中午去八方雲集，等甚久，管理不善。飯後，唐山一逛，買本與果文吉第15卷詩歌： 街道與園林之歌
Les Chansons des rues et des bois — Wikipédia
Les Chansons des rues et des bois est un recueil de poèmes de Victor Hugo publié en 1866 en France, mais l'édition originale de cet ouvrage a été publiée en ...
Lien Wikisource[modifier | modifier le code]
The foundation : a great American secret : how private wealth is changing the world / Joel L. Fleishman2007
- 9月14日(周三)， 曹永洋："從史懷哲到陳五福"；蘇錦坤：錯誤的常識：從夏含夷談夏商周的文獻與歷史...
- hc可能加演一場，【簡談非營利組織 (美國、台灣、中國)】--今天從台大圖書館借出一些書來研讀。
*****
晃三學長：
很高興今天又在漢清處碰到彰中學長。承你對小犬之設計有興趣了解，謹將數則中英報導之網址列出供參，此僅是相關資料之部分， 其他報導資料未完全整理：
英文報導：disegnodaily on Poetic Lab
https://www.disegnodaily.com/article/design-report-award- winner-announced
大好設計河山：Poetic Lab的訪談
http://www.dahao-dahao.com/archives/7605.html
大好設計河山：“竹林” - Poetic Lab 詩研所
http://www.dahao-dahao.com/archives/7042.html
中文媒體「破點 Rapaq 」 文具系列專訪：
http://point.rapaq.com/Article/120
中文媒體「MOT times」 文具系列專訪：
http://www.mottimes.com/cht/article_detail.php?type=0& serial=1252
中文媒體「MOT times」 studio專訪：
http://www.mottimes.com/cht/interview_detail.php?serial= 197
短片：
1. https://vimeo.com/912986292. https://vimeo.com/90305932
兩則短片一者是 Ripple 在2013年米蘭家具展得獎後，與維也納200年水晶老工坊 Lobmeyr 合作量產，
並於2014年米蘭家具展正式推出，此短片乃當時所拍。
另附一個檔案係Lexus最近一期的報導，個人覺得執筆者對訪問掌握得不錯，一併附請參閱。
再一次謝謝你的關愛，請批評指教。
杭之（陳忠信）敬上
------
YouTube 將你看過的影片標示為" Watched"。
Facebook 中文版用三個漢字："已觀看"，真浪費。"看過"/"看了"等即可。
~~~~~~
杜國清翻譯：
我呢，我的手臂疲憊，
只因我擁抱了白雲。
譯評：英文rent 是 rend的過去/完成式，表示撕裂。英譯採用墜落下時與雲"碰撞"而受傷。
Facebook 中文版用三個漢字："已觀看"，真浪費。"看過"/"看了"等即可。
~~~~~~
杜國清翻譯：
我呢，我的手臂疲憊，
只因我擁抱了白雲。
譯評：英文rent 是 rend的過去/完成式，表示撕裂。英譯採用墜落下時與雲"碰撞"而受傷。
But as for me, my limbs are rent
Because I clasped the clouds as mine.
---The Laments of an Icarus
1889.3.11 Journals by Gide 引用過. 通行版{惡之華}待查
Because I clasped the clouds as mine.
---The Laments of an Icarus
1889.3.11 Journals by Gide 引用過. 通行版{惡之華}待查
今天紐約時報書評版說，歡迎新專欄 Egos (2月一篇，主題是評介新出版的回憶錄和自傳) 的作者加入，本周她介紹3本同性戀成長之故事：
The New York Times Book Review: Aug. 21, 2016
The New York Times Book Review: Aug. 21, 2016
"Dear Reader...
...Finally, please welcome our newest columnist, Meghan Daum, one of my favorite contemporary essayists. Daum's bimonthly column, Egos, will look at new memoir and autobiography. This week she reviews three memoirs about growing up gay..."
...Finally, please welcome our newest columnist, Meghan Daum, one of my favorite contemporary essayists. Daum's bimonthly column, Egos, will look at new memoir and autobiography. This week she reviews three memoirs about growing up gay..."
EGOS
'Inside My Head I'm a Girl': Three Ways of Growing Up Gay
By MEGHAN DAUM
New personal accounts show diverse experiences of growing up gay, from the ordeal of conversion therapy to an unexpectedly elite cultural education.
'Inside My Head I'm a Girl': Three Ways of Growing Up Gay
By MEGHAN DAUM
New personal accounts show diverse experiences of growing up gay, from the ordeal of conversion therapy to an unexpectedly elite cultural education.
《現代學術研究 專刊1》1989； "民族自決"運動(《楊肇嘉回憶錄》)
楊肇嘉/著《楊肇嘉回憶錄》台北：三民出版社，2004
許多有意思的資料，譬如說，頁274 的1934年6.20~8.16? 的日本行，"亞洲各殖民地區搞"民族自決"運動的志士住在東京活動的為數不少......儘量協助他們，希望他們的運動成功"。
許多有意思的資料，譬如說，頁274 的1934年6.20~8.16? 的日本行，"亞洲各殖民地區搞"民族自決"運動的志士住在東京活動的為數不少......儘量協助他們，希望他們的運動成功"。
《現代學術研究 專刊1》台北：現代學術研究基金會，1989.6
目錄
創刊辭
【專輯 】
現代的國際法與自決權 (翻譯)
自決的概觀(翻譯)
自決權 的起源與發展(翻譯)
人民自決權的基本認識 (黃居正)
【論述】
美國對台貿易壓力與台灣的回應 (彭百顯)
中共對台灣之研究及新設統戰機構之憑藉 (陳少廷)
從醫學中文化到醫學本土化 (廖運範)
關於教師地位之建議書 (翻譯)
【演講與討論】
台灣戰後政治史 (若林正丈)
認識東海花園的楊逵
宋澤萊
http://news.ltn.com.tw/news/
Federico Garcia Lorca died near Alfacar, Granada, Spain on this day in 1936 (aged 38).
"Ode To Salvador Dali" by Federico García Lorca
A rose in the high garden you desire.
A wheel in the pure syntax of steel.
The mountain stripped bare of Impressionist fog,
The grays watching over the last balustrades.
A wheel in the pure syntax of steel.
The mountain stripped bare of Impressionist fog,
The grays watching over the last balustrades.
The modern painters in their white ateliers
clip the square root's sterilized flower.
In the waters of the Seine a marble iceberg
chills the windows and scatters the ivy.
clip the square root's sterilized flower.
In the waters of the Seine a marble iceberg
chills the windows and scatters the ivy.
Man treads firmly on the cobbled streets.
Crystals hide from the magic of reflections.
The Government has closed the perfume stores.
The machine perpetuates its binary beat.
Crystals hide from the magic of reflections.
The Government has closed the perfume stores.
The machine perpetuates its binary beat.
An absence of forests and screens and brows
roams across the roofs of the old houses.
The air polishes its prism on the sea
and the horizon rises like a great aqueduct.
roams across the roofs of the old houses.
The air polishes its prism on the sea
and the horizon rises like a great aqueduct.
Soldiers who know no wine and no penumbra
behead the sirens on the seas of lead.
Night, black statue of prudence, holds
the moon's round mirror in her hand.
behead the sirens on the seas of lead.
Night, black statue of prudence, holds
the moon's round mirror in her hand.
A desire for forms and limits overwhelms us.
Here comes the man who sees with a yellow ruler.
Venus is a white still life
and the butterfly collectors run away.
Here comes the man who sees with a yellow ruler.
Venus is a white still life
and the butterfly collectors run away.
*
Cadaqués, at the fulcrum of water and hill,
lifts flights of stairs and hides seashells.
Wooden flutes pacify the air.
An ancient woodland god gives the children fruit.
lifts flights of stairs and hides seashells.
Wooden flutes pacify the air.
An ancient woodland god gives the children fruit.
Her fishermen sleep dreamless on the sand.
On the high sea a rose is their compass.
The horizon, virgin of wounded handkerchiefs,
links the great crystals of fish and moon.
On the high sea a rose is their compass.
The horizon, virgin of wounded handkerchiefs,
links the great crystals of fish and moon.
A hard diadem of white brigantines
encircles bitter foreheads and hair of sand.
The sirens convince, but they don't beguile,
and they come if we show a glass of fresh water.
encircles bitter foreheads and hair of sand.
The sirens convince, but they don't beguile,
and they come if we show a glass of fresh water.
*
Oh Salvador Dali, of the olive-colored voice!
I do not praise your halting adolescent brush
or your pigments that flirt with the pigment of your times,
but I laud your longing for eternity with limits.
I do not praise your halting adolescent brush
or your pigments that flirt with the pigment of your times,
but I laud your longing for eternity with limits.
Sanitary soul, you live upon new marble.
You run from the dark jungle of improbable forms.
Your fancy reaches only as far as your hands,
and you enjoy the sonnet of the sea in your window.
You run from the dark jungle of improbable forms.
Your fancy reaches only as far as your hands,
and you enjoy the sonnet of the sea in your window.
The world is dull penumbra and disorder
in the foreground where man is found.
But now the stars, concealing landscapes,
reveal the perfect schema of their courses.
in the foreground where man is found.
But now the stars, concealing landscapes,
reveal the perfect schema of their courses.
The current of time pools and gains order
in the numbered forms of century after century.
And conquered Death takes refuge trembling
in the tight circle of the present instant.
in the numbered forms of century after century.
And conquered Death takes refuge trembling
in the tight circle of the present instant.
When you take up your palette, a bullet hole in its wing,
you call on the light that brings the olive tree to life.
The broad light of Minerva, builder of scaffolds,
where there is no room for dream or its hazy flower.
you call on the light that brings the olive tree to life.
The broad light of Minerva, builder of scaffolds,
where there is no room for dream or its hazy flower.
You call on the old light that stays on the brow,
not descending to the mouth or the heart of man.
A light feared by the loving vines of Bacchus
and the chaotic force of curving water.
not descending to the mouth or the heart of man.
A light feared by the loving vines of Bacchus
and the chaotic force of curving water.
You do well when you post warning flags
along the dark limit that shines in the night.
As a painter, you refuse to have your forms softened
by the shifting cotton of an unexpected cloud.
along the dark limit that shines in the night.
As a painter, you refuse to have your forms softened
by the shifting cotton of an unexpected cloud.
The fish in the fishbowl and the bird in the cage.
You refuse to invent them in the sea or the air.
You stylize or copy once you have seen
their small, agile bodies with your honest eyes.
You refuse to invent them in the sea or the air.
You stylize or copy once you have seen
their small, agile bodies with your honest eyes.
You love a matter definite and exact,
where the toadstool cannot pitch its camp.
You love the architecture that builds on the absent
and admit the flag simply as a joke.
where the toadstool cannot pitch its camp.
You love the architecture that builds on the absent
and admit the flag simply as a joke.
The steel compass tells its short, elastic verse.
Unknown clouds rise to deny the sphere exists.
The straight line tells of its upward struggle
and the learned crystals sing their geometries.
Unknown clouds rise to deny the sphere exists.
The straight line tells of its upward struggle
and the learned crystals sing their geometries.
*
But also the rose of the garden where you live.
Always the rose, always, our north and south!
Calm and ingathered like an eyeless statue,
not knowing the buried struggle it provokes.
Always the rose, always, our north and south!
Calm and ingathered like an eyeless statue,
not knowing the buried struggle it provokes.
Pure rose, clean of artifice and rough sketches,
opening for us the slender wings of the smile.
(Pinned butterfly that ponders its flight.)
Rose of balance, with no self-inflicted pains.
Always the rose!
opening for us the slender wings of the smile.
(Pinned butterfly that ponders its flight.)
Rose of balance, with no self-inflicted pains.
Always the rose!
*
Oh Salvador Dali, of the olive-colored voice!
I speak of what your person and your paintings tell me.
I do not praise your halting adolescent brush,
but I sing the steady aim of your arrows.
I speak of what your person and your paintings tell me.
I do not praise your halting adolescent brush,
but I sing the steady aim of your arrows.
I sing your fair struggle of Catalan lights,
your love of what might be made clear.
I sing your astronomical and tender heart,
a never-wounded deck of French cards.
your love of what might be made clear.
I sing your astronomical and tender heart,
a never-wounded deck of French cards.
I sing your restless longing for the statue,
your fear of the feelings that await you in the street.
I sing the small sea siren who sings to you,
riding her bicycle of corals and conches.
your fear of the feelings that await you in the street.
I sing the small sea siren who sings to you,
riding her bicycle of corals and conches.
But above all I sing a common thought
that joins us in the dark and golden hours.
The light that blinds our eyes is not art.
Rather it is love, friendship, crossed swords.
that joins us in the dark and golden hours.
The light that blinds our eyes is not art.
Rather it is love, friendship, crossed swords.
Not the picture you patiently trace,
but the breast of Theresa, she of sleepless skin,
the tight-wound curls of Mathilde the ungrateful,
our friendship, painted bright as a game board.
but the breast of Theresa, she of sleepless skin,
the tight-wound curls of Mathilde the ungrateful,
our friendship, painted bright as a game board.
May fingerprints of blood on gold
streak the heart of eternal Catalunya.
May stars like falconless fists shine on you,
while your painting and your life break into flower.
streak the heart of eternal Catalunya.
May stars like falconless fists shine on you,
while your painting and your life break into flower.
Don't watch the water clock with its membraned wings
or the hard scythe of the allegory.
Always in the air, dress and undress your brush
before the sea peopled with sailors and ships.
or the hard scythe of the allegory.
Always in the air, dress and undress your brush
before the sea peopled with sailors and ships.
***
沒有留言:
張貼留言