只是孩子 · Dreamer
播放量：124 发布于：2019-04-18 1评论
Just Kids 《只是孩子》
On other days, we would visit art museums.
There was only enough money for one ticket, so one of us would go in, look at the exhibits, and report back to another.
On one such occasion, we went to the relatively new Whitney Museum on the Upper East Side.
It was my turn to go in, and I reluctantly entered without him.
I no longer remember the exhibit, but I do recall peering through one of the museum's unique trapezoidal windows, seeing Robert across the street, leaning against a parking meter, smoking a cigarette.
He waited for me, and as we headed toward the subway he said," One day we'll go in together, and the work will be ours."
For my 21st birthday, Robert made me a tambourine, tattooing the goatskin with astrological signs and tying multicolored ribbons to its base.
He put on Tim Buckley singing " Phantasmagoria in Two", then he knelt down and handed me a small book on the tarot that he had rebound in black silk.
Inside it he inscribed a few lines of poetry, portraying us as the gypsy and the fool, one creating silence, one listening closely to the silence.
In the clanging swirl of our lives, these roles would reverse many times.
The boy I had met was shy and inarticulate.
He liked to be led, to be taken by the hand and enter wholeheartedly another world.
He was masculine and protective, even as he was feminine and submissive.
Meticulous in his dress and demeanor, he was also capable of a frightening disorder within his work.
His own worlds were solitary and dangerous, anticipating freedom, ecstasy and release.
Robert trusted in the law of empathy, by which he could, by his will, transfer himself into an object or a work of art, and thus influence the outer world.
He did not feel redeemed by the work he did. He did not seek redemption. He sought to see what others did not, the projection of his imagination.
Robert responded as my beloved twin. His dark curls merged with the tangle of my hair as I shuddered tears.
Both of us had given ourselves to others.
We vacillated and lost everyone, but we had found one another again.
We wanted, it seemed, what we already had, a lover and a friend to create with, side by side. To be loyal, yet be free.
One late afternoon, we were walking down Eighth Street when we heard "Because the Night" blasting from one storefront after another.
Robert was the first listener after we recorded the song.
I had a reason for that. It was what he always wanted for me.
In the summer of 1978, it rose to number 13 on the Top 40 chart, fulfilling Robert's dream that I would one day have a hit record.
在一九八七年的夏天，它上升到top 40 榜的第十三名，实现了罗伯特对我有朝一日做出一张热门唱片的梦想。
Robert was unabashedly proud of my success.
What he wanted for himself, he wanted for us both.
He exhaled a perfect stream of smoke, and spoke in a tone he only used with me—a bemused scolding—admiration without envy, our brother-sister language. He drawled,"Patti, you got famous before me."