一代拳王（1996）

you turn your back on him.
(享年84岁)
有一次阿里给哈佛毕业生致辞
I heard him once talking to the
Harvard senior class commencement.
他有阅读障碍 但他的演讲还是很精彩
He gave this extraordinary speech,
you know he was dyslexic,
他过来问我
and he would look
at a paper and say,
“这个词什么意思” 我说 “阑尾炎”
“What does this word mean?”
I’d say, “Appendicitis.”
他说 “怎么会有这么难读的词”
He’d say, “How d’you get a word
like appendicitis? It’s so long.”
他在2000名哈佛毕业生
Here he was delivering a lecture,
面前做演讲
senior class day with these
1,000, 2,000 Harvard graduates,
讲台上备着题词小卡片
and…he had these little cards
in front of him.
阿里讲到自己没有机会接受良好教育
He gave this wonderful speech
about he hadn’t had the opportunity
但是他们有 他们能让这个世界变得更好
but they had and they should use that
to make the world a better place.
演讲既感人又有趣 最后大家都起立鼓掌
It was moving and funny, and a great
roar of appreciation at the end.
有人喊道 “作首诗”
Then someone shouted out,
“Give us a poem!”
全场安静下来
And everybody quieted down.
在一本语录百科全书中 最短的诗
Now, the shortest poem according
to Bartlett’s Quotations is called
诗题是 “远古的跳蚤”
“On the Antiquity of Microbes”
诗词是 “亚当也有跳蚤”
and the poem is “Adam had ’em.”
够短了吧
Pretty short.
但阿里的诗是
But Muhammad Ali’s poem was
“我 我们”
“Me, we.”
两个词
Two words.
我给语录百科写信说 “阿里这首更短”
I wrote Bartlett’s Quotations
and I said, “Look, that’s shorter.”
这其中的意义超越了诗的内涵
It stands for something more
than the poem itself.
“我 我们” 阿里不愧是一代拳王
“Me, we.” What a fighter he was.
And what a man.
# Refugee cat… Ali, boma ye
# Yes, yes… Rumble in the jungle
# Come on!
# Root to the fruit
more bass than Bootsy Collins
# You versus me
that’s like Ali versus Foreman
# God’s act, stand back and watch
# Devil’s time-out
can’t be timed with no Swatch watch
# Who I am, the Black Abraham
# Zunga zunga zang
yellow man, Vietnam
# Add an extra bar
as I spar with literature
# Taking kingdoms from Tsars
# Winning more wars than the Moors
# Hey, what’s the deal?
I seen the Devil spar with Allah
# Mathematics was the key
to set my whole race free
# You might debate we,
a refugee no harm hurt me
# Dying, thirsty from the struggle
to my own hustle bubble
# On the low, woe is me
to show the Free Bob right
# The righteous Asiatic thinker
# While Satan rob light
# Civilised like the Molly
# Burgundy, wildly rocking
# Seen the fifth when Ali clocked him
# John Forte will keep you locked in
# People all around
you got to recognise and witness
# The Mister who swift enough
to knock you out with mic fitness
# Hands blistered
from holding the mic tight
# Some say it’s fight night
# Well, throw the R after the F
cos I’m gonna take away your breath
# The bell rings
and it’s just a daily operation
# Yo, you saw my lubrication
you can see this occupation
# (The winner)
You know we’re here from Q-borough
# L-Booie and Clef the trainers
Prazwell promote the throw
# We used to bite the bullets
with the pigskin cases
# Now we perfect slang
like a gang of street masons
# Scribe check make connects
true pyramid architects
# Replace the last name with the X
# The man’s got a God complex
# But take the text
change the picture
# Watch Muhammad play the messenger
like holy Moslem scripture
# Take orders from only God
only one when it’s jihad
# See Ali appears in Zaire
to reconnect 400 years
# But we’re the people
dark but equal
# Give love to such things
# For the man who made the fam’
remember when we were kings
# Block’s on fire
# Flames getting higher
# Robbin’ blue collar
# Killin’ for a dollar
# Youths get tired
# We’re dealin’ with them liars
# From Brooklyn to Zaire
# We need a ghetto messiah
# Send me an angel
in the morning, baby
# Send me an angel
in the morning, darling
# Send me Muhammad
in the morning, baby
# Send me an angel
in the morning, darling
# Once the pen hits the pad
it’s danger
# To this I’ll be no stranger
# Step inside the ring
and I’ll derange you
# I’m hearing no comments
everyone looks despondent
# Dejected, rejected
similar to Liston catching licks
# Beat it, Sonny, my man
is still the greatest in history
# To hell with Frazier,
yapping about that negative shit
# Now, listen, you can try
and escape if you want to
# But ask yourself
who the hell you gonna run to?
# Like Sade Abu
you got a punch that I can sleep to
# Fugees, Tribe, Busta Rhymes
forever coming through
# You sing Amazing Grace
over two dollar plates
# One roll, snake-eyes,
like Jake the Snake
# Many lies, put up for stakes,
wash our sins at the Great Lakes
# You and I cannot see eye-to-eye
so therefore we can’t relate
# I’m here
when I make myself crystal clear
# You fled to Cape Fear
when I aced you up in Zaire
# Tussle with a lasso
in the Royal Rumble
# Separate boys from men
in the concrete jungle
# I remember when Cassius Clay
flipped the script
# Taking trips to Zimbabwe
# Africans started calling the God
Ali, boma ye!
# It be the God stricken,
God nutrition, lightly stricken
# Blow that make you feel
like you was poison bitten
# Ha! Yo, I’m ’bout to blister
you and your sister
# Predicting every ass whipping
before my fights, my nigga
# This be your last warning
once you walk past the doorman
# Ali and Foreman gonna lock ass
until the morning
# Marvellous finances
provided by Joseph Mobutu
# Special guests of honour
like the Archbishop Desmond Tutu
# We watched the Rumble In The Jungle
# To see who be the targeted uncle
to be the first to fall and fumble
# Nuff blows they getting thrown
like solid milestones
# Internally shaking up niggas
imbalance your chromosomes
# With the force
of a thousand warriors
# When I bust your ass
identify me as the lord victorious
# Blocks on fire
# Flames getting higher
# Robbing blue collar
# Killing for a dollar
# Youths get tired
# We’re dealing with them liars
# From Brooklyn to Zaire
# We need a ghetto Messiah #