Byron's Poems 1. Go to Luoqin Yijia, your gorgeous scenery, your rose garden! Let the rich darling wander in your eyes; Give me back the precipitous rock, where the snow sleeps peacefully, although it still remembers the trauma of freedom and love.
However, Caledoni, how magnificent your peaks are: on that snow-white mountain top, despite the high sky and strong wind, despite the turbulent waterfalls and no soothing springs, I miss the dark Loquena period and sigh. Oh, my little footsteps wander there every day. I wear a Scottish hat and a flowery coat, meditating on some long-lost patriarchs in my mind, and wandering along the path shaded by pine trees; I lingered until the sunset glow was replaced by the shining Polaris, because the old story stirred my fantasy, oh, it was the spread of the dark Loquenaka mountain people.
"alas, the ghost of the dead! Didn't I hear your voices rising in the rolling night wind? " It must be a hero's ghost, happy and noisy, driving a long wind and galloping in the valley of his plateau! Near Loquenaka, whenever the wind and cloud gather, Winter Cold comes to station in his ice cart: the clouds there swirl around the traces of my ancestors, who lived under the dark phoenix storm of Loquenaka period. "Unfortunately and brave men! Isn't there a bad omen that your greatness has been abandoned by fate? " Ah, although you were doomed to die in Claughton, your downfall did not win a cheering victory.
But you are still happy in the mud eversleeping, and you and your people rest in peace together in the Brema Mountain Cave; The Scottish bagpipe is singing in the dark mountains, and your deeds are echoed in the mountains of Loqunaga. Luoqunajia, I have been away from you year after year, and how many years will it take before I can set foot on you again! Although nature didn't decorate you with green fields and flowers, you are more precious than the plain summer in Albion.
oh, England, from the perspective of the wanderers in the distant mountains, your beautiful scenery is too gentle and small, which makes me yearn for the majestic and rough cliffs and the gloomy and sinister eventuality of Loqunaja. 2. The inscription on a signature album in Malta is like a cold tombstone. The name of the deceased makes passers-by stunned. When you turn to this page, my name will attract your thoughtful eyes.
Maybe one day, after reading this register, you will read my name silently. Please remember me, just like the dead, and believe that my heart is buried here. 3, "As long as I restrain it again", as long as I restrain it again, I will get rid of the cramps that separate my heart; The last time I sighed for you and love, I will go back to my busy life.
I'm happy-go-lucky now, and I'm good at muddling along, although these things have never appealed to me. Even if all the fun in the world has flown away, what sadness can make me sad again? Bring me wine and set me a feast. People are not fit to live alone. I will be an unintentional prodigal son, laugh with everyone, and don't grieve with others. I'm not like this in a beautiful day, and I wouldn't have been like this. If you hadn't passed away and left me alone, you would have turned into nothingness-everything would have lost its meaning.
I want to play and sing my harp smartly! A smile reluctantly made by "sadness" is like a rose covered on a stone tomb, but it is a mockery of the hidden sadness. Although I have a happy friend to drink, I can temporarily drive away full of complaints; Although laughter ignited the mad soul, this heart-this heart is still lonely! Many times, on quiet and lonely nights, I gazed at the sky with comfort, because I guessed that the silver light of this heaven was sweetly shining in your contemplative eyes; Often, when Cynthia is high in the sky, when I sail through the waves of the Aegean Sea, I will think, "Cesar is looking at the bright moon"-alas, it is shining on her grave! When I was tossing and turning on the bed with pain and insomnia, the high fever was twitching my beating blood vessels. "Sasha can't know my pain," I said weakly. "It's a comfort."
It seems that a slave has been tortured all his life. It is useless to give him freedom, and pity has given me life in vain, because, oh, Cesar has passed away! A gift from my Cesar, when life and love are still bright! Oh, how different you look now! How sad time has infected you! The heart promised to me with you is silent-alas, I hope mine is also silent! Although it is as cold as a dead person, it still feels and hates the chill all over. Evidence of your sour heart! Your sad watch! Although sad, stick to my chest! Keep that love, make it single-minded, or tear the heart you cling to.
Time can only cool down, but it can't move love, which will be more sacred because of despair; Oh, how can thousands of active loves compare with this love for the dead? 4. "Yong Xi Yong" is the eternal ghost of your majestic spirit! Freedom, you are the brightest in the dungeon! Because there you live in people's hearts-that heart, it only listens to your love; When your followers are shackled and sacrificed in a dark dungeon, their motherland is respected and the reputation of freedom spreads with every gust. Siong! Your prison has become a sacred place, and your gloomy ground has become an altar, because Bernival walked around there and left a deep mark, as if your cold slate were grass-growing soil! Don't erase that footprint because it turned to God for help under tyranny.
5. There is no freedom to fight for in this country, so fight for the freedom of neighboring countries! To care about the honor of Greece and Rome, and put an end to this cause! It is a heroic achievement to benefit mankind, and the reward is often equally grand. Fight for freedom, anywhere! Shoot, hang, or be sealed. 2. Poems about Byron
Maiden of Athens (England) Byron, you are my life, and I love you-Maiden of Athens, give my heart back before we leave! Or, since it has been separated from me, keep it and take the rest! Please listen to my farewell oath: you are my life, and I love you.
second, I want to rely on my loose curly hair, which is chased by every Aegean wind. I want to rely on my eyelash eyes to kiss the pink on your cheek. I will swear by the eyes like wild deer: you are my life, and I love you. Third, there are the red lips that I have long wanted to taste, as well as the light and tight waist. I want to rely on these flowers to surpass all words; I want to say, with a string of joys and sorrows of love: you are my life, and I love you.
Four girls in Athens, we broke up; Think of me when you are lonely. Although I ran towards Istanbul, Athens seized my heart and soul: Can I not love you? I won't! You are my life and I love you.
Happy (UK) Byron has no beautiful daughter who is full of charm. For me, like you, your sweet voice is like music floating on water. It's as if the sound has stopped the intoxicated ocean, the waves are still and flashing, and the warm wind is like dreaming. The moonlight at midnight is weaving bright chains on the sea waves; The rising chest rises and falls gently, just like a baby sleeping; This is how my heart leans forward to listening to you, just like the wave of the ocean in summer, full of tender feelings.
well, we won't roam together (England). Byron, as soon as possible, we won't roam together to kill this deep night, although this heart still loves, even though the moonlight is still so bright. Second, because the sword can wear out the scabbard, and the soul has worn out its chest enough, this heart, it has to stop breathing and love has to have a rest.
although this night happened to be in love, it will soon be dawn, but we are no longer roaming together, stepping on this brilliant moonlight. She walks in the beauty (Britain) Byron-she walks in the beauty, like the night is cloudless and starry; The most beautiful color of light and dark background appears in her appearance and eyes, as if it were the sunshine reflected by morning dew, but softer and darker than that light.
two, increasing or decreasing the color will damage this unspeakable beauty fluctuation on her dark hair, or spread a faint glow on her face, and the quiet thoughts indicate that it is pure and precious. Oh, that forehead, that bright cheek, so gentle, calm, and affectionate, that charming smile, that bright eyes look around, all illustrate a kind life: she treats everything in the world kindly, and her heart overflows. What pure love! To M.S.G (UK) Byron If I dream that you love me, don't blame me, don't take it out on sleep; Your love only exists in dreams. When I wake up, I have tears in my eyes.
sleeping god! Close my mind quickly and let drowsiness flow all over me; May the good dreams tonight be similar to last night; Fascinating like a fairyland! It is said that sleep, the sister of death, is also a sample of death; If the kingdom of heaven tastes like this, may death come early! Show your eyes, beauty, and calm down, I have never been elated; The sin in my dream should be liquidated: happiness can only make me stare blankly. In my dream, maybe you smile slightly, not to mention that my punishment is not enough-sleeping alone, being deceived by dreams; Wake up, how can you bear this hardship! At the beginning, we were separated (Britain) Byron At the beginning, we were separated only by silence and tears, and our hearts were almost broken. How many years were separated! Your face is pale and cold, and your kiss is even colder; Indeed, that time heralded today's sadness! The dew dripping in the morning dipped into my brow, so cold-it seemed like a warning to me today.
You broke all your vows and gained a reputation for being frivolous; I am ashamed to hear people say your and my names. They say you in front of me, like the death knell ringing in my ears; I can't stop shivering all over-how can I be so affectionate to you? They don't know that I know you-I'm afraid I'm over-familiar! I will regret you for a long time, too deep to tell.
I thought about the secret appointment; Up to now, you are silently complaining: your heart will start and your soul will cheat. If I meet you again-how many years have passed, what shall I use to greet you? Only silence and tears.
Answer to a lady (England), Byron, who was banished from the garden gate of Eden, lingered at the door and couldn't bear to go: everything in front of him touched the past and made him curse the future experience. Later, he traveled to a foreign land to close the mountain, and silently endured the heavy sadness; I only pay a sigh for the good times of the past, and I use the complicated scenes to get rid of my worries.
dear Mary! Like this, I have to say goodbye to you; If I linger around you, I will also regret everything I have lost. Traveling far can make me escape from danger wisely and escape the temptation of evil influence here; As long as I can see this paradise again, I will not acquiesce that I have no happiness.
Go, go (UK) Byron Go, go, sad tune! Silence, it used to be sweet music! Otherwise, I have to hide my ears and run away: I can't bear to listen to such music. They recall the happy past; Now, stop fiddling with the strings! I don't want to face up to it, and I can't bear to recall my today and my years.
Your voice is hoarse, which makes the original charm of these pieces of music escape without a trace; Nowadays, their low-pitched melody is just a repetition of elegies and sorrows. Yes, they are singing about you, Sasha! Singing about you-beloved dust! That tune used to be harmonious and harmonious, but now it can't compare with the noise! All acquiesced! However, the fresh echo in my ear is trembling; I don't want to hear the voice I heard: such a voice should have been silent long ago.
It's still shaking my lost heart. The soft music sneaks into my dream, and "consciousness" wakes up in vain to slander me. That dream has already flown away. Saisha! Waking up is like dreaming, and you turn into a magical dream; Like a lone star shining on the sea, the radiance is no longer shining on the world.
When the heaven is angry and the earth is gloomy, someone trudges on the journey of life, and he has long lost sight of the hidden brightness-it has sprinkled joy on his journey. Wild antelope (Britain) Byron wild antelope can also jump happily on the hills of Judah; There are gurgling streams everywhere in the holy land, allowing it to sip at will; Four hoofs nimble, eyes flashing, unruly, happy, patrolling the hometown! How many times has Judas seen the same fast steps and brighter eyes! How handsome the residents are in her prosperous old world! Lebanon. 3. Who can give me Byron's poem
I would like to be a carefree child and still live in a cave on the plateau: wandering in the tiny wilderness or prancing on the dark blue sea waves.
The flashy red tape of Saxon is against my free will. I miss the rugged mountains on the ramp, and I yearn for the boulders that the wild waves beat.
Fate, please take back the rich and ripe fields and this resounding title of honor! I hate being greeted humbly and being surrounded by slaves! Put me back to my favorite mountain and listen to the roaring ocean; I just want me to relive the scenery of my old country that I was familiar with since I was a child. Although I am young, I can also perceive that this world is by no means designed for me; Why should the shadow of the underworld be repeated, the moment when the world bid farewell to the world? I also glimpsed a brilliant dream-the magical illusion of the land of bliss; Truth! Why did your abominable light wake me up to face such a world? I loved-the people I loved have left, and I have friends-the early friendship has ended; How can a lonely heart not be depressed when the original hope is extinguished! Even though the playful partners at the banquet dispersed the bad feelings for a moment; Excitement can cheer up the crazy soul, but the heart is always lonely! How boring it is to listen to those people talking about: those people are neither enemies nor friends with me. It is family, power, wealth or luck that bring them together with me.
give me back some loyal friends! Still the same age and mood! Away from the noise in the middle of the night, their joy is just a name. Beauty, lovely beauty! You are my hope, comfort and everything? Even the charm of your smile has disappeared, how can I not be cold in my heart! I don't regret the rich and miserable hustle and bustle, and I would like to say goodbye from now on. I just want to be content and quiet-"virtue" is familiar with it or deja vu.
Say goodbye to this bustling place-I don't hate humans, I just want to avoid it; I am infatuated with looking for a gloomy canyon, and that color fits my gloomy mind. I wish I could have a pair of wings: like a turtledove flying back to its nest, I will spread my wings and fly over the sky, floating far away and enjoying rest.
The diary of Kaifa Leanya Island all the dead people woke up-can I still sleep? The whole world is fighting against tyrants-how can I back down? It's time to harvest the rich crops-why don't I open the sickle? The pillow is covered with thorns-how can I lie down? The horn of March is ringing in my ears every day, and my heart echoes, so I should respond to it. The lady of Yadian took advantage of the time when we haven't broken up to return my heart, the girl of Athens! No need, since my heart has left my chest, you can keep it.