Tuesday, November 29, 2005

nightmare

content not suitable for underaged

so i had the strangest nightmare yesterday. somehow my body was replaced with someone else's. i only had my hands and head i believe. some sort of transplantation. because i could clearly see and feel the stitches around my wrist, still not fully healed and red. of course, when i scratched it blood was oozing out...i was sure that that body was not mine cos i feel that it was foreign. and when i saw it through some out-of-body experiencce, it was fatter than i actually am. so the entire dream, i was trying to go back to the place, a shop?, to find the person who does that transplating business, and hoping that she hasn't already disposed of my body(that was my actual thought throughout).

weird isn't it? why were the two hands mine? why would i dream of having someone else's body? maybe i've been thinking about mind-body problem too much these days...

Wednesday, November 23, 2005

The Green Table


Ah, i should take more pictures of this table... very interesting quotes...such as

Romantic love was invented to manipulate women.

--The Stuart Collection is an ongoing series of provocative modern sculpture projects scattering within the progressive campus of UCSD since the 80's.

Thursday, November 17, 2005

There's a sign in my lab that says:

please do not annoy, torment, pester, plague, molest, worry,
badger, harry, harass, heckle, persecute, irk, bullyrag, vex,
disquiet, grate, beset, bother, tease, nettle, tantalize, or zuker the
animals.


*zuker's my boss.

Tuesday, November 15, 2005

Cimetière du Père Lachaise

should i visit france, i shall go to this place... i know almost a quarter of the pple interred there...apollinaire, poulenc, balzac, callas, bellini, chopin, rossini, david, pisarro, wright, and of course, wilde. shall go visit the ashes of these respectful personalities and put a little bunch of flowers on their graves.

Saturday, November 12, 2005

Corrinne May

so finally saw corrinne may in reality. three years ago a friend first told me of her and passed me her cd borrowed from the library of raffles junior college. it was instant affinity... i heard her fly away and couldn't stop crying. partly because of the lyrics, partly because of my own inevitable and incurable homesickness, but mostly, because of the voice. comfortable, quiet, laid-back, sincere. without excessive airiness. and acoustic guitar or piano. it's all so natural and inviting. like a good company. was just so amazing to listen to at night. calmed me down like no other music. it's been a long time since that cd was returned to the library, but yesterday at borders at mission valley, it only took one or two lines of piano introduction for me to be reminded of the warmth that those melodies used to give. and after a few songs when she started fly away, i was amazed myself how fast my tears came. in addition to all things there was now a familarity, like, meeting an old friend in a strange place, catching up on old memories.

i was surprised how cheerful and at ease she was. making jokes now and then. wouldn't have expected that from the songs that she write. i know that it's perfectly natural for people to have different facets in their personality. i know. but her songs got stuck in my mind as those soft and melo images, it's just surprising to see her in any other way. but i liked her. pulling off the song session all by herself, plugging cables here and there, adjusting everything. (and i would rather believe that it's not deliberately arranged to draw sympathy. don't criticise me of being naive. fm.)it's a hard life. artists'. you're in the world by yourself, and you struggle to become celebrity, or the fallen majority.

and for the tears i shed listening to the songs, i bought her cd. it's true that her style is unvaried. and she's less likely to survive as a commercial singer. but i don't see such sincerity in songs everyday.


Fly Away
"When will you be home?" she asks
as we watch the planes take off
We both know we have no clear answer to where my dreams may lead
She's watched me as i crawled and stumbled
As a child, she was my world
And now to let me go, I know she bleeds
and yet she says to me

You can fly so high
Keep your gaze upon the sky
I'll be prayin every step along the way
Even though it breaks my heart to know we'll be so far apart
I love you too much to make you stay
Baby fly away

Autumn leaves fell into spring time and
SIlver-painted hair
Daddy called one evening saying
"We need you. Please come back"
When I saw her laying in her bed
Fragile as a child
Pale just like an angel taking flight
I held her as I cried

You can fly so high
Keep your gaze upon the sky
I'll be prayin every step along the way
Even though it breaks my heart to know we'll be so far apart
I love you too much to make you stay
Baby fly away
ohh...
I love you too much to make you stay
Baby fly away

Thursday, November 10, 2005

my blog is turning into an arts student's blog. so strange.
anyways, today in lectrue l learnt that....

hmm

nothing exciting.

never mind.

Wednesday, November 09, 2005

Mongo bongo

It's such an amazing song. i keep listening. can't stop. there's this laziness in that song that glues me to the earphones and prevents me from doing anything else. i can't even stand up. definitely a inhibitory neurotransmitter.

Friday, November 04, 2005

Listen to it rain listen to it rain




--Apollinaire

It's Raining. The Visual Poem



It's Raining

it's raining women's voices as if they were dead even in memory

it's raining you too marvelous encounters of my life oh droplets

and those clouds rear and begin to whinny a universe of auricular cities

listen to it rain while regret and disdain weep an ancient music

listen to the the fetters falling that bind you high and low

-Guillaume Apollinaire

在 在     也  而  听 听
     落        
落 落    着  那  是   那
着 着      些  不   镣
      你    云  是   铐
雨 女       彩     
  人   我       在   从
          高       天
  的    生   高  落   而
       命  升     雨   降
  声    中    起     
  音            与   将
         美   并    此    你
  好      妙        同     
  像      的  哼    时   缚
               鸣        住
   即       邂    着   遗    
   便      逅       憾    从
               一          头
     在     哦    个     与     到
                        脚
    记       细    宇    轻
     忆      小   宙    蔑
           的    
     中         充     和
            雨   斥    着
      都     滴    着 
      是               远
              听       古
       死        觉     的
      的          的  
                      乐
               城      曲
               池            
                       抽
                         泣

            
the words laid out in chinese look like a milder, more drippy rain, the rain-drops rather too big, while that in french look gluey and stringy, more sentimental.

Tuesday, November 01, 2005

OPHELIA



Ophélie


--Arthur Rimbaud


I

Sur l'onde calme et noire où dorment les étoiles
La blanche Ophélia flotte comme un grand lys,
Flotte très lentement, couchée en ses longs voiles ...
- On entend dans les bois lointains des hallalis.

Voici plus de mille ans que la triste Ophélie
Passe, fantôme blanc, sur le long fleuve noir;
Voici plus de mille ans que sa douce folie
Murmure sa romance à la brise du soir.

Le vent baise ses seins et déploie en corolle
Ses grands voiles bercés mollement par les eaux;
Les saules frissonnants pleurent sur son épaule,
Sur son grand front rêveur s'inclinent les roseaux.

II

O pâle Ophélia! belle comme la neige!
Oui, tu mourus, enfant, par un fleuve emporté!
ô pauvre Folle!
Tu te fondais à lui comme une neige au feu:
Tes grandes visions étranglaient ta parole
- Et l'Infini terrible effara ton oeil bleu!

III

- Et le Poète dit qu'aux rayons des étoiles
Tu viens chercher, la nuit, les fleurs que tu cueillis,
Et qu'il a vu sur l'eau, couchée en ses longs voiles,
La blanche Ophélia flotter, comme un grand lys.



Ophelia

-- transl: Wallace Fowlie

I
On the calm black water where the stars sleep
White Ophelia floats like a great lily ;
Floats very slowly, lying in her long veils...

For more than a thousand years sad Ophelia
Has passed, a white phantom, down the long black river.
For more than a thousand years her sweet madness
Has murmured its romance to the evening breeze.

The wind kisses her breasts and unfolds in a wreath
Her great veils cradled by the waters ;
The trembling willows weep on her shoulder,
Over her wide dreaming brow the reed bend down.

II

O pale Ophelia ! beautiful as snow !
Yes child, you died, carried off by a river !
--oh poor mad Girl !
You melted to him as snow to fire ;
Your grand visions strangled your words
- And fearful Infinity terrified your blue eye !

III

- And the poet says that under the [light] of the stars
You come [looking at night] for the flowers [that] you picked,
And that he saw on the water, lying in her long veils
White Ophelia floating, like a great lily.


欧菲莉亚
[一]
众星沉睡,死寂漆黑的水面
煞白的欧菲莉亚缓缓地漂浮着,
躺在她长长的面纱里,象一朵硕大的睡莲。

一千多年了,哀伤的欧菲莉亚,
一个白色的幽灵,沿着这黑色长河顺流而下。
一千多年了,她那甜美的癫狂,
不断地向晚风细诉着那浪漫的过往。

风,象花圈一般展开,亲吻她的乳房;
河水摇曳着她的面纱如同摇篮一样。
柳枝颤抖着在她肩上啜泣
芦苇弯过她那宽阔的梦魇中的眉端。

[二]
哦!苍白的欧菲莉亚!如雪一样白!
是的,孩子,你死了, 由河运载!
--哦,可怜的精神错乱的女孩!
你扑向他,仿佛雪花融于一簇火焰!
你远大的先知扼杀了你的言语,
--无尽的恐惧惊吓了你蔚蓝的眼!

[三]
而诗人说星光下的夜间
你来寻找你采过的花,
他看见水中,裹在长长的面纱里,
漂浮着的惨白的欧菲莉亚,象一朵硕大的睡莲。

it's a sad sad story. Ophelia. after i showed my mom the translation, i was told that my grandfather translated Hamlet, that's why my mom remembered the part about ophelia. coincidentally, i'm translating this modern poem about Ophelia too. all of a sudden, it felt strange, like something going through the changing time and space, delivering the unchanging sorrow and astonishment.