Ⅰ I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness, starving hysterical naked, dragging themselves through the negro streets at dawn looking for an angry fix, angelheaded hipsters burning for the ancient heavenly connection to the starry dynamo in the machinery of night, who poverty and tatters and hollow-eyed and high sat up smoking in the supernatural darkness of cold-water flats floating across the tops of cities contemplating jazz, who bared their brains to Heaven under the El and saw Mohammedan angels staggering on tenement roofs illuminated, who passed through universities with radiant cool eyes hallucinating Arkansas and Blake-light tragedy among the scholars of war, who were expelled from the academies for crazy & publishing obscene odes on the windows of the skull, who cowered in unshaven rooms in underwear, burning their money in wastebaskets and listening to the Terror through the wall, who got busted in their pubic beards returning through Laredo with a belt of marijuana for New York, who ate fire in paint hotels or drank turpentine in Paradise Alley, death, or purgatoried their torsos night after night with dreams, with drugs, with waking nightmares, alcohol and cock and endless balls, incomparable blind; streets of shuddering cloud and lightning in the mind leaping toward poles of Canada & Paterson, illuminating all the motionless world of Time between, Peyote solidities of halls, backyard green tree cemetery dawns, wine drunkenness over the rooftops, storefront boroughs of teahead joyride neon blinking traffic light, sun and moon and tree vibrations in the roaring winter dusks of Brooklyn, ashcan rantings and kind king light of mind, who chained themselves to subways for the endless ride from Battery to holy Bronx on benzedrine until the noise of wheels and children brought them down shuddering mouth-wracked and battered bleak of brain all drained of brilliance in the drear light of Zoo, who sank all night in submarine light of Bickford's floated out and sat through the stale beer after noon in desolate Fugazzi's, listening to the crack of doom on the hydrogen jukebox, who talked continuously seventy hours from park to pad to bar to Bellevue to museum to the Brooklyn Bridge, lost battalion of platonic conversationalists jumping down the stoops off fire escapes off windowsills off Empire State out of the moon, yacketayakking screaming vomiting whispering facts and memories and anecdotes and eyeball kicks and shocks of hospitals and jails and wars, whole intellects disgorged in total recall for seven days and nights with brilliant eyes, meat for the Synagogue cast on the pavement, who vanished into nowhere Zen New Jersey leaving a trail of ambiguous picture postcards of Atlantic City Hall, suffering Eastern sweats and Tangerian bone-grind-ings and migraines of China under junk-with-drawal in Newark's bleak furnished room, who wandered around and around at midnight in the railroad yard wondering where to go, and went, leaving no broken hearts, who lit cigarettes in boxcars boxcars boxcars racketing through snow toward lonesome farms in grand-father night, who studied Plotinus Poe St. John of the Cross telepathy and bop kabbalah because the cosmos instinctively vibrated at their feet in Kansas, who loned it through the streets of Idaho seeking visionary indian angels who were visionary indian angels, who thought they were only mad when Baltimore gleamed in supernatural ecstasy, who jumped in limousines with the Chinaman of Oklahoma on the impulse of winter midnight street light smalltown rain, who lounged hungry and lonesome through Houston seeking jazz or sex or soup, and followed the brilliant Spaniard to converse about America and Eternity, a hopeless task, and so took ship to Africa, who disappeared into the volcanoes of Mexico leaving behind nothing but the shadow of dungarees and the lava and ash of poetry scattered in fireplace Chicago, who reappeared on the West Coast investigating the F.B.I. in beards and shorts with big pacifist eyes sexy in their dark skin passing out incomprehensible leaflets, who burned cigarette holes in their arms protesting the narcotic tobacco haze of Capitalism, who distributed Supercommunist pamphlets in Union Square weeping and undressing while the sirens of Los Alamos wailed them down, and wailed down Wall, and the Staten Island ferry also wailed, who broke down crying in white gymnasiums naked and trembling before the machinery of other skeletons, who bit detectives in the neck and shrieked with delight in policecars for committing no crime but their own wild cooking pederasty and intoxication, who howled on their knees in the subway and were dragged off the roof waving genitals and manuscripts, who let themselves be fucked in the ass by saintly motorcyclists, and screamed with joy, who blew and were blown by those human seraphim, the sailors, caresses of Atlantic and Caribbean love, blondwho balled in the morning in the evenings in rose gardens and the grass of public parks and cemeteries scattering their semen freely to whomever come who may, who hiccuped endlessly trying to giggle but wound up with a sob behind a partition in a Turkish Bath when the blond & naked angel came to pierce them with a sword, who lost their loveboys to the three old shrews of fate the one eyed shrew of the heterosexual dollar the one eyed shrew that winks out of the womb and the one eyed shrew that does nothing but sit on her ass and snip the intellectual golden threads of the craftsman's loom, who copulated ecstatic and insatiate with a bottle of beer a sweetheart a package of cigarettes a candle and fell off the bed, and continued along the floor and down the hall and ended fainting on the wall with a vision of ultimate cunt and come eluding the last gyzym of consciousness, who sweetened the snatches of a million girls trembling in the sunset, and were red eyed in the morning but prepared to sweeten the snatch of the sun rise, flashing buttocks under barns and naked in the lake, who went out whoring through Colorado in myriad stolen night-cars, N.C., secret hero of these poems, cocksman and Adonis of Denver-joy to the memory of his innumerable lays of girls in empty lots & diner backyards, moviehouses' rickety rows, on mountaintops in caves or with gaunt waitresses in familiar roadside lonely petticoat upliftings & especially secret gas-station solipsisms of johns, & hometown alleys too, who faded out in vast sordid movies, were shifted in dreams, woke on a sudden Manhattan, and picked themselves up out of basements hung over with heartless Tokay and horrors of Third Avenue iron dreams & stumbled to unemployment offices, who walked all night with their shoes full of blood on the snowbank docks waiting for a door in the East River to open to a room full of steamheat and opium, who created great suicidal dramas on the apartment cliff-banks of the Hudson under the wartime blue floodlight of the moon & their heads shall be crowned with laurel in oblivion, who ate the lamb stew of the imagination or digested the crab at the muddy bottom of the rivers of Bowery, who wept at the romance of the streets with their pushcarts full of onions and bad music, who sat in boxes breathing in the darkness under the bridge, and rose up to build harpsichords in their lofts, who coughed on the sixth floor of Harlem crowned with flame under the tubercular sky surrounded by orange crates of theology, who scribbled all night rocking and rolling over lofty incantations which in the yellow morning were stanzas of gibberish, who cooked rotten animals lung heart feet tail borsht & tortillas dreaming of the pure vegetable kingdom, who plunged themselves under meat trucks looking for an egg, who threw their watches off the roof to cast their ballot for Eternity outside of Time, & alarm clocks fell on their heads every day for the next decade, who cut their wrists three times successively unsuccessfully, gave up and were forced to open antique stores where they thought they were growing old and cried, who were burned alive in their innocent flannel suits on Madison Avenue amid blasts of leaden verse & the tanked-up clatter of the iron regiments of fashion & the nitroglycerine shrieks of the fairies of advertising & the mustard gas of sinister intelligent editors, or were run down by the drunken taxicabs of Absolute Reality, who jumped off the Brooklyn Bridge this actually happened and walked away unknown and forgotten into the ghostly daze of Chinatown soup alley ways & firetrucks, not even one free beer, who sang out of their windows in despair, fell out of the subway window, jumped in the filthy Passaic, leaped on negroes, cried all over the street, danced on broken wineglasses barefoot smashed phonograph records of nostalgic European 1930s German jazz finished the whiskey and threw up groaning into the bloody toilet, moans in their ears and the blast of colossal steam whistles, who barreled down the highways of the past journeying to each other's hotrod-Golgotha jail-solitude watch or Birmingham jazz incarnation, who drove crosscountry seventytwo hours to find out if I had a vision or you had a vision or he had a vision to find out Eternity, who journeyed to Denver, who died in Denver, who came back to Denver & waited in vain, who watched over Denver & brooded & loned in Denver and finally went away to find out the Time, & now Denver is lonesome for her heroes, who fell on their knees in hopeless cathedrals praying for each other's salvation and light and breasts, until the soul illuminated its hair for a second, who crashed through their minds in jail waiting for impossible criminals with golden heads and the charm of reality in their hearts who sang sweet blues to Alcatraz, who retired to Mexico to cultivate a habit, or Rocky Mount to tender Buddha or Tangiers to boys or Southern Pacific to the black locomotive or Harvard to Narcissus to Woodlawn to the daisychain or grave, who demanded sanity trials accusing the radio of hyp notism & were left with their insanity & their hands & a hung jury, who threw potato salad at CCNY lecturers on Dadaism and subsequently presented themselves on the granite steps of the madhouse with shaven heads and harlequin speech of suicide, demanding instantaneous lobotomy, and who were given instead the concrete void of insulin Metrazol electricity hydrotherapy psychotherapy occupational therapy pingpong & amnesia, who in humorless protest overturned only one symbolic pingpong table, resting briefly in catatonia, returning years later truly bald except for a wig of blood, and tears and fingers, to the visible mad man doom of the wards of the madtowns of the East, Pilgrim State's Rockland's and Greystone's foetid halls, bickering with the echoes of the soul, rocking and rolling in the midnight solitude-bench dolmen-realms of love, dream of life a nightmare, bodies turned to stone as heavy as the moon, with mother finally ******, and the last fantastic book flung out of the tenement window, and the last door closed at 4. A.M. and the last telephone slammed at the wall in reply and the last furnished room emptied down to the last piece of mental furniture, a yellow paper rose twisted on a wire hanger in the closet, and even that imaginary, nothing but a hopeful little bit of hallucination ah, Carl, while you are not safe I am not safe, and now you're really in the total animal soup of time and who therefore ran through the icy streets obsessed with a sudden flash of the alchemy of the use of the ellipse the catalog the meter & the vibrating plane, who dreamt and made incarnate gaps in Time & Space through images juxtaposed, and trapped the archangel of the soul between 2 visual images and joined the elemental verbs and set the noun and dash of consciousness together jumping with sensation of Pater Omnipotens Aeterna Deus to recreate the syntax and measure of poor human prose and stand before you speechless and intelligent and shaking with shame, rejected yet confessing out the soul to conform to the rhythm of thought in his naked and endless head, the madman bum and angel beat in Time, unknown, yet putting down here what might be left to say in time come after death, and rose reincarnate in the ghostly clothes of jazz in the goldhorn shadow of the band and blew the suffering of America's naked mind for love into an eli eli lamma lamma sabacthani saxophone cry that shivered the cities down to the last radio with the absolute heart of the poem of life butchered out of their own bodies good to eat a thousand years. Ⅱ What sphinx of cement and aluminum bashed open their skulls and ate up their brains and imagination? Moloch! Solitude! Filth! Ugliness! Ashcans and unob tainable dollars! Children screaming under the stairways! Boys sobbing in armies! Old men weeping in the parks! Moloch! Moloch! Nightmare of Moloch! Moloch the loveless! Mental Moloch! Moloch the heavy judger of men! Moloch the incomprehensible prison! Moloch the crossbone soulless jailhouse and Congress of sorrows! Moloch whose buildings are judgment! Moloch the vast stone of war! Moloch the stunned governments! Moloch whose mind is pure machinery! Moloch whose blood is running money! Moloch whose fingers are ten armies! Moloch whose breast is a cannibal dynamo! Moloch whose ear is a smoking tomb! Moloch whose eyes are a thousand blind windows! Moloch whose skyscrapers stand in the long streets like endless Jehovahs! Moloch whose factories dream and croak in the fog! Moloch whose smokestacks and antennae crown the cities! Moloch whose love is endless oil and stone! Moloch whose soul is electricity and banks! Moloch whose poverty is the specter of genius! Moloch whose fate is a cloud of sexless hydrogen! Moloch whose name is the Mind! Moloch in whom I sit lonely! Moloch in whom I dream Angels! Crazy in Moloch! Cocksucker in Moloch! Lacklove and manless in Moloch! Moloch who entered my soul early! Moloch in whom I am a consciousness without a body! Moloch who frightened me out of my natural ecstasy! Moloch whom I abandon! Wake up in Moloch! Light streaming out of the sky! Moloch! Moloch! Robot apartments! invisible suburbs! skeleton treasuries! blind capitals! demonic industries! spectral nations! invincible mad houses! granite cocks! monstrous bombs! They broke their backs lifting Moloch to Heaven! Pave- ments, trees, radios, tons! lifting the city to Heaven which exists and is everywhere about us! Visions! omens! hallucinations! miracles! ecstasies! gone down the American river! Dreams! adorations! illuminations! religions! the whole boatload of sensitive bullshit! Breakthroughs! over the river! flips and crucifixions! gone down the flood! Highs! Epiphanies! Despairs! Ten years' animal screams and suicides! Minds! New loves! Mad generation! down on the rocks of Time! Real holy laughter in the river! They saw it all! the wild eyes! the holy yells! They bade farewell! They jumped off the roof! to solitude! waving! carrying flowers! Down to the river! into the street! Ⅲ Carl Solomon! I'm with you in Rockland where you're madder than I am I'm with you in Rockland where you must feel very strange I'm with you in Rockland where you imitate the shade of my mother I'm with you in Rockland where you've murdered your twelve secretaries I'm with you in Rockland where you laugh at this invisible humor I'm with you in Rockland where we are great writers on the same dreadful typewriter I'm with you in Rockland where your condition has become serious and is reported on the radio I'm with you in Rockland where the faculties of the skull no longer admit the worms of the senses I'm with you in Rockland where you drink the tea of the breasts of the spinsters of Utica I'm with you in Rockland where you pun on the bodies of your nurses the harpies of the Bronx I'm with you in Rockland where you scream in a straightjacket that you're losing the game of the actual pingpong of the abyss I'm with you in Rockland where you bang on the catatonic piano the soul is innocent and immortal it should never die ungodly in an armed madhouse I'm with you in Rockland where fifty more shocks will never return your soul to its body again from its pilgrimage to a cross in the void I'm with you in Rockland where you accuse your doctors of insanity and plot the Hebrew socialist revolution against the fascist national Golgotha I'm with you in Rockland where you will split the heavens of Long Island and resurrect your living human Jesus from the superhuman tomb I'm with you in Rockland where there are twenty-five-thousand mad com- rades all together singing the final stanzas of the Internationale I'm with you in Rockland where we hug and kiss the United States under our bedsheets the United States that coughs all night and won't let us sleep I'm with you in Rockland where we wake up electrified out of the coma by our own souls' airplanes roaring over the roof they've come to drop angelic bombs the hospital illuminates itself imaginary walls collapse O skinny legions run outside O starry spangled shock of mercy the eternal war is here O victory forget your underwear we're free I'm with you in Rockland in my dreams you walk dripping from a sea- journey on the highway across America in tears to the door of my cottage in the Western night。 . | I 我看见这一代最杰出的头脑毁于疯狂，挨着饿歇斯底里浑身赤裸， 拖着自己走过黎明时分的黑人街巷寻狠命的一剂， 天使般圣洁的西卜斯特渴望与黑夜机械中那星光闪烁的发电机沟通古朴的美妙关系， 他们贫穷衣衫破旧双眼深陷昏昏然在冷水公寓那超越自然的黑暗中吸着烟飘浮过城市上空冥思爵士乐章彻夜不眠， 他们在高架铁轨下对上苍袒露真情，发现默罕默德的天使们灯火通明的住宅屋顶上摇摇欲坠， 他们睁着闪亮的冷眼进出大学，在研究战争的学者中幻遇阿肯和布莱克启示的悲剧， 他们被逐出学校因为疯狂因为在骷髅般的窗玻璃上发表猥亵的颂诗， 他们套着短裤蜷缩在没有剃须的房间，焚烧纸币于废纸篓中隔墙倾听恐怖之声， 他们返回纽约带着成捆的穿越拉雷多裸着耻毛被逮住， 他们在涂抹香粉的旅馆吞火要么去”乐园幽径“饮松油，或死，或夜复一夜地作贱自己的躯体， 用梦幻，用，用清醒的恶梦，用酒精和和数不清的睾丸， 颤抖的乌云筑起无与伦比的死巷而脑海中的闪电冲往加拿大和培特森，照亮这两极之间死寂的时光世界， 摩根一般可信的大厅，后院绿树墓地上的黎明，屋顶上的醉态， 兜风驶过市镇上嗜茶的小店时那霓虹一般耀眼的车灯，太阳和月亮和布鲁克林呼啸黄昏里树木的摇撼， 垃圾箱的怒吼和最温和的思维之光， 他们将自己拴在地铁就着从巴特里到布隆克斯基地作没有穷尽的旅行直到车轮和孩子的响声唤醒他们， 浑身发抖嘴唇破裂，在灯光凄惨的动物园磨去了光辉的大脑憔悴而凄凉， 他们整夜沉浸于比克福德自助餐馆海底的灯光，漂游而出然后坐在寥落的福加基酒吧喝一 下午马尿啤酒，倾听命运在氢气点唱机上吱呀作响， 他们一连交谈七十个小时从公园到床上到酒吧到贝尔维医院到博物馆到布鲁克林大桥， 一迷惘的柏拉图式空谈家就着月光跳下防火梯跳下窗台跳下帝国大厦， 絮絮叨叨着尖叫着呕吐着窃窃私语着事实和回想和轶闻趣事和怒目而视的对抗和医院的休克和牢房和战争， 一代睿智之士两眼发光沉入七天七夜深沉的回忆，祭祀会堂的羔羊肉扔在砖石路上， 他们隐入新泽西禅宗子虚乌有乡留下一张张意义含糊的明信片，上面引着亚特兰大市政厅的风光， 在纽华克带家俱的幽暗房间里忍受药力消褪后的痛楚，东方的苦役，丹吉尔骨头的碾磨和中国的偏头痛， 他们徘徊在夜半的铁路调车场不知去往何方，前行，依然摆不脱忧伤， 他们在货车厢里点燃香烟吵闹着穿过雪地驰往始祖夜中孤寂的农场， 他们研究着鲁太阿斯、艾仑•坡和圣约翰之间的精神感应研究爵士乐中犹太的神秘学问因为在堪萨斯宇宙正在脚下本能地震颤， 他们孤独地穿行在艾达荷的大街小巷寻爱幻想的印第安天使因为他们是爱幻想的印第安天使， 他们只觉得欣喜万分因为巴尔的摩在超自然的狂喜中隐约可见， 他们带着俄克拉荷马的华人一头钻进轿车感受冬夜街灯小镇雨滴的刺激， 他们饥饿孤独地漫游在休斯敦寻爵士乐寻性寻羹汤， 他们尾随那位显赫的西班牙人要与他探讨美国和永恒，但宏愿无望，他们远渡非洲， 他们消逝在墨西哥的火山丛中无所牵挂只留下粗布工装的阴影而壁炉芝加哥便散满诗的熔岩和灰烬， 他们出没于西海岸留着胡须身穿短裤追查联邦调查局，他们皮肤深衬得反战主义者们睁大的双眼十分性感他们散发着费解的传单， 他们在胳膊上烙满香烟洞口抗议资本主义整治沉醉者的烟草阴霾， 他们在联合广场分发超共产主义小册子，哭泣，脱衣而洛塞勒摩斯的警笛却扫倒了他们， 扫倒了墙，斯塔登岛的渡船也哭号起来， 他们在空荡荡的健身房里失声痛哭赤身裸体，颤抖在另一种骨架的机械前， 他们撕咬侦探的后颈，在警车里兴奋地怪叫因为犯下的罪行不过是他们自己进行了狂野的鸡奸和， 他们跪倒在地铁里嚎叫，抖动着性器挥舞着手稿被拖下屋顶， 他们让神圣的摩托车手挺进自己的后部，还发出快活的大叫， 他们吞舔别人自己也被那些人类的六翼天使和水生抚弄，那是来自大西洋和加勒比海爱的摩挲， 他们造爱于清晨于黄昏于玫瑰园于公园和墓地草丛，他们的液体欢畅地撒向任何哪个可以达到高潮的人， 他们在土耳其浴室的隔墙后不停地打嗝试图挤出格格傻笑最后却只有哽咽啜泣，而金发碧眼的裸露天使就扑上前来要一剑刺穿他们， 他们失去了自己的爱侣全因那三只古老的命运地鼠，一只是独眼的异性恋美元一只挤出子宫直眨眼另一只径自剪断织布工匠智慧的金钱， 他们狂热而贪婪地交合手握一瓶啤酒一个情人一包香烟一只蜡烛从床上滚下， 又在地板上和客厅里继续进行直到最后眼中浮现出最后的阴门昏倒在墙壁上在意识消散的最后一刻达到高潮， 他们使一百万颤抖在落日下的姑娘享受甜蜜的时刻， 甜蜜的双眼在清晨布满血丝但仍然准备着领略日出时分的喜悦和谷仓里一闪即逝的屁股以及湖中的裸体， 他们浪荡于科罗拉多在偷来的各种夜车里奸宿娼妓，尼-卡，是这些诗句的主角， 这位丹佛的雄鸡和阿东尼－他的往事令人愉快，他放倒过无数的姑娘在空旷的建筑基地和餐车后部， 在电影院东倒西歪的椅子上，在山顶的洞中，或者在熟悉的幽径撩起憔悴的女侍生的衬裙，尤其在加油站，在厕所还有家乡胡同里的主观论， 他们渐渐消失在巨大的肮脏电影院里，在梦幻中被赶了出来，惊醒在突然出现的曼哈顿， 冷酷的葡萄酒和第三大街铁石之梦的恐怖驱散了他们地窖里的宿醉，既而一头跌进失业救济所的大门， 他们鞋子里渗透鲜血彻夜行走在积雪的船坞等待那条东方河流打开屋门通往一间贮满蒸气热和的房间， 他们攀上哈德逊河岸绝壁公寓的楼顶在战乱年代水银灯般的蓝月光下上演惨痛的自杀悲剧而他们的头颅将在冥府冕以桂冠， 他们食用想象的烧羊肉或在包瓦里污浊的沟渠底部消化螃蟹， 他们扶着装满洋葱和劣等音乐的手推车对着街头的浪漫曲哭泣， 他们走投无路地坐着吸进大桥底下的黑暗，然后爬上自己的阁楼建造大钢琴， 他们头戴火冠咳嗽在哈雷姆的六楼，结核的天空被神学的橘园围困， 他们整夜信笔涂鸦念着高深的咒语摇滚为卑怯的早晨留下一纸乱语胡言， 他们蒸煮腐坏的动物肺心脏蹄尾巴罗宋汤和玉蜀黍饼梦想着抽象的植物界， 他们一头钻进肉食卡车寻一枚鸡蛋， 他们把手表从楼顶扔下算作他们为时间之外的永恒投下一票，从此之后闹钟每日鸣响十年不得安宁， 他们成功不成功三次切开手腕，洗手不干又被迫橇开古玩商店他们在店里自觉苍老暗自悲戚， 他们在麦迪逊大街披着天真的法兰绒西服备受煎熬， 目睹低级诗会的狂欢和流行的铁汉们醉生梦死的笑闹和广告仙子们的尖叫和阴险而睿智的编辑们的芥子气， 还被绝对现实的出租车撞倒在地， 他们纵身跳下布鲁克林大桥这确有其事然后悄悄走开遁入雾蒙蒙的窄巷和水龙忘在唐人街的精神恍惚里，甚至顾不上一杯免费的啤酒， 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