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?A Tribute to Ben Okri <BR>　　A Excerpt from "The Famished Road" by Ben Okri<BR>　　<BR>　　Photography and Video Captures, Alan Geoghegan<BR>　　<BR>　　 <BR>　　<BR>　　<BR>　　<BR>　　Bird catcher, Freetown<BR>　　<BR>　　 <BR>　　<BR>　　In the beginning there was a river. The river became a road and the road branched out to the whole world. And because the road was once a river it was always hungry.<BR>　　<BR>　　In that land of beginnings spirits mingled with the unborn. We could assume numerous forms. Many of us were birds. We knew no boundaries. There was much feasting, playing and sorrowing. We feasted much because of the beautiful terrors of eternity. We played much because we were free. And we borrowed much because there were always those amongst us who had just returned from the world of the living. They had returned inconsolable for all the love they had left behind, all the suffering they hadn't redeemed, all that they hadn't understood, and for all that they had barely begun to learn before they were drawn back to the land of origins. <BR>　　<BR>　　 <BR>　　<BR>　　 <BR>　　<BR>　　There were not one amongst us who looked forward to being born. We disliked the rigours of existence, the unfulfilled longings, the enshrined injustices of the world, the labyrinths of love, the ignorance of parents, the fact of dying, and the amazing indifference of the Living in the midst of simple beauties of the universe. We feared the heartlessness of human beings, all of whom are born blind, few of whom ever learn to see.<BR>　　 <BR>　　<BR>　　Our king was a wonderful personage who sometimes appeared in the form of a great cat. He had a red beard and eyes of greenish sapphire. He had been born uncountable times and was a legend in all worlds, known by a hundred different names. It never mattered into what circumstances he was born. He always lived the most extraordinary of lives. One could pore over the great invisible books of lifetimes and recognize his genius through the recorded and unrecorded ages. Sometimes a man, sometimes a woman, he wrought incomparable achievements from every life. If there is anything in common to all his lives, the essence of his genius, it might be the love of transformation, and the transformation of love into higher realities.<BR>　　<BR>　　 <BR>　　<BR>　　With our spirit companions, the ones with whom we had a special affinity, we were happy most of the time because we floated on the aquamarine of love. We played with the fauns, the fairies, and the beautiful beings. Tender Sibyls, benign sprits, and the serene presences of our ancestors were always with us ,bathing us in the radiance of their diverse rainbows. <BR>　　<BR>　　There are many reasons why babies cry when they are born, and one of them is the sudden separation from the world of pure dreams, where all things are made of enchantment, and where there is no suffering. The happier we were, the closer was our birth. As we approached another incarnation we made pacts that we would return to the spirit world at first opportunity. We made these vows in fields of intense flowers and in the sweet-tasting moonlight of that world. Those of us who made these vows were known among the living as abiku, spirit-children. Not all people recognized us. We were the ones who kept coming and going, unwilling to terms with life. We had the ability to will our deaths. Our pacts were binding.<BR>　　<BR>　　<BR>　　 <BR>　　Those who broke their pacts were assailed by hallucinations and haunted by their companions. They would only find consolation when they returned to the world of the unborn, the place of fountains, where their loved ones would be waiting for them silently. Those of us who lingered in the world, seduced by the annunciation of wonderful events, went through life with beautiful and fated eyes, carrying within us the music of a lovely and tragic mythology. Our mouths utter obscure prophecies. Our minds are invaded by images of the future. We are the strange ones, with half of our beings always in the spirit world.<BR>　　<BR>　　We were often recognized and our flesh marked with razor incisions. When we were born again to the same parents the marks, lingering on our new flesh, branded our souls in advance. Then the world would spin a web of fate around our lives. Those of us who died while still children tried to erase these marks, by making beautiful spots or interesting discolorations of them. If we didn't succeed, and were recognized, we were greeted with howls of dread, and the weeping of mothers. <BR>　　In not wanting to stay, we caused much pain to mothers. Their pain grew heavier with each return. Their anguish became for us an added spiritual weight which quickens the cycle of rebirth. Each new birth was agony for us too, each shock of the raw world. Our cyclical rebellion made us resented by other spirits and ancestors. Disliked in the spirit world and branded amongst the Living, our unwillingness to stay affected all kinds of balances.<BR>　　 <BR>　　<BR>　　Kepeteh Village, upcountry, Sierra Leone <BR>　　 With passionate ritual offerings, our parents always tried to induce us to live. They also tried us to reveal where we had hidden the spirit tokens that bound us to the other world. We disdained the offerings and kept our tokens a fierce secret. And we remained indifferent to the long joyless parturition of mothers.<BR>　　<BR>　　We longed for an early homecoming, to play by the river, in the grasslands, and in the magic caves. We longed to meditate on sunlight and precious stones, and to be joyful in the eternal dew of the spirit. To be born is to come into the world weighted down with strange gifts of the soul, with enigmas and an inextinguishable sense of exile. So it was with me. <BR>　　 <BR>　　<BR>　　How many times had I come and gone through the dreaded gateway? <BR>　　<BR>　　How many times had I been born and died young? And how often to the same parents? <BR>　　<BR>　　I had no idea.<BR>　　<BR>　　So much of the dust of living was in me. But this time, somewhere in the inter space between the spirit world and the Living, I chose to stay. This meant breaking my pact and outwitting my companions. It wasn't because of the sacrifices, the burnt offerings of oils and yams and palm-nuts, or the blandishments, the short-lived promises of special treatment, or even because of the grief I had caused. It wasn't because of my horror of recognition either. Apart from a mark on my palm I had managed to avoid being discovered. It may have simply been that I had grown tired of coming and going. <BR>　　<BR>　　It is terrible to remain forever in-between. It may also have been that I wanted to taste of this world, to feel it, know it, love it, to make a valuable contribution to it, and to have that sublime mood of eternity in me as I live the life to come. But I sometimes think it was a face that made me want to stay. I wanted to make happy the bruised face of the woman who would become my mother.<BR>　　 <BR>　　A Bundo Devil dancer from the Sierra Leone National Dance Troupe<BR>　　 <BR>　　<BR>　　<BR>　　When the time arrived for the ceremonies of birth to begin, the fields at the crossroads were brilliant with lovely presences and iridescent beings. Our king led us to the first peak of the seven mountains. He spoke to us for a long time in silence. His cryptic words took flame in us. He loved speeches. With great severity, his sapphire eyes glowing, he said to me:<BR>　　<BR>　　"You are a mischievous one. You will cause no end of trouble.<BR>　　You have to travel many roads before you find the river of your destiny.<BR>　　This life of yours will be full of riddles. You will be protected and you will never be alone."<BR>　　<BR>　　<BR>　　<BR>　　West African Children We all went down to the great valley. It was an immemorial day of festivals. Wondrous spirits danced around us to the music of gods, uttering golden chants and lapis lazuli incantations to protect our souls across the inter spaces and to prepare us for our first contact with blood and earth. <BR>　　Each one of us made the passage alone.<BR>　　<BR>　　<BR>　　Alone, we had to survive the crossing - survive the flames and the sea, the emergence into illusions. The exile had begun.<BR>　　<BR>　　These are the myths of beginnings. These are the stories and moods deep in those who are seeded in rich lands, who still believe in mysteries. <BR>　　<BR>　　I was born not because I had conceived a notion to stay, but because in between my coming and going the great cycles of time had finally tightened around my neck. I prayed for laughter, a life without hunger. I was answered with paradoxes. It remains an enigma how it came to be that I was born smiling.<BR>　　 <BR>　　<BR>　　THE FAMISHED ROAD<BR>　　<BR>　　Ben Okri has published seven books: Flowers and Shadows, The Landscapes Within, Incidents at the Shrine, Stars of the New Curfew, The Famished Road, which won the Booker Prize in 1991, and Songs of Enchantment. His most recent collection of poems, An African Elegy, was published by Jonathan Cape. He has been a Fellow Commoner in Creative Arts at Trinity College, Cambridge, England. <BR>　　Ben Okri's books have won several awards including the Commonwealth Writers' Prize for Africa, the Paris Review Aga Khan Prize for Fiction, the International Literary Prize Chianti Rufino-Antico Fattore 1993, and the prestigious Premio Grinzane Cavour 1994.<BR>　　<BR>　　He lives in London.<BR>　　 <BR>　　<BR>　　Sierra Leonean boy, video capture from<BR>　　"The Bundo Devil" by Alan Geoghegan<BR>　　<BR>

A Tribute to Ben Okri <BR>　　　　A Excerpt from \"The Famished Road\" by Ben Okri<BR>　　谨以此文敬献本.奥克瑞<BR>　　 节选自本.奥克瑞著作&lt;饥饿之路&gt;<BR>　　　<BR>　　　　<BR>　　　　 <BR>　　　　<BR>　　　　<BR>　　　　<BR>　　　　Bird catcher, Freetown<BR>　　　　捕鸟人,自由镇<BR>　　　　 <BR>　　　　<BR>　　　　In the beginning there was a river. The river became a road and the road branched out to the whole world. And because the road was once a river it was always hungry.<BR>　　 开始的时候有一条河.接着这条河变成了一条路,这条路延伸到世界的各个角落.因为这条路的前身是一条河,所以它总是觉得饥饿.<BR>　　　　<BR>　　　　In that land of beginnings spirits mingled with the unborn. We could assume numerous forms. Many of us were birds. We knew no boundaries. There was much feasting, playing and sorrowing. We feasted much because of the beautiful terrors of eternity. We played much because we were free. And we borrowed much because there were always those amongst us who had just returned from the world of the living. They had returned inconsolable for all the love they had left behind, all the suffering they hadn\'t redeemed, all that they hadn\'t understood, and for all that they had barely begun to learn before they were drawn back to the land of origins. <BR>　　　　<BR>　　　　 在源始地鬼魂和胎儿混合在一起。我们呈现出多种的外形。我们之中很多人化身为鸟。我们没有边界的意识。我们这有很多的宴会、玩乐、伤悲。我们经常举行宴会，那是因为对永恒美丽的恐惧。我们经常玩乐，那是因为我们自由。我们经常伤悲，那是因为我们之中总有人刚刚从生的世界返回。他们返回的时候伤心欲绝，为着所有他们带不走的爱，为着所有他们当时无法弥补的苦痛，为着所有他们当时无法明白的，以及所有在他们被拖回源始地时还未来得及学的。<BR>　　　　<BR>

<>好多..</P>

　 <br>　　　　There were not one amongst us who looked forward to being born. We disliked the rigours of existence, the unfulfilled longings, the enshrined injustices of the world, the labyrinths of love, the ignorance of parents, the fact of dying, and the amazing indifference of the Living in the midst of simple beauties of the universe. We feared the heartlessness of human beings, all of whom are born blind, few of whom ever learn to see.<br>　　　　我们之中没有人想要投胎。我们厌恶艰苦地活着，愿望无法实现；我们厌恶不公正成风的世界，错综复杂的爱情；我们厌恶愚昧的父母，走向死亡的事实；我们厌恶活着的人对于世间微小的美出奇的冷漠。我们惧怕人类的冷酷无情，他们生来就是“瞎子”，少有人学会用眼。<br>

　Our king was a wonderful personage who sometimes appeared in the form of a great cat. He had a red beard and eyes of greenish sapphire. He had been born uncountable times and was a legend in all worlds, known by a hundred different names. It never mattered into what circumstances he was born. He always lived the most extraordinary of lives. One could pore over the great invisible books of lifetimes and recognize his genius through the recorded and unrecorded ages. Sometimes a man, sometimes a woman, he wrought incomparable achievements from every life. If there is anything in common to all his lives, the essence of his genius, it might be the love of transformation, and the transformation of love into higher realities<BR>　　　　我们的国王是个绝妙的角色,他有时候化身成一只异乎寻常的猫.这只猫有着红色的胡须,他的眼睛就像是略带绿色的蓝宝石.他投胎了无数次,在所有的界域里都是传奇,在这些传奇里他以上百个名字流传着.他投胎在怎样的环境里并不重要,因为他总能活得最出色.人们可以仔细翻阅神奇的无形的生死簿,在所有有记载的和无记载的年代里,他都是天赋异禀.有的时候是个男的,有的时候是个女的,他在每一世里都创造了无与伦比的成就.如果他每一世的生命有什么共同点的话-----他天才的核心,这个共同点或许就是对转生的热爱,以及通过转生把爱变得更真实.<BR>

<>一瞧这么多QQ字我就犯晕了</P>

有意思啊，创意

　With our spirit companions, the ones with whom we had a special affinity, we were happy most of the time because we floated on the aquamarine of love. We played with the fauns, the fairies, and the beautiful beings. Tender Sibyls, benign sprits, and the serene presences of our ancestors were always with us ,bathing us in the radiance of their diverse rainbows. <BR>　　当我们与亲近的鬼魂伙伴在一起的时候,我们通常都觉得快乐,那是因为我们漂浮在浅绿色的爱河上.我们与农牧神,仙子,美物在一起玩耍.温柔的女先知,和善的精灵,祖先安详的灵魂总与我们为伴,并以他们迥异的幻想的光辉沐浴着我们.<BR>　　　　<BR>　　<BR>

There are many reasons why babies cry when they are born, and one of them is the sudden separation from the world of pure dreams, where all things are made of enchantment, and where there is no suffering. The happier we were, the closer was our birth. As we approached another incarnation we made pacts that we would return to the spirit world at first opportunity. We made these vows in fields of intense flowers and in the sweet-tasting moonlight of that world. Those of us who made these vows were known among the living as abiku, spirit-children. Not all people recognized us. We were the ones who kept coming and going, unwilling to terms with life. We had the ability to will our deaths. Our pacts were binding.<br>　　　　婴儿啼哭着出生有许多的原因,其中之一就是与纯梦幻的世界突然分离,在那个世界里所有的事物都充满迷人的魅力,在那个世界里没有苦痛.我们越是快乐,就越是到了要投胎的时候.当我们要投胎的时候,我们许下约定,一有机会我们便会重回阴界.我们在那个世界里甜美的月光下鲜花遍地的原野里许下这些誓言.我们之中许下如此誓言的被活着的人称做,灵孩.不是所有的人都可以认得出我们.我们来去匆匆,我们不愿意与生活妥协.我们有能力自己结束自己的生命.我们的约定应该履行.<br>　　<br><br><INPUT>