第三个纽约
表面来看，或者很多城市都差不多，一样有摩天大楼，一样有地铁，一样有满溢的消费主义；从某高度来看，你可以说众生如一，但天使与魔鬼，都在细节中。
美国作家E.B White 说，纽约其实有三个，第一个是土生土长的纽约，这些人从开始便把纽约的大小，动荡接受为自然及必然；第二个是通勤者的纽约，这些人忙于工作，大多数每天从亚城区的隧道口、火车卡倾吐出来，晚间有回到他们的巢穴栖息地，少有对城市作漫不经心的发现，第三个则是属于那些来自他方、来此地追寻什么的纽约。
The only people that interest me are the mad ones,the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk,desirous of everything at the same time, the ones that never yawn or say a commonplace thing..but burn burn like roman candles accross the night .
Jack Kerouac, On the Road
人群与孤独，对于一个活跃多产的诗人来说，这是两个同义语，他们可以相互代替，谁不会使孤独充满人群，谁就不会在繁忙的人群中独立存在。
《人群》
Another generation's parties
And it is still the same old scene
I can recall each morning after
painted in nicotine
This time
When I go back to Lulow Street
I find each stoop and doorway's in complete
without you there
Suzanne Vega
Hart Cran The Brooklyn Bridge
How many dawns, chill from his rippling rest
The seagull's wings shal dip and pivot them
Shedding whit rings of tumult, building high
Over the chained bay waters Liberty
Then, with inviolate curve, forsake our eyes
as appartional as sails that cross
some page of figures to be filled away
till elevators drop from us feom our day
My candles
My candle burns at both ends
it will not last the night
but ah, my foes, and oh my friends
it gives a lovely light
the death and life of great american cities
Jane Jacobs
ballet of sidewalks
In the subway of New York
OVERSLEPT
SO TIRED
IF LATE
GET FIRED
WHY BOTHER?
WHY THE PAIN
JUST GO HOME
DO IT AGAIN
The New Colossus Emma Lazarus
Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame
with conquering limbs astride from land to land
Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand
A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame
Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name
Mother of Exiles.From her beacon-hand
Glows world-wide welcome, her mild eyes command
The air-bridge harbor that twin cities frame
Keep ancient lands ,your storied pomp! cries she
with silent lips"Give me your tired, your poor
huddled masses yearning to breathe free
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore
Shed these, the homeless,tempest-lost to me
I lift my lamp beside the golden door
brazen 黄铜
astride 两腿分开
beacon 灯塔
pomp 繁华
huddle 一团乱
yearning 渴望
teeming 丰富的
tempest 暴风雨
于此，宗教成了一个形式，一个掏空了内容的器皿，可以放进任何东西，包容一切，可以是宗教世俗化折衷化的极致神话。
你知电视欺骗性第一和最大的罪是它的简化，他将大和复杂的一年、时间的壕沟缩小；所有的作为都被约成单独的快照。
美国作家E.B White 说，纽约其实有三个，第一个是土生土长的纽约，这些人从开始便把纽约的大小，动荡接受为自然及必然；第二个是通勤者的纽约，这些人忙于工作，大多数每天从亚城区的隧道口、火车卡倾吐出来，晚间有回到他们的巢穴栖息地，少有对城市作漫不经心的发现，第三个则是属于那些来自他方、来此地追寻什么的纽约。
The only people that interest me are the mad ones,the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk,desirous of everything at the same time, the ones that never yawn or say a commonplace thing..but burn burn like roman candles accross the night .
Jack Kerouac, On the Road
人群与孤独，对于一个活跃多产的诗人来说，这是两个同义语，他们可以相互代替，谁不会使孤独充满人群，谁就不会在繁忙的人群中独立存在。
《人群》
Another generation's parties
And it is still the same old scene
I can recall each morning after
painted in nicotine
This time
When I go back to Lulow Street
I find each stoop and doorway's in complete
without you there
Suzanne Vega
Hart Cran The Brooklyn Bridge
How many dawns, chill from his rippling rest
The seagull's wings shal dip and pivot them
Shedding whit rings of tumult, building high
Over the chained bay waters Liberty
Then, with inviolate curve, forsake our eyes
as appartional as sails that cross
some page of figures to be filled away
till elevators drop from us feom our day
My candles
My candle burns at both ends
it will not last the night
but ah, my foes, and oh my friends
it gives a lovely light
the death and life of great american cities
Jane Jacobs
ballet of sidewalks
In the subway of New York
OVERSLEPT
SO TIRED
IF LATE
GET FIRED
WHY BOTHER?
WHY THE PAIN
JUST GO HOME
DO IT AGAIN
The New Colossus Emma Lazarus
Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame
with conquering limbs astride from land to land
Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand
A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame
Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name
Mother of Exiles.From her beacon-hand
Glows world-wide welcome, her mild eyes command
The air-bridge harbor that twin cities frame
Keep ancient lands ,your storied pomp! cries she
with silent lips"Give me your tired, your poor
huddled masses yearning to breathe free
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore
Shed these, the homeless,tempest-lost to me
I lift my lamp beside the golden door
brazen 黄铜
astride 两腿分开
beacon 灯塔
pomp 繁华
huddle 一团乱
yearning 渴望
teeming 丰富的
tempest 暴风雨
于此，宗教成了一个形式，一个掏空了内容的器皿，可以放进任何东西，包容一切，可以是宗教世俗化折衷化的极致神话。
你知电视欺骗性第一和最大的罪是它的简化，他将大和复杂的一年、时间的壕沟缩小；所有的作为都被约成单独的快照。
