27
I’m an old man now, and a lonesome man in Kansas
because not only my lonesomeness it’s ours, all over America,
28
It’s not the vast plains mute our mouths that fill at midnite with ecstatic language
when our trembling bodies hold each other breast to breast on a mattress —
Not the empty sky that hides the feeling from our faces
nor our skirts and trousers that conceal the bodylove emanating in a glow of beloved skin,
white smooth abdomen down to the hair between our legs,
It’s not a God that bore us that forbid our eing,
like a sunny rose all red with naked joy between our eyes & bellies, yes
29
All we do is for this frightened thing we call Love, want and lack —
fear that we aren’t the one whose body could be beloved of all the brides of Kansas City,
kissed all over by every boy of Wichita —
O but how many in their solitude weep aloud like me —
On the bridge over Republican River almost in tears to know
on the frosty broad road uphill between highway embankments
I search for the language that is also yours —
almost all our language has been taxed by war.
30
Radio antennae high tension
wires ranging from Junction City across the plains —
highway cloverleaf sunk in a vast meadow lanes curving past Abilene
to Denver filled with old heroes of love —
to Wichita where McClure’s mind burst into animal beauty drunk, getting laid in a car in a neon misted street
15 years ago — to Independence where the old man’s still alive
who loosed the bomb that’s slaved all human consciousness
and made the body universe a place of fear —
31
no giant demon machine visible on the horizon
but tiny human trees and wooden houses at the sky’s edge
I claim my birthright !
Reborn forever as long as Man in Kansas or other universe —
Joy reborn after the vast sadness of War Gods !
32
A lone man talking to myself, no house in the brown vastness to hear imagining the throng of Selves
33
all Lords of human kingdoms to come
Shambu Bharti Baba naked covered with ash
Khaki Baba fat-bellied mad with the dogs
Dehorahava Baba who moans Oh how wounded, How wounded
Sitaram Onkar Das Thakur who commands give up your desire
Satyananda who raises two thumbs in tranquility
Shivananda who touches the breast and says OM
Srimata Krishnaji of Brindaban who says take for your guru
William Blake the invisible father of English visions
Sri Ramakrishna master of ecstasy eyes half closed who only cries for his mother
Chaitanya arms upraised singing & dancing his own praise merciful Chango judging our bodies
Durga-Ma covered with blood destroyer of battlefield illusions
million faced Tathagata gone past suffering
Preserver Harekrishna returning in the age of pain
Sacred Heart my Christ acceptable
Allah the compassionate one
Jaweh Righteous One all Knowledge-Princes of Earth-man,
all ancient Seraphim of heavenly Desire, Devas, yogis & holymen I chant to —
Come to my lone presence into this Vortex named Kansas,
34
I lift my voice aloud, make Mantra of American language now,
I here declare the end of the War !
Ancient days’ Illusion ! — and pronounce words beginning my own millennium.
Let the States tremble,
let the nation weep,
let the President execute his own desire —
this Act done by my own voice,
nameless Mystery —
published to my own senses,
blissfully received by my own form
approved with pleasure by my sensations
manifestation of my very thought accomplished in my own imagination
all realms within my consciousness fulfilled
60 miles from Wichita near El Dorado,
The Golden One, in chill earthly mist
houseless brown farmland plains rolling heavenward in every direction
one midwinter afternoon Sunday called the day of the Lord —
🎵 LRC歌词版本
[00:00.000]27
[00:18.219]I’m an old man now, and a lonesome man in Kansas
[00:27.033]because not only my lonesomeness it’s ours, all over America,
[00:43.716]
[00:44.165]28
[00:45.699]It’s not the vast plains mute our mouths that fill at midnite with ecstatic language
[00:50.881]when our trembling bodies hold each other breast to breast on a mattress —
[00:57.132]Not the empty sky that hides the feeling from our faces
[01:01.966]nor our skirts and trousers that conceal the bodylove emanating in a glow of beloved skin,
[01:09.984]white smooth abdomen down to the hair between our legs,
[01:16.913]It’s not a God that bore us that forbid our eing,
[01:21.348]like a sunny rose all red with naked joy between our eyes & bellies, yes
[01:28.483]
[01:28.764]29
[01:29.097]All we do is for this frightened thing we call Love, want and lack —
[01:35.800]fear that we aren’t the one whose body could be beloved of all the brides of Kansas City,
[01:42.001]kissed all over by every boy of Wichita —
[01:46.449]O but how many in their solitude weep aloud like me —
[01:51.983]On the bridge over Republican River almost in tears to know
[02:00.866]on the frosty broad road uphill between highway embankments
[02:06.517]I search for the language that is also yours —
[02:11.248]almost all our language has been taxed by war.
[02:14.449]
[02:14.791]30
[02:15.716]Radio antennae high tension
[02:18.092]wires ranging from Junction City across the plains —
[02:21.425]highway cloverleaf sunk in a vast meadow lanes curving past Abilene
[02:27.623]to Denver filled with old heroes of love —
[02:32.124]to Wichita where McClure’s mind burst into animal beauty drunk, getting laid in a car in a neon misted street
[02:41.241]15 years ago — to Independence where the old man’s still alive
[02:48.541]who loosed the bomb that’s slaved all human consciousness
[02:52.960]and made the body universe a place of fear —
[02:55.739]
[02:56.016]31
[03:01.141]no giant demon machine visible on the horizon
[03:05.191]but tiny human trees and wooden houses at the sky’s edge
[03:10.241]I claim my birthright !
[03:13.940]Reborn forever as long as Man in Kansas or other universe —
[03:18.806]Joy reborn after the vast sadness of War Gods !
[03:23.654]
[03:23.933]32
[03:24.388]A lone man talking to myself, no house in the brown vastness to hear imagining the throng of Selves
[03:42.624]
[03:42.923]33
[03:51.840]all Lords of human kingdoms to come
[03:58.707]Shambu Bharti Baba naked covered with ash
[04:02.806]Khaki Baba fat-bellied mad with the dogs
[04:08.024]Dehorahava Baba who moans Oh how wounded, How wounded
[04:15.056]Sitaram Onkar Das Thakur who commands give up your desire
[04:21.275]Satyananda who raises two thumbs in tranquility
[04:30.474]Shivananda who touches the breast and says OM
[04:36.757]Srimata Krishnaji of Brindaban who says take for your guru
[04:41.407]William Blake the invisible father of English visions
[04:45.608]Sri Ramakrishna master of ecstasy eyes half closed who only cries for his mother
[04:53.990]Chaitanya arms upraised singing & dancing his own praise merciful Chango judging our bodies
[05:03.443]Durga-Ma covered with blood destroyer of battlefield illusions
[05:10.558]million faced Tathagata gone past suffering
[05:15.356]Preserver Harekrishna returning in the age of pain
[05:21.539]Sacred Heart my Christ acceptable
[05:26.541]Allah the compassionate one
[05:29.773]Jaweh Righteous One all Knowledge-Princes of Earth-man,
[05:36.023]all ancient Seraphim of heavenly Desire, Devas, yogis & holymen I chant to —
[05:43.323]Come to my lone presence into this Vortex named Kansas,
[05:48.545]
[05:48.808]34
[05:49.823]I lift my voice aloud, make Mantra of American language now,
[05:57.090]I here declare the end of the War !
[05:59.736]Ancient days’ Illusion ! — and pronounce words beginning my own millennium.
[06:03.269]Let the States tremble,
[06:05.939]let the nation weep,
[06:08.002]let the President execute his own desire —
[06:15.871]this Act done by my own voice,
[06:19.368]nameless Mystery —
[06:21.034]published to my own senses,
[06:22.486]blissfully received by my own form
[06:26.054]approved with pleasure by my sensations
[06:29.854]manifestation of my very thought accomplished in my own imagination
[06:35.737]all realms within my consciousness fulfilled
[06:39.486]60 miles from Wichita near El Dorado,
[06:44.120]The Golden One, in chill earthly mist
[06:48.919]houseless brown farmland plains rolling heavenward in every direction
[06:54.885]one midwinter afternoon Sunday called the day of the Lord —
📝 纯歌词版本
27
I’m an old man now, and a lonesome man in Kansas
because not only my lonesomeness it’s ours, all over America,
28
It’s not the vast plains mute our mouths that fill at midnite with ecstatic language
when our trembling bodies hold each other breast to breast on a mattress —
Not the empty sky that hides the feeling from our faces
nor our skirts and trousers that conceal the bodylove emanating in a glow of beloved skin,
white smooth abdomen down to the hair between our legs,
It’s not a God that bore us that forbid our eing,
like a sunny rose all red with naked joy between our eyes & bellies, yes
29
All we do is for this frightened thing we call Love, want and lack —
fear that we aren’t the one whose body could be beloved of all the brides of Kansas City,
kissed all over by every boy of Wichita —
O but how many in their solitude weep aloud like me —
On the bridge over Republican River almost in tears to know
on the frosty broad road uphill between highway embankments
I search for the language that is also yours —
almost all our language has been taxed by war.
30
Radio antennae high tension
wires ranging from Junction City across the plains —
highway cloverleaf sunk in a vast meadow lanes curving past Abilene
to Denver filled with old heroes of love —
to Wichita where McClure’s mind burst into animal beauty drunk, getting laid in a car in a neon misted street
15 years ago — to Independence where the old man’s still alive
who loosed the bomb that’s slaved all human consciousness
and made the body universe a place of fear —
31
no giant demon machine visible on the horizon
but tiny human trees and wooden houses at the sky’s edge
I claim my birthright !
Reborn forever as long as Man in Kansas or other universe —
Joy reborn after the vast sadness of War Gods !
32
A lone man talking to myself, no house in the brown vastness to hear imagining the throng of Selves
33
all Lords of human kingdoms to come
Shambu Bharti Baba naked covered with ash
Khaki Baba fat-bellied mad with the dogs
Dehorahava Baba who moans Oh how wounded, How wounded
Sitaram Onkar Das Thakur who commands give up your desire
Satyananda who raises two thumbs in tranquility
Shivananda who touches the breast and says OM
Srimata Krishnaji of Brindaban who says take for your guru
William Blake the invisible father of English visions
Sri Ramakrishna master of ecstasy eyes half closed who only cries for his mother
Chaitanya arms upraised singing & dancing his own praise merciful Chango judging our bodies
Durga-Ma covered with blood destroyer of battlefield illusions
million faced Tathagata gone past suffering
Preserver Harekrishna returning in the age of pain
Sacred Heart my Christ acceptable
Allah the compassionate one
Jaweh Righteous One all Knowledge-Princes of Earth-man,
all ancient Seraphim of heavenly Desire, Devas, yogis & holymen I chant to —
Come to my lone presence into this Vortex named Kansas,
34
I lift my voice aloud, make Mantra of American language now,
I here declare the end of the War !
Ancient days’ Illusion ! — and pronounce words beginning my own millennium.
Let the States tremble,
let the nation weep,
let the President execute his own desire —
this Act done by my own voice,
nameless Mystery —
published to my own senses,
blissfully received by my own form
approved with pleasure by my sensations
manifestation of my very thought accomplished in my own imagination
all realms within my consciousness fulfilled
60 miles from Wichita near El Dorado,
The Golden One, in chill earthly mist
houseless brown farmland plains rolling heavenward in every direction
one midwinter afternoon Sunday called the day of the Lord —
🎵 LRC歌词版本
[00:00.000]27
[00:18.219]I’m an old man now, and a lonesome man in Kansas
[00:27.033]because not only my lonesomeness it’s ours, all over America,
[00:43.716]
[00:44.165]28
[00:45.699]It’s not the vast plains mute our mouths that fill at midnite with ecstatic language
[00:50.881]when our trembling bodies hold each other breast to breast on a mattress —
[00:57.132]Not the empty sky that hides the feeling from our faces
[01:01.966]nor our skirts and trousers that conceal the bodylove emanating in a glow of beloved skin,
[01:09.984]white smooth abdomen down to the hair between our legs,
[01:16.913]It’s not a God that bore us that forbid our eing,
[01:21.348]like a sunny rose all red with naked joy between our eyes & bellies, yes
[01:28.483]
[01:28.764]29
[01:29.097]All we do is for this frightened thing we call Love, want and lack —
[01:35.800]fear that we aren’t the one whose body could be beloved of all the brides of Kansas City,
[01:42.001]kissed all over by every boy of Wichita —
[01:46.449]O but how many in their solitude weep aloud like me —
[01:51.983]On the bridge over Republican River almost in tears to know
[02:00.866]on the frosty broad road uphill between highway embankments
[02:06.517]I search for the language that is also yours —
[02:11.248]almost all our language has been taxed by war.
[02:14.449]
[02:14.791]30
[02:15.716]Radio antennae high tension
[02:18.092]wires ranging from Junction City across the plains —
[02:21.425]highway cloverleaf sunk in a vast meadow lanes curving past Abilene
[02:27.623]to Denver filled with old heroes of love —
[02:32.124]to Wichita where McClure’s mind burst into animal beauty drunk, getting laid in a car in a neon misted street
[02:41.241]15 years ago — to Independence where the old man’s still alive
[02:48.541]who loosed the bomb that’s slaved all human consciousness
[02:52.960]and made the body universe a place of fear —
[02:55.739]
[02:56.016]31
[03:01.141]no giant demon machine visible on the horizon
[03:05.191]but tiny human trees and wooden houses at the sky’s edge
[03:10.241]I claim my birthright !
[03:13.940]Reborn forever as long as Man in Kansas or other universe —
[03:18.806]Joy reborn after the vast sadness of War Gods !
[03:23.654]
[03:23.933]32
[03:24.388]A lone man talking to myself, no house in the brown vastness to hear imagining the throng of Selves
[03:42.624]
[03:42.923]33
[03:51.840]all Lords of human kingdoms to come
[03:58.707]Shambu Bharti Baba naked covered with ash
[04:02.806]Khaki Baba fat-bellied mad with the dogs
[04:08.024]Dehorahava Baba who moans Oh how wounded, How wounded
[04:15.056]Sitaram Onkar Das Thakur who commands give up your desire
[04:21.275]Satyananda who raises two thumbs in tranquility
[04:30.474]Shivananda who touches the breast and says OM
[04:36.757]Srimata Krishnaji of Brindaban who says take for your guru
[04:41.407]William Blake the invisible father of English visions
[04:45.608]Sri Ramakrishna master of ecstasy eyes half closed who only cries for his mother
[04:53.990]Chaitanya arms upraised singing & dancing his own praise merciful Chango judging our bodies
[05:03.443]Durga-Ma covered with blood destroyer of battlefield illusions
[05:10.558]million faced Tathagata gone past suffering
[05:15.356]Preserver Harekrishna returning in the age of pain
[05:21.539]Sacred Heart my Christ acceptable
[05:26.541]Allah the compassionate one
[05:29.773]Jaweh Righteous One all Knowledge-Princes of Earth-man,
[05:36.023]all ancient Seraphim of heavenly Desire, Devas, yogis & holymen I chant to —
[05:43.323]Come to my lone presence into this Vortex named Kansas,
[05:48.545]
[05:48.808]34
[05:49.823]I lift my voice aloud, make Mantra of American language now,
[05:57.090]I here declare the end of the War !
[05:59.736]Ancient days’ Illusion ! — and pronounce words beginning my own millennium.
[06:03.269]Let the States tremble,
[06:05.939]let the nation weep,
[06:08.002]let the President execute his own desire —
[06:15.871]this Act done by my own voice,
[06:19.368]nameless Mystery —
[06:21.034]published to my own senses,
[06:22.486]blissfully received by my own form
[06:26.054]approved with pleasure by my sensations
[06:29.854]manifestation of my very thought accomplished in my own imagination
[06:35.737]all realms within my consciousness fulfilled
[06:39.486]60 miles from Wichita near El Dorado,
[06:44.120]The Golden One, in chill earthly mist
[06:48.919]houseless brown farmland plains rolling heavenward in every direction
[06:54.885]one midwinter afternoon Sunday called the day of the Lord —
I saw the best minds
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Said the Presidential skeleton
"I won't sign the bill"
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New Stanzas for Amazing Grace
Allen Ginsberg 艾伦·金斯堡 作 惠明 译
I dreamed I dwelled in a homeless place
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“We will negotiate anywhere anytime” said the giant President
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