艾伦金斯堡(Allen Ginsberg)诗两首
* E7 t6 e" K4 ]$ G, iAmerica6 n. u& [6 ]5 v* N) B
; k0 z8 c0 o& P
America I've given you all and now I'm nothing. , g& u. S5 O7 b# R) k
America two dollars and twentyseven cents January 0 j1 T! V2 O2 d0 C- y
17, 1956.
0 P( c5 F( {0 o' B$ NI can't stand my own mind. , b" {7 J# a3 w9 n) P/ t
America when will we end the human war?
7 Z% A8 @/ R8 y: `# K+ ~Go fuck yourself with your atom bomb.
* g, m1 w z# s/ Y, `. z8 u& RI don't feel good don't bother me. - Z1 k# U( D8 R; G' c/ |! I! K, h
I won't write my poem till I'm in my right mind.
- j! _) I' L) B7 R1 M7 |, pAmerica when will you be angelic?
! |, v$ v3 w5 z5 X0 wWhen will you take off your clothes?
2 |+ |! [* a# m- w+ J- {% n. @When will you look at yourself through the grave?
0 `) c9 R8 g4 n+ |) J) Y5 @When will you be worthy of your million Trotskyites?
2 Q0 v* g2 D9 F6 @; S9 {: ]America why are your libraries full of tears?
+ E M8 }1 Y7 R, O3 {0 RAmerica when will you send your eggs to India?
6 G* Z( e1 h8 r: a( Q6 OI'm sick of your insane demands. 2 S7 [7 y: W/ A, }) e; g. L ]
When can I go into the supermarket and buy what I
1 m" `( Y, e7 I" qneed with my good looks? - P, G! y) l2 C, p2 ?: P4 R- M
America after all it is you and I who are perfect not
7 [5 n y6 H$ Q+ F# lthe next world. \- k0 P0 J! h" d4 Y \ I+ u
Your machinery is too much for me. # y- A1 X5 s5 s3 P! R7 S
You made me want to be a saint.
) v3 b5 u! c5 h/ G4 ?- FThere must be some other way to settle this argument. . C# p: @5 f4 X
Burroughs is in Tangiers I don't think he'll come back
/ B, T" t% Q! Z, L3 iit's sinister. # A* g5 S1 W3 N# Y- `; Y! m( e$ h
Are you being sinister or is this some form of practical 1 N/ G; L! M8 Y8 S8 r, V9 i
joke?
! c8 d# I: b7 D3 X6 }I'm trying to come to the point. " O* v1 X* @& f. g* Y7 L
I refuse to give up my obsession.
, j! J5 s, g: I* R# T6 ?1 ?9 v: kAmerica stop pushing I know what I'm doing.
3 I" ?; A1 b4 B2 T' YAmerica the plum blossoms are falling.
2 H$ `+ Y& \; H' u+ L4 o! @& ?I haven't read the newspapers for months, everyday * S9 ~- t; V- _3 }/ L
somebody goes on trial for murder. ' A! x5 ?/ u9 ^+ W) V
America I feel sentimental about the Wobblies. , R Q. J8 u3 z+ W% g
America I used to be a communist when I was a kid 6 Z/ l0 D, f9 u( \; ^" a1 P
I'm not sorry. 0 Q' X3 q; X6 B% b- K( e% N& j
I smoke marijuana every chance I get.
' m$ A/ V% {2 S2 \2 v: c# GI sit in my house for days on end and stare at the roses
( c) u# T/ p* j+ ]) F& ?7 `0 F: Min the closet. . w% G! P* R( K+ c% e
When I go to Chinatown I get drunk and never get laid. 0 U4 E+ |( c4 l1 d
My mind is made up there's going to be trouble.
6 f9 }- Q! I) l/ B g, w w7 ]You should have seen me reading Marx.
& i/ q) t2 Z. u6 k$ r8 DMy psychoanalyst thinks I'm perfectly right.
; j& L6 }- o8 m9 k8 N( q+ i- s: hI won't say the Lord's Prayer. 2 v5 z% H8 K- b' X# t
I have mystical visions and cosmic vibrations.
% X, x- F" @ Z$ q- c* yAmerica I still haven't told you what you did to Uncle
% G5 ^) j$ _4 w0 F0 h" w& ^Max after he came over from Russia.
' k# G- H4 I O; f; i$ B' T: X' p7 S, A, _4 t! |
I'm addressing you.
?$ \! e1 M6 p6 C" I* d* _Are you going to let your emotional life be run by
. Z% s' Y1 b: G: [Time Magazine? & b+ l8 A" Y# q- F
I'm obsessed by Time Magazine. 9 ^8 c) @( g4 H- T
I read it every week. ! n) p5 x" a/ f) E7 ?9 Z h) l7 i
Its cover stares at me every time I slink past the corner 3 L" n5 V% f8 I9 J! ~; K
candystore.
/ w: A$ J; I" sI read it in the basement of the Berkeley Public Library.
2 n* d, b, v' I0 d$ d9 P) {0 sIt's always telling me about responsibility. Business- " o' X2 G7 N) I4 H# }
men are serious. Movie producers are serious.
- _6 m8 U; u4 x! z! k/ B$ BEverybody's serious but me.
9 d# ^, ~. G. _6 t9 g6 q! z& hIt occurs to me that I am America. ! u4 f3 I) N; ]
I am talking to myself again.
! a+ e5 ~# e& r# Y; b5 W ^; \+ P1 w! g1 T& ~( h
Asia is rising against me.
1 q. W3 }7 d1 b% x c& @' i9 WI haven't got a chinaman's chance.
0 O, D6 u) v! g+ u) SI'd better consider my national resources.
( d0 ^# I3 I: L3 D7 ?% tMy national resources consist of two joints of
' F! Y0 e) t/ N6 U3 z3 ?" smarijuana millions of genitals an unpublishable
- t/ |" q* M% g2 Wprivate literature that goes 1400 miles an hour 3 t/ X2 U! b' J% h d9 ~0 V
and twenty-five-thousand mental institutions.
9 x0 G. K9 h C* X, s r6 WI say nothing about my prisons nor the millions of 7 c1 Y; }# y, Y! E. T: S
underprivileged who live in my flowerpots
, P$ P/ s' ]5 w* _under the light of five hundred suns.
2 V% ^. i( i; _5 F; cI have abolished the whorehouses of France, Tangiers 1 d8 i6 l$ L4 s
is the next to go. - {8 [, G( W# ?
My ambition is to be President despite the fact that
& c! A% E- I3 GI'm a Catholic.
/ ~7 ^. p) c$ Z6 y2 e" \( b4 nAmerica how can I write a holy litany in your silly
`9 X. q4 e4 }1 P$ W1 q- Omood? # ]& S. }% E; u, Q1 n" l
I will continue like Henry Ford my strophes are as
. i/ ~2 F8 V- ^+ j# B& cindividual as his automobiles more so they're 5 F3 }. j0 v6 |& U- l/ C
all different sexes. % M$ _$ t0 \9 v1 `- `- Q. U
America I will sell you strophes $2500 apiece $500 ' k5 a0 Z& D9 o" s/ S
down on your old strophe
1 ?8 Y l& G8 R1 d2 x6 VAmerica free Tom Mooney
: {; e1 ^# g! s3 w, ?& g& \; QAmerica save the Spanish Loyalists * @: \2 A" D( c: `3 I! o' a) z
America Sacco & Vanzetti must not die 1 \3 @, a: T# x& A% @
America I am the Scottsboro boys. & T/ c- \0 x' R
America when I was seven momma took me to Com-
0 k5 v& ^# D! [0 G; _( P/ _" ]/ vmunist Cell meetings they sold us garbanzos a ! M) P& J" B( C. L
handful per ticket a ticket costs a nickel and the
+ G) q$ a$ I7 f% H) Nspeeches were free everybody was angelic and ; ?4 @1 O8 N+ G0 w
sentimental about the workers it was all so sin-
4 a0 z- s+ Z5 Y. w# Kcere you have no idea what a good thing the ' a3 _2 Y# |% H3 c, q2 Y
party was in 1835 Scott Nearing was a grand 1 ^* N H- I; m) ?% w: C
old man a real mensch Mother Bloor made me
0 Z# _: X0 m$ H4 K8 Scry I once saw Israel Amter plain. Everybody
' `+ I& i i/ \3 c5 `# p- |must have been a spy. 4 C( \+ K) Y. \0 a4 J/ Y
America you don't really want to go to war.
: o" u. e. f2 f. P5 |. PAmerica it's them bad Russians.
% o5 ~1 U! y/ B! k# n2 J" e/ ^Them Russians them Russians and them Chinamen.
5 A4 s5 q! \4 ?2 g1 ]And them Russians.
8 ]4 X* H9 S$ S1 @/ }, d# l7 ]The Russia wants to eat us alive. The Russia's power ' k. R9 Z7 s& H
mad. She wants to take our cars from out our
9 w* Q8 U9 L7 g2 X5 |1 xgarages. ! b; Q) ~1 s, o
Her wants to grab Chicago. Her needs a Red Readers' 5 i& |" K/ H3 m Y4 R
Digest. Her wants our auto plants in Siberia. ) f5 V D% ~/ }3 ~
Him big bureaucracy running our fillingsta-
! G, Y* c: T& T: g# W! ?* m# Ztions.
3 C3 d/ S. A( R+ S7 WThat no good. Ugh. Him make Indians learn read.
% }* U6 b+ k8 WHim need big black niggers. Hah. Her make us ; o( E) `2 |& o2 Q5 ]/ ?
all work sixteen hours a day. Help. 3 z: }: S+ e; m: `' f
America this is quite serious. ' U1 s7 S7 V, b! p. K
America this is the impression I get from looking in
( Q3 j/ E+ c {' Gthe television set. ) u1 V, ?9 V, Y' Q5 {+ }
America is this correct? 7 H( L! _( ~7 m& o$ J% a
I'd better get right down to the job. ) r& e8 e% J# a4 J
It's true I don't want to join the Army or turn lathes
7 d# c7 ^1 x4 y3 U3 R4 p' bin precision parts factories, I'm nearsighted and ( V& l5 i( Z( F" G- X2 u
psychopathic anyway.
6 w+ T5 V8 l3 I5 H& o! z. AAmerica I'm putting my queer shoulder to the wheel
网页链接
My Alba, by Allen Ginsberg
4 March 2012
I picked up Ginsbergy’s Reality Sandwiches in Maelstrom this week. I opened it, and straight away, something punchy. But I must make a disclosure: I was besuited when I bought it, strolling back from a conference in the European quarter, my own beat credentials in tatters.
///
Now that I’ve wasted
five years in Manhattan
life decaying
talent a blank
talking disconnected
patient and mental
sliderule and number
machine on a desk
autographed triplicate
synopis and taxes
obedient prompt
poorly paid
stayed on the market
youth of my twenties
fainted in offices
wept on typewriters
deceived multitudes
in vast conspiracies
deodorant battleships
serious business industry
every six weeks whoever
drank my blood bank
innocent evil now
part of my system
five years unhappy labor
22 to 27 working
not a dime in the bank
to show for it anyway
dawn breaks it’s only the sun
the East smokes O my bedroom
I am damned to Hell what
alarmclock is ringing
NY 1953
[Ripped from http://www.nbu.bg/webs/amb/american/5/ginsberg/alba.htm; they state the date of publication rather than the date of composition.]
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