Selected Modern Foreign Prose and Poetry Part I: Seeing You, Owning You Author: Allen
I closed my eyes to see you better.
I let you lie under my nose,
Touching you in the dark, soft and light,
In order to draw light from you.
All roads lead to your body,
I have walked every road;
Shallow waves love us infinitely,
The deep waves make us crazy.
I love you to make you love me,
Walking into my heart is like walking into your home.
Come on, sit on the pillow with my poem.
By the clear spring, in the fiery heart.
Selected Modern Foreign Prose and Poetry Part II: Hope. Author: Aleixandre? Melo Spain
Do you know anything about life? You know,
Do you want it to repeat? You are wandering in the same place.
Sit down, don't always look back, but rush forward!
Stand up and hold your chest out. This is life.
The road of life; Is there only sweat on my forehead, thorns on my body, dusty servants and pain in my heart, but not love and morning?
Go on, keep climbing, this is the peak at hand.
Don't hesitate, stand up and stand up. How can you give up hope?
Don't you think? There is a silent language in your ears,
It has no pitch, but you must hear it.
It follows the wind and the fresh air.
Shake your tattered clothes,
Blow dry your sweaty forehead and cheeks,
Wipe away the remaining tears on your face.
When night comes,
It combs your white hair, so patiently and slowly.
Stand up to meet the blue sky of the morning glow,
The light of hope has risen on the horizon of Ran Ran.
Take firm steps, recognize the direction, and trust my support.
Fast forward chase?
Selected Modern Foreign Prose and Poetry Part III: Spring Prayer by Frost (USA)
Oh, please give us joy in flowers today;
Please don't let us think too far.
Like those uncertain gains; Let's stay.
Here, in the most energetic spring of the year.
Oh, please give us joy in the white orchard.
Nothing is like during the day, and it is like a ghost at night;
Let's be happy among the happy bees,
When bees gather around the perfect tree and swell.
Let's be happy among the flying birds.
When their voices suddenly came from above the bees,
With a beak like a needle tip, a meteor squeezed in.
Rush through a quiet flower in midair.
Because this is love, nothing else,
Love exists for God, because love.
He can deify himself at will,
But this love needs us to practice.
Selected Works of Modern Foreign Prose and Poetry Part IV: If I Die by Fernando? Pessoa
If they want to write a biography for me after I die,
That's too easy to handle.
I only have two appointments-birthday and death.
All the remaining days make me.
I can easily describe it.
I live like a madman.
I love things, and I am not sentimental at all.
I have never had an insatiable desire, because I have never had a tendency to follow blindly.
For me, hearing is never as good as seeing at the same time.
I understand that things are real and everything is different;
I understand this with my eyes and never rely on my thoughts.
If you understand with your mind, you will eventually find that there is no difference between the two.
One day, I was sleepy like a child.
I closed my eyes and fell asleep.