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本帖最后由 annahw 于 2019-9-26 13:51 编辑
有一本诗集,叫Where the Sidewalk Ends。 famouspoetsandpoems.com中说,作者是Shel Silverstein A truly unique and multi-faceted artist。他本是多面手:画卡通,写歌,continued to create plays, songs, poems, stories, and drawings, and most importantly,但最著名的却数童书了。 The Giving Tree, Falling Up, and A Light in the Attic。真是开启了无数人的心门。
Where the Sidewalk Ends是他的第一本诗集。这本诗集经典,也得过Grammy Award for Best Children’s Album。
诗集的名称来源诗:
Where the Sidewalk Ends 人行道的尽头
There is a place where the sidewalk ends
And before the street begins,
And there the grass grows soft and white,
And there the sun burns crimson bright,
And there the moon-bird rests from his flight
To cool in the peppermint wind.
那里没有街道,
那里青草柔软洁净,
那里阳光灿烂明丽,
那里月亮鸟安静地栖息
沐浴着薄荷味的风。
Let us leave this place where the smoke blows black
And the dark street winds and bends.
Past the pits where the asphalt flowers grow
We shall walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
And watch where the chalk-white arrows go
To the place where the sidewalk ends.
让我们远离这黑烟弥漫
街道弯曲阴暗的地方。
越过长满沥青花的坑坑洼洼
以从容悠闲的步调,
顺着白粉笔画的箭头
到那人行道的尽头。
Yes we'll walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
And we'll go where the chalk-white arrows go,
For the children, they mark, and the children, they know
The place where the sidewalk ends.
是的,我们将以从容悠闲的步调,
顺着白粉笔画的箭头,
孩子们,那是你们的白箭头,孩子们,你们知道
那人行道的尽头。
但这首诗,对我个人而言,不是特别喜欢的,小女对我的评价是“funny and childish”. 也许这就是我喜欢下面这首诗的原因吧。
INVITATION
If you are a dreamer, come in.
If you are a dreamer, a wisher, a liar,
A hope-er, a pray-er, a magic bean buyer...
If you're a pretender, come sit by my fire
For we have some flax-golden tales to spin.
Come in!
Come in!
不只是tales的invatation,更是一种生活方式的invatation。
而喜欢下面这首rain却因有段脑子进雨的经历 , 却因小时不识月呼做白玉盘时,去雨中观察小草生长而感冒。
RAIN
I opened my eyes
And looked up at the rain.
And it dripped in my head
And flowed into my brain.
And all that I hear as I lie in my bed
Is the slishity-slosh of the rain in my head.
I step very softly,
I walk very slow,
I can’t do a handstand-
I might overflow.
So pardon the wild crazy thing I just said-
I’m just not the same since there’s rain in my head.
俩盒子兄弟也真是友谊远处不在的象征。走吧,让我们hand in hand, 一起去犯蠢吧。
TWO BOXES
Two boxes met upon the road.
Said one unto the other,
“If you’re a box,
“If you’re a box,
And I’m a box.
Then you must be my brother.
Our sides are thin.
We’re cavin’ in.
And we must get no thinner.”
And so two boxes, hand in hand.
Went home to have their dinner.
他的诗,让你莞尔,使你哈哈。
不禁记得,有一小娃,呲牙咧嘴愁眉苦脸地指着自己的一颗大门牙,“啊啊,好痛啊,这颗牙还连在这里,连一点点肉,好痛。” 你莞尔,“霍,这小牙有多爱你呀,新牙在后面上她走,她还扒在上面赖着不想走,这是在荡秋千吗?” 瞬间小娃哈哈笑着,自编了一个掉小牙的故事,忘记了疼痛走得了幼儿园大门。
大概每个人心中都有一个儿童,都有一块行道尽头之暖吧?它们如此诗如动画,它们时清凉时温暖,如同小时妈妈觉前读书时那一盏灯……
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