Subject: ~{J+Qt~} Two light verses ~{6LJ+6~JW~}

From: Yang Wu - Sun Shine <[email-masked]>
Date: Wed, 27 Jul 1994 12:45:02 -0700

Apparently-To: [email-masked]

Two light verses

         ＊  ＊  ＊

    也曾如叶落地而眠

  什么  也别想  就这样
  落作窗边  楚楚  叶子

  夜  忽然让一只  黑色灵犬
  叼走  轻轻  又从容

  不知何时  朝阳  涨过层帘
  画进  梦框
  绘出点点  无声  分明

  我  扶着空气  浮起
  望见  你远远  蓝天
  和  自己  密细的  坚韧脉胳

         ＊  ＊  ＊

    上班又迟到

  冲进  七片海  一个岛
  一辆  野车  六股  宽道

  疯狂  滚石乐  掀飞  一阵  蓦然癫笑
  敞棚后座  疾风  一次次松开  一条  领带

  阳光  远远  眯起  视野
  阡陌似网  静旷  丝丝如烟

  近午的  一辆  飞驰野车
  桔红领带  疾风中  节奏地  拍敲

  What a feeling!   What a fun!

  Oh,   Baby!   heart is hard   to be found!
  Nobody   would say good morning,   at this time!

     阳 1994.7.27  于 Oregon

"Sun Shine"

Yang Wu  吴 阳
  Tel: (503) 685 1057  Email: [email-masked]  [email-masked]
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---

From: "Z. Zhang ~{VqHK~}" <[email-masked]>
Date: Wed, 27 Jul 1994 16:53:16 CDT

> Two light verses
....
>   Nobody   would say good morning,   at this time!

Allright, here is how an American poet may look at the thing.
Dated back 6 yrs ago, are things changing too dynamically?

        "Motion Which Disestablishes Organizes Everything"

                -- A.R.Ammons, from <The Best American Poetry 1988>

        ........
        ..................................: brightness,
          however

        desirable, is a losing battle, though, and James knew it can
          be depended on
        more often than not that folks won't have spare
          brightnesses on them every

        morning that they want your heaviness to cost them: so, in
          general, if
        someone asks how you are, no matter how you are, say
          something nice: say,

        "fine," or "marvelous morning", and, this way, hell
          gradually notches up
        towards paradise, a misconstruction many conspire to
          forward because

        nearly all, maybe all, prefer one to the other: oppositions
          make things costly
        ...........

        ...........
        be bright: that is a wish that can be stable: you can always
          think of
        happiness because it's wished right out of any rubbings
          with reality, so

        you can keep the picture pure and steady: I always imagine
          a hillock,
        about as much as I can get up these days, with a lovely
          shade tree and under

        the tree this beautiful girl, unnervingly young, who
          projects golden
        worlds: this scene attracts me so much that even though
          I'm a little

        scared by it it feels enlivening, a rosy, sweet enlivening:
          poets
        can always prevent our hubris, reminding us how the
          coffin slats peel

        cloth and crack in, how the onset of time strikes at birth,
          how love falters,
        how past the past is, how the eyes of hungry children feed
          the flies.

----

Comment:

The first time I came across this poem I was very much stunned.

Though the technique is very much alien to me even today, the underlying
simple but extremely strong philosophy is all the same familiar to
all mankind.

Here is the deal: you know there is no eternity ("how past the past is")
by the power of death ("coffin slats peel cloth and crack in"); There are
ongoing stream of life ("how the onset of time strikes at birth"), but
you may never sure of love ("how love falters"), and the reality can be
more cruel than you WANT to imagine ("how the eyes of hungry children feed
the flies").

Philosophically speaking, where is the problem? The answer comes from:
"oppositions make things costly". Yet this gives the strength, motivates
whoever knows the fact to search for the "unnervingly young" beauty and
goodness. Therefore:

        "in general, if someone asks how you are, no matter how you are, say
          something nice: say,

                "fine," or "marvelous morning"

-bamboo