纽约,达达的首都

我俯瞰着中央公园,想象着半个世纪前在罗马尼亚北部的一个小镇,一位个子很高,头发灰白的人吟诵着自己的诗作,“红与黑”。凝视着脚下的公园,那些斯大林主义时代的诗篇从我脑海中闪过:

                                    纽约的一切都是那么美丽。

                                    英雄们来来往往。

To continue reading, please log in or enter your email address.

Registration is quick and easy and requires only your email address. If you already have an account with us, please log in. Or subscribe now for unlimited access.

required

Log in

http://prosyn.org/xunHVuX/zh;