Th? M?-m?t th?i ?áng nh? (K? 1: Elizabeth Alexander và Bruce Bawer)

Kh? Im

L?i Gi?i Thi?u

Nh th? Kh? Im v cng trnh Th? M?-m?t th?i ?ng nh? (American Poetry-A Memorable time)


B?n ??c t?ng bi?t ??n Kh? Im trong t? cch ch? soi c?a tro l?u th? Tn hnh th?c, tc gi? c?a nh?ng tc ph?m th? (Con ???ng th?) v Ti?u lu?n ph bnh (V? ?i?u khng v?n).

D?p ny, chng ti nh?n ???c cng trnh m?i c?a ng: Th? M?-m?t th?i ?ng nh? .

?y l ?n b?n song ng? nh?m gi?i thi?u m?t s? nh th? M?, g?m 2 ph?n:

-Ph?n 1: Nh?ng thin th?n n?i lo?n

-Ph?n 2: Th? T? do.

Trong L?i b?t, Kh? Im tin r?ng, cng trnh ny s? gip cho ng??i ??c: h?c h?i thm, khng nh?ng v? ngn ng? v v?n ha m cn ti?p thu ???c cch lm th?, nh?n ra s? khc bi?t gi?a 2 dng th?, h?c h?i kinh nghi?m c?a nh?ng nh th? M? v lm giu cho th? Vi?t. Theo ng:??c song ng? l m?t ti?n trnh h? t??ng, qua b?n chnh, ng??i ??c c khuynh h??ng ?i tm b?n d?ch v ng??c l?i, qua b?n d?ch ng??i ??c s? quay l?i ??c b?n chnh.  ng cho r?ng: Th? gi?i ?ang thu nh? v m?i n?n v?n ha l nh?ng ng??i anh em, cng m?t m? nhn lo?i, c?n chia s? v c?m thng, chung s?ng trong an bnh v lm cu?c ??i thm h??ng s?c.

Xin c?m ?n nh th? ? tin c?y g?i b?n th?o v cho php chng ti l?n l??t gi?i thi?u ??n b?n ??c th? c?a nh?ng nh th? M? m ng tuy?n ch?n.

                                                                                                V?n Vi?t



Elizabeth Alexander




                                                Those Great Lake Winds

                                                blow all around:

                                                Im a light-coat man

                                                in a heavy-coat town.

                                                                        Waring Cuney


Yellow freesia arc like twining arms;

Im buying shower curtains, smoke alarms,

And Washington, and you, Love states away.

The clouds are flat. The sky is going grey.


Im fiddling with the juice jug, honey pot,

White chrysanthmums that I just bought.

At home, there is a violet, 3-D moon

And pachysandra vines for me to prune,


And old men with checkered shirts, suspenders,

Paper bags and Cutty bottles, menders

Of frayed things and balding summer lawns,

Watching TV baseball, shelling prawns.

The women that we love! Their slit-eyed ways

Of telling us to mind, pop-eyed dismays.

We need these folks, each one of them. We do.

The insides of my wrists still ache with you.


Does the South watch over wandering ones

Under different moons and different suns?

I have my mothers copper ramekin,

A cigar box to keep your letters in.


At least the swirl ceilings are very high,

And the Supers rummy, sort of sly.

I saw a slate-branched tree sway from the roots.

Ive got to buy some proper, winter boots.


So many boxes! Crates and crates of books.

I must get oil soap, bleach, and picture hooks.

A sidewalk crack in Washington, D.C.

Will feed my city dirt roots. Wait for me.





                                                Gi ? H? L?n Ny

                                                th?i kh?p n?i:

                                                Em l ng??i m?c o m?ng

                                                trong m?t th? x m?c o d?y.

                                                                                    Waring Cuney


Cy dy leo hoa vng nh? cnh tay xo?n l?i;

Em mua t?m mn che b?n t?m, my bo khi,

V Washington, v anh, Tnh yu ? xa ?y.

Nh?ng ?m my ph?ng l?ng. B?u tr?i ng? xm.


Em ?a ngh?ch v?i bnh n??c tri cy, h? m?t ong,

Hoa cc tr?ng em m?i mua.

? nh tr?ng trn mu tm

V c nh?ng cy nho cho em t?a tt,


V c nh?ng ng gi m?c o ca r, ?eo dy qu?n, mang ti gi?y

V nh?ng chai r??u Cutty, ng??i th? s?a

Nh?ng th? s?n c? v c nh?ng bi c? ma h tr? ??t,

H? ?ang coi tr?n ??u bng chy trn TV, bc v? tm th?.


Nh?ng ng??i ?n b chng ta yu! Nh?ng cch nhn hp m?t

Tun ph?c v tr? m?t ni ln s? th?t v?ng ng?c nhin.

Chng ta c?n t?t c?, m?i ng??i h?. Chng ta c?n.

Em ?au tay v vi?t th? cho anh.


C ph?i ? mi?n Nam trng ch?ng nh?ng k? lang thang

D??i m?t tr?ng khc nhau v m?t tr?i khc nhau?

Em c ci khay b?ng ??ng,

H?p thu?c l x g ??ng nh?ng l th? anh.


t nh?t nh?ng ci tr?n nh quay mng mng trn cao,

V ng??i Gim th? l tay say r??u ranh mnh.

Em th?y m?t ci cy cnh xm lung lay t? g?c.

Em ph?i mua vi ?i giy ?ng h?p v?i ma ?ng.


R?t nhi?u h?p! T?ng thng sch.

Em ph?i mua x bng l?ng, thu?c t?y, nh?ng chi?c mc treo tranh.

M?t khe n?t trn v?a h Washington, D. C.

?? cho nhu c?u h?n ch? s? ti?p c?n thin nhin. Hy ??i em.




Empty out your pockets nigh time, Daddy.

key and pennies, pocket watch, a favored

Photograph of Ma, and orange-flavored

sucker-candies, in the dresser-caddy.


Grandpa, leaves his silver in his trousers

potions for catarrh set on the bureau,

and his Castile soap, All pure. Oh,

those oval, olive cakes for early rousers!


Babas home is different from my Daddys:

the sofa arms are draped with quiet lace,

Does he fix fish with cardamon and mace?

Coupons in a cookie tin. Meat patties,


Steaming Cream of Wheat and ripe banana,

Juice cup with the little paper hats

the guava jelly jars on plastic mats.

We are your children and receive your manna.


I see you both. I see whats in your pockets.

Coins from you, Dad. Baba? Whats for me?

Fortune cookies, child, and sacks of tea,

cigar bands and glinting, dimestore lockers.





Ban ?m Ba hy mc h?t nh?ng g trong ti ra.

Cha kha, ti?n xu, ??ng h? b? ti, t?m ?nh

ng?ai hnh c?a M?, v nh?ng chi?c k?o

ng?m mi cam, b? trong ci h?p.


ng n?i ?? nh?ng ??ng b?c trong ti qu?n di

nh?ng li?u n??c m?i ?ng ??c trn bn gi?y,

v c?c x bng Castile, T?t c? cn nguyn. i,

nh?ng chi?c bnh ng?t liu hnh b?u d?c cho k? th?c s?m!


Nh c?a ng b n?i khc v?i nh Ba ti:

nh?ng tay gh? x pha ???c ph? ??ng ten trang nh

ng c c kho v?i h??ng li?u g?ng v h?t d??

Phi?u b?t gi trong h?p bnh bch qui. Nhn th?t xay,


Bnh ng? c?c Cream of Wheat h?p v chu?i chn,

ly n??c Tri cy v?i chi?c nn gi?y nh?

nh?ng l? m?t ?i trn mi?ng ??m lt b?ng nh?a trn bn.

Chng ta l con chu v nh?n bnh thnh c?a Ba v ng b n?i.


Ti th?y c? hai. Ti th?y nh?ng g trong ti Ba.

Nh?ng ??ng c?c c?a Ba, c?a ng b n?i? Ci g cho con?

Nh?ng chi?c bnh bch qui r?i may, ??a tr?, v nh?ng b? tr

nh?ng b?ng x g v t? ??ng ?? l?p lnh r? ti?n.




                        Come on and slant your eyes again, O Buffalo Bill.

                                                                                    Carl Sandburg


Colored cowboy named Nat Love,

They called him Deadwood Dick.

A black thatch of snakes for hair,

Closed-mouthed. Bullet-hipped.


One knee bent like his rifle butt,

Just so. Rope. Saddle. Fringe.

Knock this white boy off my shoulder.

Stone-jawed, cheekboned man.


Mama, there are black cowboys.

A fistful of black crotch.

Deadwood Dick: Dont fuck with me.

Black cowboy. Leather hat.



                                    C? ln v li?c m?t l?n n?a, i Buffalo Bill

                                                                                    Carl Sandburg


Cao b?i ?en tn Nat Love,

Chng g?i h?n l Deadwood Dick.

Tc qu?n ?en nh? r?n,

Mi?ng mm ch?t. Cm nhom


M?t ??u g?i cong nh? bng sng,

?ng th?. Dy th?ng. Yn ng?a. Vi?n tua.

Ch?i ch?t g tr?ng ny ?i

Hm tr?. G m cao.


M, c nh?ng cao b?i ?en.

M?t nhm ng??i ?en.

Deadwood Dick: ??ng ki?m chuy?n v?i tao.

Cao b?i ?en. M? da.


*Deadwood Dick, m?t nhn v?t ti?u thuy?t c?a tc gi? Edward Lytton Wheeler (1854 – 1885). Cn Nat Love (1854 – 1921), m?t cao b?i da ?en M?.



*Elizabeth Alexander (b. 1962) published her first collection of poems, The Venus Hattentot, in 1990. She was educated at Yale and Boston University, where she studied with Derek Walcott. More of her work has appeared in The Southern Review and other periodicals, and she has taught at the University of Chicago since 1991.


* Elizabeth Alexander (sinh ra n?m 1962), t?p th? ??u tin c?a b, The Venus Hattentot, ???c in vo n?m 1990. B ? theo h?c t?i ??i h?c Yale v Boston, cng v?i nh th? Derek Walcott. Nh?ng tc ph?m khc c?a b xu?t hi?n trn t?p ch t?ng k? Southern Review v cc t?p ch t?ng k? khc. B d?y t?i ??i h?c Chicago t? n?m 1991.



Bruce Bawer




The way love rests upon coincidence,

the way a sense of family and home

can flow now, like a stream, through several hearts

transplanted from their diverse native climes

by strangers choices, violates all sense.


If we had all been here at different time

I know wed have formed other loyalties,

drawn other eyes and written other poems,

and I know there are friendship Id have made

with people whom I now may never meet.


But so be it. Heard melodies are sweet,

and unheard melodies are never played

except on the harmonium of art.

This place we love reminds us how immense

the world is, and how small our cherished part,


and why we feel drawn on toward mysteries,

compelled to paint and sculpt, compose and write.

To think of those wholl be here three months hence,

wholl fell just as we do, and find it hard

believing that emotions so intense


can be so commonplace, is to regard

those mysteries as if with second sight.

It is to sense an elemental rhyme

of soul and soul, to feed a river flow

between our hearts and those well never know.




???ng tnh d?a vo s? ng?u nhin v ???ng nh?n

bi?t v? gia ?nh nh ? c th? tun ch?y

nh? m?t dng su?i qua vi t?m lng di chuy?n

t? nh?ng n?i ch?n sinh qun ?a d?ng b?i ch?n

l?a c?a ng??i xa l?, vi ph?m m?i nh?n bi?t


tr tu?. N?u t?t c? chng ta ? ? ?y

vo nh?ng th?i ?i?m khc nhau t?o thnh nh?ng cam

k?t khc nhau v? nh?ng ?i m?t khc vi?t nh?ng

bi th? khc v ti bi?t nh?ng tnh b?n ti

? c v?i nh?ng ng??i ti ch?a m?t l?n g?p


m?t. Ch?p nh?n nh? th?. Nghe nh?ng giai ?i?u ng?t

ngo, v khng nghe nh?ng giai ?i?u ch?a m?t l?n

ht ln tr? ra n?i tr t??ng. N?i yu m?n

ny nh?c chng ta th? gi?i bao la lm sao,

nh? b lm sao, ph?n th??ng m?n, v t?i sao, nh?ng


b m?t li cu?n thc ??y chng ta v? tranh,

t?c t??ng, sng tc v vi?t. ?? ngh? v? nh?ng

ng??i s? ? ?y ba thng t? lc ny, ai

s? c?m th?y, v th?y kh tin nh?ng tnh c?m

cu?ng nhi?t c th? qu bnh th??ng, quan tm t?i  


b m?t ? nh? th? no v?i t?m nhn l?n

th? hai. ?? ngh? c?m nh?n m?t v?n c? b?n

c?a linh h?n ny t?i linh h?n khc, nui d??ng

m?t dng sng tri gi?a tri tim v nh?ng th?

chng ta s? ch?ng bao gi? bi?t.





This is a sight that Wordsworth never knew,

whether looking down from mountain, bridge, or hill:

An endless field of lights, white, orange, and blue,

as small and bright as stars, and nearly still,

but moving slowly, many miles below,

in blackness, as stars crawl across the skies,

and ranked in rows that stars will never know,

like beads strung on a thousand latticed ties.

Would even Wordsworth, seeing what I see,

know that these lights are not well-ordered stars

that have been here a near-eternity,

but houses, streetlamps, factories, and cars?

Or has this slim craft made too high a leap

above it all, and is the dark too deep?



?y l c?nh t??ng m Wordsworth ch?a h? bi?t,

d nhn xu?ng t? trn c?u hay ni ??i: m?t

cnh ??ng nh sng v t?n, tr?ng, cam, xanh, nh?

v sng nh? nh?ng v sao, v g?n nh? ph?ng

l?ng, chuy?n ??ng ch?m ch?p, nhi?u d?m pha d??i, trong

t?i ?en, nh? nh?ng v sao ngang qua b?u tr?i,

v k?t thnh hng, nh?ng v sao s? khng bao

gi? nh?n bi?t, gi?ng nh? nh?ng chu?i h?t xu trn

c? ngn dy m?t co. Ngay c? Wordsworth, ?ang

nhn nh?ng g ti nhn, ?u bi?t r?ng nh sng

ny khng ph?i nh?ng v sao ???c s?p ??t ng?n

n?p, ? hi?n di?n ? ?y t? lu, m ch?

l nh?ng ngi nh, ?n ???ng, x??ng my, xe c??

Ho?c c ph?i chi?c my bay ny ? v?t ln

qu cao bn trn, v bng t?i th qu su (bn d??i)?



*Bruce Bawer (born October 31, 1956) is an American writer who has been a resident of Norway since 1999. He is a literary, film, and cultural critic and a novelist and poet, who has also written about gay rights, Christianity, and Islam.

*Bruce Bawer (sinh ngy 31 thng 10 n?m 1956), nh v?n ng??i M?, c? tr t?i Na Uy t? n?m 1999. ng l m?t nh ph bnh v?n h?c, ?i?n ?nh v v?n ha. ng c?ng l nh th?, ti?u thuy?t gia, ? vi?t v? quy?n c?a ng??i ??ng tnh, cc tn gio nh? C? ??c gio, v ??o H?i.


Kh. I

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