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足瘾
这双脚。
走过了45个春秋,它辗转中原,漂洋过海,酸甜苦痛,五味杂陈,十个指头历历在目;
今晚,在这里,对,就在这里,在澳洲这片空旷多余的土地上,我给它过45岁生日;
我让澳洲的空气洗它;我让公园里浓重的青草味熏它;我让晚间积聚的露水醉它;我叫高傲无私的月亮吻它;我让澳洲的乌鸦,麻雀和伟大的蟋蟀为它歌唱;
但是我还要等,不耐心的等,呕心沥血的等,无奈绝望的等,撕心裂肺的等,等到澳洲的雷公为之恸哭,落下滂沱大雨好好地泡它;
从低贱卑微,到此刻的高高在上,让整个澳洲为之轻狂,过把足瘾,死可瞑目。
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The feet, it is of mine.
It has lived through 45 years. It has labored and staggered across a land of coarseness. It has travelled and drifted over oceans. It has found bitter-sweetness, ache and pain, scents and odors, of which the ten toes have all the reminiscences.
Tonight, here, oh, yes, right here, on the excessive soil of vast Australia, I cerebrate its 45 birthday.
Let decent Australian air wash it; Let the thick grassy fragrance simmer it; let the priceless dew of night intoxicate it; let the glorious and gracious moon kiss it; let the black raven, sparrows, larks, and the great crickets all come to sing for it.
But still I am to wait, wait with my impatience, wait with my despairing and crying spirit, wait by a heart full of riddles, till the Australian heaven is moved to whimper and thunder, till it downpours merry teardrops to bath it.
From base and low, to this high and crown, let entire Australia well spoil it, once for all its indulgence, let it die and close its eyes, for not a being as slight.
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