原诗：
1
In the region of rain and cloud,
I live in shade,
under the moss mat of days bruised
purple with desire.
My dominion is a song in the wide ring of water.
There, I run to and fro,
braiding the logical act
in the birth of an Ear of Corn,
polychromatic story I will now tell
in the weaving, power's form in motion,
a devotion to the unstressed.
Once, I wreathed around a king,
became a fishing net, a maze
“a deadly wealth of robe.”
Mothers who have heard me sing take heart;
I always prick them into power.
2
Y vengo alzando al viento la roja flor de invierno.
(I lift the red flower of winter into the wind.)
—Poesía Náhuatl
I
Out of the ninth circle,
a Phoenician boat rocks upward into light
and the warmth of a name—given to heaven—
that arises in the ninth realm.
Earth's realm discloses the Egyptian
on the point of invention,
deprived of life and death,
heart deep in the soul's hawk,
a thymos shadow knapping the tombed body.
Some one or thing is always heaven bound.
Some flowered log doubles my bones.
The spirit of Toltec turtledoves escapes.
A sharp, metaphorical cry sends me
into the adorned sepulchre,
and the thing that decays learns
how to speak its name.
L
IFT
Down Hidalgo,
past Alvarado and Basurto,
I walk a straight line
to the snailed Pasco Los Berros.
Here, at noon, the sun,
a silver bead,
veils what the dawn has displayed.
Even so,
I have taken up the morning's bond again
—the lake with its pendulum leg
shining in the distance,
the boy in white
hauling his bottle of chalky milk home.
I know I sit in the deep of a city
with its brocade of hills,
where a thin rain is an evening's fire.
I have heard the women sing
near their gas lamps,
when the rose end of day lights a hunger
for the garlanded soups and meat they prepare.
Often, I have taken the high ground
by the pond, over a frog's voice
dampened by lilies,
and been exalted by the soothsayer
who knows I'm not at home.
I am the arcane body,
raised at the ninth hour,
to be welcomed by the moonlight
of such spirited air.
I am the Dane of degrees
who realizes how the spirit glows
even as it descends.
R
ED
The heart, catalectic though it be, does glow,
responds to every midnight bell within you.
This is a discourse on reading heat,
the flushed char of burned moments one sees
after the sexton's lamp flows
over the body's dark book.
There is suspicion
here that violet
traces of
sacrifice
stand
bare.
F
LOWER
This marble dust recalls that sunset
with the best burgundy, and the way,
after the charm of it, the peacocks
escaped their cages on the green.
I would now embellish the flame
that ornaments you,
even as it once in that moment
did.
I carry you blossomed,
cream and salt of a high crown.
You
must
flare,
stream forth,
blister and scale me,
even as you structure the enveloping kiss,
sporophore of our highest loss.
W
INTER
Under the evergreens,
the grouse have gone under the snow.
Women who follow their fall flight
tell us that, if you listen, you can hear
their dove's voices ridge the air,
a singing that follows us to a bourne
released from its heat sleep.
We have come to an imagined line,
celestial,
that binds us to the burr of a sheltered thing
and rings us with a fire that will not dance,
in a horn that will not sound.
We have learned, like these birds,
to publish our decline,
when over knotted apples and straw-crisp leaves,
the slanted sun welcomes us once again
to the arrested music in the earth's divided embrace.
W
IND
Through winter,
harmattan blacks the air.
My body fat with oil,
I become another star at noon,
when the vatic insistence
of the dog star's breath clings to me.
Though I am a woman,
I turn south,
toward the fire,
and hear the spirits in the bush.
But this is my conceit:
water will come from the west,
and I will have my trance,
be reborn,
perhaps in a Mediterranean air,
the Rhone delta's contention
with the eastern side of rain.
In all these disguises,
I follow the aroma of power.
So I am charged in my own field,
to give birth to the solar wind,
particles spiraling around the line
of my body,
moving toward the disruption,
the moment when the oil of my star at noon
is a new dawn.
3
I shall go away, I shall disappear,
I shall be stretched on a bed of yellow roses
and the old women will cry for me.
So the Toltecas wrote: their books are finished,
but your heart has become perfect.
诗歌的分析与解读
这首诗是一幅丰富的意象、文化和象征的挂毯，探索自然、身份、力量和转变的主题。它分为多个部分，每个部分唤起不同的元素，如雨、云、冬天和精神领域。诗人使用生动的隐喻，如“在玉米耳的诞生中编织逻辑行为”，象征着创造和成长，以及“致命的财富之袍”，暗示着权力和复杂性。
这首诗还提到了土著文化，如托尔特克人和纳瓦特尔诗歌，将作品扎根于深厚的历史和精神背景中。“冬天的红花”和“托尔特克斑鸠的精神”的提及唤起了与古代传统和生命与死亡自然循环的联系。
诗歌的语调神秘而反思，专注于世俗存在与精神超越之间的相互作用。船只、鸟类、星星和花朵的意象都指向一段旅程——既是物理的也是形而上的——朝向理解和赋权。
背景与作者介绍
这首诗深受中美洲文化和精神主题的影响，特别是托尔特克文明和纳瓦特尔语言诗歌。托尔特克人是墨西哥的一个前哥伦布文明，以其丰富的神话和哲学而闻名。纳瓦特尔诗歌以其象征性和隐喻深度而著称，常常探索自然、生命和宇宙的主题。
作者可能是一位深受墨西哥土著遗产和自然世界影响的诗人，将传统元素与现代诗歌形式相结合。这种融合创造了一个独特的声音，既尊重祖先的智慧，又探索当代身份和转变的主题。
对儿童和学生的教育价值与学习要点
这首诗为学生提供了多种学习机会：
- 文化意识： 学生了解托尔特克等中美洲文明及纳瓦特尔诗歌的重要性，培养对土著文化的尊重。
- 意象与象征： 这首诗富含视觉和隐喻语言，帮助学生发展文学分析和创造性解读的技能。
- 自然与转变的主题： 自然元素和精神旅程鼓励学生反思变化、成长和韧性。
- 语言技能： 诗歌的双语元素（西班牙语和英语）为语言多样性和翻译提供了介绍。
- 情感表达： 诗歌的语调和主题可以帮助学生探索渴望、力量和超越的情感。
生活与学习中的实际应用
- 创意写作： 学生可以以这首诗为灵感，写自己的诗歌或故事，融入自然和文化遗产。
- 历史与社会研究： 这首诗可以作为关于古代文明和土著人民项目的起点。
- 正念与反思： 诗歌的精神和沉思性质可以用于课堂活动，专注于冥想和情感意识。
- 艺术整合： 学生可以根据诗歌的意象创作视觉艺术，通过多种表达形式增强理解。
阅读理解练习
- 诗中提到哪些自然元素？列出至少三个。
- 解释“冬天的红花”在诗中的重要性。
- 这首诗如何与托尔特克文化相联系？
- 这首诗唤起了哪些情感？举例说明。
- 描述说话者经历的旅程或转变。
答案要点
- 雨、云、苔藓、玉米耳、湖、太阳、雪、松鸡、百合、风、星星。
- “冬天的红花”象征着在恶劣条件下的韧性和美丽，代表着在困难时期的希望和力量。
- 这首诗提到了托尔特克斑鸠和古代书籍，连接到托尔特克的精神和智慧。
- 这首诗唤起了渴望（“日子因欲望而变得紫色”）、力量（“我总是激励他们获得力量”）和沉思（“我是神秘的身体，在第九个小时被抬起”）。
- 说话者在物质和精神领域之间移动，从世俗生活到超越，通过自然的旅程和对天体及精神觉醒的提及来象征。
这首诗是一部深刻的作品，丰富了学生对诗歌、文化和人类经验的理解，使其成为教育和个人成长的宝贵资源。
