21
Oct

《天真的预兆》(Auguries of Innocence)

   Posted by: sye   in misc

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一沙见世界 / 一花窥天堂 / 君掌盛无边,/ 刹那含永劫。

William Blake – Auguries of Innocence

To see a world in a grain of sand,
And a heaven in a wild flower,
Hold infinity in the palm of your hand,
And eternity in an hour.

A robin redbreast in a cage
Puts all heaven in a rage.
A dove-house fill’d with doves and pigeons
Shudders hell thro’ all its regions.
A dog starv’d at his master’s gate
Predicts the ruin of the state.
A horse misused upon the road
Calls to heaven for human blood.
Each outcry of the hunted hare
A fibre from the brain does tear.
A skylark wounded in the wing,
A cherubim does cease to sing.

The game-cock clipt and arm’d for fight
Does the rising sun affright.
Every wolf’s and lion’s howl
Raises from hell a human soul.
The wild deer, wand’ring here and there,
Keeps the human soul from care.
The lamb misus’d breeds public strife,
And yet forgives the butcher’s knife.
The bat that flits at close of eve
Has left the brain that won’t believe.
The owl that calls upon the night
Speaks the unbeliever’s fright.
He who shall hurt the little wren
Shall never be belov’d by men.
He who the ox to wrath has mov’d
Shall never be by woman lov’d.
The wanton boy that kills the fly
Shall feel the spider’s enmity.
He who torments the chafer’s sprite
Weaves a bower in endless night.
The caterpillar on the leaf
Repeats to thee thy mother’s grief.
Kill not the moth nor butterfly,
For the last judgement draweth nigh.
He who shall train the horse to war
Shall never pass the polar bar.
The beggar’s dog and widow’s cat,
Feed them and thou wilt grow fat.
The gnat that sings his summer’s song
Poison gets from slander’s tongue.
The poison of the snake and newt
Is the sweat of envy’s foot.
The poison of the honey bee
Is the artist’s jealousy.
The prince’s robes and beggar’s rags
Are toadstools on the miser’s bags.
A truth that’s told with bad intent
Beats all the lies you can invent.
It is right it should be so;
Man was made for joy and woe;
And when this we rightly know,
Thro’ the world we safely go.
Joy and woe are woven fine,
A clothing for the soul divine.
Under every grief and pine
Runs a joy with silken twine.
The babe is more than swaddling bands;
Every farmer understands.
Every tear from every eye
Becomes a babe in eternity;
This is caught by females bright,
And return’d to its own delight.
The bleat, the bark, bellow, and roar,
Are waves that beat on heaven’s shore.
The babe that weeps the rod beneath
Writes revenge in realms of death.
The beggar’s rags, fluttering in air,
Does to rags the heavens tear.
The soldier, arm’d with sword and gun,
Palsied strikes the summer’s sun.
The poor man’s farthing is worth more
Than all the gold on Afric’s shore.
One mite wrung from the lab’rer’s hands
Shall buy and sell the miser’s lands;
Or, if protected from on high,
Does that whole nation sell and buy.
He who mocks the infant’s faith
Shall be mock’d in age and death.
He who shall teach the child to doubt
The rotting grave shall ne’er get out.
He who respects the infant’s faith
Triumphs over hell and death.
The child’s toys and the old man’s reasons
Are the fruits of the two seasons.
The questioner, who sits so sly,
Shall never know how to reply.
He who replies to words of doubt
Doth put the light of knowledge out.
The strongest poison ever known
Came from Caesar’s laurel crown.
Nought can deform the human race
Like to the armour’s iron brace.
When gold and gems adorn the plow,
To peaceful arts shall envy bow.
A riddle, or the cricket’s cry,
Is to doubt a fit reply.
The emmet’s inch and eagle’s mile
Make lame philosophy to smile.
He who doubts from what he sees
Will ne’er believe, do what you please.
If the sun and moon should doubt,
They’d immediately go out.
To be in a passion you good may do,
But no good if a passion is in you.
The whore and gambler, by the state
Licensed, build that nation’s fate.
The harlot’s cry from street to street
Shall weave old England’s winding-sheet.
The winner’s shout, the loser’s curse,
Dance before dead England’s hearse.
Every night and every morn
Some to misery are born,
Every morn and every night
Some are born to sweet delight.
Some are born to sweet delight,
Some are born to endless night.
We are led to believe a lie
When we see not thro’ the eye,
Which was born in a night to perish in a night,
When the soul slept in beams of light.
God appears, and God is light,
To those poor souls who dwell in night;
But does a human form display
To those who dwell in realms of day.
From close reading of 阮一峰的网络日志

This entry was posted on Friday, October 21st, 2016 at 7:12 pm and is filed under misc. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.

One comment

sye
 1 

陳昌仁,美國明尼蘇達大學比較文學與文化研究學系助理教授。研究領域主要包
括比較美學,電影研究,以及視覺藝術研究。著作發表於《新左》等國際期刊。
除教學研究外,並從事媒體,攝影,電影製作。曾參與亞太及美國地區許多電影
拍攝製作,如《一一》(2000),《驚魂記》(1998)等片。

直觀之,秋麥的華山攝影圖有著明顯的抽象化傾向,在比較郎靜山山水攝影後更覺有趣。攝
影的工具性與紀實性使人的參與成分減低,乃至有不足為藝術之論。郎靜山加入人工安排
的傳統圖像組合,其藝術成分乃在其安排之用心與操作上。秋麥的華山攝影圖顯示明顯的
抽象,其藝術人為成分乃在其重拍複製的多重書寫與觀念操作上。作為一位“替照片拍照
片”的藝術家,秋麥的重拍複攝一方面與胸中丘壑的畫法類似,另一方面更與王履相合,其
結果都是更加遠離自然。但這個遠離可能更接近傳統中國文人畫的精神。

中國藝術的遠離自然是人本的精神與結果,長久以來中國人對中國畫感興趣的是其視覺傳
統,於是極度發展的自我指涉性,發展成高度自我完足的封閉系統與中國畫的潛在內爆性。
但是當金文銘刻也成為自然的一部分,當在石碑上刻文字早已名正言順地加入自然,中國文
人畫的遠離自然或者藝術上的出走,竟然還是到頭來回歸自然。走得愈遠回歸得愈自然。祗
不過這個自然已不再是與人相對的自然,而是與人相共存的自然,人的自然。

October 23rd, 2016 at 1:39 pm