求:《向左走,向右走》这部电影的一首诗
2个回答
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他们彼此深信,
是瞬间迸发的热情让他俩相遇。
这样的确定是美丽的,
但变幻无常更为美丽。
他们素未无面,所以他们确定彼此并无轇轕。
但是自街道、楼梯、大堂传来的话语。
他们也许擦肩而过一百万次了吧?
我想问他们
是否记得——
在旋转门
面对面那一刹?
或是在人群中喃喃道出的「对不起」?
或是在电话的另一端道出「打错了」?
但是我早知道答案。
是的。他们并不记得。
他们会很惊讶,原来缘分已经戏弄他们多年。
时机尚未成熟变成他们的命运,
缘分将他们拉近,驱离,
阻挡著他们的去路
忍著笑声
然后闪到一旁.......
《一见钟情》(节录) 辛波丝卡
Love At First Sight
both are convinced
that a sudden surge of emotion bound them together.
beautiful is such a certainty,
but uncertainty is more beautiful.
because they didn\'t know each other earlier, they suppose that
nothing was happening between them.
what of the streets, stairways and corridors
where they could have passed each other long ago?
i\'d like to ask them
whether they remember-- perhaps in a revolving door
ever being face to face?
an "excuse me" in a crowd
or a voice "wrong number" in the receiver.
but i know their answer:
no, they don\'t remember.
they\'d be greatly astonished
to learn that for a long time
chance had been playing with them.
not yet wholly ready
to transform into fate for them
it approached them, then backed off,
stood in their way
and, suppressing a giggle,
jumped to the side.
there were signs, signals:
but what of it if they were illegible.
perhaps three years ago,
or last tuesday
did a certain leaflet fly
from shoulder to shoulder?
there was something lost and picked up.
who knows but what it was a ball
in the bushes of childhood.
there were doorknobs and bells
on which earlier
touch piled on touch.
bags beside each other in the luggage room.
perhaps they had the same dream on a certain night,
suddenly erased after waking.
every beginning
is but a continuation,
and the book of events
is never more than half open.
-wislawa szymborska
是瞬间迸发的热情让他俩相遇。
这样的确定是美丽的,
但变幻无常更为美丽。
他们素未无面,所以他们确定彼此并无轇轕。
但是自街道、楼梯、大堂传来的话语。
他们也许擦肩而过一百万次了吧?
我想问他们
是否记得——
在旋转门
面对面那一刹?
或是在人群中喃喃道出的「对不起」?
或是在电话的另一端道出「打错了」?
但是我早知道答案。
是的。他们并不记得。
他们会很惊讶,原来缘分已经戏弄他们多年。
时机尚未成熟变成他们的命运,
缘分将他们拉近,驱离,
阻挡著他们的去路
忍著笑声
然后闪到一旁.......
《一见钟情》(节录) 辛波丝卡
Love At First Sight
both are convinced
that a sudden surge of emotion bound them together.
beautiful is such a certainty,
but uncertainty is more beautiful.
because they didn\'t know each other earlier, they suppose that
nothing was happening between them.
what of the streets, stairways and corridors
where they could have passed each other long ago?
i\'d like to ask them
whether they remember-- perhaps in a revolving door
ever being face to face?
an "excuse me" in a crowd
or a voice "wrong number" in the receiver.
but i know their answer:
no, they don\'t remember.
they\'d be greatly astonished
to learn that for a long time
chance had been playing with them.
not yet wholly ready
to transform into fate for them
it approached them, then backed off,
stood in their way
and, suppressing a giggle,
jumped to the side.
there were signs, signals:
but what of it if they were illegible.
perhaps three years ago,
or last tuesday
did a certain leaflet fly
from shoulder to shoulder?
there was something lost and picked up.
who knows but what it was a ball
in the bushes of childhood.
there were doorknobs and bells
on which earlier
touch piled on touch.
bags beside each other in the luggage room.
perhaps they had the same dream on a certain night,
suddenly erased after waking.
every beginning
is but a continuation,
and the book of events
is never more than half open.
-wislawa szymborska
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