2004-09-03 16:05:00無非
【貼文：Lyotard】死亡三部曲之三：In The Midst of Dead
【前言】無非
＊以我的年紀而言，這大概是最後一次旅行了。
聽說-----
燕子將旅行五百年後
完成累世萬劫
成就了九千九百九十九件善行
轉換磁場穿戴的具相
在多向度時空間中存在
無視於中陰眾的援引
剎那 巨響
粉碎後的我和雕在嘴間的你
融合成一體
「我從來沒有旅行過。」
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
轉貼「玫瑰的名字」中我很喜歡的一篇文作
台長Lyotard ，我還沒來得及告知他，我曾經在留言版上鄭重的介紹過「玫瑰的名字」，如果你也喜歡他的文字，請至「玫瑰的名字2.0版」有更多的作品會讓你驚艷
「玫瑰的名字2.0版」 作者： 李歐塔
http://mypaper.pchome.com.tw/news/lyotard/
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
【轉貼原文】
新聞台: 玫瑰的名字2.0版
作 者: 李歐塔 Lyotard
＊以我的年紀而言，這大概是最後一次旅行了。
從昨夜我就一直在想你。黑夜航曳，其實並不適合一隻燕子。風太冷了，海太靜了，好像所有寶石灑在黑色水晶上，那是天空。你可能猜的到，我是故意的。在你面前，我好想撒嬌。
因為好奇心，因為止不住的戀棧。我好奇著，你怎會願意要我啄下你右眼的綠翡翠，好幫助下村的老婦人，因為失明的她，縫紉時針刺滿繭的殘度餘生。唉！其實我早就知道答案，我懷念的其實是我的眼淚，我對你善良的不忍，世人憂患實多於吾翼羽黝黑地心煩意亂，但難想的到靈魂澄靜如你，挖空的雙眼，卻都將我的心抽空。
「不要哭了，小燕子，今夜的風冷，大地已有薄霜，請讓我的雙手為你取暖。對不起，讓你擔心了。對了，我的朋友，說說你飛翔天際之事，長夜漫漫，有你作伴真好…..。」
我的朋友，如你是快樂王子，而我則是海風之子，我的生活就是摩擦、拔高、低迴和滑翔。但漫漫長夜其實誰也不好過，風太冷了，海太靜了，好像所有的寶石碧珠，灑在黑色的水晶上，而那是你溫柔的雙眸。因為好奇心，因為止不住的戀棧，我好奇是否你還在眷顧我，我戀棧著殘風殘雪的那晚你漸漸冰冷的身體。而這也是如斯冷夜飛行的原因。
＊以我的年紀而言，這大概是最後一次旅行了。
薄霧從見陸後便朝陽蒸退，人們離開夢之帷幕，都市也隨之運轉如你死去 的那日朝晨。市長和市民發現光鮮亮麗的你，寶劍烏木，華篷瑟衣。「最噁心的是雙眼，空洞洞的，卻又好像在批判什麼的瞪視，真說不出來的詭異。」腦滿腸肥的市長如花俏的男高音叫嚷著。
「批判！」
快樂王子---你是不會批判什麼的。你只會讓自己變醜，好幫助可憐的人們，你是善良的傻子。傻的宛如天使。你死後他們將你敲成碎片，你駐足的公園代之是一座比天高的大樓。而我則拾起僅存的瓦礫將他們分送世界各地。
「我從來沒有旅行過。」
我還記得你落寞的音容，如今你的身體，已種在耶路撒冷的哭牆下，萬里長城的嘉裕關、莫高窟、普羅旺斯葡萄園、劍橋河畔，都是些好地方。而現在，最後且唯一的身體，還銜在我嘴上。
＊以我的年紀而言，這大概是最後一次旅行了。
自由女神像，看起來驕傲又冷靜，像你一樣。不過，我懂，外表欺人，你其實謙卑而熱情，是幸還是不幸，對燕子而言是太難的問題。這大樓真高，山窗市窗寂寂汲汲，我的身影化為千萬個故事。我的朋友，曾有詩人說「瓦礫堆堆成大樓，大樓片片成瓦礫」飛翔其中，我………..。
「你知道嗎？當飛機衝向我時，我還在想你。」
【附錄:The Happy Prince】
IGH above the city, on a tall column, stood the statue of the Happy Prince. He was gilded all over with thin leaves of fine gold, for eyes he had two bright sapphires, and a large red ruby glowed on his sword-hilt.
He was very much admired indeed. ”He is as beautiful as a weathercock,” remarked one of the Town Councillors who wished to gain a reputation for having artistic tastes; ”only not quite so useful,” he added, fearing lest people should think him unpractical, which he really was not.
”Why can’t you be like the Happy Prince?” asked a sensible mother of her little boy who was crying for the moon. ”The Happy Prince never dreams of crying for anything.”
”I am glad there is some one in the world who is quite happy,” muttered a disappointed man as he gazed at the wonderful statue.
”He looks just like an angel,” said the Charity Children as they came out of the cathedral in their bright scarlet cloaks and their clean white pinafores.
”How do you know?” said the Mathematical Master, ”you have never seen one.”
”Ah! but we have, in our dreams,” answered the children; and the Mathematical Master frowned and looked very severe, for he did not approve of children dreaming.
One night there flew over the city a little Swallow. His friends had gone away to Egypt six weeks before, but he had stayed behind, for he was in love with the most beautiful Reed. He had met her early in the spring as he was flying down the river after a big yellow moth, and had been so attracted by her slender waist that he had stopped to talk to her.
”Shall I love you?” said the Swallow, who liked to come to the point at once, and the Reed made him a low bow. So he flew round and round her, touching the water with his wings, and making silver ripples. This was his courtship, and it lasted all through the summer.
”It is a ridiculous attachment,” twittered the other Swallows; ”she has no money, and far too many relations”; and indeed the river was quite full of Reeds. Then, when the autumn came they all flew away.
After they had gone he felt lonely, and began to tire of his lady-love. ”She has no conversation,” he said, ”and I am afraid that she is a coquette, for she is always flirting with the wind.” And certainly, whenever the wind blew, the Reed made the most graceful curtseys. ”I admit that she is domestic,” he continued, ”but I love travelling, and my wife, consequently, should love travelling also.”
”Will you come away with me?” he said finally to her; but the Reed shook her head, she was so attached to her home.
”You have been trifling with me,” he cried. ”I am off to the Pyramids. Good-bye!” and he flew away.
All day long he flew, and at night-time he arrived at the city. ”Where shall I put up?” he said; ”I hope the town has made preparations.”
Then he saw the statue on the tall column.
”I will put up there,” he cried; ”it is a fine position, with plenty of fresh air.” So he alighted just between the feet of the Happy Prince.
”I have a golden bedroom,” he said softly to himself as he looked round, and he prepared to go to sleep; but just as he was putting his head under his wing a large drop of water fell on him. ”What a curious thing!” he cried; ”there is not a single cloud in the sky, the stars are quite clear and bright, and yet it is raining. The climate in the north of Europe is really dreadful. The Reed used to like the rain, but that was merely her selfishness.”
Then another drop fell.
”What is the use of a statue if it cannot keep the rain off?” he said; ”I must look for a good chimney-pot,” and he determined to fly away.
But before he had opened his wings, a third drop fell, and he looked up, and saw -Ah! what did he see?
The eyes of the Happy Prince were filled with tears, and tears were running down his golden cheeks. His face was so beautiful in the moonlight that the little Swallow was filled with pity.
”Who are you?” he said.
”I am the Happy Prince.”
”Why are you weeping then?” asked the Swallow; ”you have quite drenched me.”
”When I was alive and had a human heart,” answered the statue, ”I did not know what tears were, for I lived in the Palace of Sans-Souci, where sorrow is not allowed to enter. In the daytime I played with my companions in the garden, and in the evening I led the dance in the Great Hall. Round the garden ran a very lofty wall, but I never cared to ask what lay beyond it, everything about me was so beautiful. My courtiers called me the Happy Prince, and happy indeed I was, if pleasure be happiness. So I lived, and so I died. And now that I am dead they have set me up here so high that I can see all the ugliness and all the misery of my city, and though my heart is made of lead yet I cannot chose but weep.” .....《 全文請詳「玫瑰的名字2.0版」》
因為全文太長，已超過字限，想看完全文請至
明日報新聞台:
「玫瑰的名字2.0版」 台長： 李歐塔
http://mypaper.pchome.com.tw/news/lyotard/
＊以我的年紀而言，這大概是最後一次旅行了。
聽說-----
燕子將旅行五百年後
完成累世萬劫
成就了九千九百九十九件善行
轉換磁場穿戴的具相
在多向度時空間中存在
無視於中陰眾的援引
剎那 巨響
粉碎後的我和雕在嘴間的你
融合成一體
「我從來沒有旅行過。」
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
轉貼「玫瑰的名字」中我很喜歡的一篇文作
台長Lyotard ，我還沒來得及告知他，我曾經在留言版上鄭重的介紹過「玫瑰的名字」，如果你也喜歡他的文字，請至「玫瑰的名字2.0版」有更多的作品會讓你驚艷
「玫瑰的名字2.0版」 作者： 李歐塔
http://mypaper.pchome.com.tw/news/lyotard/
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
【轉貼原文】
新聞台: 玫瑰的名字2.0版
作 者: 李歐塔 Lyotard
＊以我的年紀而言，這大概是最後一次旅行了。
從昨夜我就一直在想你。黑夜航曳，其實並不適合一隻燕子。風太冷了，海太靜了，好像所有寶石灑在黑色水晶上，那是天空。你可能猜的到，我是故意的。在你面前，我好想撒嬌。
因為好奇心，因為止不住的戀棧。我好奇著，你怎會願意要我啄下你右眼的綠翡翠，好幫助下村的老婦人，因為失明的她，縫紉時針刺滿繭的殘度餘生。唉！其實我早就知道答案，我懷念的其實是我的眼淚，我對你善良的不忍，世人憂患實多於吾翼羽黝黑地心煩意亂，但難想的到靈魂澄靜如你，挖空的雙眼，卻都將我的心抽空。
「不要哭了，小燕子，今夜的風冷，大地已有薄霜，請讓我的雙手為你取暖。對不起，讓你擔心了。對了，我的朋友，說說你飛翔天際之事，長夜漫漫，有你作伴真好…..。」
我的朋友，如你是快樂王子，而我則是海風之子，我的生活就是摩擦、拔高、低迴和滑翔。但漫漫長夜其實誰也不好過，風太冷了，海太靜了，好像所有的寶石碧珠，灑在黑色的水晶上，而那是你溫柔的雙眸。因為好奇心，因為止不住的戀棧，我好奇是否你還在眷顧我，我戀棧著殘風殘雪的那晚你漸漸冰冷的身體。而這也是如斯冷夜飛行的原因。
＊以我的年紀而言，這大概是最後一次旅行了。
薄霧從見陸後便朝陽蒸退，人們離開夢之帷幕，都市也隨之運轉如你死去 的那日朝晨。市長和市民發現光鮮亮麗的你，寶劍烏木，華篷瑟衣。「最噁心的是雙眼，空洞洞的，卻又好像在批判什麼的瞪視，真說不出來的詭異。」腦滿腸肥的市長如花俏的男高音叫嚷著。
「批判！」
快樂王子---你是不會批判什麼的。你只會讓自己變醜，好幫助可憐的人們，你是善良的傻子。傻的宛如天使。你死後他們將你敲成碎片，你駐足的公園代之是一座比天高的大樓。而我則拾起僅存的瓦礫將他們分送世界各地。
「我從來沒有旅行過。」
我還記得你落寞的音容，如今你的身體，已種在耶路撒冷的哭牆下，萬里長城的嘉裕關、莫高窟、普羅旺斯葡萄園、劍橋河畔，都是些好地方。而現在，最後且唯一的身體，還銜在我嘴上。
＊以我的年紀而言，這大概是最後一次旅行了。
自由女神像，看起來驕傲又冷靜，像你一樣。不過，我懂，外表欺人，你其實謙卑而熱情，是幸還是不幸，對燕子而言是太難的問題。這大樓真高，山窗市窗寂寂汲汲，我的身影化為千萬個故事。我的朋友，曾有詩人說「瓦礫堆堆成大樓，大樓片片成瓦礫」飛翔其中，我………..。
「你知道嗎？當飛機衝向我時，我還在想你。」
【附錄:The Happy Prince】
IGH above the city, on a tall column, stood the statue of the Happy Prince. He was gilded all over with thin leaves of fine gold, for eyes he had two bright sapphires, and a large red ruby glowed on his sword-hilt.
He was very much admired indeed. ”He is as beautiful as a weathercock,” remarked one of the Town Councillors who wished to gain a reputation for having artistic tastes; ”only not quite so useful,” he added, fearing lest people should think him unpractical, which he really was not.
”Why can’t you be like the Happy Prince?” asked a sensible mother of her little boy who was crying for the moon. ”The Happy Prince never dreams of crying for anything.”
”I am glad there is some one in the world who is quite happy,” muttered a disappointed man as he gazed at the wonderful statue.
”He looks just like an angel,” said the Charity Children as they came out of the cathedral in their bright scarlet cloaks and their clean white pinafores.
”How do you know?” said the Mathematical Master, ”you have never seen one.”
”Ah! but we have, in our dreams,” answered the children; and the Mathematical Master frowned and looked very severe, for he did not approve of children dreaming.
One night there flew over the city a little Swallow. His friends had gone away to Egypt six weeks before, but he had stayed behind, for he was in love with the most beautiful Reed. He had met her early in the spring as he was flying down the river after a big yellow moth, and had been so attracted by her slender waist that he had stopped to talk to her.
”Shall I love you?” said the Swallow, who liked to come to the point at once, and the Reed made him a low bow. So he flew round and round her, touching the water with his wings, and making silver ripples. This was his courtship, and it lasted all through the summer.
”It is a ridiculous attachment,” twittered the other Swallows; ”she has no money, and far too many relations”; and indeed the river was quite full of Reeds. Then, when the autumn came they all flew away.
After they had gone he felt lonely, and began to tire of his lady-love. ”She has no conversation,” he said, ”and I am afraid that she is a coquette, for she is always flirting with the wind.” And certainly, whenever the wind blew, the Reed made the most graceful curtseys. ”I admit that she is domestic,” he continued, ”but I love travelling, and my wife, consequently, should love travelling also.”
”Will you come away with me?” he said finally to her; but the Reed shook her head, she was so attached to her home.
”You have been trifling with me,” he cried. ”I am off to the Pyramids. Good-bye!” and he flew away.
All day long he flew, and at night-time he arrived at the city. ”Where shall I put up?” he said; ”I hope the town has made preparations.”
Then he saw the statue on the tall column.
”I will put up there,” he cried; ”it is a fine position, with plenty of fresh air.” So he alighted just between the feet of the Happy Prince.
”I have a golden bedroom,” he said softly to himself as he looked round, and he prepared to go to sleep; but just as he was putting his head under his wing a large drop of water fell on him. ”What a curious thing!” he cried; ”there is not a single cloud in the sky, the stars are quite clear and bright, and yet it is raining. The climate in the north of Europe is really dreadful. The Reed used to like the rain, but that was merely her selfishness.”
Then another drop fell.
”What is the use of a statue if it cannot keep the rain off?” he said; ”I must look for a good chimney-pot,” and he determined to fly away.
But before he had opened his wings, a third drop fell, and he looked up, and saw -Ah! what did he see?
The eyes of the Happy Prince were filled with tears, and tears were running down his golden cheeks. His face was so beautiful in the moonlight that the little Swallow was filled with pity.
”Who are you?” he said.
”I am the Happy Prince.”
”Why are you weeping then?” asked the Swallow; ”you have quite drenched me.”
”When I was alive and had a human heart,” answered the statue, ”I did not know what tears were, for I lived in the Palace of Sans-Souci, where sorrow is not allowed to enter. In the daytime I played with my companions in the garden, and in the evening I led the dance in the Great Hall. Round the garden ran a very lofty wall, but I never cared to ask what lay beyond it, everything about me was so beautiful. My courtiers called me the Happy Prince, and happy indeed I was, if pleasure be happiness. So I lived, and so I died. And now that I am dead they have set me up here so high that I can see all the ugliness and all the misery of my city, and though my heart is made of lead yet I cannot chose but weep.” .....《 全文請詳「玫瑰的名字2.0版」》
因為全文太長，已超過字限，想看完全文請至
明日報新聞台:
「玫瑰的名字2.0版」 台長： 李歐塔
http://mypaper.pchome.com.tw/news/lyotard/