Snake By D. H. Lawrence

送交者: FVCK 2022月10月30日15:02:34 于 [五 味 斋] 发送悄悄话

回  答: 蛇 由 北极雪橇 于 2022-10-30 14:05:15

By D. H. Lawrence                                             On a hot, hot day, and I in pyjamas for the heat,   I came down the steps with my pitcher             before me. He reached down from a fissure in the earth-wall in the gloom             the edge of the stone trough And where the water had dripped from the tap, in a small clearness, Softly drank through his straight gums, into his slack long body,   And I, like a second-comer, waiting. He lifted his head from his drinking, as cattle do, And flickered his two-forked tongue from his lips, and mused And stooped and drank a little more,             of the earth   He must be killed,             are venomous. And voices in me said, If you were a man   How glad I was he had come like a guest in quiet, to drink And depart peaceful, pacified, and thankless,   Was it perversity, that I longed to talk to him? I felt so honoured. And yet those voices:   But even so, honoured still more From out the dark door of the secret earth. He drank enough And flickered his tongue like a forked night on the air, so black, And looked around like a god, unseeing, into the air, And slowly, very slowly, as if thrice adream, And climb again the broken bank of my wall-face. And as he put his head into that dreadful hole,             and entered farther,             that horrid black hole,             himself after,   I picked up a clumsy log   But suddenly that part of him that was left behind convulsed Writhed like lightning, and was gone At which, in the intense still noon, I stared with fascination. And immediately I regretted it. I despised myself and the voices of my accursed human education. And I thought of the albatross,   Like a king in exile, uncrowned in the underworld,   Of life. A pettiness.

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