Amy Lowell, an American poet, her first book of poetry was The Colored Glass Dome. 19 13 years, she stood out from the experimental imagist movement and be
Amy Lowell, an American poet, her first book of poetry was The Colored Glass Dome. 19 13 years, she stood out from the experimental imagist movement and became the movement leader after ezra pound. She wrote with "free and rhythmic prose" and free poetry, which is called "rhyme without rhyme". Let me bring it to you, welcome to read!
: excerpt from Malmaison
I
The slate on the roof sparkled in the sun,
Over there, over there,
Beyond the high wall! The Seine meanders, how quiet it is.
And windings,
Over there, over there, across the green countryside! like
boat
Lines, solemn canvas, tall clouds pass by.
The sky,
Over the shiny roofs, over the trees, over the twists and turns
Rivers.
The breeze blew through the bodhi tree. Roses in full bloom
In Malmeson.
Rose! Rose! But the road is dusty. already
Bohana citizen
Tired of her walking. Her skin was powdered.
With dust,
She is blowing dust, and behind the wall are roses! rose
along with
* * * Open petals, on the rippling leaves. . . rose
. . .
They have told her so. Citizen Bohanas shrugged.
Her shoulder
Made a face. She must step up if she
Will come back.
There's time for dinner. It is indeed a rose! scaffold
More likely.
Layered clouds float over Marmason, and the slate roof shines.
In the sun.
: excerpt from hammer
I
Frind *** ury, Kent, 1786
Bang!
Bang!
Easy.
Tap dancing. Rap!
In the winter of lead and silver,
Through the copper color of autumn haze.
Stepping on the red sun rising in Ran Ran,
Lighten the purple sunset.
Four years passed before the work was finished.
Two thousand oak trees were planted and cut down,
2,000 oak trees from the hedges in Yuan Ye,
Sussex produced two thousand oak trees.
There are huge trunks.
The tape rolls around it.
The people in the village said that it was thirty feet high.
200 loads of elm and Scottish fir;
Dancziger's planking.
Mine. What wood is in the boat!
Easy. Easy.
For two years, they seasoned her ribs on the road,
Pat, pat.
You can hear it, even though there is nothing where you stare.
Through the fog downstream of the river,
The tapping continues like a heartbeat when you have a fever.
The church bell rang.
Hour after hour,
A day of heavy rain.
Bang! Rap! Easy.
Keep banging on the hammer.
They boarded up her wood.
The nail was nailed to the head.
They dressed her up,
Over and over again.
The supporting beam vibrates under tension.
Black and blue breeches,
With shiny braids:
Crawling around like ants,
The hull was crowded with carpenters, coming in and out.
Joiner, caulker,
They are all bad talkers.
Jim Wilson has been to the sea and told some wonderful stories.
Whales and spice islands,
Pirates off the coast of Barbary.
He talks big and his mouth is full of nails.
Stephen Peabold has a tenor voice.
He moved his pound of tobacco and sang:
"The second came in is sleepy Ned:
When the surgeon cut open his limb,
It's a leap,
A nine-pound shell came and hit him in the head.
Pull away, pull away, pull away
Go away. I said;
This is a rare news for my Meg! "
Every Sunday
People are in droves
After church, of course.
In courses, performances and carriages,
Some people brought cold chicken and flagons.
Wine,
And beer in a jar with a stopper.
"my dear! Honey! But I'm telling you, it's gonna be okay.
Boat.
There's nothing better in Chatham. "
The roses in the third summer have begun to bloom.
When the elaborate carving of the stern began.
Flute, winding, and long slow vortex,
Small pieces of hair were shaved into thin spiral curls.
Easy. Easy. A cornucopia was nailed in place.
Rap! They are installing a railing like barbed wire.
Irish lace.
People in these three towns have never seen such grace.
And the paint on it! The richest gold leaf!
Why, when the sun shines, the flash is unbelievable.
The row of glass windows leans against the sky.
Ruby and ruby.
Oh, my God! Oh, my God!
They plated the bottom with copper,
And copper nails
Standing in a big barrel, shining.
Bang! Collision! Bang!
"He drinks, Nick drinks,
Ben drinks, Dick drinks,
I drank it, we all drank it,
Swear that there is nothing.
Like grog. "
They seem to be singing,
Even though copper plating is not an easy task.
What a shining example of human nature a real British worker is,
People in the three towns said,
When they were walking around the dock.
Accompanied by the church bells in the evening.
And art, everyone tells his neighbors.
What great taste and labor!
Miss Jessie plame in a pink silk bonnet,
When her eyes fell on it, she smiled happily.
When she gently stepped down from lawyer green's whisky;
Such amazing beauty makes people feel lively.
She explained.
Mr Nichols said he was very happy.
He is firm;
His work paid off.
If miss Jesse agrees.
Miss Jessie replied that the ship was "a love".
The sides are as yellow as marigold,
When the port is open, the port cover is red:
The blood-red square is like a uniform square.
Yellow Zi Yuan and purslane.
There is a wide "black border" at the waterline.
It is blue as the sky when the weather is fine.
The inboard wall was painted red.
"Why?" Miss Jessie asked. "This is a terrible attention. "
Mr Nichols cleared his throat,
Tell her the release date has been set.
He said, "Be careful, the paint is wet."
But Miss Jessie touched it, her pinstriped tulle gown.
There are blood-red stripes from the shoulder down.
"It looks like blood," said Miss Jessie with a frown.
Easy. Easy. Rap!
One day in October, blue and white waves and a full cup
The sound of the wind.
Three wide flags fluttered behind him.
Location of mast:
Royal standard hotel,
The British navy flag at the bow,
British flag on the back mast.
The hammer hits harder and faster,
They must finish it before noon.
The last nail was nailed.
But the wind has increased to half a gale,
The ship rocked and trembled on the road.
The messenger from Chatham Dock is working.
In his ten-paddle barge from the king's stairs;
The navy band will play "God Save the Great George Our King";
After that, there will be a dinner and a speech at the Crown.
The wind screamed and beat the flags until they beat like hammers.
The wind buzzed on the boat,
Bypass the dog coast,
Pushing and shoving, almost falling.
There is no time to wait for missionaries and naval bands now.
Mr Nichols has a bottle of Porto in his hand.
He bent over and raised his hat and shouted to the following people:
"Let her go!"
Bang! Bang! Pounds!
The dog's leg fell to the ground,
The ship slipped off the oiled planks.
Glass fragments,
The white and copper trunks were covered with port wine.
"Your Majesty's ship, the Bellerophon, succeeded!"
Red wine was washed away in the river of Medway.