Chapter 54 "Lampburner"①

(Malta) Anton Buttigieg Lamplighter When the power of day and dusk faded away together, Ma Yixi came with a small ladder; he lit the little street lamp under the window for me to eliminate the darkness of night.My strength is also failing every day; ①The author of "Lampburner" is the President of the Republic of Malta.Born in 1912, he graduated from the University of Malta with a doctorate in law in 1940. The Republic of Malta was proclaimed in 1974 and was elected as its second president in 1976. In July 1978, Comrade Geng Biao led a Chinese government delegation to visit Malta. President Buttigieg presented the English translation of the poetry anthology "Lampburner" (the original poem is in Maltese, written by the famous Maltese novelist and playwright Franc Sith Ebechier translated into English) as a souvenir.After Comrade Geng Biao brought it back to China, he asked Bing Xin to translate this collection of poems into Chinese.But the gentle Muse climbs her little ladder each night and kindles in my heart that little lamp that eases my sorrow.It would be a sad day if Maisi wasn't there to turn on that little light, and it would make me sad if the Muse wasn't with Maisi.Dawn dawned.

The sea is open with waves.A morning light illuminates a red cloud.A rose blooms in my garden. Dawn gathers the buds of sea and clouds. Leave me the roses in the garden.Privileged poet, privileged man, God made me; I feel more than others the vastness of the blue and joyful sky; and I feel more the depth of pain.The necklace of eyes is under the tamarisk tree on the beach on the river bank, pairs of eyes lazily dodging the glare of the scorching sun, colorful like a necklace of gemstones.My John had blue eyes like spots in the sky; a black cat had green eyes like turquoise in the bay; a white rabbit had pink eyes like the purest quartz; a red and white flower A geranium had black eyes like mulberries; and a daisy had yellow eyes bordered with white.We looked at each other sleepily in the silence; Little John and I talked fairy tales of talking grass and trees; and on the sandy shore of the river under the tamarisk trees we kept talking about not being able to tell which were fables and which were no longer It's six of us.In the night the world dies; the mountains are nothing but shadows and extinguished lights; people die from the high price of war and new diseases, class hatred and cold war, prayer and faith die, and so does civilization . . . the black shroud of death... the moon from its sky-window pale-faced and dull-eyed looking down upon the corpse... Sorrow stalks the streets like a ghost!From the beach neither sea nor sky could be seen; winter clouds shrouded everything in the darkness of nothingness.Like the creator of the world, I am looking at the darkness of nothingness before the birth of light; I am listening to the long sigh of the real tens of millions of waves, just like the moaning and moaning of billions of people in the darkness at this time... Darkness Darkness and darkness...cry cry cry cry the sighs of the ugly existence of nothingness... a flash of lightning illuminates dots of green and yellow sky and red clouds and a sailing ship full of hope... To spring water!Fountains gushing from towering rocks, your destiny, like mine, is to keep singing!Sometimes a flock of sheep comes to you, drinks water and walks away, just like my heart, you sing your lonely song again in loneliness.You have a heart that comforts you and me: the heavens are with you and pour you with the fountain of song forever.Firefly Firefly, there is a bug crawling to find its home, hoping someone can show it the way; take care of it, and light it up in the dark grass so that it can find its home.In the olive grove, in the silent olive trees of St. Paul's Bay, how glad I am to wander in your woods, away from the noise of the city, to meditate and contemplate in peace!Oh, you olive tree that gives oil to bread, oil to lamps, how beautiful and friendly you are!It was in your woods that the Son of God came to rest, to meditate, to contemplate... and now I seem to see him come to your woods for the last time... My heart is like his, in this dark place of our island Hours, weighed down with deep sorrow and fear; my face dripping with sweat... Lord, if it were possible, keep my mother, Malta, from the rim of that bitter cup; bring unity to the Maltese; let We shun the Judas who for thirty silver dollars poured coldness and insensitivity into our souls; save us from the kisses of treachery!Hear my prayer, O Lord, and inspire all Maltese to pick up green olive branches, and command us all to salute freedom and Sanna with joy! ① and Sanna!

And Sana!O Lord, if it is necessary to die for the people, here I am, my Lord, ready!Temple of Venus Venus lives in a temple, a green temple ① Hebrew, meaning to praise God. —Translator built of trunks, twigs, and weeping branches In St. Anton, come to worship those temples whose dome is the vast and bright sky; A colorful felt rug with a cocoa pattern.The water of the fountain, like the holy oil in the big hanging lamp, nourishes the water lotus and the yellow stalks are like the flames of the stars supported by the round green leaves.Sunflower Sunflower!The smile on your lips is holy, your face shines like the horizon You offer your devotion to the sun!Your heart can't hold longing and burning passion You want to fly away from the earth... Tell me, where do you want to go?The winning flower is full of fragrance and the size of a sieve is the most beautiful flower that wins the first prize!And those poor buds are still green and grow on the same flower branch. They are picked off so that the flower can stand alone, bloom like a sieve and emit fragrance to win the first prize of beautiful flowers!Dream friend, you must know that before God created the beautiful world, he had a dream of fields, valleys, mountains, and rivers, just like an artist before he created.When you walk in the countryside, remember that you are walking in God's dream; tread lightly in reverence and silence, just as you follow the pianist who sweetly brings you into Chopin's dream with his instrument.

Berwang (Tyrol) Green Berwang, green fir forests tall and strong, towering over the hills; green lawns; green streets with young grass with young leaves; Pots of hydrangea; green farmer's clothes, green velvet vest, green hat and feathers on the cap, and big green iris-like eyes.Autumn leaves no, it is not enough, oh, autumn leaves, you are gradually withered, withered and withered... And the autumn wind blows you down, whirls and abandons you contemptuously, allowing people to trample you!Pearl leaves wake in the dew; silent night creates pearls; the sun lifts them up with infinite tenderness and wears them into necklaces, Roman nights I remember a Roman winter when you were caught by that incurable disease Bedridden by torment; the raindrops of the night beat the leaves; the tears of the night beat my heart.In the morning, the leaves are greener, and in the morning, my heart is more dry.Before the windmill in Holland, O Lord, may you be like a good miller Let me spin forever in your wind of grace to grind wheat to feed the poor and the hungry; O Lord, give me the shape of a windmill; The cross between heaven and earth.On the battlefield, the two armies faced each other in the trenches: the once beautiful rural farms, cottages, trees, and flower beds were gone, leaving only an old apricot tree.The apricot tree suddenly puts on the clothes of onyx, and replaces the birds that have already flown away on the desolate horizon full of pain. It sings: "Brothers, spring has come!" A solid city wall built high in Malta in 1780.The sumptuous palaces and hotels are dazzling, where knights who are suspicious of each other live.Gold chandeliers and candlesticks, and rich tapestries adorn the majestic church.In the slums of the city lived the bastard sons of the knights, penniless.Well-armed warships sailed into the port laden with stolen loot; another warship sailed out to continue the plunder.

Dungeons filled with chained slaves to suffer, starve, suffocate... Lord, bless this island nation and make it a mighty bastion of faith and culture.Sigh Lord, harder than granite, harder than bronze is the heart of man.I climbed the rope ladder to light the row of oil lamps before your sanctuary; but a cold wind blew out the lamps one by one--I lit the lamps, and the wind blew them out again, vain labor, darkness reigns !O Lord, the sun that you created for the hearts of men has failed as well as the front of your sanctuary where darkness reigns!O Lord, for the soul of man you must create a sun that shines more light and gives more warmth that will never be quenched; the sun you created seems to have grown old and lost its strength!

Don't let poison replace your sun!Lord, you seem to be saying to me sarcastically: "What can I do? Can I make human beings act against their will? "Lord, I don't know how to answer you; but the sighs of those who are hungry and sick, those who are imprisoned and oppressed, those who have died without cause in cruel wars, compel my heart to sigh before you constantly, like The sea begs for peace in stormy nights. Provenz Provenz a thousand times brings darkness and lightning Torn and wrecked, flooded and drowned, but each time at last raised a rainbow in the gray sky The language of colors speaks and brings in his heart nothing but news of beauty! He destroys the diseased leaves to make new ones sprout! Wolf Wolf is a despot who rules a small wood alone, and he is cruel; whoever does not Respect him ①Pruvenz is a weather formed by the northwest wind blowing towards the Maltese Islands, characterized by the sun rising after the shower.—Translator or expressing a different opinion He was severely punished by death.

But since the Lion came, poor Wolf was no longer a tyrant, he was reduced to a minority.So he wholeheartedly advocated freedom of thought and tolerance.I remember I remember the joyful bells of Schubert's Blessed Mary the scent of flowers My arms are tight around yours and your rosy face shines bright white shawl Dragging through the aisles of the church; the lights of the carriages shining and the sound of horses' hoofs passing by The eagerly waiting people at our door looking at our beauty our love; the rain of rice falling silently on us; then the champagne Effortlessly spewing white foam cakes like a white tower, half-drunk friends and neighbors doing foxtrot, tango and waltz; Alone in front of the lights Me and you You and me!I'm all yours and you're all mine as Adam and Eve were; one heart, one breath you sleep and I sleep too, make a joy and joy of endless bliss shine and shine luck and peace dream!I remember the mournful bells the scent of flowers in the wreath, the candlesticks and the two-row line of orphans singing the names of our Lord and Our Lady singing requiem songs; Watching your youth at the door Your beauty is so quickly settled in the coffin; the sound of hooves slowly walking past the stele being pulled Graves, bones, maggots, ropes creaking under the weight of the coffin Shoveling mud on the graveyard The sound of flowers on the tomb; then, going home It's been prayers and rosaries Waiting for friends and neighbors to gradually walk out the door Only we are alone in our home before the light of the Madonna Me and the emptiness and the emptiness and I !I cry for emptiness beside the double bed prepared for nothing...to joy, joy, I light the lamp, spread the blanket, put flowers in the vase, open the door again, and stand on the steps To welcome you as you pass by.

You walk by, I keep my eyes on you, I sing you a song, but you walk by nonchalantly, not once or twice but every time you stare at me and spit on my heart , as if my heart were the worst whore. I live alone without you; in my empty house, in my hard life, I have tasted the joys of patient work, and sacrifice!Lake Constance Lake Constance is in the heart of Gedenberg, if the former rulers have forced our fathers to shed the blood of the lake's people twice in a century with greed and ambition, now you use your sweet water to make Let's forget our hatred Baptize us Let's be brothers again Let's swim together Let's walk on Your shore paths Let's eat Your good food Let's play in Your fields Brothers of white geese, brothers of ducks, frogs Your brethren cry in the swamp in the ecstasy of courtship, your countless tree brethren, your bird brethren—the thieves who eat your cherries—but above all is the Brethren who live in civilization, brothers who live in democracy, brothers who live in liberty, brothers who live in love and peace, brothers who desire progress, brothers who live in Europe, brothers who live in humanity, around My brethren in the world where the sun revolves in the sky.The fire in my heart O Lord, you have quenched the fire of my life; with death, with disease, with conscription, with the cruelty of my neighbours, you have quenched the fire of my married happiness, my family life, my The light of work, the light of my health, has left me in darkness.

O Lord, do not extinguish the fire in my heart, the fire of patience, the fire of hope, the fire of forgiveness, the fire of love; let my fire, like a firefly, shine alone in the dark.Two singers A sallow-faced singer in rags with his guitar goes round the bars at night; in each bar he sings a song or two and he turns around the tables holding A plate... I know a singer like him!I recognize the cicada in colorless clothes basking in the hot summer sun, flying from tree to tree full of fruit, singing a song or two.Oh, how I should like to see those trees throw something on his plate! which of them?A tired old man in ragged drudgery bent his back, holding a plow and following a bony donkey... Lord, which of them embodies your image? ①The sowers of the stars gather up the clouds of dust in autumn, and bury the stars in the grave of the sky like germinated seeds ①Written when Strasbourg was debating the "Second Ten-Year Development Plan". — translator.

Like being buried in the ground.The fine weather is back and the stars are blooming like wild chamomiles in the heath.In front of a thorny field, on a large piece of grass-covered land, the cows ate up all the grass, not a single leaf or root was left. It can't be seen that this place has ever grown vegetation!Only you remain, ferocious briar, for to greedy lips you draw your sword from the leaf like a sword from a stronghold! Let them taunt you, O prickly thorn, let them call you the curse of God; let them hate you till your terror comes upon them! Be like that prickly thorn, people of Malta, and not be like that kind straw, kind and humble enough to fill the insatiable belly of the gringo!The sea in Malta is in Malta, and every time I look around I see the sea looking at me with his blue eyes.When grandpa entered the nursing home Dear grandpa, I still remember the day you went to the nursing home, even though it was a long time ago more than forty years ago, I still feel like today!

Your money is gone, and your children's wages are not enough to support you.In your prime you worked hard on land and sea, and a hundred times you nearly drowned in the sea!But your hard-earned wages fall into the pockets of your employers, and you're always poor enough to barely make ends meet.If you really wanted to, you could sell the house and live with it for a few more years, but you don't want to see us kicked out of the house you built with your sweat; so you'd rather live in a nursing home where it's wet and cold Leaving your loved ones in a big asylum full of all sorts of bad smells.The day has come; you get up early put on your sandals and your best clothes and pack your bags and you go downstairs... Silence and silence fell like death... Every word uttered pierces that pained heart , you just said: "I'm leaving." My mother, for her own comfort and for yours, said: "I'm going to see you this Sunday." You left the house; I ran after you even though you didn't want to... I remember... when you left home, you stopped five steps away, you turned your head Come, look at the home you love, where your wife died, where you raised your children, where you played with our children and told us stories about our Malta, and you looked at it With one last look, you bid it your last farewell.Sometimes how strong a man's heart is to go on living and beating, never stopping, just forcing him to swallow all the pain in life!We walked together until we got to the bus and you said to me: "Go, my boy, God bless you." I burst into tears, and my little cry tore your heart, and two big tears fell from your eyes.You clutched your handkerchief and stepped onto the bus slowly I stood there watching the bus go smaller and smaller and farther and farther until it disappeared completely!Life and the newlyweds live all the smiles around the newlyweds.Life for them is only joy, music, dance and song, scattered rice grains, good wishes and wish them long life and happiness.Around them there were many people drinking to the brim with good wine.Life never reveals everything about their future. All life is about dancing and jumping in the air... Hypocrites!Double-faced!Beautiful and beautiful, as beautiful as an angel, she lights up a street.One has to admit that heaven would not be complete without her... She walked with her husband but people whispered about them as they walked by.O beautiful flower, beautiful flower We picked you from the garden, tied you up with a rope and put you in a vase, so, like a slave, you showed us that there is happiness in our family but here is Couldn't find it at all.The man he had brought rumors were circulating in Paradise that at three o'clock this day the Son of God would return from the world; curiosity arose among the angels as to what kind of man he would bring.The angels prepare for the next feast, which is carols and songs and melodies of bliss; all awaiting the hour, and every one guesses what he will bring. At last the gates opened; the Son of God came in, bruised and bloody... In the arms of God, under the watchful eyes of angels, the man was a thief.Swedish archipelago On a yacht, I walked through the Swedish archipelago, and enjoyed a feast of blue and emerald green in the magic of the archipelago!If joy had wings I would take flight, and with the yacht, up into the air among the islands of clouds--a feast of blue and white, and seek what my heart longs for. No, no, dream not, my heart, let the magic of the sea charm you, and let the spray that splashes on your face refresh you. Let yourself swing on countless boats, just like being with seagulls, together with pieces of white sails, return to anchor in the harbor, rest and sleep in silence and tranquility.Sometimes when I'm tired, tiredness makes me sick of all wishes for trees, birds, waves and clouds, any kind of good; I long for freedom of any kind!But, gentle Muse, you come to me on such a dark day and lift me up on your wings through the stratus to your clear and bright sky; Beside my mother who sang to me tender songs of patience and love.Shakespeare and Dante Shakespeare and Dante met after death in a tavern, I don't know where; they said they were happy with the Muses, but they were so bad with the women !The lamp sun said: "I will sink and disappear; oh, who will light up the world after I go? Who will it be?" No one spoke; only the lamp spoke: "Sun, don't be afraid, I will shine for you!" Dog On the roof of a farmhouse A dog, with red eyes, kept barking at the moon; at last, when darkness came, the dog fell asleep, thinking happily It is it that scares the moon away from the sky.Two sisters Two sisters came from the street, one wearing a tall black turban and a long black skirt showing the emblem of the church; the other was a prostitute with a short skirt wrapped around her slender thighs.The two of them walked down the street with sweet smiles, and their faces expressed anticipation. One looked at the benevolent face of the Virgin Mary, and the other looked at the American sailors.The haiku python's lair is under a rock - full of warmth and love.Hua'er, don't tell me your and my friend's surnames, I will completely forget them. A With the first shower the snails come out and swim around like a children's festival. A breeze touches me and reminds me of a mother's hand when I was a child. A If love could be seen like beauty, who would hate to see it? A my lord, did you see Armstrong ① mid-moon? Is it on TV? AThe streets of Malta are all named after saints—the devil lives in them. A I love to hear the sound of rain, how I wish I could hear the sound of dew! ① American astronauts. - Translator The Sleep of Death They scourged him, wounded him and crucified him, they drove nails into his arms and into his feet, they pressed a crown of thorns on his head, they used The spear had pierced his heart... But now he was dead; he slept in a sleep of eternal death, and there hung his body; he could not feel his own weight.Cruelty had to stop, it could do nothing to him; he was sleeping in a sleep of eternal death!Not a single tear came suddenly one day death took you away, I was alone in a foreign land with no help, no sympathy, I did not cry... I left your grave without a tear in my eye, not a sob on my lips, not a single An elegy, as if the blood had dried up... The tragedy of my dear Connie's life drained the tear ducts from my eyes, the song from my lips, I was always like a guitar with a broken string.I always stare blankly, like a dead thistle with wide purple eyes on the bare meadows that were once green with the beauty of spring and are now burned with the fires of hot summer!Balloons and Tulips—I saw Monica Strassneri's paintings. I saw your paintings in the paintings. You put balloons instead of flowers on the branches.How beautiful the colorful balloons looked in the place of the tulips! Like you I have thought: who knows that God who loves children is not also a child and the tulips are his balloons!In the royal palace in Munich, Herma, one of the most beautiful girls, the poor daughter; she made dolls and sold them on street corners, and she was seen by the queen who bought dolls for children.She was seen by the king and at the age of seventeen she became his doll, one of thirty-six dolls in rich and colorful clothes in the palace.People bought tickets to enter the palace to watch, admire and tell the story.Dedicated to my father You, on your deathbed, wishing for my consolation, asked those who gathered round your bed: "Tony, where is he?" I am far away for the call of duty; you die without my consolation; you call out: "Tony, where is he?" left a scar on my heart, a huge scar, that you didn't see me when you died; you cried out in despair: "Tony, where is he?" I tried the medicine of State Affairs to heal my wounds; but to no avail, I kept hearing the call in my ears: "Tony, where is he?" A person who has never cried is not a person who has never experienced grief!How could he be a man if he had never wept, if he had never shed a tear for the cruelty of the world, for so many who lived and died in sin or torture? Sometimes it's sad to look around you!Only from your disappointed heart can your hand full of mercy reach out and make you one among men.Dead soul, old woman, I have seen you, in your coffin; your daughter weeping beside you, her soul harder than your body; a soul festered by obscene words, yet more obscene His deeds fill man with horrors worse than death.Beggar For you Malta, my mother, I traveled all over Europe and the world begging.I've knocked on all the doors and some people will open and give you food and water and even some assistance. Some people just say to me, "God help you." Some people hurriedly slammed the door shut.Along the endless road I endured fatigue, and disillusionment, and above all felt the pangs of shame; but I also felt what every beggar feels when he is dying of exhaustion and finally carries a sack of bread to him. Joy and happiness at the door of the starving mother.To my aunt you were born beautiful with no mind and no sense...you are a burden and no one loves you they treat you like a door shoe mat and they only give you food to sustain your body and mind...finally You were sent to the "Yingqi Lei", ① old age, dementia... You died alone They treated you like a beggar You didn't even have a covering cloth in your coffin... No one came to accompany you except me; I'm just a poor student ①A nursing home run by the Maltese government. — translator. But I'm not ashamed of your poverty... I'm the only one in the world with my heart, loving you... and my tears.From the hill of the cemetery, gloomy and silent beside the cross, his eyes on his scars, I ask all who live and exist: "Why? Why?" Shepherd When I was a child in my hometown village, I saw a kind old shepherd grazing in the sunset on a fallow field.Now I am grown up In my native village I go again to the fallow fields; I see neither the shepherd nor the flock.Maybe one day in the next life I'll see the shepherd and his flock worshiping around the trough.I am like a doll, a little doll in a child's hand, sometimes she kisses it and cherishes it, sometimes she abuses it;I'm also like a doll in people's hands. Sometimes they love me and cherish me; sometimes they abuse me; when they get tired they throw me aside.But I'm a doll who has feelings and feels pain and can cry and feel pain when abused; but also like a doll Why do I care how people treat me when I die and don't feel pain anymore!Thirty trees in Plaza Frey Diego, thirty slums surrounding the square, where, at night, after a hard day's work, sleepy birds sleep, the branches of the trees, the people beneath them are so filthy.Twelve green benches sat the people who lived in the nearby slums after a hard day's work, the people who hung out the washed clothes from the windows and drenched the people under the windows... the old people in the old people's home moaned complain to the nuns, or beg for a penny or two for cigars.Frei Diego lived forever in the middle of the square with the poor; the sparrows, the poor in the slums, the old abandoned, all crowded in the square chattering, complaining, and a heap of hazelnut shells.Mary the Mulberry Seller, the peasant girl, passed by selling mulberries in clay pots; but the most beautiful of the mulberries were her iris-like black shining eyes on her brown face!The body of the mulberry picker is covered with red stains of sweet juice. As the saying goes, just as the mulberry is painted on the outside, it is also painted on the inside; every stroke is added with a drop of blood. How sweet!Mary, Mary, did you get those iris-like black eyes and the color of mulberries from mulberries?Did not that sweetness that permeates your slender body and that torments the hearts of those who behold you come from that black sweetness that flows gaily through the trunk and boughs of the mulberry tree?Get up early every morning and pick us a jar of mulberries from the tree above your house; bring your eyes, your hair, your cheeks, all of this All from the mulberry tree as tall as your house, Through the dirty city streets, Bring us a jar of mulberries in your hair, And health and happiness that grows from your house! If you have but six cents left... Friend, if you have but six cents in your pocket, buy yourself a loaf of bread for three cents; a fragrant handful with the rest will fill you with new Daffodils of hope.