2017年7月30日 星期日

"Dior: The Collections, 1947-2017."

At Vogue Magazine, Laird Borrelli-Persson interviews Alexander Furyabout Christian Dior, the New Look, and the Dior legacy on the occasion of his exquisite new book, "Dior: The Collections, 1947-2017."

Fashion journalist Alexander Fury on what he learned when working on his…
VOGUE.COM

2017年7月28日 星期五

Poet Carl Sandburg; Lincoln:A Life;《林肯新傳》《林肯傳》Abraham Lincoln " The Shoemaker's Son "


Carl Sandburg was an American poet, writer, and editor who won three Pulitzer Prizes: two for his poetry and one for his biography of Abraham Lincoln. Wikipedia
EducationLombard College (1898–1902)

Poetry is an echo, asking a shadow to dance.
Time is the coin of your life. It is the only coin you have, and only you can determine how it will be spent. Be careful lest you let other people spend it for you.
I'm an idealist. I don't know where I'm going, but I'm on my way.



“Beware of advice—even this.”
—Poet Carl Sandburg




On this day in 1865, John Wilkes Booth, an actor and Confederate sympathizer, fatally shoots President Abraham Lincoln at a play at Ford's Theatre in Washington, D.C. The attack came only five days after Confederate General Robert E. Lee surrendered his massive army at Appomattox Court House, Virginia, effectively ending the American Civil War.
"The assassination of Abraham Lincoln. It was a new crime, a pure act of malice. No purpose of the rebellion was to be served by it. It was the simple gratification of a hell-black spirit of revenge."
-- Frederick Douglass (1876)
As a defender of national unity, a leader in war, and the emancipator of slaves, Abraham Lincoln lays ample claim to being the greatest of our presidents. But the story of his rise to greatness is as complex as it is compelling. In this superb, prize-winning biography, acclaimed historian Richard Carwardine examines Lincoln’s dramatic political journey, from his early years in the Illinois legislature to his nation-shaping years in the White House. Here, Carwardine combines a new perspective with a compelling narrative to deliver a fresh look at one of the pillars of American politics. He probes the sources of Lincoln’s moral and political philosophy and uses his groundbreaking research to cut through the myth and expose the man behind it. READ an excerpt here: http://www.penguinrandomhouse.com/…/lincoln-by-richard-car…/


Happy Presidents Day. The Cornell Library's copy of the 13th Amendment - signed by Abraham Lincoln - is on display now along with a number of other Lincoln artifacts.

今日世界出版社以前連Abraham Lincoln: The Prairie Years and The War Years Carl Sandburg (Author)等書都翻譯








Abraham Lincoln " The Shoemaker's Son "

Abraham Lincoln was the son of a shoemaker and he became the president of America. Naturally all the aristocrats were tremendously disturbed, annoyed, irritated.


On the first day, when he was going to give his inaugural address to the Senate, just as he was going to stand up, one ugly aristocrat stood up and he said "Mr. Lincoln although by some accident you have become the president of country, don't forget that you used to come with your father to my house to prepare shoes for our family. And there are many senators who are wearing the shoes made by your father"

He was thinking he can humiliate him.

Abraham Lincoln said something which should be remembered by everyone. He said
"I am very grateful to you for reminding me of my father just before I give my address to the Senate. My father was so beautiful, and such a creative artist-there was no other man who could make such beautiful shoes. I know perfectly well that whatever I do, I will never be such a great president as he was a great creator. I can not surpass him.

But by the ways, I want to remind all you aristocrats that if the shoes made by my father are pinching you, I have also learned the art with him. I am not great shoemaker, but at least I can correct your shoes. You just inform me, I will come to your house".


There was a great silence in the Senate, senator understood that it was impossible to humiliate this person. Only small people, suffering from inferiority, can be humiliated; the greatest of human beings are beyond humiliations.
在林肯當選總統時,整個參議院的議員都感到尷尬,因為林肯的父親是個鞋匠。
當時美國的參議員大部分出身 望族,自認為是上流、優越的人,從未料到要面對總統是一個卑微的鞋匠的兒子。
於是,林肯一次在參議院演說 之前,就有參議員計劃要羞辱他。
在林肯站在演講台的時候,有一位態度傲慢的參議員站起來說:「 林肯 先生,在你開始演講之前,我希望你記住,你是一個鞋匠的兒子。」!所有議員都大笑了起來,為自己雖然不能打敗林肯而能羞辱他開懷不已。
林肯等到大家的笑聲歇止,坦 然地說:「我非常感激你使我想起我的父親,他已經過世了,我一定會永遠記住你的忠告,
我永遠是鞋匠的兒子,我知道我做總統永遠無法像我父親做鞋匠做得那麼好。」
參議院陷入一片靜默,林肯轉頭對那個傲慢的參議員說:「就我所知,我父親以前也為你的家人做鞋子,如果你的鞋不合腳,我可以幫你改正它,雖然我不是偉大的鞋匠,但是我從小就跟隨父親學到了做鞋子的藝術。」
然後他對所有的參議員說: 「對參議院裡的任何人都一樣,如果你們穿的那雙鞋是我父親做的,而它們需要修理或改善,我一定盡可能幫忙,但是有一件事是可以確定的,我無法像他那麼偉大,他的手藝是無人能比。」
說到這裡,林肯流下了眼淚,所有的嘲笑聲全部化為掌聲。
林肯沒有成為偉大的鞋匠,但成為偉大的總統,他最偉大的品質,正是他永遠不忘記自己是鞋匠的兒子,並引以為榮。
尊嚴是人類靈魂中不可蹧蹋的東西,只有在你能夠坦率、真誠地面對自己的時候,你才會真正尊重你自己,並且贏得別人的尊重。那些懂得尊重自己的人,才會去尊重別人。

《林肯新傳》 作者:(美)湯馬士(Benjamin Thomas)著;何祖紹譯出版社:今日世界出版社 出版時間:1963 我們今天可對照原著 才知道它沒附地圖 maps 也少譯了一些 (如 illustrations /原書 Foreword 2008 當然 我們知道此書禁得起時代的考驗 )

Abraham Lincoln: A Biography - Google 圖書結果

Benjamin P. Thomas, Michael Burlingame - 2008 - Biography & Autobiography - 576 頁
The volume's clarity of style makes it accessible to beginners, but it is complex and nuanced enough to interest longtime Lincoln scholars.



胡適應該沒機會讀這本書
關心國是者 請用 a common country 查
Abraham Lincoln: A Biography - Google 圖書結果
Benjamin P. Thomas, Michael Burlingame - 2008 - Biography & Autobiography - 576 頁

可得出美國內戰之後求統一 不過它追求的是彼此的目的的一致 unify a country in common purpose

胡適日記全集 - Google 圖書結果

胡適, 曹伯言, 胡適 - 2004 - Biography & Autobiography
留學日記卷十三民國五年( 1916 )四月十八日至七月廿一日一、試譯林肯演說中的半句(四月十八日)趙宣仲(元任)寄書問林肯(蓋梯司堡( Gettysburg )演說)中之"。 ...





Gettysburg Address - Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia



《林肯傳》 [美]詹姆斯·麥克弗森著
田雷譯
中國政法大學出版社


馮象
.......回到北京,難得的風和日麗。打開信箱,竟又見證了田君的勤勉。原來,他把美國內戰史權威、普林斯頓歷史系教授麥克弗森的《林肯傳》譯出,做一本別出心裁的小書,託人送來了。
我說別出心裁,有兩層意思。
一是讚賞此書的內容編排。林肯研究在美國歷來是“熱門”,著作汗牛充棟。譯者挑出麥氏的傳記,是有眼光的。這小冊子省卻了資料堆砌,著力普及歷史知識,文字通俗易懂,作者夾敘夾議,不乏生動的人物性格細節。拿來給中國讀者做入門的嚮導,再合適沒有了。不過,移譯麥氏只是田君貢獻的一半。配合傳記,他不光撰文作一譯序,闡明林肯“再造”憲法、終結“州權主義”的歷史意義,還選譯了林肯六篇著名的演講,包括《葛底斯堡演說》,各具導讀,為本書下編。末尾,則備一份扼要的“林肯書目”並“林肯生平大事記”,便利讀者檢索參閱。
第二,《林肯傳》裝幀不俗:淡墨護封,書名加總統頭像燙藍;翻開,歷史照片插圖之外,附一摺頁,與護封一色,印著葛堡演說傳世手稿的唯一簽名本,the Bliss copy。眾所周知,林肯是演講天才。少時在小鴿溪農場的木屋裡,如飢似渴讀兩部書《聖經》和《天路歷程》,練就了他獨具一格的“詩性文體” (頁5),又樸實又高貴、堅韌。而林肯演講最著名也是最短的一篇,即葛堡演說。
這演說全文僅272單詞,從前英語課本必收,要求學生背誦。或許正因為膾炙人口,漢譯如何,一直沒怎麼留意。如今簽名本摺頁在手,便上網查詢,見有四五種譯本;對照原文,各有千秋,但一些關鍵語彙跟風格的把握仍不甚貼切。究其原因,大約是譯者不諳西文修辭,未解演說對英文欽定本《聖經》的借用發揮。加之宗教傳統不同,觀念相殊,就容易遮蔽了葛堡公墓落成典禮上,林肯以高超的修辭與政治智慧,使之獲“新生”而堪比聖書“垂範萬世”,那一場“政治宗教” (political religion)的憲法獻祭(演講一,頁107, 112)
這麼講,以林肯“串解”林肯,當然只是一家之言——兼向科先生我的拉比致敬。說到底,翻譯經典屬於“再創作”、經驗活(見《信與忘》,頁2, 107),抽像地討論,不給實例,於讀者無大助益。既然如此,我想,何不“下水玩一把”,試試新解是否可能?以下便是簽名本的拙譯,逐句註釋了,供諸君參考、方家指正。

葛底斯堡演說
(1863.11.19)
八十又七年之前,我們的先輩在此大陸接生了一個新國,她孕育於自由,奉獻於人受造而平等之公理。
如今,我們已捲入一場偉大的內戰,以考驗這國家,或任一如此孕育並奉獻的國家,能否常存。我們來到這裡,在一處偉大的戰場集會,是要把戰場的一角獻給長眠於此的將士;他們捐出自己的生命,乃是要國家永生。而我們此舉,是完全合宜而正當的。
然而,在更崇高的意義上,這片土地是我們無法奉獻——無法祝聖而使之歸聖的。那浴血於此的勇士,那生還的和犧牲了的,已經將​​它祝聖了——遠非我們的微力所能增損。此刻我們說的,這世界未必會留意、銘記;但他們在此做的,卻永遠不會被遺忘。毋寧說,奉獻於此的,是我們生者,以繼續那未竟的事業,他們一路奮戰、光榮推進的事業。毋寧說,在此奉獻於那留存我們面前的大任務的,是我們——
讓我們多多領受這些犧牲者的榮耀,忠於他們為之捐軀盡忠的偉業——
讓我們在此莊嚴保證,戰士的血絕不會白流——
讓這國家,上帝保佑,獲自由之新生——
讓這民有、民治、民享之政權,在大地上,永不消亡。


►  注釋

  • 八十又七年,four score and seven years,化自欽定本(詩90:10),延緩節奏,適於佈道、演講。
  • 接生,brought forth,統攝全文的意象,呼應下句“孕育”、結尾“新生”“消亡”。
  • 新國,new nation,比作奉獻於上帝而承“永約”的以色列聖潔之邦(創12:2, 17:7,出19:6,賽61:8-9)林肯刻意不提北軍代表的聯邦(Union),標舉國家/民族,是著眼於戰後的民族和解,以彌合“分裂之家” (可3:25,太12:25;參《林肯傳》,頁28)
  • 奉獻,dedicate,原文重複六次,經書熟語(民6:12,利27:17-18,申20:5)舊譯奉行(原則),不妥。
  • 公理,proposition,主張、提議,此處特指《獨立宣言》引以為據的“不證自明的真理” (self-evident truths)
  • 受造而平等,created equal,舊譯生而平等,誤。語出《獨立宣言》,回放《創世記》一章:所以上帝造人,取的是他自己的形象;男人女人,都依照/他的模樣(創1:27)據此,男女一同受造,形象取自天父;人既是神的鏡像,自然不應分尊卑貧富。可是聖法懸於奧秘,緊接著,伊甸園故事顛覆了“平等之公理”。第二章,耶和華“取地上的塵土”摶了亞當。女人雖說是亞當“般配的幫手”,卻是他的一根肋骨所造(創2:22)而且不幸,偷吃禁果後,上帝詛咒了夏娃,命她“依戀丈夫,要丈夫做[她]的主人” (創3:16)這是聖言啟示,男尊女卑的成因。奴隸制的出現,則要等到洪水滅了惡人,救主同完人挪亞及逃生的眾靈立約之後。那一天,完人醉酒,得知幼子瞥見父親的“裸相”,大怒,指聖名詛咒方舟的孩兒:迦南該死!將來給哥哥們當/奴隸的奴隸(創9:25)可見,“受造而平等”並無“生而平等”的階級革命的含義(對比法國《人權宣言》[1789]第一條:Les hommes naisssent…égaux en droits,人生來權利平等),僅指人未食禁果,或者末日受審,在造物主面前的平等。解放黑奴,如林肯 ​​多次解釋,本是為贏得戰爭而“必需”的一項軍事措施,目的是打擊南方的經濟、削弱其兵源(《林肯傳》,頁63-64)事實上,戰後美國南方的種族歧視、壓迫和私刑絲毫沒有消退。
  • 捲入,engaged,意謂“新國”是被迫應戰,經受“烈火的考驗” (演講四,頁158)
  • [將士],舊譯烈士,不妥。因公墓安葬兩軍的亡靈,所謂“捐出生命”的“勇士”,是包括失敗者在內的。後者抵抗的不是別的,正是林肯誓死捍衛、不許分裂的“國家”;而南方邦聯(Confederacy)的旗幟,如作家門肯(HL Mencken, 1880~1956)指出,是各州人民自決、自治的自由。當日,公墓落成典禮的主題演講嘉賓並非合眾國總統,而是哈佛校長艾弗列(President Edward Everett, 1794~1865)艾校長滔滔汨汨,奏響華章,一派拉丁化的靚麗大詞。他稱陣亡者為“英烈” (martyr-heroes),驕傲地站在“義師”一邊。輪到林肯,他只言“死者” (the dead),將雙方的犧牲一同紀念,一顯政治家清醒的頭腦於聖者的謙卑與寬仁之中。且不說修辭高下,僅此一點,總統的兩分鐘致詞(address)就勝過了校長的兩小時演講(oration),一如“新耶路撒冷”完胜羅馬(啟3:12, 21:2) 。
  • 合宜而正當,fitting and proper,也是經書熟語,強調一同紀念之必要。
  • 祝聖而歸聖,consecrate, hallow,《聖經》術語,詞根(qdsh)本義分別、隔開,轉指獻歸至聖(上帝)的物或人,稱“祝聖歸主”,如子民供奉祭品,立會幕、祭壇、大祭司等(出29:1, 33, 43-44, 30:30)
  • 那生還的和犧牲了的,living and dead,“勇士”的同位語。國土歸聖,“合眾為一” (e pluribus unum),是雙方“浴血”犧牲換來的。
  • 未竟的事業,the unfinished work,重點在生者:未竟,因為後人不忘。故聖潔之邦的“自由之新生”,不是一場內戰能擔保成功的;民主作為“政治宗教”要求每一代人的犧牲與“盡忠” (devotion)
  • 民有、民治、民享,of, by, for the people,借自廢奴主義者帕克牧師(Theodore Parker, 1810~1860):民主即直接自治,self-government,over all the people, for all the people , by all the people。此短語的源頭,學者考證,在“宗教改革之啟明星”威克利夫的英譯《聖經》序(1384):This Bible is for the government of the people, for the people andby the people (參《信與忘》,頁53)
  • 政權,government,對應上句“國家”。語出欽定本《以賽亞書》,希伯來文:misrah,本義君權、治權,轉指治權之行使、掌權者(賽9:6-7,羅13:1-4)舊譯政府,不確;由苦難和犧牲的獻祭中獲“新生”的,不是聯邦行政機關,是全國人民做主之權。
  • 永不消亡,shall not perish,經書熟語(出9:15,耶10:11,箴2:22,伯18:17),回應起頭的“接生”“孕育”。
二〇一六年勞動節於清華園,原載《東方早報·上海書評》2016.6.12
  CARL SANDBURG




  AND SO TO-DAY


  And so to-day--they lay him away--
  the boy nobody knows the name of--
  the buck private--the unknown soldier--
  the doughboy who dug under and died
  when they told him to--that's him.

  Down Pennsylvania Avenue to-day the riders go,
  men and boys riding horses, roses in their teeth,
  stems of roses, rose leaf stalks, rose dark leaves--
  the line of the green ends in a red rose flash.

  Skeleton men and boys riding skeleton horses,
  the rib bones shine, the rib bones curve,
  shine with savage, elegant curves--
  a jawbone runs with a long white slant,
  a skull dome runs with a long white arch,
  bone triangles click and rattle,
  elbows, ankles, white line slants--
  shining in the sun, past the White House,
  past the Treasury Building, Army and Navy Buildings,
  on to the mystic white Capitol Dome--
  so they go down Pennsylvania Avenue to-day,
  skeleton men and boys riding skeleton horses,
  stems of roses in their teeth,
  rose dark leaves at their white jaw slants--
  and a horse laugh question nickers and whinnies,
  moans with a whistle out of horse head teeth:
  why? who? where?

    ("The big fish--eat the little fish--
      the little fish--eat the shrimps--
      and the shrimps--eat mud,"--
      said a cadaverous man--with a black umbrella--
      spotted with white polka dots--with a missing
      ear--with a missing foot and arms--
      with a missing sheath of muscles
      singing to the silver sashes of the sun.)

  And so to-day--they lay him away--
  the boy nobody knows the name of--
  the buck private--the unknown soldier--
  the doughboy who dug under and died
  when they told him to--that's him.

  If he picked himself and said, "I am ready to die,"
  if he gave his name and said, "My country, take me,"
  then the baskets of roses to-day are for the Boy,
  the flowers, the songs, the steamboat whistles,
  the proclamations of the honorable orators,
  they are all for the Boy--that's him.

  If the government of the Republic picked him saying,
  "You are wanted, your country takes you"--
  if the Republic put a stethoscope to his heart
  and looked at his teeth and tested his eyes and said,
  "You are a citizen of the Republic and a sound
  animal in all parts and functions--the Republic takes you"--
  then to-day the baskets of flowers are all for the Republic,
  the roses, the songs, the steamboat whistles,
  the proclamations of the honorable orators--
  they are all for the Republic.

  And so to-day--they lay him away--
  and an understanding goes--his long sleep shall be
  under arms and arches near the Capitol Dome--
  there is an authorization--he shall have tomb companions--
  the martyred presidents of the Republic--
  the buck private--the unknown soldier--that's him.

  The man who was war commander of the armies of the Republic
  rides down Pennsylvania Avenue--
  The man who is peace commander of the armies of the Republic
  rides down Pennsylvania Avenue--
  for the sake of the Boy, for the sake of the Republic.

     (And the hoofs of the skeleton horses
      all drum soft on the asphalt footing--
      so soft is the drumming, so soft the roll call
      of the grinning sergeants calling the roll call--
      so soft is it all--a camera man murmurs, "Moonshine.")

  Look--who salutes the coffin--
  lays a wreath of remembrance
  on the box where a buck private
  sleeps a clean dry sleep at last--
  look--it is the highest ranking general
  of the officers of the armies of the Republic.

     (Among pigeon corners of the Congressional Library--they
      file documents quietly, casually, all in a day's work--
      this human document, the buck private nobody knows the
      name of--they file away in granite and steel--with music
      and roses, salutes, proclamations of the honorable
      orators.)

  Across the country, between two ocean shore lines,
  where cities cling to rail and water routes,
  there people and horses stop in their foot tracks,
  cars and wagons stop in their wheel tracks--
  faces at street crossings shine with a silence
  of eggs laid in a row on a pantry shelf--
  among the ways and paths of the flow of the Republic
  faces come to a standstill, sixty clockticks count--
  in the name of the Boy, in the name of the Republic.

     (A million faces a thousand miles from Pennsylvania Avenue
      stay frozen with a look, a clocktick, a moment--
      skeleton riders on skeleton horses--the nickering high horse
            laugh,
      the whinny and the howl up Pennsylvania Avenue:
      who? why? where?)

      (So people far from the asphalt footing of Pennsylvania
      Avenue look, wonder, mumble--the riding white-jaw
      phantoms ride hi-eeee, hi-eeee, hi-yi, hi-yi, hi-eeee--
      the proclamations of the honorable orators mix with the
      top-sergeants whistling the roll call.)

  If when the clockticks counted sixty,
  when the heartbeats of the Republic
  came to a stop for a minute,
  if the Boy had happened to sit up,
  happening to sit up as Lazarus sat up, in the story,
  then the first shivering language to drip off his mouth
  might have come as, "Thank God," or "Am I dreaming?"
  or "What the hell" or "When do we eat?"
  or "Kill 'em, kill 'em, the...."
  or "Was that ... a rat ... ran over my face?"
  or "For Christ's sake, gimme water, gimme water,"
  or "Blub blub, bloo bloo...."
  or any bubbles of shell shock gibberish
  from the gashes of No Man's Land.

  Maybe some buddy knows,
  some sister, mother, sweetheart,
  maybe some girl who sat with him once
  when a two-horn silver moon
  slid on the peak of a house-roof gable,
  and promises lived in the air of the night,
  when the air was filled with promises,
  when any little slip-shoe lovey
  could pick a promise out of the air.

      "Feed it to 'em,
      they lap it up,
      bull ... bull ... bull,"
  Said a movie news reel camera man,
  Said a Washington newspaper correspondent,
  Said a baggage handler lugging a trunk,
  Said a two-a-day vaudeville juggler,
  Said a hanky-pank selling jumping-jacks.
  "Hokum--they lap it up," said the bunch.

  And a tall scar-face ball player,
  Played out as a ball player,
  Made a speech of his own for the hero boy,
  Sent an earful of his own to the dead buck private:
       "It's all safe now, buddy,
       Safe when you say yes,
       Safe for the yes-men."

  He was a tall scar-face battler
  With his face in a newspaper
  Reading want ads, reading jokes,
  Reading love, murder, politics,
  Jumping from jokes back to the want ads,
  Reading the want ads first and last,
  The letters of the word JOB, "J-O-B,"
  Burnt like a shot of bootleg booze
  In the bones of his head--
  In the wish of his scar-face eyes.

  The honorable orators,
  Always the honorable orators,
  Buttoning the buttons on their prinz alberts,
  Pronouncing the syllables "sac-ri-fice,"
  Juggling those bitter salt-soaked syllables--
  Do they ever gag with hot ashes in their mouths?
  Do their tongues ever shrivel with a pain of fire
  Across those simple syllables "sac-ri-fice"?

  (There was one orator people far off saw.
  He had on a gunnysack shirt over his bones,
  And he lifted an elbow socket over his head,
  And he lifted a skinny signal finger.
  And he had nothing to say, nothing easy--
  He mentioned ten million men, mentioned them as having gone west,
        mentioned them as shoving up the daisies.
  We could write it all on a postage stamp, what he said.
  He said it and quit and faded away,
  A gunnysack shirt on his bones.)

      Stars of the night sky,
      did you see that phantom fadeout,
      did you see those phantom riders,
      skeleton riders on skeleton horses,
      stems of roses in their teeth,
      rose leaves red on white-jaw slants,
      grinning along on Pennsylvania Avenue,
      the top-sergeants calling roll calls--
      did their horses nicker a horse laugh?
      did the ghosts of the boney battalions
      move out and on, up the Potomac, over on the Ohio
      and out to the Mississippi, the Missouri, the Red River,
      and down to the Rio Grande, and on to the Yazoo,
      over to the Chattahoochee and up to the Rappahannock?
      did you see 'em, stars of the night sky?

      And so to-day--they lay him away--
      the boy nobody knows the name of--
      they lay him away in granite and steel--
      with music and roses--under a flag--
      under a sky of promises.




  CALIFORNIA CITY LANDSCAPE


  On a mountain-side the real estate agents
  Put up signs marking the city lots to be sold there.
  A man whose father and mother were Irish
  Ran a goat farm half-way down the mountain;
  He drove a covered wagon years ago,
  Understood how to handle a rifle,
  Shot grouse, buffalo, Indians, in a single year,
  And now was raising goats around a shanty.
  Down at the foot of the mountain
  Two Japanese families had flower farms.
  A man and woman were in rows of sweet peas
  Picking the pink and white flowers
  To put in baskets and take to the Los Angeles market.
  They were clean as what they handled
  There in the morning sun, the big people and the baby-faces.
  Across the road, high on another mountain,
  Stood a house saying, "I am it," a commanding house.
  There was the home of a motion picture director
  Famous for lavish whore-house interiors,
  Clothes ransacked from the latest designs for women
  In the combats of "male against female."
  The mountain, the scenery, the layout of the landscape,
  And the peace of the morning sun as it happened,
  The miles of houses pocketed in the valley beyond--
  It was all worth looking at, worth wondering about,
  How long it might last, how young it might be.




  UPSTREAM


  The strong men keep coming on.
  They go down shot, hanged, sick, broken.
  They live on, fighting, singing, lucky as plungers.

  The strong men ... they keep coming on.
  The strong mothers pulling them from a dark sea, a great prairie, a
        long mountain.

  Call hallelujah, call amen, call deep thanks.
  The strong men keep coming on.




  WINDFLOWER LEAF


  This flower is repeated
  out of old winds, out of
  old times.

  The wind repeats these, it
  must have these, over and
  over again.

  Oh, windflowers so fresh,
  Oh, beautiful leaves, here
  now again.

    The domes over
    fall to pieces.
    The stones under
    fall to pieces.
    Rain and ice
    wreck the works.
  The wind keeps, the windflowers
    keep, the leaves last,
  The wind young and strong lets
    these last longer than stones.