Problem description:
Our English homework ~ ~
Famous foreign poets and their masterpieces ~ ~
Five ~ ~ and one of their poems ~ ~
Please. !
Analysis:
I recommend the following poets and their poems, all of which are familiar.
1, W.B. Ye Zhi (William Bart Ye Zhi, England) This is my favorite English poet. Recommend a short song.
He wants clothes from heaven.
If I had embroidered cloth from heaven,
Wrapped in gold and silver light.
Blue, dull and dark clothes,
Night, light and half bright and half dark.
I'll spread the cloth under your feet,
But I am poor and only have dreams.
I spread my dream at your feet,
Tread gently, because you step on my dream.
Wedding clothes in the kingdom of heaven
If one day Sun Jin,
I am willing to pave the way for you.
Gold inlaid with silver,
Light and shadow don't stop day and night
Poor families are hard to find,
Only replace it with dreams.
Be careful, be careful,
My dream was shattered.
Like many people, my favorite translation of this poem is Ju Haoran's, which is not only vivid, but also very quaint. )
2. percy bysshe shelley (this is the famous Shelley in Britain)
cloud
I bring fresh rain to the longing flowers,
From the sea and streams;
I covered the leaves with light shade.
In their noon dreams.
The awakened dew shook off my wings.
Every sweet bud,
When rocking against their mother's plump breasts,
When she dances around the sun.
I waved the flail of hail,
White green plains,
Then I dissolved it in the rain,
You smiled when I walked through the thunder.
Cloud (excerpt)
I long for flowers, from rivers and oceans.
Bring fresh showers;
I put a faint shadow on the green leaves when they
Shake off the dew on my wings and wake me up.
Every sweet bud,
Their mother swayed as she danced around the sun.
Hold them in your arms and sleep.
I waved the flail of hail and put the green leaves.
Jumping like a silver coat,
Then I melted the ice and snow with rain, and I burst out laughing.
When I pass through the thunder.
(I didn't recommend ode to the west wind on purpose. )
3. Willam Wordsworth (Britain, a famous poet of Lakeside Poetry School)
There are seven of us
A simple child,
Took a deep breath,
Feel its life in every limb,
It should know what death is.
I met a little village girl:
She said she was eight years old;
Her hair is thick and curly.
Gather on her head.
She has a rural forest flavor,
She was wearing strange clothes;
Her eyes are fair, very fair;
Her beauty delighted me.
Sister and brother, Meidochan,
How many people do you have? '
How many/much? "Seven in all," she said.
And looked at me doubtfully.
Where are they? I beg you to tell me. "
She replied, "There are seven of us;
Our people in Conway apartment,
And o are all at sea.
Two of us were lying in the church yard,
My sister and my brother;
In the hut in the church yard, I
Living near them with my mother. '
You said that at Conway residence,
And o are all at sea,
But you are only seven years old! I pray you tell me,
Lovely girl, how is that possible? '
Meidochan replied:
Seven boys and girls are us;
Two of us were lying in the church yard,
Under the tree in the church yard. '
You run up, my Meidochan,
Your limbs are alive;
If you lie in the churchyard,
You were only five years old. '
Their graves are green, and they may see them. "
Meidochan replied:
Twelve steps or more from my mother's door,
They are side by side.
I often knit socks there,
My headscarf hem;
I sat on the ground,
Sing them a song.
Usually after sunset, sir,
When the sun is shining,
I am wearing my little bell,
Eat my dinner there.
Sister Jane was the first to die;
She lay in bed moaning,
Until god relieved her pain;
Then she left.
So she was put in the church yard;
When the grass is dry,
We played around her grave together,
My brother John and I.
When the earth is covered with snow,
I can run and slide,
My brother John was forced to leave,
He lay beside her. '
"So, how many people are there," I said.
"If they are in heaven,"
Meidochan answered quickly,
Ah, master! "The seven of us,"
But they are already dead; Those o's are all dead!
Their souls are in heaven! '
Twas throws away words; Stationary
Meidochan will have her will,
Say, "no, we are seven!" "
"Seven of us"
A simple child,
He breathed, so lightly,
Every hand and foot is full of life,
He doesn't care what death is.
I met a little girl,
She lives in a cottage in the country and says she is eight years old.
She has wild hair,
Head, one by one.
She is very rustic,
Dressed casually, out of shape,
Her eyes are beautiful, really beautiful,
-Her beauty makes me happy.
"Little girl," I asked,
"How many brothers and sisters do you have?"
"A few? One * * * seven. " She replied:
Look at me. I want to know what happened.
"Tell me, where are they?"
She replied, "One, seven,
Two go sailing,
Two live in Conway.
"Two brothers and sisters,
Buried in the grave.
Get close to them, cabin.
Mom lives with me. "
"You said you two would go sailing,
Two live in Conway.
But there are seven of you,
Lovely girl, this is a problem. "
The little girl still supposedly:
"The seven of us are not bad."
(This article was translated by Hu Xuyi and Li Ao)
4. Emily Dickinson (American, female hermit)
I died for beauty.
I die for beauty-but rarely.
Adjust in the grave
When a man who died for the truth is buried.
In the next room—
He asked softly, "Why did I fail"?
"For beauty," I replied.
"In fact, they and I are one.
He said, "We are brothers."
In this way, like a night—
We were talking in the room-
Until the moss grows to our lips—
Our names—
I died for beauty.
I died for beauty and for the grave.
Hardly used to it.
Martyr of truth
Became my immediate neighbor—
He asked me softly, "Why did you fall?" ?
I answered him, "for beauty."
He said, "I support truth, truth and beauty-
Is a, we are brothers "-
In this way, like relatives, meet at night-
We talked across the room—
Until moss grows on our lips—
Cover up our names—
There are many translations of this poem, but I like this one best. It's simple. )
5. Eliot (USA)
wasteland
I. Burying of the dead
April is the cruelest month, breeding.
Lilacs in the land of the dead, mixed
Memories and desires, agitation
Dark roots of spring rain.
Let's keep warm in winter, covering 5.
The earth is covered with snow and nourished.
Small life of tuber stem.
Summer surprised us and crossed Lake Sta Enberg.
There is a shower; We stopped at the colonnade,
Continue in the sunshine and enter Hof Park. 10
Drinking coffee and chatting for an hour.
I don't like Russian, I like German.
When we were children, we lived in the Grand Duke's house.
My cousin's, he took me sledding,
I feel horrible. He said, Mary, 15
Mary, hold on tight. We're going down.
You feel free in the mountains.
I read books in the middle of the night and go to the south in winter.
What is a firm root and what branches grow?
From all this stone rubbish? Son of man, 20 years old
You can't say or guess, because you only know.
A pile of broken images, where the sun is beating,
Dead trees have no shelter, crickets have no relief,
Dry stones can't hear the sound of running water. only
There is a shadow under this red rock, 25
(coming in under the shadow of this red rock),
I'll show you something different
Your shadow strode behind you in the morning
Or your shadow rises to meet you at dusk;
I will show you my fear in a handful of dust. 30
Frish Weidefeng
Hello.
My Irish,
How do you think?
You gave me hyacinthus orientalis for the first time a year ago; 35
They call me hyacinthus orientalis girl.
However, when we came back from hyacinthus orientalis Garden, it was very late.
Your arms are full and your hair is wet. I can't.
Say, my eyes failed, I am neither.
I am alive and not dead, I know nothing, 40
Look at the center of light, silence.
Oh, look at me.
The famous clairvoyant Mrs. Sosos,
However, I have a bad cold.
Considered the smartest woman in Europe, 45 years old.
With an evil deck of cards. Here, she said,
It's your card, the drowned Phoenician sailor,
Those pearls are his eyes. Look! )
This is belladonna, the goddess of rocks,
Situation, ma 'am. 50
This is the man with three sticks, and this is the wheel.
This is the one-eyed businessman, this card,
It's blank, it's what he's carrying,
I'm forbidden to watch it. I didn't find it.
A hanged person. Afraid of water death. 55
I saw the crowd walking around in a circle.
Thank you. If you see dear Mrs. Aquidon,
Tell her I brought my own horoscope:
People must be very careful now.
City of Illusion, 60
Under the brown fog of winter dawn,
There are so many people moving on the London Bridge.
I didn't expect death to destroy so many people.
Sigh, short and rare, exhale,
Everyone's eyes were fixed on his feet. 65
Flowing to the mountains and king William street,
St. Mary Woolnorth's punctual place
In the last loud noise at nine o'clock.
There, I saw a man I knew. I stopped him and shouted, "Stetson!
You're on my boat with me! 70
The body you planted in your garden last year,
Has it started to sprout? Will it bloom this year?
Or did the sudden frost disturb its bed?
Oh, don't let the dog near, it's a friend of human beings.
Or he'll dig it out with his nails! 75
You! Hypocrite lecter! "My love, my love!"
wasteland
First, the funeral of the deceased.
April is the cruelest, coming back from the dead.
The land is pregnant with lilacs and mixed with them.
Memory and desire make the spring rain.
Stirring the dull roots.
Winter keeps us warm and makes the earth turn.
Buried in forgotten snow, dried up.
The light bulb has a little life.
Summer comes unexpectedly with showers.
Arriving in Stambogesi, we hid under the porch,
When the sun comes out, we will go to Haval Garden.
I went for coffee and talked a little.
I am not Russian, originally from Lithuania, but a pure German.
When we were children, we were guests of the Dagong family.
That's my cousin. He took me skiing.
I was scared to death. He said, Mary, Mary,
Hold on tight. So we rushed down.
In the mountains, you will feel very comfortable.
Reading in the middle of the night and going to the south in winter.
What root is supporting this? What branch is it?
Growing out of this stone? Son of man,
You can't say or guess, because you only know.
A pile of broken images, slapped by the sun,
And dead trees have no shade, and crickets don't relax people.
Dry stones cannot make the sound of running water. have only
There is a shadow under a red rock.
Come on, please walk into the shadow under this red rock.
I want to show you something different from.
Your shadow in the morning follows you.
Nor is it like your shadow at dusk, rising to meet you,
I want you to know that fear is just a pinch of dust.
The wind is fresh,
Blowing to my hometown,
My Irish child,
Where are you now?
"You first gave me hyacinthus orientalis a year ago,
They all call me hyacinthus orientalis Oriental Girl. "
But when we walked back from hyacinthus orientalis Garden, it was getting late.
Your arms are full, your hair is wet,
I can't talk, I can't see, I
Neither born nor dead, knowing nothing,
Look at the center of light, where there is silence.
Desolate and empty is the sea.
Mrs Sotheby's, a famous fortune teller,
Had a bad cold, but still.
The smartest woman in Europe,
She has a pair of cards of ghosts and elves. Here, she said,
Your card, the drowned Phoenician sailor,
Those pearls were once his eyes. Look! )
This is Belle Bella Mona, the woman of the rock.
A woman with multiple experiences.
This is a man with three sticks. This is a roulette wheel.
This is the one-eyed businessman and this card.
It's empty. He carries it on his back.
Don't let me see it. I can't find it.
A hanged person. Be careful not to die in the water.
I saw the crowd in a circle.
Thank you. If you see Mrs. Iquitone,
Just say I brought my own map:
Nowadays people have to be careful.
An imaginary city,
Under the brown fog in winter morning,
A group of people crossed London Bridge. Oh, too many.
I didn't expect death to destroy so much.
Sigh, occasionally make a short hiss,
Everyone's eyes are fixed on their feet.
Up the hill, along King William Street,
Until St. Mary Urno's church
The big clock on the bridge is sinking, and it rings for the last time at nine o'clock.
There I met an acquaintance and stopped him:
"Stetson! You remember when we were on the boat!
The body you planted in the garden last year,
Is it sprouting? Can it blossom this year?
Or did the sudden frost disturb its flower beds?
Oh, don't drive the dog away. It's a friend of mankind.
Or he'll dig it up again with his claws!
You, hypocritical reader-my own kind, my brother! "
This poem has five verses, and this is only the first verse.
The above are all famous English poets and works, which should be enough for homework. If your teacher doubts this, er, does she/he really always speak English?
I try my best to find the answer for you. If you can really understand them and like them, I will be very happy:)