A song for Helen to Helen | Helen
Edgar Allan Poe
Wesley Wang
Helen, your beauty means a lot to me.
Do you like those NICs? The barking of dogs in the past
Gently, on the fragrant sea,
Tired wanderers are tired.
Go back to his hometown.
Oh, your beauty is in my eyes.
Just like Nicea's boat in the past,
Gently on the fragrant sea,
Take the tired wanderer for example.
Back to the coast of his hometown.
Roaming on the sea of despair,
Your hyacinthus orientalis hair, your classic face,
Your breeze takes me home.
For the glory of Greece,
And the glory of Rome.
In the ocean of despair, the waves are endless,
Your flowing hair, elegant face,
I want to see you as beautiful as a fairy in the water.
The glory of Greece,
The majesty of Rome.
Look, in that splendid window niche.
I saw how much you stood like a statue,
The agate lamp in your hand,
Ah! Psyche, from
Are holy places!
Look! In the gorgeous window niche in the distance,
I saw you standing like a statue,
Agate lamp in hand!
Ah, daughter of the soul, where are you from,
Where is the holy land!
Extended reading of related articles: before two portraits of mothers
In front of two portraits of my mother
I love this beautiful young girl.
The portrait of my mother was painted many years ago.
When her forehead is white, no.
Shadows in the dazzling Venetian glass
Her gaze. But another similarity shows that
A deep white furrow on her forehead.
Marble. Rose poems of her youth.
Her marriage is still far away. this is
My sadness: I compare these portraits, one
A happy, radiant forehead, and another caring-
Heavy: sunrise? Here comes the thick one.
At night. However, how strange my way seems,
Because when I look at these faded lips, my heart
Smile, but at the smiling girl, my tears began.
? Emile Nelligan (1879- 194 1)
I love this beautiful girl deeply.
This portrait, which is my mother, was painted many years ago.
At that time, her forehead was white and flawless
Shiny as Venice glass, without shadow.
In her eyes. But another portrait shows that
The deep wrinkles on her forehead are as smooth as white marble.
When she was a teenager.
A rose love poem
I sang it at her wedding, but now it's gone.
At this point, my heart is sad: comparing these two portraits, one appears.
One looks cheerful, the other looks worried.
Heavy: a picture like sunrise? The other is like the oncoming darkness.
Good night However, my reaction was unusual.
Because when I look at her tarnished lips, my heart
Smiling, but looking at the smiling girl, my tears actually began to flow out.
? Imiri? Nelligan (1879- 194 1)