chanpf

引用:

原帖由 栩栩 於 2009-6-1 07:43 PM 發表
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n_OBeonRBvk
抗戰二十年
作曲：黃家駒
填詞：黃偉文

喔　你我霎眼抗戰二十年　世界怎變　我答應你那一點　不會變

當天空手空臂我們就上街　沒甚麼聲勢浩大
但被不安養大　不足養大　哪 ...

家駒是我極小數喜歡的本地pop star. 他極有才華，他的死對樂壇是一大打擊！

chanpf

Very heavy rain last night, June 3.

The rain poured heavily and roared wildly
All through the night.
As a night cat, I know it well.
I like walking slowly in small rain, with my head lifted,
To enjoy its lovely soft touch;
Running and whirling wildly in heavy rain, with full  hands
To accept the big hug from the nature.
Thunder and lightnings are the twins
Always come along with the rain,
Almost got caught by them twice
And it is shaking experience.
You can never see how close you are
With nature,   and how sweet it is,
If you have never tortured yourself
In the rain.

(It's June 4, always a bad day, better be drunk.)
(This night cat has to begin its cat's walk now. Good night.)

chanpf

D-day

June 6, it’s D-day
Another day one cannot forget.
Ten Thousands by ten thousands
Young men lost their lives,
   Lost their families,
   Lost their loved ones.
War, it’s the art of killing,
The most you kill, the most the hero you are!
Broken families, broken minds,
Broken limbs, broken bodies,
Flesh and blood, these are
The nourishment this planet needs -
War, it’s a good supplier.
June 6, perhaps it’s too far away
In place and in time,
Nobody tell me,
They remember it.

[ 本帖最後由 chanpf 於 2009-6-6 10:13 AM 編輯 ]

chanpf

It's poor and old, the night cat.
I has a bad leg but it can still walk
Without using a stick.
In morale, it is filled with pride in the night,
Always walks with its head lifted,
and its tail raised tall and high.

Dignity and respect are the things it demands,
For which it matters more than anything in its life.
The cat hunter could be its only enemy,
It has a gun in its month and a dog's lace in its hand,
Teasing and humiliating in its extremity,
Dragging the poor old cat
To the bottom of the earth.
No time to grieve for being turned
Into the underground dirt.
The old cat, though old and weak,
Never gives away any chances
To return the hunter,
A big hit.

Poor old cat, the night cat,
It has a romance that last for a glimpse,
Vanished as soon as it came into its sight,
Night and night, how much it wants
To see its loved one again.

What a pity old thing ,
It thinks itself an artist too -
A musician, a poet, something of that sort.
But poor thing, does it ever know,
It has no talent or is gifted or anything similiar,
Never, ever could it be something of that sort.

It's a poor old cat - the night cat.

[ 本帖最後由 chanpf 於 2009-6-12 12:07 AM 編輯 ]

chanpf

A sad poem by Pablo Neruda. Also a link of this poem read in Spanish.
Neruda was born in Chile.He was awarded the Nobel Prize in Literature in 1971.
He shared the World Peace Prize with Paul Robeson and Pablo Picasso in 1950.

http://palabravirtual.com/index.php?ir=ver_voz.php&wid=806&t=Fábula%20de%20la%20sirena%20y%20los%20borrachos&p=Pablo%20Neruda&o=Pablo%20Neruda


Fable of the Mermaid and the Drunks
   

All those men were there inside,
when she came in totally naked.
They had been drinking: they began to spit.
Newly come from the river, she knew nothing.
She was a mermaid who had lost her way.
The insults flowed down her gleaming flesh.
Obscenities drowned her golden breasts.
Not knowing tears, she did not weep tears.
Not knowing clothes, she did not have clothes.
They blackened her with burnt corks and cigarette stubs,
and rolled around laughing on the tavern floor.
She did not speak because she had no speech.
Her eyes were the colour of distant love,
her twin arms were made of white topaz.
Her lips moved, silent, in a coral light,
and suddenly she went out by that door.
Entering the river she was cleaned,
shining like a white stone in the rain,
and without looking back she swam again
swam towards emptiness, swam towards death.


I try to re-arrange some of the words in the above poem. I hope it
sounds better. Your comments are most welcome.

All those men were there inside,
when she came in totally naked.
They had been drinking: they began to spit at her.
Just come from the river, she knew nothing.
She was a mermaid who had lost her way.
The insults flowed down her gleaming flesh.
Obscenities drowned her golden breasts.
Not knowing tears, she did not weep.
Not knowing clothes, she was not dressed.
They humiliated her with burnt corks and cigarette ends,
laughing and rolled her around the tavern floor.
She did not speak because she had no speech.
Her eyes were filled with colours of her distant love,
her twin arms were made of white topaz.
Her lips moved, silent, in a coral light,
and ultimately she went out by that door.
Entering the river she was cleaned,
shining like a white stone in the rain,
and without looking back she swam away,
swam towards emptiness, swam towards death.





[ 本帖最後由 chanpf 於 2009-6-14 01:47 AM 編輯 ]

chanpf

I am counting the day,
It is not Monday, Tuesday or Sunday,
It is not yesterday or today.
The bird is on my shoulder,
It will tell me the day, on the day.
When it comes, be calm, don’t be afraid,
Just be happy and go away,
There must be some place
nice to stay.

[ 本帖最後由 chanpf 於 2009-6-14 07:54 PM 編輯 ]

橄欖

同 Pablo Neruda 有關的一齣電影 --- 事先張揚求愛事件 ( The Postman )

http://www.liberal-forum.hk/view ... tra=page%3D1&page=3

chanpf

Vanilla in the Stars

by Agnes Lam

This poem received the Nosside International Poetry Prize (Special Mention) in 2008.

Nosside prize web site: http://www.nosside.com

When I was a child,
I used to gaze at the stars above

our garden of roses, jasmine and lingzhi by the sea,
wondering how far away they really were,
whether they were shining still at the source
by the time their light reached me …

I was told that everyone was born with a star
which glowed or dimmed with the fortunes of each.
I also heard people destined to be close
were at first fragments of the same star

and from birth went searching for each other.
Such parting, seeking, reuniting might take
three lifetimes with centuries in between.
I had thought all these were but myths …

Now decades later, I read about the life of stars,
how their cores burn for ten billion years,
how towards the end, just before oblivion,
they atomize into nebulae of fragile brilliance –

ultra violet, infra red, luminous white, neon green or blue,
astronomical butterflies of gaseous light
afloat in a last waltz choreographed by relativity,
scattering their heated ashes into the void of the universe …

Some of this cosmic dust falls onto our little earth
carrying hydrocarbon compounds, organic matter
able to mutate into plant and animal life,
a spectrum of elemental fragrances …

Perhaps on the dust emanating from one ancient star
were borne the first molecules of a pandan leaf,
a sprig of mint or basil, a vanilla pod, a vine tomato,
a morning frangipani, an evening rose, a lily of the night …

Perhaps our parents or grandparents or ancestors further back
strolling through a garden or a field had breathed in the scents
effusing from some of these plants born of the same star
and passed them on as DNA in the genes of which we were made …

Could that be why, on our early encounters, we already sensed
in each other a whiff of something familiar, why when we are near,
there is in the air some spark which seems to have always been there,
prompting us to connect our pasts, share our stories even as they evolve …

… till the day when we too burn away into dust
and the aromas of our essence dissipate
into the same kaleidoscope of ether light
to be drawn into solar space by astral winds …

… perhaps to make vanilla in a star to be
before the next lifetime of three?

chanpf

The old clock, it's gone, years ago,
Murdered.
The new clock, at Pier 7,
the grand grand son of the old stupid clock,
Is far too young.
It looks weak and helpless, glassy and fragile,
Can be broken in any moment.
Its does not have its grandpa's old voice,
Oh, so thick, so solemn.
Grandpa, I salute.
Do Mi Re Sol
Do Re Me Do
Mi Do Re Sol
Sol Re Me Do
Don, Don, Don, Don‧‧‧
It's 6 o'clock,
I will be seeing Jennifer in an hour,
Great!

(note: the old clock means the old clock at the old Star Ferry Pier)

[ 本帖最後由 chanpf 於 2009-7-22 05:43 PM 編輯 ]

chanpf

I keep on running away,
There are always some place to hide and stay.
This time at the seafront, on a roof top.
The sun is not too close to the horizon,
It has lost all its glory because of the misty sky.
The distant objects are not distinct , mirage-like.
Light breezes are pushing the evening away.
I can feel touches of the cool air and kisses from the sky.
The night is falling fast, the setting sun
Is sinking and swallowed by the drunken sea.
The stars are coming up alone, naked and bare,
Without the nestling of the sexy moon.
Dont forget to check your star, is it still
Bright and glowing?  Though it is very misty
To-night.

chanpf

I am burning my life in the night,
I have to fight against the time.
In day light I am a horse,
In night I become an artman.
Running in the night, single, oh, it's cool,
The air always chills me,  the quietness
Always shouts at me. Yet, I must go on,
Or else, how can I manage all those silly things
Inside me.

chanpf

國金一柱擎天,
把天空這老處女
一下子弄翻了。
穿窿大廈傷痕累累，
幾十年來一直淌著血。
溫莎與愛丁堡當年的
風采已不再。
嬌小的渣打總行，
生存在巨無霸中，
沒有半點懼色。
匯豐是巡航母艦，
那些巨炮全方向對著
吉列刀片般的中銀，
戰意甚濃。
長江大廈小弟弟,
捲縮在花園道腳下。
那座威爾斯親王軍機大樓，
駐守的早已不是外國人，
你高興吧！

[ 本帖最後由 chanpf 於 2009-6-27 04:59 PM 編輯 ]

chanpf

They have accompanied him to the Kubrick
Before the gathering.
They have come again,
Waiting outside anxiously
For him, he is in the Kubrick
Chatting with his new friends.
They seemed not too happy
and might  leave him in any moment.

He came out evrentually to meet them,
Along with his new friends, who
do take precautions against them:
holding guns in their hands and
putting on their protecting gears.

Berfore a group of new friends,
he was a bit shy and hesitate
to spring himself into their arms
as he used to be.
They blew him a big kiss
and send him a big hug,
Humming and whispering at his ears.
He lifted his head to receive their tender touch
on his face and his hair.
They were gentle and mild, and he was
Wetted totally through from head to toes.
He asked them
how were the brothers and sisters,
Them, Some were hard and tough,
           Some were rude and harsh,
Always get along with Thunders and Lightnings
Playing naughty tricks all the way.
They said: Thunders are the songs and
Lightnings are the rhythm.
We are all children of Nature, and
Sing the same song.
Please come inover, come over
To know and join them,
But please,
Do not arm.




[ 本帖最後由 chanpf 於 2009-7-27 11:20 PM 編輯 ]

chanpf

I used to be very patriotic,
But not now.
I used to love my country very much,
But not now.

But
      for the places,
      for the people,
      for the culture,
Of
     this Universe,
I am still deeply in love.
And, it is forever
and now.

[ 本帖最後由 chanpf 於 2009-6-30 11:35 PM 編輯 ]

chanpf

Bring your own bags, bring your own plastic bags.
Let the boss of the supermart earn more,
And you pay the bills of the plastic bags.

Bring your own bags, bring your own plastic bags.
So that you have no more bags for gabbage,
You got to buy your own plastic bags.

Plastic bags company can still survive,
the customers have just changed from the boss
of the supermart to you, you and you.

Don't forget to bring your own plastic bags.
You will save your 50 cents and the boss
Of the supermart will save his 0.5 cent, on plastic bags,

[ 本帖最後由 chanpf 於 2009-7-1 03:33 PM 編輯 ]

chanpf

At the slipway of a motor highway,
Grow a little tree, from a concrete crack.
One foot tall, standing up firm and straight,
All by itself, brave and confident.

Cars, big and small, rolling passing by,
It bends for every car as if to say hello,
Though dirt and dust hit its face and  body.
Who has brought you here, a bird, a litterbug?
In a place like this you are to stay and grow,
You have no future because it is fixed and known
When you become too big and tall, causing
Danger to drivers, you will  be moved away.
Oh, little tree, you have no right to choose or say.

[ 本帖最後由 chanpf 於 2009-7-11 05:47 PM 編輯 ]

chanpf

又碰到老朋友。

下雨了，有點冷，
雨水斜斜打到頭上、
臉上，心頭很溫暖。

上了天星，找了近欄柵的座位，
迎著輕柔的雨點，清洗清洗靈魂。

雨開始大了一點，
船員把防風膠簾拉上，
大家因此被分隔開，
船員太盡責了。

另一邊欄柵空蕩蕩的，
急步跑過去，坐下來迎著
絲絲細雨，輕輕漂到臉頰上，
互道別來景況。

雨濛濛，天濛濛，海也濛濛，
人生到此也朦朦朧朧。

此情此景，現在還可以遇上，
明天，不敢想像。

[ 本帖最後由 chanpf 於 2009-9-6 12:15 AM 編輯 ]

chanpf

老地方，
變了不少，
簡單的節奏，
樸素的生活
感覺仍存在。

豬紅，米王，炸兩，
加點辣漿。

牆上掛的電視，
高清平面闊角，
當年的麗的影聲是巨無霸，
尹秋水，梁醒波
寵物小精靈，一休和尚，
已經跑進時間隧道。
米高積信，馬歌芳亭，
也是歷史故事。

下一站是尖沙咀，
下一站是天堂，
下一站是地獄。

(12.07.2009.1250 hrs)

[ 本帖最後由 chanpf 於 2009-10-4 11:10 AM 編輯 ]

chanpf

眼睛是喜歡美麗的‧‧‧
她有美麗的雙腿，
她有美麗的乳房。
她穿迷理裙，
她穿低胸衣。
眼睛是喜歡美麗的‧‧‧
怎能不看？
看多了，不高興，
不看，更加不高興。
怎麼？，
眼睛是喜歡美麗的‧‧‧

[ 本帖最後由 chanpf 於 2009-7-12 01:39 PM 編輯 ]

chanpf

市中心 天橋縱橫
鴨利洲 大廈沖上天
淺水的河道，
被馬路吞噬不少。
街渡碼頭變成
觀光遊船碼頭。
問船夫 可會去模達灣
在那兒？
南丫島之北邊，
水道不熟 去不了。

[ 本帖最後由 chanpf 於 2009-7-12 11:17 PM 編輯 ]