熱帶魚

今日下午四時半，幾名中國文人藝術家在斯德哥爾摩裸跑。
包括前傾向雜誌總編輯。

：)一看新聞稿，莞爾。

該雜誌以前就喜歡類似噱頭，几個大漢堆一座山之類。

今日的裸奔，也可能是這"年級生"青春的最後煥發啊，斯德哥爾摩市民應該出動觀光支持的。

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王家新擅寫‘痛苦的詩’。我讀了。
但是一直潛意識裡拒絕凝視他。

馬來西亞真正‘痛苦詩’不多，像黃錦樹什麼時候說過的(忘了什麼場合，從風裡瓢進我耳朵)‘一按下去就痛’，幾乎不真正算有。像呂育陶，他痛過嗎。浮上過一兩首，記憶中。我曾問他，你寫詩好像都不痛的。他展開馬華詩人當中最燦爛的笑容，機智地回答：都是別人的痛嘛。(難怪陳大為稱他，‘最強詩人’。)

(我不是歌頌痛苦。我逃避，其實。)

我們可能在不同場合曾共飲過幾回，‘黑色的牛奶’。我的偷偷加了糖。我來自年輕的熱帶，再痛也痛不過北方。

王家新自覺在中國過‘國際生活’(其實七十年代以降，‘中國詩人’生活，大抵如此。寫的，國際詩。)。很有一種苦澀的幽默意味。例如有一回，在北京郊外大學區吃簡餐，王家新朗朗介紹，那撒滿乾燥辣椒子的，那酸辣的，那鹹得要命的，隸屬，文革餐。你很難相信，我們就那樣坐在北京‘懷舊’，微笑，甚至神經某處被刺激到的開懷大笑。怀一個時代，管它是誰，那是歷史走過。

(“拿一束花上墳”的意象。當這件事落實，我想到王家新。有了詩做一層墊，痛感稍可以承受。)

但王家新還覺得不夠。他一直在，他還在，挖掘，痛。要挖到不見底，以服膺，深刻。我不知道真需不需要，但王家新是那麼做的。夠痛就清醒，是不是。

但他同時也，化約為簡。他是故意的。說，詩也可以這麼寫。也許，這是他詩學的痛与生平衡術。

那一代詩人很有一種讓人心安的執拗。聽聞我拗上里爾克，他對我說過，“我一定要幫助你完成這件事。”他自己走到策蘭去了，他不介意回頭陪我里爾克。

但是，王家新喝的還是，黑色的牛奶。
我也喝。管他的。

“馬來西亞，我把一個中國的孩子，
我的父親，葬在這裡了... ”

一按下去就痛。
管他的。

5:25PM
1/8/13

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(透明鳥重點在，一個空了的鳥籠)

默爾老人和一個dinar，故事如此展開。詩如此抒情得敘述，一個化境，簡直。

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很奇異的。羅的朗誦充滿真的童趣，像說得很好聽的話。話還能說得好聽麼？或
話就是話，如何區分好听，次好聽。

有。好聽的話，像耳朵餓的剛好，進餐份量剛好。

用這麼‘市儈’的語詞寫羅的語言殿堂，一點不怪。我說。
(想到，柳公該還未完全過去式？)說話的人發話頭，聽的人享用著共同的話語權，很公開，很民主。說不出的感覺。(如果說得出那麼作者會是我了，呵)
就是，... 透明鳥在發聲...

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(2013/March- )
孔夫子之后..

我在意大利街头踢了路一脚I kicked the road in Italy
From Greece region I accepted the dancing dress, as if a little arrival,I immediately again travel to Italy.2012/12/30
Was wearing jeans all day long then. Jeans light jacket, slightly thicker jeans pants.
Did I wear an umbrella? I forgot. Deja vu(wrong spelling yet to be corrected), after smile smile. After a dark figure, figure. Didn't quite remember, really. Was backpacking with a almost dark green school bag... nolstagia, if looked from now.
I was still a half little girl at that time, heart wet easily, some said to me, "Swollen", it's quite pitied I knew nothing, at that time. It was and is just like the flower I received at my sixteen-- in the protected glass(this referred to "Ban chulian, invited by Cai Xinlong), does the colour of the rose changed? By one or another one??
Is rose purely ironic? or is it a rosy pure iron,
a poet who can be a great poet as well as a good man, it is an mission impossible? Is there a poet who demand
another poet, to be a great poet? or a good man?
To be or not to be, it is yet, to be defined?
A man looks like coffee, a man makes good taste of coffee, which one even more like the role in phantom, in opera, who sang well?
In other words, is sexy and sensual the same?
Copied from retired city beauty editor: Love beings sexual, sexual not necessarily being loves. There are many possible meanings for S.
Anyone walk from China to France？ The one prefer Chinese style of kissing skill or Frank style?

Love is of course beyond age. of course beyond social status. In church a doctorate holder friend with her partner- who woke up early everyday to work as throwing rubbish man. Many years ago. From, memories.
But, I'd follow my first "audience" of the year and, laugh?
If we tried to measure love with messy momentum, just a moment..do I need to log on before I write here?
The Regret of Isadora
Some thoughts to ponder on: Here is not about right or wrong. [Youke liring sang] Some said, if your only tool is a hammer, surely what you can do is nailing. I couldn't agree more, even. Was that about attitude?I dare not make judgement.

(1)Years in Leipzig
I could still yet heard the sound of the tram... .

Memories float... I got up early, almost everyday. The reward will be, my lover would just wait for me at the entrance of his office, which, the ground floor is the Ancient Egyptian Muzeum. ...

Rainer, I didn't know you're there at that time, it was like what said Johnny, "Walk to the left, walk to the right...."

Something unpleasant happened then. To whom I could talk to? How could I explain, I went to this place, which smells with your smell, not because of Yap Ah Loy. No. definitely not. Not because another woman. Not because any siblings.

Just because of a man. A man whom decided to love me. And thus made me love him back.

Andreas, his name is Andreas, a man so refine and artistic, that himself is like an art.

Not because of what he had, he owned, he taught me, to love, is to enjoy the lover as an companion. So even if we're thrown onto an island, we will still enjoy each other's company.

He cooked for me...
Did he?
We have cooked for each other...

Andreas.. noone would call him so, Rainer, you know. Just like you, who have had in fact more than one, two, three, four.. five... name(s)... . .... Yes, Rainer, my lately 'harvest', one whom I finally could claim 'I once heard about you in the wind, and now I see you with my own eyes...'. I kind of finally learnt to separate your work from you [oppsss... really a bit late for me, someone like me... who had claimed to know you as if many years, ten or five?]. I admitted, now I admit no longer, Rainer, I 'discriminated' you, you who had grabbed my heart with your so refine thoughts, I had (but not you, Rainer, personally you whom I do not.. know... it was like a denial, it wasn't in fact, it was a faithful encounters.), finally, probably just a bit, still, in my eyes...

Rainer, singer sang about 'After finally'. I fear. No.

Time flies, you know. Rainer.. time flies....(2013.3.29)

I do not want to care, right or wrong, any longer. Am I right or wrong?

You whom hid in my memories, and now you are a pair of wings, or a pair of eyes? Please continue, Rainer, your beauty, your unique pursued language... thoughts.... thus.. your world.... only you.

We met once, twice? Finally, I saw you, and I don't remember you.

The sea wind is blowing, again? If you cry out, I won't respond. This time. Only if you ask me, why?

I don't know. Rainer.
I don't know, why.

Rainer, I can only talk to you. You are the lost one, and I can trust. When you are alive, I don't know who you are. After your death, ... are you dead?

People... talked about how you called on.. angels.... and guess or discuss, what angel.

But Rainer,.. that's not relevant to you and me. Why cared?
I care, only, the moment, when I felt, we have met... . have we? : )
I dare not call you mine.

Shhh, Rainer. In a winter, I met Tagore. ... In a summery winter, or just cold weather, in my imagination? I.. was caught by your beauty, : ), Rainer, finally I knew you're beautiful, for that, did you pay high price?
But beauty is priceless.. it is invisible... it is unspeakable.
It is silence.
It is, speechless. Or,
sometimes.., too talkative. I fear the terror.
I fear the beginning, so I politely excuse myself. Am I right or wrong?
That's the old question. I should not, ask.9.17

I would not ask, right or wrong. I ask, if allowed, if accurate?
I share you with you, : ) I shared, when you came to me, before my dream oh foredream is much better than...

Rainer, I do not demand you to be perfect, that would be too imperfect... What I did not demand, you already had fulfilled. Elegies...

I thought it was meaning sorrow, BUT! it was, is, joy! It overwhelms me, 'drain'ed into my soul as if...
I shared... I share d with a man, whom I thought very much like you.But, I might be not so right.. I didn't regret. Times pay off.What should come, come. And I met you. I thought I met you, but I didn't really?
Did I look into myself into a mirror only? Who told me life is but a mirage?

Rainer, if whom you met were me, we could imagine even more... but luckily we made it. I made fun with you. No. It's not funny at all. Did I laugh?
I could (have) made phantastic love. But Rainer, you have got no heart. You have no ability to appreciate true beauty. So I tried instead, to feed you with ugliness.
But you have no appetie either. How sad.
Then you just follow ma. At least that's what you can do.

Then, how? You want me to be your fish. Are you sure? A fish whom feels so happy in the water. Do you have water? To keep me happy? Just like what Rainer did, during the mythical half-mid nite?
Yes, I have nice silky long hair now, to make soft curtain...

I'd be bit more reserved than just now.... am I allowed then? I don't want to loose you, I mean, I do not want to lose my own love for you. I do not want to really hate you from my own heart.

In which year did you go to Arles? I do not want to check. You're there. I went there.. not for you!
But now it seemed it is for you! How amazing life could bring surprises to some? When it included me, I feel grateful? May be yes, may be no.
It depends, on the situation.

But you're there... did you see me, quarrel (oh goshhh!!!), with him? No.
You didn't.
I meant, did not, Did you?

He'd never 'quarrel' with me. He'd just ran away- when he sensed I might just run away?
Once a handsome man asked me, "Are you a 'run-away'?" I smiled
and cried, in my heart. We all made mistakes during younger than youth.
He'd never 'quarrel' with me, that meant war.

So it became real treasure, when I could meet a 'quarelling companion'?
It depends, either. On the source of the topic to be quarrel with... and the location of his soul... And it became a real sorrow.. when I knew him and he did not know himself.
When I knew he did not know himself because of situation beyond our controls...
This is meaningless? Or should I make it meaningful?
I am not at the age of trusting Tango.

Strange, Rainer. You are wild and you are cool. You're wild,
I know you. I knew you not. I thought I have known you, in a space whom no one knows
a time no one realized.
We are of similar species, not at all ways, though.
How would you address what your eyes see if I paid a visit to you? A gangster-like woman,
a girl,
or a child, from Petaling Jaya? You might let me occupy a humble tiny space in your glamorous diary, or Journal. Rather notebook?
Rainer, , 'am not a girl, not yet a woman' )))
AM just curious, if you're in this era, the typical virtual space world, while what virtual (Ah, what you're 'praised' by FZ 'comrade' (you might hate this title, or you may tolerate; Auden said, war is but no experience to Rainer. But it meant time.... we all know.)- turned the flowing into scupture.
DO you know Isadora? .. I met her in Greece.
Danced by her side...... in jeans skirt. You're there? Also?
I was the 2nd one, the 2nd from the left. Standing still, in the area where Athena was crowned with olive thorns, or should it be leaves, instead? Athena, though not Aprodite (I rather prefer "hermaprodite', 'Comrade Rainer', ah don't hit me, this is real kidding-lah~)
Rainer... though I couldn't be 'an Aprodite' (I played this role before, in a philosophy student's eyes. He suggested a cover of Boticelli for my "Living Metaphor", oh of course he had not forgotten to imagine himself as the man who wore red robe within- I secretly flew through my mind at nowhere in Taipei. Taipei, you know, a place where people secretly took you as the symbol of "E-x-i-s-t-e-n-t-i-a-l-ism"-- ,which Sartre denied. Sartre's denial shouldn't be a surprise, why should we, right? He also denied Nobel? Am I wrong, or not? Alas, I should have not repeated such 'foolish' answer in question.), I might can try to be 'an apple in Rainer's eyes', mmmmm!!!!!
Those are my sweet thoughts during my wonders years. I do not forget.
Rainer, I've got up slightly too early. Did you experience that?
You must have. You must have had.... . Rainer, need not pick roses for me, I'd rather you live long.
Rainer! Did you 'proof read' your poem over and over again?
Or you did it in one go? No body asked you such 'shallow' question, did any body?
I myself rarely proof-read, , kind of lazy, oooppps. Rainer, you appreciated no English, according to my impression.
My next move would be, trying to verify if a 'English memo' was really out of your own hand. (memo is not nemo, you know, You like to play or dance with words, same here! In this sense, we are a 'couple', ))
Oh, I deal with "Rilke" (this is such a big name, also, in the continent where I stay,... I know it is of no surprise to you. Rainer, I turned cold suddenly, yes, I turned cold, my heart. But I am a little candle, search for me whenever you need a little light, a dim one, when you "REALLY" need happiness. The kind of happiness I offer to you is in silence, reachable via only a sensitive, soft bliss like, gentle, sensitive heart, Rainer... ) in way of 'archaelogy', this sounds not very
up to date?

(2)Post-mermaid life
(3) Searching for My Rilke
(4)I hate myself for not loving you

(5)My letters to the poet I fell for

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譯自Wolfgang Kubin(顧彬)原著 張依蘋 譯

為何﹐到處伴隨我的一直是﹐神剩的﹐
為何時間與空間相遇﹐成為告別﹖

這裡無他者。我從遠方來到這裡。
在那﹐你靠近你自己。在那﹐你從從前步行。

這裡在杭州在西湖。我們思緒裡的
未知之城﹐那與我們很不一樣的。

然而一有關我們會在一起的傳說﹐因為我們不是
我們言說的主人﹐就像我們不再是我們雙方出身的主。

這一年我們應再次完全現代。一首詩
會如此﹐一城﹐它的湖﹐一座帳篷﹐猶如陌生記憶在我們之上。

我確實曾一次來過看你。靠近曲院的蓮
在西湖。這樣我造成你氣息的痕跡。酒的氣味﹖

那是前於我們時代之過往。只在夢中認識﹐我們
以及我們當代的言說﹐所有的相遇只是重複。

是。你一次站在我面前。我無法否定。
秋季的一酒店。罕見的名字披戴。

它的命名加倍地新。然而誰是多少新的。
必須多少異於古﹐在一切害怕離別之中。

我們因此加倍感受﹐那無觀念而來的﹐無觀念而走的﹐
每當多少感受那夏。我曾不在杭州嗎﹖

找到我。在那兒﹐我們吃著根莖。我們干燥著翻閱
樹林之間。在之中﹐我早到你的臉。甚麼湖還在躺臥﹖

我找到我的鏡子而在你此外想你。
我的意思是﹐再無剩余了。意思。少許的家披掛

我的思想。家是賓館﹖並非不是。這樣我
審核你的照片﹐你的相片在模糊休息室 。

在那裡﹐我穿你﹐如它之來﹐這樣你忽然從時間穿越﹐
從甦醒的日子﹐重新認識我﹐我﹐

我從前 只見你一次﹐
在夢裡﹖
就如我認識那荷 ﹖
古老曲院的﹐荷….
剩余的剩余。

於是甚麼曾經伴隨我們﹖曲院之酒﹐以芳香
與微風﹖芬芳再三。顏色再三。

所有的皆作她想﹐這樣我曾不在橋上﹐
在哪﹐春天曾等待。我只是漫游走過那街道。

山神。今天我只在形象裡面見到。那畫﹖
我一度是那遙遠的使者。行走於這幅陌生畫面。

上下。我栽種一個陌生的世界。所有的一切皆過往。
陌生的剩餘一陌生傳說﹐從你從我。

來自蓮 與 氣息

诗人的为难The Sin of A Poet

I make it new and sin against archaeologist.
I am classical and sin against revolutionist.
I over-rhetoric and sin against actuary.
I play hide-and-seek and sin against fortune teller.
I say too much and sin against painter.
I say nothing and sin against author.
I stand firm and sin against life player.
I am ever-changing and sin against commentor of current issues.
I am positive and sin against expert of oil drilling.
I am workaholic and sin against astronomer.
I fast and sin against professional eater.
I over-eat and sin against expert of losing weight.
My collection of poetry can’t sell and sin against environment activist.
I buy no furniture and sin against IKEA.
I do nothing, produce nothing and sin against my whole family.

百年目錄﹕里爾克在文化中國鳥瞰圖
报告者：张依苹

這是一份翻译目錄﹕從空中俯視詩歌的秘密魏瑪王國在文化中國區域的地圖。里爾克(Rainer Maria Rilke 1875-1926)成為了這個精神脈絡中的中心人物﹐對他的想像﹐仰慕﹐趨近﹐構成了前五四時期至二十一世紀﹐長達一百年(1912-2012)﹐對其文本﹐創作的模寫﹐翻譯﹐傳播。
這是一份相對完整的漢語里爾克传播图﹐涵蓋中國大陸﹐香港﹐台灣地區﹐海外(東南亞﹐歐美)﹐呈輻射線的里爾克詩意分佈圖。當Rainer Maria Rilke 抵達中國﹐他不再是Rilke﹐而是李尔克，黎尔克，而终于约定俗成为里尔克(Li Erke)，一个无法从中国新诗史/中国现代诗史/现代汉诗史消音，已经流动于现代诗在中国的血液里的汉语名字。
本報告分成兩個部份﹐一﹐里爾克在中國的存在﹐二﹐里爾克在中國的路程﹐統一在以中國作為思考主軸的﹐切入翻譯史﹑比較文學﹑中文文學史﹐以及詩作為文學創造的思考結構中﹐思考的佈景是看不見的世界文學史。

軸線從後1911年拉出﹐通過里爾克的介紹者﹑譯者﹑讀者穿針引線﹐線路所經之處﹐呈現的即是里爾克接受者的渴望﹑選擇﹑回應﹐從漢語里爾克的內容中﹐折射出這一百年之內﹐各區域的文化中國版圖上發出的時代的聲音── 以一個異者﹐來自他語(德語)的他者作為對象﹐想像自己的此刻當下與美好未來。

從這份報告的背面來看﹐里爾克在中國翻轉出一個“有中國的文學世界”。

当然期待学长的新书啦。

叉开的问题：新书相对什么书？（旧的，半旧的..？)

令出新问题· 工业区会出工人吗？只是内不问题。

有人曾告知:優大有很優秀的学生。事实证明。工业区会出很優秀的"化学工程师"。

第二,学长这篇最有趣的，创作与学者身份重重叠叠。学术建制，在马来西亚。是时候了。
问：“散文”与“论文”可不可（加以）区分？

学术不可能“自由”？“学风”自由，可能。

第二个问题才是“正式”抛向HJS本身：
既然参照系（似乎）是台湾过去的体验，那么本土是否对应“外土”？（诸如本省VS外省）

Localisation: Non-possibility and possibility
：黄锦树 我很敬重的学长。当年他携（当时）女朋友到马大来演讲，我心如小鹿撞过（他（当时）俊不输俊林）

To be serious, “Malaysian Chinese Literature and Ethnic(footnote 1)-

Footnote 1: During the conference held by “HUayan” in 2012(?), held at a hotel in KL. Zhuang Huaxing used the term “族裔”or”族群”， but somehow had not yet fixed it with a second langange. I once tried to seek his opinion, and am still waiting for the scholar’s response.

[比較好奇刪掉了哪些。以及為甚麼。]

退稿是貼在“面子書”(不是 臉書)
"產業".. 拉曼大學中華研究院前身﹐ 創意產業學院旗下的中文系
咦﹐“他”怎麼知道“我”一直把Paella煮焦
甚至變炭

锦树评《最年轻的麒麟》陈大为学长著，一开始就认错。（见註）

永乐多斯译《昨夜风雨》有《昨夜星辰》味道。介绍研究者。

這回是真的“告別”了﹖

[試讀初筆記]
.(not yet finished..) ﹕ P

Question followed: Is it an issue of "Politics of literary.." or "Literary Politics", re. 留台，旅苔，在台？

“大有”：

與黃同名著作何棨良詩集《刻背》﹐(當時)23歲的馬來西亞詩人﹐ “竟“然有英詩三首﹐“調”用R.Browning,Walter Scott。zhang ruixing“序”。

茲錄如下﹕
我的肉體。哦 鏡子在握面前
給予一熟悉慾望
有教授云﹕
“ ”

把一本書“切”成id, ego, superego三個部份的某部“馬華著作”﹐哪個評論家﹖﹐說是多此一舉﹐恐怕﹐並沒有說錯。

我“正在”用“心理分析”法“比較”黃錦樹黎紫書的學生﹐恐怕﹐得先“研究”這本書了。

嘆氣。詩人只是“媒介”﹖(MESSENGER)

當“詩”人的“體質” 被 改變。
The formal西南联大姚可崑编杂志原发表四首里尔克译诗keneng已轶失
不可考（从‘本土’）

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（以慰Yasmin在天之灵）

当你吻入我肩膀底幽谷/Yasmin Ahmad
- For eL and HH
当你吻入我肩膀底幽谷﹐
我双唇分離﹐却没有言语﹐
我双眼緊閉﹐却不曾更清醒﹔
我停止呼吸﹐却前所未有地活著。
今天﹐
地球脸上某个地方﹐
巨石正在陨落﹐船讯消亡。
饥饿的火在呼啸
穿越水泥建筑群的破口。
中毒的牲口擦破平原﹐
天色暗沉﹐被贪婪所塞堵。
但今晚﹐
巴生谷一间渴睡公寓裡﹐
一个短暂的瞬间﹐
每一间房里每一座鐘每一只錶
停摆。
我闻到远方的茉莉与夜来香。
我舌尖有一丝蜜糖与杏仁
以及早已失却的那些希望
的餘味。
在那短暂﹑半透明的瞬间﹐
我过往死去而起皱的皮肤
成堆褪落脚下。
这一次﹐
时间之箭偏离我﹐
众天使的气息紧抱著我﹐
当你吻我
在我肩膀底幽谷。
(Translated from "When you planted a kiss in the valley of my shoulder")
(原PO：2009-11-21 @ 10:41:40 作者為 : 依蘋
Visibility: 公開

類型: Post
4528 views

類別: Republic of Literature)

"When you planted a kiss in the valley of my shoulder" - Yasmin Ahmad
"When you planted a kiss in the valley of my shoulder,
my lips were parted, but I was not speaking;
my eyes were closed, but I was never more awake;
I stopped breathing, but I was never more alive.

Today,
somewhere along the face of the earth,
rocks are descending and ships are dying.
Hungry fires roar through the gaping mouths
of concrete dragons.
The plains are grazed by poisoned cattle
and the sky is black and choking with greed.

But tonight,
in a sleepy flat in Klang Valley,
for one brief moment,
every clock and every watch in every room
stopped moving.
I smelled distant chrysanthemum and tuberoses.
My tongue was laced with the aftertaste
of honey and almonds
and long lost hopes.
And in that brief, translucent moment,
the dead and wrinkled skin of my past
fell in a heap at my feet.

For once,
the arrows of time missed me,
the breath of angels embraced me,
when you kissed me
in the valley of my shoulder."

POSTED BY YASMIN AT 1:14 AM
(slightly modified)

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《伤心的隐喻》和《昨日遗书》同一天发布？
秋天也在那一年入狱...

副标题：史前华语马来西亚文学
(本来打算参赛的，但是怕得不到奖会丢脸，（真诚地）真的）

读邢诒旺假若不从《锈铁时代》开始那至少应该从《恋歌》。但我并不了解这个诗人。此刻当下，这个诗人的诗作可能是“马华”当中最“后现代”之一。
这个诗人，他以前的老师黄琦旺代序过•马华“愤怒派”诗人吕育陶看好过•诗人木焱‘笔谈’过。“螺旋终站”后，这名在自己的第一本诗集附记陈述“为何写诗”的诗人又将如何？
好。为什么评论邢诒旺？张爱玲还只‘假’的承受，这孩子，诗集的作者[当时]是真的在承受。诗人总说他‘认假’，因为认真？（又扮演一次皇帝的新衣里的配角。）到头来真做假时假亦真。当然创作或只能半真半假。
就谈《恋歌》，
你是光/光/你有面目吗/
你面对黑暗/仿佛黑暗就是你的面目，（pp.84-85）
仿佛“倒过来写”，这似乎印证马华之‘史前’。
诗集有沉重，
“慢着：
他人之血/我怎能干杯”--洛夫〈他人之血〉虽是引文，不亦文字？
清新，
我可以欣喜地/接受他人的嫉妒吗〈我可以欣喜〉
（未写完的）重头戏是
《一个青年病患家的画像》不免想起都柏林人，James Joyce。诗集‘成集’时，那是最好的年龄。精液,雨,光。聂鲁达加里尔克加邢诒旺？可以是initiator 。
《恋歌》里的婴孩，是作者仿佛也是自己。这是正正心酸心疼之作，对照作者不同书同作之具佛教思想之“婴”作。对照里尔克“The Book of Hours”。
翻到前面：故地有泥，如此温柔的开始之作令人错愕（邢诒旺的语言基本很“初“）。藤蔓一诗让人质疑，诗人是否念错学校？不过，那已是后话。对如今的‘邢诒旺’老师，后悔是莫及的。
不过一个一早离家想回家的孩子？
最令人诧异的恐怕是：

往屠宰場的途中
白色 滴溜溜地滾
在眼眶
下不出一場痛快的雨
出屍無名啊　它們說
被囚的豬群
鐵籠排列在貨車稍窄
的胸口　井然
有序
飽食終日之後
遍體的積蓄
便只等著
司機走出動物局
車子興奮地卜卜
開往屠宰場去
翻看一下何时写的。1998-1999.之间。可以“参照”大陆诗人王家新的
帕斯捷尔纳克系列诗。但是，为什么？一个出生在马来西亚西海岸近海滩小镇一青年诗人，“呕”出这种“痛苦式”的，诗？

（下回分解，陆续有来】

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