The Owl's Song: Dust and Bondage (Art Review)

by hjdsk78940 on 2011-06-14 09:55:00

(The following is a translation of the provided Chinese text into English. Due to its length, I will translate it in sections. Here's the beginning of the translation:)

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(The image below is a calligraphy piece gifted by my friend Hanmo Qinghuai: "Thinking of Innocence")

**The Cry of the Owl**

Margaret Atwood (Canadian writer, Nobel Prize winner in Literature for a certain year)

I am the heart of a murdered woman

Who took the wrong way home

She was strangled in an open field, left unburied

She was deliberately shot under a tree

She was dismembered by a chattering knife.

There are many fellow travelers beside us.

I sprout feathers, tearing my way out of her;

I am shaped into a feathered heart.

My mouth is a chisel, my hands

Hold so much of their sins (this sentence is careless)

I sit in the forest chanting

That monotone death:

Although there are many forms of death

There is only one song of death,

The color of mist:

It says Why Why

I do not want revenge, I do not want to accuse,

I just want to ask people

Why I lost vitality,

Why people lose their innocence (?)

I am the lost heart of a murderer

It has not yet been

It does not yet know its vitality

To go...; it still dreams

Like others

I am looking for it,

It will give me answers,

It will examine its steps, it will

Be cautious and careful, my claws

Will grow through the hands of murderers

And become claws again, flying freely without being caught.

(MM was reading this poem before I started writing my autobiographical novel—it turned out to be so similar...)

"Eightball" female overseas returnee's "Seen Scandals" (unconfirmed "truth or fiction"): http://bbs.bosslink.com/dispbbs.asp?boardID=1949&ID=80996&page=1 Resisting Temptation

B. Brecht

You must not be tempted!

The way back no longer exists.

The days are broken at the door,

And you can already feel the wind at night:

Morning will not come again.

You must not be deceived!

Life is thin and fragile.

Drink life as quickly as possible!

You will not be satisfied,

When you have to part with life.

Do not accept the comfort of those who deceive you, O debt crisis boosts gold prices, bullish trend attacks - Zhengdao Gold _ Zhengdao Brick _ CGB...!

You don't have much time!

Let decay become the savior!

Life is the greatest,

What remains is little.

Do not be lured

Into exhausting labor that leaves you exhausted!

What else could make you afraid?

You will die alongside all animals

And nothing will come after that.

Erotic Poems

Bertolt Brecht (Germany)

On that day in the blue moon of September,

Quietly beneath a young plum tree

I held her, the silent pale love,

In my arms like a tender dream.

And above us in the beautiful summer sky

Lay a cloud that I gazed at for a long while,

A pale cloud, incredibly high up.

And when I looked up again, it was gone.

Since that day, many moons

Have silently risen and passed.

The plum trees have probably been cut down.

And if you ask me what happened to our love?

I say: I can no longer remember,

But surely, I know what you mean.

Her face I truly cannot recall anymore,

All that remains is the memory of kissing her.

And even that kiss I would have long forgotten

If not for the cloud that lingered in the night sky.

That cloud I still remember, and always will,

It was so pale and came from far above.

The plum trees may still bloom,

And that woman might now have her seventh child.

But each cloud blooms only for minutes,

And when I looked up, it had already vanished in the wind. (Bertolt Brecht, 1898-1956) (Translated by Zi Rong)

This Brecht love poem appears in the latest Oscar-winning foreign-language film *The Lives of Others*, and also touches on the themes of "love" and "fleeting moments" mentioned by German literary critic Marcel Reich-Ranicki...

Bertolt Brecht (Bertolt Brecht, February 10, 1898 – August 14, 1956)

Biography: Renowned modern German playwright, theatrical theorist, director, and poet. Born on February 10, 1898, in Augsburg, Bavaria, Germany. He worked as a theater scriptwriter and director in his youth and was involved in workers' movements. In 1933, he went into exile across Europe. In 1941, he moved to the United States via the Soviet Union but returned to Europe after facing persecution post-war in 1947. He settled in East Berlin in 1948. In 1951, he received the National Prize for his contributions to theater. In 1955, he won the Lenin Peace Prize. He consistently advocated for opera reform and conducted experiments in epic theater theory and practice, incorporating Chinese theatrical art experiences to gradually form a unique performance style.

Major theoretical works: *Messingkoffer* and others. Representative plays include: *Mother*, *The Good Person of Szechwan*, *The Caucasian Chalk Circle*, *The Life of Galileo*, etc.

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(If needed, I can continue translating the remaining portions of the text.)