll alongsides the offsprings of Hippies and Punks.

Gloom
The prelude
The buried corpses would soon flower.
Us, the living, wander and pace the cool churchyard
Dark slates with ancient names under our feet
And grassroots, and graves, and foundation.

We are waiting to mix memory and desire.

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