What is Ye Zhi's poem?

Ye Zhi (1865- 1939) won the Nobel Prize in Literature in 1923. The main poetry collections are Wind in the Reed, Responsibility and Tower.

Inniss Foley Island in the middle of the lake.

I want to get up and go to Philly Island, innis.

Build a hut there, with branches and walls covered with mud;

I want to keep a box of bees and grow nine rows of beans.

Living alone in the forest and grassland where bees are buzzing.

Peace will come to me there, and peace will slowly drip down.

Slip from the veil in the morning to the place where crickets sing;

It shimmers in the middle of the night and turns purple at noon.

Evening is full of cardinals' wings.

I have to get up and go, because from morning to night, from night to morning.

I heard the lake lapping gently against the coast;

Whether I stand on the road or on the gray sidewalk,

I always hear it calling in my heart.

(translated by Bai Fei)

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when you are old

When you are old, gray-haired and sleepy,

Take a nap in front of the stove, please take down this poem.

Back slowly, dreaming of your eyes.

Soft light and faint shadows;

How many people have loved your beauty with sincerity and hypocrisy,

Love your happy and charming youth,

Only one person loves your pilgrim heart,

Love the sadness on your aging face;

When you lean over the burning fireplace,

You will speak softly, with a hint of sadness:

The lost love has now set foot on the mountain.

Hide its face in a dense cluster of stars.

(translated by Bai Fei)

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Cole manor swan

The trees are covered with beautiful autumn clothes.

The path in the forest is very dry,

October dusk, flowing water

Reflect the quiet sky,

There are ripples on the stone,

Fifty-nine swans are swimming.

Ever since I first counted them,

Nineteen degrees of autumn has passed,

I saw it before I could count it again.

They all flew at once.

Flapping their wings loudly,

Form a big and broken circle to fly.

I stared at these dazzling swans,

At the moment, I feel a surge of sadness.

Everything has changed, since the first time by the river,

It's also dusk,

I heard swans flapping their wings on my head.

So the pace is more agile.

Not tired, lovers,

In the cold and friendly river

Forward or spread your wings and fly into the air,

Their hearts are still young,

Wherever they drift, they

Always have passion and win love.

Now they are floating on the calm water,

Mysterious, beautiful and moving,

But one day I woke up and they had already flown away.

Oh, which reeds will they live in,

Which pool, which lake,

Is it pleasing to the eye?

(Translated by Qiu Xiaolong)

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The return of Christ

Rotating on an outwardly expanding rotating body,

Falcons can no longer hear their master's call.

Everything is scattered, and the center can no longer be maintained.

The world is full of chaos,

The tide of bloody chaos is surging,

Innocent manners are everywhere;

Excellent people lose confidence,

The bad guys are full of fiery fanaticism.

There is no doubt that God's revelation is coming.

There is no doubt that Christ will come back.

The return of Christ! These words haven't been said yet,

Dazzling is the beast from the big memory:

In the desert, the shape of the head and the lion's body,

As cold as the sun,

Move your leg slowly and it will turn in circles.

Angry birds fly in the desert.

Darkness came again, and now I understand.

Twenty centuries of deep lethargy,

Had an annoying nightmare in the rotating cradle,

What kind of crazy beast, finally wait until the time,

Lazily fall into the holy land and be reborn?

(translated by Yuan Kejia)

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Lida and Swan

Sudden attack: on the tottering girl,

A pair of huge wings are still flapping, and there are a pair of black webbed wings.

Touching her thigh, the goose beak holding her neck,

His chest clings to hers.

Fingers, in a daze, how can I have the ability?

Push Bai Rong away from his loose legs?

Bodies, overturned in white waves,

I only feel a strange heartbeat!

My waist and thighs trembled. It came out.

Broken walls, the podium is full of smoke and flames.

And the death of Agamemnon.

When she was possessed.

The local area was conquered by the blood in the sky.

Until the cold beak let her go,

Did she gain his strength and knowledge?

(translated by Bai Fei)

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At the foot of Bumble Mountain

1

With the light waves around Mariotik

Everything those saints said, they swore,

The witches of Atlas must know,

Say it and let the chicken crow.

With those knights and women-body shape and skin color.

Prove that they are really superman, swear,

A pale and lanky partner,

Forever, ever-vibrant air,

Won their enthusiastic integrity;

At the moment, they are accelerating at dawn in winter.

Benben Mountain is the scenery behind them.

These are the main points they want to say.

2

Many times, one person dies and one person lives.

After their two deaths,

The afterlife of the nation, the afterlife of the soul,

Old Ireland is familiar with all this.

Whether a person dies in bed,

Or a gunshot killed him,

Temporarily separated from loved ones.

Is everyone's biggest fear.

Although grave diggers work long hours,

Their shovels are sharp and their muscles are strong.

They're just the people who buried them.

Pushed back into the human brain.

three

You heard Mitchell's prayer:

"Lord, ending our era has brought war!"

You know, everything has been said,

A man is fighting like crazy,

Something that falls from a blind eye,

He finished his incomplete thinking.

So I stood quietly for a while,

Laugh loudly and your heart will be quiet.

Even the smartest person on the mission,

Before job understanding and partner selection,

All because of some kind of violence,

I always feel so nervous.

four

Poets and sculptors, working in your,

Don't let that fashionable painter hide.

What his great ancestors did,

Bring the human soul before God,

Let him fill the cradle correctly.

Measurement begins our strength,

-A typical Egyptian put the concept of shape,

The image created by gentle phidias.

On the roof of the Sistine Chapel,

Michelangelo left a proof;

There, just a half-awake Adam.

Will make women who travel around the world panic,

Finally, her heart was full of passion.

Prove that there is a predetermined purpose,

Before the idea of working in secret appeared,

Human perfection is actually ordinary.

A master of Italy in the fifteenth century,

When designing the background of God and saints,

Always painting gardens where the soul is calm,

Everything people see,

Flowers, fragrant leather, cloudless sky in Wan Li,

How like a sleeping person waking up and dreaming,

See those shapes that seem to be like this.

The shape disappeared, leaving only the bed.

And bedsteads, still claiming

The door of heaven is open.

Oh, spin

A bigger dream disappeared,

Calvert and Wilson, Blake and Claude,

Let those who believe in God rest in peace,

Palmer's words, right? But after that,

Our thoughts are full of confusion and sadness.

five

Irish poet, study hard,

Singing all the beautiful things,

The kind that despises from head to toe

Lost the mystery of appearance,

Their minds and hearts lack memory—

A crude product on a crude bed.

Singing farmers, and then

A country gentleman on horseback,

The holiness of monks, imitation

People who drink bitter beer laugh wildly;

Singing cheerful jazz and ladies,

It was in the seventh century of heroes.

Form the most fundamental essence;

Let your mind think about other days,

In this way, we can still

Become an invincible Irishman.

six

Under the bare mountain,

Ye Zhi is located in the center of Ramcliffe Cemetery.

An ancestor used to be the principal there,

Many years ago, there was a church nearby.

On the roadside, it is an ancient cross.

There is no marble tablet, and there is no rhetoric;

On the limestone collected nearby,

It was carved according to his instructions:

For life, for death.

Cast a cold glance.

Knight, move forward!

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19/kloc-Easter in 0/6

I met them at dusk,

They look very lively.

From the gray house in the eighteenth century

Leave the counter or desk and come out.

Ceng Dian nodded when I passed them.

Or say meaningless hello,

Or spent some time among them,

After another polite and meaningless conversation,

I thought of it before I finished.

A satirical story or joke,

In order to sit by the fire in the club,

Talking about having fun with your partner,

Because I believe we are just.

Make a living where you play the clown;

But everything has changed, completely changed:

A terrible beauty was born.

That woman during the day.

In naive goodwill,

She spent all her nights arguing,

The argument made her hoarse and blushed.

She is young and mature. Why does she have a voice?

Better than her voice,

When she chased rabbits for hunting?

This man runs a school,

Will also ride our flying horse;

The other, his assistant and friend,

Also joined his ranks;

His ideas are bold and excellent,

And maybe a sensitive nature.

He will finally gain popularity.

The other guy is rude.

What a vain drunkard, I think.

He once told someone in my heart.

Did some of the most boring moves,

But in this song, I want to mention him:

He also learned from absurd comedies.

Resign from his post;

He, like everyone else,

Changed, completely changed:

A terrible beauty was born.

Many people have only one purpose in their hearts.

After summer, after winter,

It's like being possessed and turned to stone,

Disturb the fountain of life.

Horses from the road,

Riders, from the clouds

Birds fly to the billowing clouds,

It changes every minute;

The shadow of floating clouds fell on the stream.

It changes every minute;

A horseshoe slipped by the water,

A horse fluttered in the water;

Long-legged female grouse swooped down,

Giggling at the male grouse;

They live every minute;

The stone is in the middle of all this.

Too long a sacrifice.

Can turn the heart into stone.

Oh, when will it be enough?

That's God's business, our business.

It's mumbling a bunch of names,

It's like a mother talking about her children.

When sleep finally covers

Limbs that run wildly all day.

Isn't that the night coming?

No, no, not night, but death;

Is this death unnecessary?

Because Britain may keep its faith,

No matter what you say or do.

We know their dreams;

Until they dream and die.

This is enough; Why care too much about love?

Confuse them before they die?

I write them in poetry—

McDonagh and Connolly,

Pierce and McBree,

Now and in the future, no matter where.

As long as the surface is green,

Changed, completely changed:

A terrible beauty was born.

Translated by Cha Liang Zheng.

-

Balloon of thoughts

(The following two songs are translated by Mung Bean)

Hands, do as I say;

A balloon that pulls the mind.

Expand and float in the wind.

Reach its narrow hut.

-

Saints and camels

Stand up, raise your hand and start.

Pray for blessings

For a man who has tasted the bitter fruit.

In the process of recalling his lost reputation.

A Roman Caesar also gave in.

Under this hump.

sage

God tests everyone.

According to various ways.

I shouldn't stop praising, because

I'm beating myself with a whip.

Maybe that night and early in the morning, I can drive away.

Alexander the Greek hidden in my body,

Augustus Caesar came after them.

Then there's the great deadbeat Alsi Budd.

hunchback

For all the people standing in your body

And I want to express my gratitude to those who pray and pray.

Give them respect only according to their rank,

But the vast majority will be left to Alsi Budd.

Precautions:

Alkki Buades: 450-404 BC, Athenian politician and general.

Mung bean translation

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Sail to Byzantium

That's not a country for the elderly. young people

Hug each other; The dying generation,

Birds in the tree are singing;

Fish waterfall, the sea is full of blue and white fish,

Fish, animals or birds praise all summer.

Everything that exists in life and death.

Addicted to the music of the senses, everyone neglected.

An eternal monument to reason.

An aging old man is just a waste,

It was a tattered coat propped on a stick,

Unless the soul clapped its hands and sang, for its sake.

Every crack in the skin sings louder;

But there is no school to teach singing, only

Study the glory recorded on the monument,

So I crossed the ocean to come here.

The sacred castle of Byzantium.

Oh, smart guy! Standing in the flame of God,

Like the golden eagle on the mural,

Coming out of the divine fire, spinning in the sky,

Please be the singing teacher of my soul.

Burning my heart, it's tied to a

Dying flesh, corroded by desire,

I don't know what it used to be; Please ... as soon as possible

Collect me into the eternal artistic arrangement.

Once I'm divorced from nature, I won't be divorced from it.

Any natural object has my shape,

As long as the Greek goldsmith used gold glaze

Hammer gold,

Supply the sleepy emperor to stay awake;

Or sing on a golden branch

Everything past, present and future.

The nobles and ladies of Byzantium

Translated by Cha Liang Zheng.

-

Among schoolchildren

1

I asked as I walked, and from the long classroom,

The kind old nun wearing a white headscarf answered this question.

Children learn to do arithmetic and practice singing.

Learn all kinds of books and history,

Cutting and sewing should be neat,

This style is the best and the latest-children from time to time.

Out of curiosity, it is inevitable to look up and pay attention.

A 60-year-old smiling big shot.

2

I meditated on people like Rita.

She leaned over the dying fire and talked about her childhood.

Severe reprimand is still a trivial matter.

A day that caused tragedy in children's hearts-

This lecture is our two young hearts.

It's like melting in a separate space out of sympathy,

Or, to paraphrase Plato's famous metaphor,

Into the egg yolk and protein, into a whole.

three

I remembered the sadness or anger of that year.

I'll look at this child and that child again.

Guess if she had such manners-

Because the swan's daughter will also suffer all this.

Every genetic endowment of wading birds—

Also have the same color hair and face,

When I think about it, my heart beats wildly.

She lived in front of me and became a girl.

four

Her present image floated into my heart,

Is it the shaping of hands in the fifteenth century?

His cheeks sagged as if he were just breathing air.

Just swallow enough shadows?

Although I was never a descendant of Rita,

Beautiful feathers.-That's enough, good,

It's best to smile at everyone to show respect.

The old grass lives quite comfortably.

five

Young mother, with a figure on her lap.

That is "reproductive honey" leaked to the skin of the world.

According to memory, I decided to "forget to take medicine"

Must sleep, shout, struggle to escape),

What would you think of her son? I only saw the top of her head.

The white sky is covered with the wind and light of sixty winters.

She thinks she has repaid the pain of having a son.

Worried about your future after joining the WTO?

six

Plato thinks that nature is just a bubble.

A ghostly kaleidoscope that teases things;

Solid Aristotle waved birch sticks,

Will whip the ass of the king of kings;

Pythagoras' golden femur is well known,

You can find out by fiddling with the bow or strings.

The stars are singing and lazily composing the harmony heard by God:

Tie a piece of cloth on the old pole to scare the birds!

seven

Both nuns and mothers worship idols,

But the candlelight can't.

Arouse any mother's wishful thinking,

Only stone statues or bronze statues can rest in peace.

But they are also heartbreaking-many shadows,

Passion, piety and love are supreme familiarity!

All the glitz symbolized by the highest honor,

A mocker of human enterprise!

eight

Hard work itself is flowering, dancing,

As long as the body hurts itself but doesn't please the soul,

Beauty does not come from regret,

Confused wisdom does not come from the night.

Chestnut tree, gorgeous flower treasure with roots,

Are you a leaf, a flower or a rhizome?

Swinging body with music, burning eyes!

How can I tell a dancer from a dancer?

Bian's translation

-

Radial

The old stone face turned and looked forward;

If you think too much, you can't think any more;

Because beauty dies from beauty and value dies from value,

Ancient features have disappeared in human hands.

Unreasonable blood flow polluted the fields;

Empedocles threw everything on the ground;

Hector is dead, and Troy is bright;

We just watched the laughter of sadness and joy.

If a numb nightmare rides on your head,

Blood and sludge cover sensitive bodies-

So what? Don't sigh, don't be sad,

A greater and more moving era has disappeared;

For painted car bodies and cosmetic boxes,

I sighed in the ancient tomb, but I never sighed again;

So what? A voice came from the hole,

It only knows one word "hi!"

Behavior and work become thicker and thicker, and the soul becomes thicker and thicker.

So what? The ancient stone face looked at everything kindly;

People who love horses and women will be taken from

In the broken tomb of marble

Or chickens, minks and owls in the dark

Or dig in any rich, dark nothingness,

Workers, nobles, saints, all these things.

Similarly, the unfashionable rotation makes the rotation endless.

(Translated by Qiu Xiaolong)

-

Where is my book?

All the words I have learned,

All the words I wrote,

You must spread your wings and fly tirelessly.

Never stay in flight,

Fly all the way to where your sad heart is,

At night in song for you,

In the distance, the river is flowing,

Dark clouds or bright stars.

(Translated by Qiu Xiaolong)

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