Like the piano music "Like the Wind"
/class/English/documents/media/the solary reaper . rar
Lonely reaper
Look at her, alone in the field,
That lonely highland girl!
Harvesting and singing alone;
Let's stop here and pass it gently!
She cut and bound the grain by herself,
Singing a melancholy tune;
Oh, listen! Because the valley is deep
Full of sound.
No nightingale has ever challenged
More welcome instructions for the tired band
Travelers are in some dark places,
In the Arabian desert:
Never heard such an exciting voice.
From the cuckoo's spring,
Break the silence of the ocean
In the farthest hebrides.
Nobody told me what she sang? -
Maybe sad numbers are flowing.
For old, unhappy, distant things,
And the battle long ago:
Or some more humble level,
Familiar things today?
Some natural sadness, loss or pain,
This has happened before, and it may happen again.
No matter what the theme is, the girl sings
As if her song had no ending;
I saw her singing at work,
Over the crooked sickle; ——
I listened quietly and did not move.
When I climbed up the mountain,
The music in my heart,
I'll never hear it again after a long time.
-
3. Another translation of the lonely harvester
Look, a lonely plateau girl.
Harvesting in distant fields,
Singing alone while cutting,-
Please stop. Or sneak past!
She cut and tied the wheat alone,
Sing a song of infinite sadness,
Hold your breath and listen! A deep and wide valley
It has been filled with songs and overflowed!
There was never a nightingale,
Singing such a charming song,
In the shade of the desert
Comfort tired passengers;
No cuckoo has ever welcomed spring,
The sound of crying is so shocking to the soul,
In the remote Huberley Islands.
Break the loneliness of the sea.
What does she sing? Who can tell me?
Sad notes keep flowing,
Is it to tell the misfortune in the distance?
Is it to carry the ancient war?
Maybe her songs are humble,
Just sing today's ordinary joys and sorrows,
Sing the sadness and pain of nature—
After what happened yesterday, will we meet again tomorrow?
I can't guess what this girl sings,
Her songs are like endless running water;
I saw her singing and working,
Bend over and wave the sickle, and work endlessly ...
I listened attentively to her singing,
Then, when I climbed up the mountain,
Although the song is no longer audible,
It still haunts my mind.
Don't walk into that beautiful night gently.
Dylan Marles Thomas (19 14- 1953)
Don't walk into that beautiful night gently.
Old age should burn and revel at the end of the day.
Anger, anger against the death of light:
Although wise people finally know that darkness is right,
Because there is no forked lightning in their words
Don't walk into that beautiful night gently.
Good man, how brilliant you cried after the last wave.
Their fragile behavior may dance in the green bay,
Anger, anger at the disappearance of light.
Savage, catching and singing the sun in flight,
I realized that it was too late, and they were sad on the road.
Don't walk into that beautiful night gently.
The people in the grave, dying, see things in a blur.
Blind eyes can shine and be happy like meteors.
Anger, anger at the disappearance of light.
And you, my father, are on the heights of sadness,
Curse with your tears, bless me, I pray.
Don't walk into that beautiful night gently.
Anger, anger at the disappearance of light.
Don't walk meekly into that beautiful night,
The year of the dragon bell will also burn at sunset;
Roar, roar for the disappearance of light.
The wise man at the end of life understands the justice of darkness,
However, their words can no longer inspire lightning.
I will not meekly walk into that beautiful night.
Good people will roar when the last wave sweeps.
Said their fragile charity could dance in Green Bay,
Roar, roar for the disappearance of light.
Violent people will hold fast to the flying sun and sing, you know?
They have made it sad all the way, although it is too late to understand now.
But I won't walk into that beautiful night meekly.
A gloomy person near the horizon of death will be as primitive as a pair of stern eyes.
Blind eyes twinkle like meteors and ripple happily,
Roar, roar for the disappearance of light.
And you, my father, have risen to the highest level of sadness,
Curse me and bless me with tears, but please
Never walk meekly into that beautiful night,
Roar, roar at the disappearance of light.
Because I can't stop to die-
Emily Dickinson
Because I can't stop to die-
He kindly stopped for me-
We're the only people in the car-
And immortality.
We drove slowly-he knew not to rush.
I have put it away.
My work and leisure,
For his courtesy-
We passed the school and the children were fighting there.
At rest-in the ring-
We passed the fields staring at the grain-
We passed the sunset-
Or-he passed us-
Dew shivering and cold-
Just for the tulle, my robe-
My shawl tulle-
We're in a building that looks like
The uplift of the ground-
The roof is almost invisible-
He's underground-
Since then, for centuries, however,
It feels shorter than the day.
I guessed the horse's head first.
Towards eternity-
Because I can't stop to die.
Because I can't stop to die.
He kindly stopped to wait for me-
That car can only hold the two of us-
And immortality.
We drove slowly-he was in no hurry.
I also put my work and leisure.
Throw everything away,
For his courtesy-
We walked across the campus, and the children were pushing and shoving.
During recess, in the circular square—
We walked through the straw pile and stared at the fields-
We walked through the sunset—
In other words, he walked past us.
Cold dew, shivering with cold-
Because my dress is like a falling yarn—
My shawl is like a silk screen—
We stopped in front of a house,
This seems to be a raised land.
The roof is almost invisible—
The eaves are underground—
Centuries have passed since then.
Less than a day later,
I first guessed the horse's head.
Run to eternity.