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挽歌  TWELVE SONGS

        
        
        
        把鐘擺停住, 電話綫掐斷,
        
        一根骨頭塞給汪汪吠犬,
        
        鋼琴蓋上, 鑼鼓蒙上,
        
        棺材抬進來, 讓致哀者行喪。
        
        
        飛機盤旋, 播放着哀樂,
        
        他死了! 訃告在天空傳閲,
        
        爲白鴿打上白領節, 致意,
        
        讓交警戴着黑手套, 行禮。
        
        
        他曾是我的方向, 南北東西,
        
        我的工作日, 週末休息,
        
        還有夜半明月, 蜜語情歌,
        
        本以爲愛能天長地久, 我錯了!
        
        
        星星别再來, 每一顆都熄滅,
        
        收起月亮, 將太陽拆卸,
        
        砍平森林, 淘干海洋,
        
        因爲這一切會永遠令人心傷。
        
        (W. H.·奥單)
        
        
        
        
        
        
        Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
        
        Prevent the dog from barking with a jucy bone,
        
        Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
        
        Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.
        
        
        Let the aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
        
        Scribbling on the sky the message He is Dead,
        
        Put crepe bows round the write necks of public doves,
        
        Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.
        
        
        He was my North, my South, my East and West,
        
        My working week and my Sunday rest,
        
        My moon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
        
        I thought that love would last forever: I was wrong.
        
        
        The stars are not wanted now: put out every one;
        
        Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;
        
        Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood.
        
        For nothing now can ever come to any good.
        
        
        (W. H. Auden)
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