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and give us this day our daily bread 4| 瀏覽:1,438人次













Love Sonnet XIII
by Pablo Neruda

The light that rises from your feet to your hair,
the strength enfolding your delicate form,
are not mother of pearl, not chilly silver:
you are made of bread, a bread the fire adores.

The grain grew high in its harvest of you,
in good time the flour swelled;
as the dough rose, doubling your breasts,
my love was the coal waiting ready in the earth.

Oh, bread your forehead, your legs, your mouth,
bread I devour, born with the morning light,
my love, beacon-flag of the bakeries:

fire taugh you a lesson of the blood;
you learned your holiness from flour,
from bread your language and aroma.

聶魯達《愛的十四行詩 之十三》(陳黎譯)
從你雙腳上升到髮際的光,
那包裹你纖柔軀體的力量,
不是珍珠母,不是冰冷的銀:
你是麵包做的,烈火愛慕的麵包。

穀物在收穫季節高堆,在你體內
麵粉也在幸福的時節發酵:
當麵糰使你的乳房加倍隆起,
我的愛是在土中待命的煤炭。

啊,你的額頭是麵包,你的腿是麵包,
你的嘴也是,被我吞食,隨晨光而生的麵包,
我的愛,你是麵包店的旗幟,

火教給了你血的課程,
你自麵粉體認到自己的神聖,
自麵包學會你的語言和芳香。


延伸閱讀:愛情太短 遺忘太長

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Comment from 20
Time February 18, 2009 at 9:45 pm

i am breading myself as well.

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