詩人與時事－－小平等請！
文章來源: LTG
小平好，
感謝真誠回應！我的回貼當然不是回給某個人的，高興你理解！！
小平寫道：“原則上我並不盲從於任何黨派，但我也不願意接受
“願望”一次次地破滅，看到這個“sorry”帖子，我願意對這些雖
敗猶榮我寄予這麽多希望的人們說：COOL! 但我更希望他們來反
思一下：你們和我們要的是什麽？怎樣回答或說完成你們和我們的
這些“為什麽”？
我以為民主共和兩黨的“願望”都很明顯，所以美國分裂到今天的
地步。小平用的幾個代詞很有意思，誰是“我們”“你們”和“他們”？
我們－－中國人？民主黨派？你們－－非中國人？共和黨？“他們”
又包括誰呢？這說明眼下世界的複雜性，不再是小蔥兒伴豆腐了。
老子說“治大國如烹小蟹”，確實，有些事情即複雜又簡單。但，
人類善於互相利用，爾虞我詐，相互殘殺，朝起朝落。我想借老
子的智慧來理解看似複雜的世界。［不針對個人］。
* * * * * * * *
我曾誤認為來詩壇的朋友們對時事，世事，史實，事實等都有比較
成熟的理解，要不幹嘛讀詩寫詩呀？我們從李白杜甫學到了什麽？？
別的論壇裏可以沒有詩，但“詩”卻囊括了一切，從一杯茶一束花
到滿江紅石壕吏！所以，好的詩不容易寫，因為你不但要懂數理化，
不但要浪漫，不但要會深沉，更重要的是心要正！也就是所謂的良
知，外加後天學到的智慧。
中國老百姓被君主專政軍事獨裁外來侵略奴役了千百年，可為什麽有
人一旦有了口飯吃，有了皮襖穿，就反過來支持弱肉強食霸道吞並的
“法則”呢？？
我想，這種劣根性超出了國界，是人的動物本性之一，就是“生存”
的本性，將生物的基本需求放在第一位，先保住小命兒要緊。所以，
抗日時有了漢奸，要生存，就出賣同胞；文革時出了同誌，六親不認，
革命到底，把同胞整進牛棚地牢。
德國不是出了不少大哲學家嗎？怎麽又繁殖了希特勒這樣的東西？？？
猶太人差點兒被希特勒趕盡殺絕，以色列怎麽又對巴勒斯坦人如此殘
忍？？？？？？
在“最高統率”的背後，有許許多多的“小百姓”為之拚殺，為之賣命！！
自古使然！！！
什麽意思呢？自古以來的任何不人道的行為都有很多很多人去參與，去支持。
思想，對於這些人和食物一樣，吃掉了，再排泄出去，停留的時間很短。仔
細分析一下，這些人，如漢奸奴役奴隸的奴隸等，還不如動物。動物就是動
物，從不偽裝成“人”，它們餓了就吃就殺，但吃飽了並不去霸占，或去吞
並同類。
所以，人類對時局的看法不一，是很正常的。
美國的大公司財團到第三世界“造福”，雇傭中國廉價勞力，這樣，我們就可以
買到很便宜的衣服啊日用品啊，這不是很好的美國夢嗎？？？帝國主義現在不明
目張膽地欺負中國人了，輪到中東人倒黴了，這不很好嗎？？？？伊拉克的婦女
兒童無辜百姓死了十萬，跟我們沒關係，是嗎？？？？
生長在沒有民主的國家裏，盲目支持如此明目張膽的侵略行徑是很可怕的。
“此屆大選，宗教起了決定性的作用，在若幹選民心目中，伊拉克戰爭隻存在戰
術問題，在戰略上則是正確的。以拉登為首的基地組織把恐怖襲擊稱之為“聖戰”，
因此多數美國人並不覺得政府發動的戰爭與當初“十字軍東征”有什麽本質的區別，
這不是為了某種有限的利益而戰，而是為信仰與自由而戰，因此，即使戰場上士兵
死亡數字不斷上升，也不能使他們從根本上否定這場戰爭。對這場戰爭持反對意見
的多屬新美國公民，他們既不能領悟信仰的真諦，又缺乏對自由的體驗，因而也就
不能很好地理解這場戰爭的意義。”
一個人的正義感與捍衛和平的信念是與口袋裏的護照無關的！無論你在那裏，隻要你
追求正義，事實，隻要你為自己獨立思考，而不是半路出家道聽途說，就可以通
過思考明白那弱肉強食的，原始的侵略戰爭是危害全人類的。
To Near, but Remote friend LTG
These authentic paintings are from my favourite painter as well as poet –
to savour these fairest creatures, of the sunshine, of the sky, of trees, of
mountain, of sharpcolor,
but also showers and thunderstorms in which a fragile small lone figure
lingers an alien land,-
all people mock his foreign tongue, set unwelcome eyes on his bizarre
appearance… he found himself lost, lost about his future course and his
homeland in these unaccustomed surroundings…
Petals of flower appeared like a sunshine shower scurried across the sun,
and tears caught the sun as the sun had wept, roared, and bled again and
again at his heart.
Uncertainty drizzled through his mind as bleakly as the cold rain settled on
his face.
Surely harsh showers and thunderstorms made his minds and hearts ache when
he feels the world fickle, but to grow and to struggle is a fate; a life we have to
live, and no one can escape.
Friend, you should be bold and strong, fear only feeds on fear. God will give the
fair wing and might strength when you are cornered.
“When you are corned you have no alternative but winning, I was taught that.”
The spell will be broken, and the dark and evil forces will be dispersed one day
just as the sun flies from the clouds.
Equally, all this passion, hope and vitality absorbed in these paintings and lines
given by these significant creatures, such as Cummings, Shakespear, Vincent…
like a candle to cast upon the world; a torch to light our heart; a rest land to offer
softness and warmness in a hard world; and a soul conspiracy to accompany our
thoughts on the life journey.
“Poetic period number one had been nothing if not individualistic....--but, alas! a
moribund mental cloud soon obscured my vital psychic sky. The one...thing which
mattered about any poem (so ran my second poetic period's credo) was what the poem
said; it's socalled meaning.... Thus it will be seen that, by the year 1900, one growing
American boy had reached exactly that stage of "intellectual development" beyond
which every ungrowing Marxist adult of today is strictly forbidden...ever to pass.
[Here he relates the third period.] The Rhymester diverted my eager energies from
what to how: from substance to structure.... With this welcome revelation, the mental
cloud aforesaid ignominiously dissolved; and my psychic sky joyfully reappeared....
’ -----E.E. Cummings, 1922
So life like the art is something that makes us feel like singing in
our eyes and our heart as well as in our throat and mouth when
you live the faith with a beautiful mind
Starry, starry night:
Paint your palette blue and gray.
Look out on a summer"s day
With eyes that know the darkness in my soul.
Shadows on the hills.
Sketch the trees and the daffodils;
Catch the breeze and the winter chills
In colors on the snowy linen land.
Now I understand
What you tried to say to me,
And how you suffered for your sanity
And how you tried to set them free.
They would not listen; they did not know how.
Perhaps they"ll listen now.
Starry, starry night:
Flaming flowers that brightly blaze;
Swirling clouds in violet haze
Reflect in Vincent"s eyes of china blue.
Colors changing hue:
Morning fields of amber grain,
Weathered faces lined in pain
Are soothed beneath the artist"s loving hand.
Now I understand
What you tried to say to me,
And how you suffered for your sanity
And how you tried to set them free.
They would not listen; they did not know how.
Perhaps they"ll listen now.
For they could not love you
But still, your love was true.
And when no hope was left inside
On that starry, starry night
You took your life as lovers often do.
But I could"ve told you, Vincent:
This world was never meant
For one as beautiful as you.
Starry, starry night:
Portraits hung in empty halls:
Frameless heads on nameless walls
With eyes that watch the world and can"t forget;
Like the strangers that you"ve met:
The ragged men in ragged clothes.
The silver thorn, a bloody rose
Lie crushed and broken on the virgin snow.
Now I think I know
What you tried to say to me,
And how you suffered for your sanity
And how you tried to set them free.
They would not listen; they"re not listening still.
Perhaps they never will.
≠paleink
2004-11-12
