| Song | Poems of Shape and Motion |
| Artist | Linton Kwesi Johnson |
| Album | More Time |
| 作词 : Carter, Johnson | |
| I was wondering if I could shape this passion | |
| Just as I wanted in solid fire. | |
| I was wondering if the strange combustion of my days | |
| The tension of the world inside of me | |
| And the strength of my heart were enough. | |
| I was wondering if I could stand as tall, | |
| While the tide of the sea rose and fell. | |
| If the sky would recede as I went, | |
| Or the earth would emerge as I came | |
| To the door of the morning, locked against the sun. | |
| I was wondering if I could make myself | |
| Nothing but fire, pure and incorruptible. | |
| The wound of the wind on my face | |
| Would be healed by the work of my life | |
| Or the growth of the pain in my sleep | |
| Would be stopped in the strife of my days. | |
| I am wondering if the agony of years | |
| Could be traced to the seed of an hour. | |
| If the roots that spread out in the swamp | |
| Ran too deep for the issuing flower. | |
| I was wondering if I could find myself | |
| All that I am in all that I could be. | |
| If all the population of stars | |
| Would be less than the things I could utter | |
| And the challenge of space in my soul | |
| Be filled by the shape I become. | |
| I walk slowly in the wind, | |
| Watching myself in things I did not make; | |
| In jumping shadows and in limping cripples | |
| Dust on earth and houses tight with sickness | |
| Deep constant pain, the dream without sleep. | |
| I walk slowly in the wind, | |
| Hearing myself in the loneliness of a child | |
| In woman's grief, which is not understood | |
| In coughing dogs when midnight lingers long | |
| On stones, on streets and then on echoing stars, | |
| That burn all night and suddenly go out. | |
| I walk slowly in the wind | |
| Knowing myself in every moving thing | |
| In years and days and words that mean so much | |
| Strong hands that shake, long roads that walk | |
| And deeds that do themselves. | |
| And all this world and all these lives to live. | |
| I walk slowly in the wind, | |
| Remembering scorn and naked men in darkness | |
| And huts of iron rivetted to earth. | |
| Cold huts of iron stand upon this earth | |
| Like rusting prisons | |
| Each is well marked and each wide roof is spread | |
| Like some dark wing | |
| Casting a shadow or living a curse. | |
| I walk slowly in the wind | |
| To lifted sunset red and gold and dim | |
| A long brown river slanting to an ocean | |
| A fishing boat, a man who cannot drown. | |
| I walk slowly in the wind | |
| And birds are swift, the sky is blue like silk. | |
| From the big sweeping ocean of water | |
| An iron ship rusted and brown achors itself. | |
| And the long river runs like a snake | |
| Silent and smooth. | |
| I walk slowly in the wind. | |
| I hear my footsteps echoing down the tide | |
| Echoing like a wave on the sand or a wing on the wind | |
| Echoing echoing | |
| A voice in the soul, a laugh in the funny silence. | |
| I walk slowly in the wind | |
| I walk because I cannot crawl or fly. |
| zuò cí : Carter, Johnson | |
| I was wondering if I could shape this passion | |
| Just as I wanted in solid fire. | |
| I was wondering if the strange combustion of my days | |
| The tension of the world inside of me | |
| And the strength of my heart were enough. | |
| I was wondering if I could stand as tall, | |
| While the tide of the sea rose and fell. | |
| If the sky would recede as I went, | |
| Or the earth would emerge as I came | |
| To the door of the morning, locked against the sun. | |
| I was wondering if I could make myself | |
| Nothing but fire, pure and incorruptible. | |
| The wound of the wind on my face | |
| Would be healed by the work of my life | |
| Or the growth of the pain in my sleep | |
| Would be stopped in the strife of my days. | |
| I am wondering if the agony of years | |
| Could be traced to the seed of an hour. | |
| If the roots that spread out in the swamp | |
| Ran too deep for the issuing flower. | |
| I was wondering if I could find myself | |
| All that I am in all that I could be. | |
| If all the population of stars | |
| Would be less than the things I could utter | |
| And the challenge of space in my soul | |
| Be filled by the shape I become. | |
| I walk slowly in the wind, | |
| Watching myself in things I did not make | |
| In jumping shadows and in limping cripples | |
| Dust on earth and houses tight with sickness | |
| Deep constant pain, the dream without sleep. | |
| I walk slowly in the wind, | |
| Hearing myself in the loneliness of a child | |
| In woman' s grief, which is not understood | |
| In coughing dogs when midnight lingers long | |
| On stones, on streets and then on echoing stars, | |
| That burn all night and suddenly go out. | |
| I walk slowly in the wind | |
| Knowing myself in every moving thing | |
| In years and days and words that mean so much | |
| Strong hands that shake, long roads that walk | |
| And deeds that do themselves. | |
| And all this world and all these lives to live. | |
| I walk slowly in the wind, | |
| Remembering scorn and naked men in darkness | |
| And huts of iron rivetted to earth. | |
| Cold huts of iron stand upon this earth | |
| Like rusting prisons | |
| Each is well marked and each wide roof is spread | |
| Like some dark wing | |
| Casting a shadow or living a curse. | |
| I walk slowly in the wind | |
| To lifted sunset red and gold and dim | |
| A long brown river slanting to an ocean | |
| A fishing boat, a man who cannot drown. | |
| I walk slowly in the wind | |
| And birds are swift, the sky is blue like silk. | |
| From the big sweeping ocean of water | |
| An iron ship rusted and brown achors itself. | |
| And the long river runs like a snake | |
| Silent and smooth. | |
| I walk slowly in the wind. | |
| I hear my footsteps echoing down the tide | |
| Echoing like a wave on the sand or a wing on the wind | |
| Echoing echoing | |
| A voice in the soul, a laugh in the funny silence. | |
| I walk slowly in the wind | |
| I walk because I cannot crawl or fly. |