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Edvard Munch
作者Author  /  Charles  Wright  查爾斯.萊特

Edvard Munch

 
 
We live in houses of ample weight, 
Their windows a skin-colored light, pale and unfixable. 
Our yards are large and windraked, their trees bent to the 
        storm. 
People we don't know are all around us. 

Or else there is no one, and all day 
We stand on a bridge, or a cliff's edge, looking down. 
Our mothers stare at our shoes. 

Hands to our ears, our mouths open, we're pulled on 
By the flash black, flash black flash of the lighthouse 
We can't see on the rock coast, 
Notes in a bottle, our lines the ink from the full moon.
 

   
 
   
The poem is from ........... China Trace.(Library of Congress Cataloging in Publication Data; Wright, Charles, 1935- Manufactured in the United States of America; First edition )
All Rights reseved. Used with permission by Wesleyan University Press, 2002.
   
 
   
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