If I love you-/I will never learn to climb the Campbell flower,/I will show off myself on your high branch;
/If I love you-/Never learn from spoony birds,/Repeat monotonous songs for the shade;
/It's not just like a fountain/It brings cool comfort all year round; /Not just like a dangerous mountain peak,
/increase your height,/set off your dignity. /even sunshine/even spring rain
No, these are not enough. I must be a kapok beside you.
/Stand with you as the image of a tree. /root, clenched in the ground;
/Leaves, lingering in the clouds. Every time a gust of wind blows, we greet each other.
But no one understands us. You have your copper branches and iron stems.
/Like a knife, like a sword, like a halberd; /I have my red flowers,/like a heavy sigh,
/Like a heroic torch/We share the cold wave and lightning;
/We * * * enjoy the misty rainbow; /seemingly separated forever, but they are dependent for life.
/This is great love,/Loyalty is here/Love/Not only your stalwart body,
/I also love your stand,/the land under your feet.
Excellent modern European poetry;
Eliot's Fire Commandment
The tent made of trees by the river has been destroyed: the last finger left by the leaves
In order to catch something, I sank to the wet shore again. Nafeng
Blowing through the brown land, no one heard. The fairies have gone.
Lovely time, flowing gently, when I finish singing.
There are no more empty bottles on the river, but tissue paper of meat and bread.
Silk handkerchiefs, cardboard boxes, cigarette butts
Or other evidence on a summer night. The fairies have gone.
And their friends, descendants of the last bosses in the city;
Left without leaving an address.
I sat down in Lake Lyman and swallowed my tears. ...
Lovely time, flowing gently, when I finish singing.
Lovely Thames, flowing gently, my voice will not be too loud or too much.
But in the cold wind behind me, I heard it
The sound of bones touching bones, the smile coming from the ear.
A mouse crossed the grass gently.
Walking on the shore with a wet stomach
One winter night, I was standing behind a gas factory.
Fishing in stagnant water
Think of the king, my brother's shipwreck.
I also thought about my father's death, the king before him.
White body naked on the low wet ground,
The bones were thrown in a short, dry attic,
Only the mouse's feet kicked around there, year after year.
But behind my back, I often hear
The sound of horns and cars will be
Give sweeney to Mrs. Potter in the spring.
Ah, the moon shines on Mrs Bolt.
Her daughter is very clever.
They washed their feet with soda water.
Ah, the voices of these children, singing in the church!
chance
Ha ha ha ha.
Being raped like this.
railway
There are no physical cities.
Under the yellow fog at noon in winter
Mr. Eugenitti, which businessman in Smyrna?
It hasn't been cleaned yet, and the bag is full of raisins.
CIF London: payable at sight,
Invite me in vulgar French.
Have lunch at the Conen Street Hotel.
Then spend the weekend in metropolis.
At that dusk, eyes and back
When it was lifted from the table, the engine made of flesh and blood was waiting.
While waiting for a taxi,
I, Tiresias, though blind and trembling in two lives,
However, older men have wrinkled female breasts, which can be used in
When the dusk is boundless, I see that the dusk is coming.
Go home, sailors come home from the sea,
Typists also go home during tea, clean up the leftovers from breakfast, light the stove and take out cans.
It hangs dangerously outside the window.
Her underwear, almost dry, was stained by the corner of the sun.
There are several piles of things on the sofa (her bed at night)
Socks, slippers, vest, underwear for tightening.
I, Teresh, an old man with wrinkled breasts.
Saw the plot and predicted what would happen next-
I am also waiting for the expected guests.
He, the young man with acne all over his face, came.
A small company employee, a pair of eyes full of desire for sex,
A dirty guy, very sure,
Like the silk hat on Bradford millionaire's head.
Now is the right time, he guessed right,
The meal has been finished and she is tired and tired.
Try to touch her.
Although unpopular, he was not scolded.
He blushed and made up his mind to attack immediately;
The expedition's hands met no obstacles;
His vanity needs no reward,
Also welcome this indifferent appearance.
I, Tiresias, have had enough.
Play on this sofa or bed;
I once sat under the walls of Thebes.
Walking among the humblest of the dead. )
Finally, I sent a kiss that looked like charity.
He groped his way and found there was no light on the stairs. ...
She looked back at the mirror,
Not fully aware that her lover has left;
An incomplete idea flashed through her mind:
"I finally got a point: it's good to be finished."
When a beautiful woman falls down again
Walking around her room alone.
She stroked her hair mechanically, and then casually.
Play movies on the phonograph.
"The music passed me quietly on the water."
Go through strand Street until you reach Queen Victoria Street.
Ah, the city, the city, I can hear it sometimes.
It's next to a hotel on Lower Times Street.
Melody of mandolin.
And the sound of bowls and lamps inside, the voice of people
It's the fisherman who rests at noon: there.
On the wall of the martyrdom hall, there are also
Iivonen's indescribable splendor in white and gold.
Sweating in the long river
Flowing oil and tar
Ship drifting
Follow the waves
Hongfan
Zhangda
Swing on the heavy mast with the wind.
Wash the boat
Floating giant wood
Go to Greenwich River area.
Passing by Qunquan Island.
Wei alala Leia
Wolala Lairala
Elizabeth and Lester
wade into water
Stern formation
Shells inlaid with gold
Honger Jin Liang
Lively waves
Set off a small wave on both sides of the Taiwan Strait
southwest/southwesterly wind
sail downward with the current -- succeed easily
A continuous bell
White danger tower
Wei alala Leia
Wolala Lairala
"Trams and dusty trees.
Highbury gave birth to me. Richmond and Qiu
Ruined me. I lifted my knee in Richmond.
Lie on your back at the bottom of the canoe.
"My feet are in Moore, my heart.
At my feet. After that incident.
He cried. He promised to turn over a new leaf.
I am silent. What should I resent? "
"On the beach in Maccabees.
I can put
Nothing is connected with nothing.
Broken nails on dirty hands.
We are inferior people and never expect anything.
What? "
Oh, look.
So I came to Carthage.
Burn, burn, burn, burn.
Lord, you saved me.
Lord, please help me.
burn