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奥克塔维奥·帕斯(1914-1998),墨西哥诗人、散文家。生于墨西哥城。帕斯的创作融合了拉美本土文化及西班牙语系的文学传统,继承欧洲现代主义的形而上追索以及用语言创造自由境界的信念。1990年由于“他的作品充满激情,视野开阔,渗透着感悟的智慧并体现了完美的人道主义”而获得诺贝尔文学奖 ...

Last Dawn

[墨西哥] 帕斯

Your hair is lost in the forest,
your feet touching mine.
Asleep you are bigger than the night,
but your dream fits within this room.
How much we are who are so little!
Outside a taxi passes
with its load of ghosts.
The river that runs by
is always
running back.
Will tomorrow be another day?

The Street

[墨西哥] 帕斯

Here is a long and silent street.
I walk in blackness and I stumble and fall
and rise, and I walk blind, my feet
trampling the silent stones and the dry leaves.
Someone behind me also tramples, stones, leaves:
if I slow down, he slows;
if I run, he runs I turn : nobody.
Everything dark and doorless,
only my steps aware of me,
I turning and turning among these corners
which lead forever to the street
where nobody waits for, nobody follows me,
where I pursue a man who stumbles
and rises and says when he sees me : nobody.


[墨西哥] 帕斯

I am a man: little do I last
and the night is enormous.
But I look up:
the stars write.
Unknowing I understand:
I too am written,
and at this very moment
someone spells me out.


[墨西哥] 帕斯

No center, no above, no below
Ceaselessly devouring and engendering itself
Whirlpool space
And drop into height
Clarities steeply cut
By the night's flank
Black gardens of rock crystal
Flowering on a rod of smoke
White gardens exploding in the air
One space opening up
And dissolving
Space in space
All is nowhere
Place of impalpable nuptials


[墨西哥] 帕斯

My hands
Open the curtains of your being
Clothe you in a further nudity
Uncover the bodies of your body
My hands
Invent another body for your body


[墨西哥] 帕斯

More than air
More than water
More than lips
Light light

Your body is the trace of your body


[墨西哥] 帕斯

I turn the page of the day,
writing what I'm told
by the motion of your eyelashes.

I enter you,
the truthfulness of the dark.
I want proofs of darkness, want
to drink the black wine:
take my eyes and crush them.

A drop of night
on your breast's tip:
mysteries of the carnation.

Closing my eyes
I open them inside your eyes.

Always awake
on its garnet bed:
your wet tongue.

There are fountains
in the garden of your veins.

With a mask of blood
I cross your thoughts blankly:
amnesia guides me
to the other side of life.


[墨西哥] 帕斯

Through the conduits of blood
my body in your body
spring of night
my tongue of sun in your forest
your body a kneading trough
I red wheat
Through conduits of bone
I night I water
I forest that moves forward
I tongue
I body
I sun-bone
Through the conduits of night
spring of bodies
You night of wheat
you forest in the sun
you waiting water
you kneading trough of bones
Through the conduits of sun
my night in your night
my sun in your sun
my wheat in your kneading trough
your forest in my tongue
Through the conduits of the body
water in the night
your body in my body
Spring of bones
Spring of suns




  1. 拿破仑赫鲁伯
  2. 风暴普希金
  3. 音乐希梅内斯
  4. 致西风歌德
  5. 自由与爱情裴多菲
  6. 俳句选(一)正冈子规
  7. 路上的秘密特兰斯特罗默
  8. 致大海普希金
  9. 空气阿莱桑德雷
  10. 昨天阿莱桑德雷