Yet Do I Marvel

’蒂’’’(1903－1946)生’’’市’’’’那裏成爲詩’’獲’’’’’’早’中學’期’’’’市詩’比賽中獲獎’’’’’學’獲’’項重’’詩’創’獎’’選’’國’學’’生’國’’’組織PBK’誼’’1925’’’’’第’部詩集’膚’’’蜚’’國詩壇’’成爲’’’’’萊’文藝’興’風雲’’之’’除’’本詩集’’還’’’部’爲’’’天堂’’條路’’’說’’本’’童’讀’’’1934’’’’’’’’市’’中學任教’

我不’疑’’’仁’’善’’’’’

’’’’’用’詞’’解釋’

爲’’’’鼴鼠仍’’眼’

爲’反’’’’’肉體’有’天’’’’

說’’塔羅斯’折’’原’’

’’’變化不’’’’’引’

闡’’’僅僅’’橫’任’’

’’弗斯’’’’’’’限高’階梯’

’’之’’奧莫測’

對’們’詰問’之不’’

’們’’腦塞滿雞毛’皮

’’’解操’’巨手’智’’’’’

’我對’件’’’’驚’’

’’黑膚’詩’’’’唱’!

’

I doubt not God is good, well-meaning, kind,
And did He stoop to quibble could tell why
The little buried mole continues blind,
Why flesh that mirrors Him must some day die,
Make plain the reason tortured Tantalus
Is bailed by the fickle fruit, declare
If merely brute caprice dooms Sisyphus
To struggle up a never-ending stair.
Inscrutable His ways are, and immune
To catechism by a mind too strewn
With petty cares to slightly understand
What awful brain compels His awful hand
Yet do I marvel at this curious thing:
To make a poet black, and bid him sing!

’’我’’驚’ Yet Do I Marvel

’’我’’驚’
Yet Do I Marvel