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【译/改】理想三旬 (Whims of a Thirtysomething)

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发表于 2018-4-20 07:32:31 | 显示全部楼层 |阅读模式
本帖最后由 Azenkoan 于 2018-4-20 07:30 编辑


一次尝试,看看能不能把理想三旬的歌词变成诗歌,稍有改编


理想三旬

填词/唐映枫


雨后有车驶来
驶过暮色苍白
旧铁皮往南开,恋人已不在
收听浓烟下的
诗歌电台
不动情的咳嗽,至少看起来
归途也还可爱
琴弦少了姿态
再不见那夜里,听歌的小孩
时光匆匆独白
将颠沛磨成卡带
已枯倦的情怀,踏碎成年代
就老去吧,孤独别醒来
你渴望的离开
只是无处停摆
就歌唱吧,眼睛眯起来
而热泪的崩坏
只是没抵达的存在
青春又醉倒在
籍籍无名的怀
靠嬉笑来虚度,聚散得慷慨
辗转却去不到
对的站台
如果漂泊是成长,必经的路牌
你迷醒岁月中
那贫瘠的未来
像遗憾季节里,未结果的爱
弄脏了每一页诗
吻最疼痛的告白
而风声吹到这,已不需要释怀
就老去吧,孤独别醒来
你渴望的离开
只是无处停摆
就歌唱吧,眼睛眯起来
而热泪的崩坏
只是没抵达的存在
就甜蜜地忍耐
繁星润湿窗台
光影跳动着像在,困倦里说爱
再无谓的感慨
以为明白
梦倒塌的地方,今已爬满青苔


Whims of a Thirtysomething


The rain has stopped.
Old trains passed by in a pallid dusk,
In which sat my old flame,
Heading south in its mottled tin skin.
I juggled different radio stations
Of poetry,
In the heavy fog.
Occasional coughs
Helped decorate my return journey.
I have strings free of attitudes.
Yet, no longer can be seen
Kids listening to old songs
At nights.
Time’s rash monologues
Recorded cassettes full of travails.
My withered nostalgia,
Is trodden upon
By the river of time.

Just grow old, and let loneliness be.
Your will to leave
Is merely because
You have nowhere else to tarry.
Just sing, and squint your eyes.
Meanwhile an outburst of tears
Is busy mourning,
The places you’ll never reach.

Youth is a drunkard,
Falling into unknown arms.
I lived off parties and blasts
To fill my generous void.
I tossed and turned,
In various pullman’s bedrooms.
But never seemed to arrive,
At the right platform.
If exile is a bus sign,
That you must stop by
When growing old.
In your half-awake days and years,
You see,
That barren future,
like a fruitless flower of love,
Blooming in regretful seasons.
I tainted every page of poetry.
I kissed my most hurtful confession.
When the wind blows past me,
I no longer need its relief.

Just grow old, and let loneliness be.
Your will to leave
Is merely because
You have nowhere else to tarry.
Just sing, and squint your eyes.
Meanwhile an outburst of tears
Is busy mourning,
The places you’ll never reach.

Guess I’ll have to endure my sweet life.
With my window panes wettened,
Under a starry night.
Shadows jumping around,
Chatting about love,
While I’m drowsy,
And giving senseless sighs.
I thought I understood.
But you see,
The ruins of my dreams,
Have moss creeping up on me.


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发表于 2018-6-25 14:38:44 | 显示全部楼层
很好的尝试
回复 支持 反对

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