HOLD ON TIGHT

HE SAID, MARIE, MARIE, HOLD ON TIGHT And when we were children, staying at the archduke's, My cousin's, he took me out on a sled, And I was frightened. He said, Marie, Marie, hold on tight. And down we went. In the mountains, there you feel free. I read, much of the night, and go south in the winter. ~ The Waste Land, "The Burial of The Dead", Eliot Saturday, January 27, 2007 trainstop (not sure if i got the translation right) 天使在地下入口跟我说再见的那一年，我渐渐看不见了。十五岁生日的秋天早晨，窗外下着毛毛细雨，我喂好我的猫六点零五分我走地下铁 - jimmy, sound of colours (the year the angel said goodbye to me at the entrance of the train station was the year i gradually stopped seeing. the day i turned 15 on an autumn morning, it was drizzling outside. i fed my cat, and at 5.55, i walked into the subway.) posted by dawn # 11:47 AM Comments: Post a Comment << Home		[publishing] Publishers Weekly . Dystel & Goderich . New York Center for Independent Publishing . Association of American University Presses . Society of Children's Book Writers and Illustrators [people] clarisse . nurul . aunty zarina (ummi's bakery) . jeremy . pak . cyril . softblow . karen & kenny (booksactually) . eric . joel . [other loves] digitaljournalist . ballet dictionary . poetshouse . urbanwordnyc [me] dawn, singapore, new york city, ithaca. [yesterday] the wages of dying is love MMMMMMM SPLITPAPAYAS IVAdrienne Rich:who watch for my mistakes in gramm... Its four in the morning, the end of DecemberI'm wr... lightness and heaviness [archives] January 2007 February 2007 March 2007 April 2007 May 2007 July 2007 August 2007 September 2007 October 2007 November 2007 December 2007 January 2008 February 2008 March 2008 April 2008 May 2008 June 2008 July 2008 August 2008 September 2008 October 2008 November 2008 December 2008 January 2009 February 2009

HE SAID, MARIE, MARIE, HOLD ON TIGHT

And when we were children, staying at the archduke's,
My cousin's, he took me out on a sled,
And I was frightened. He said, Marie,
Marie, hold on tight. And down we went.
In the mountains, there you feel free.
I read, much of the night, and go south in the winter.

~ The Waste Land, "The Burial of The Dead", Eliot

Saturday, January 27, 2007

trainstop (not sure if i got the translation right)

天使在地下入口
跟我说再见的那一年，
我渐渐看不见了。

十五岁生日的秋天早晨，
窗外下着毛毛细雨，
我喂好我的猫
六点零五分
我走地下铁

- jimmy, sound of colours

(the year the angel said goodbye to me at the entrance of the train station was the year i gradually stopped seeing. the day i turned 15 on an autumn morning, it was drizzling outside. i fed my cat, and at 5.55, i walked into the subway.)

posted by dawn # 11:47 AM

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