In a comfortable grave, the rest die,
Maybe it's not that hard? For me,
When the sun no longer makes plants and animals
When a beautiful family is fertile;
When the future is full of rhetoric
When you stop jumping in front of me;
When I never hear your poem again, my dear friend,
I can't appreciate the sadness and harmony in this poem.
And the spirit in my heart is beyond description.
The virgin muse and the goddess of love
The only spirit in my wandering life—
A piece that separates my bones from
Countless victims are scattered on the ground and in the sea.
Stone tablet, how can you make up for the lost time?
That's right, moral Monte! Even hope,
The last goddess also escaped from the grave and was forgotten.
Then everything is wrapped in its night;
A busy force made them
Tired, from one exercise to the next;
Time, put people and their graves
And the final appearance of the earth and the sky
With the ruins, disguised.
But why, in the face of time,
The flesh and blood will lose any illusion,
Although dead, but still stay on the threshold of hades?
When the harmony of the day is silent to him,
Even if he can be in the heart of the person he loves
Wake it up with sweet care,
Even underground, he may not be alive!
It is sacred for cordial feelings to come together.
This is a sacred gift to mankind;
We often use it to communicate with our dead friends.
Live with the dead and take this opportunity.
Stay with us-as long as it is like a child.
This land accepted and nurtured him devoutly.
Defend and consecrate his body,
From lightning and dirty people
His footsteps kept him in the arms of Mother Earth.
This is the last refuge-just the stone tablet.
A friendly tree, keeping its name, exudes flowers.
Soothe his ashes with soft shadows.
Only those who have no love for future generations,
There is not much happiness in the grave;
If he can open his eyes after burial, he can see.
My soul lingers in the cries of people in hades,
Or hide under the great forgiving wing of God;
However, his ashes remained.
On a big nettle in the desert,
Where the beloved woman didn't pray,
No lonely traveler hears it.
The sigh that nature gives us from the grave.
But today, a new law will put the grave
Besides pity, for the dead,
The name of the grave is meaningless. Your priest,
Oh, Talia, but there's no grave to lie on,
He sang to you in his humble room.
Enduring love, cultivate a laurel in your place.
Hang a wreath; You embellish these songs with your laughter—
Those songs are used to * * * Dunapalo in Lombardy,
The latter loves to hear Abu Duyaqing.
And the Cleisthenes sound of Ticino cattle, which made him
Full of leisure, the feast adds a layer of joy.
Ah, beautiful muse, where are you?
I don't smell delicious food,
This is a sign that your goddess appears,
Right here, I sit among these plants,
Sigh for mom's house. In the past,
You often come under the bodhi tree and smile at him.
Now, the branches are drooping and trembling,
Because oh, goddess, it can't be covered.
The grave of the old man, in the past, it used to be.
Generously gave him peace and shade.
Perhaps, you are in the graves of those laity.
While wandering around, you were looking for Pa Rigney.
Where is the sacred head?
This city is an attractive resting place for singers.
The singer's voice is weak,
Has been within the city walls, without providing him with shelter,
He didn't set up a monument for him, leaving words;
Maybe, say goodbye to evil on the gallows.
The thief now uses his beheaded blood.
Defile those bones.
You heard the abandoned * * *, in the cemetery.
Wandering among rubbish and thorns.
Scratching and wailing because of hunger;
I also heard the owl fly away from the skull.
The skull was buried out of the reach of moonlight;
Owls are among the crosses scattered around the cemetery.
Flying around, with sad cries,
Blame the stars on the forgotten graves
The light of pity shines. Oh,
Goddess, you pray for dew on this gloomy night.
It's no use dripping on your poet.
Alas! No more flowers bloom on the dead,
Unless it is praised by human beings and stained with tears of love.
The grave of the strong inspires the strong to do something.
Excellent career, oh, moral Monte,
Become their refuge in the course of life.
Become beautiful and sacred. When I see
When the monument to the great man's body is below—
Some people strengthen the power of the monarch,
But rejected the crown awarded by the king and told people,
How many tears and blood will be shed;
Some people are very smart, in Rome.
A new Mount Olympus was built for God;
Some people see more under the sky.
The world is turning, but the sun is still.
Polish them; Therefore, he first
Opened the way for an Englishman to explore the sky,
So that he can show his talent in this country—
I can't help shouting, blessed are you,
For the breezes full of energy and happiness,
For the Apennines.
A gurgling stream pouring down to you!
The bright moonlight melted on those hills,
Rejoicing in your air,
The hill rejoices in the grape harvest season!
Under the valley, there are rows of cottages.
There are also many olive trees,
The valley blooms thousands of flowers into the sky.
Aroma; And you, Florence, first of all.
Hear the anger of Kipling who escaped.
Singing; With your dear parents and poems,
Give it to the fragrant poet,
He worships the Greek and Roman god of love,
Cover the goddess of love with a very white veil,
Bring him back to the arms of Venus in the sky;
However, what is more commendable is that you will
All the glory of Italy is gathered here.
These glories may be unique in temples.
Because the Alps can't resist foreign enemies, and
The unfortunate fate of mankind has made your weapons,
Property, altars, countryside and everything else.
Deprived of everything but memories.
Therefore, when the glorious hope shines.
Wise mind and Italy, where can we go?
Draw a good impression; On these marble graves,
Vittorio often gives us inspiration.
He was indignant at the tragic experience of his motherland,
Often wandering quietly in the driest place of the Arno River,
Looking at the fields and the sky with longing eyes,
Because what I saw and heard can't comfort him.
Worrying about the country and the people,
This rigorous number will rest here;
On his face, there is the pallor of death.
There is still hope. He and these big shots, forever.
Rest in peace here. His bones,
Trembling with love for the motherland.
(translated by Qian Hongjia)
Precautions:
According to Greek mythology, the goddess of comedy and satire.
Refers to the famous satirical poem One Day by Italian poet Zhu Pa Rigney. This poem makes a bitter satire on the decadent life of Milan aristocrats.
Refers to16th century Italian political scientist, historian, dramatist and poet Machiavelli.
Refers to the Italian Renaissance artist Michelangelo.
Italian astronomer Galileo galilei.
Refers to the British scientist Newton.
This refers to Dante's poems.
It refers to Petrarch. Dante and Petrarch are both Florentines.
The ancients divided Venus into two categories, one is human, representing * * *; One is heavenly, representing spirituality.
Refers to17th century Italian dramatist and poet vittorio Alfieri.
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Foscolo's bumpy and romantic life is a tragic symphony composed of motherland, freedom, honor and death. His works contain the ideals, sentiments, loves and dislikes of the younger generation of Italy in the Napoleonic era, and also inspire people's infinite yearning for freedom and rebirth.
Mourning in the Cemetery is Foscolo's most famous lyric poem and an immortal masterpiece in the history of Italian poetry. This poem was written in Milan in 1806. At that time, Napoleon issued a decree in Italy to build a cemetery in the suburbs. The body of the deceased should no longer be buried near the church or residence without authorization, and the inscription on the tombstone must be examined by a special Committee. The content of the inscription must be realistic and not exaggerated. Foscolo thought Napoleon acted like a savior, wantonly destroying Italian local customs and culture. He was very disgusted and angry with this decree, so he created this blank poem to express his resistance to Napoleon's dictatorship, and also to express the poet's own outlook on life and beliefs, as well as to eulogize those great Italian cultural figures who have passed away. This poem is dedicated to Dement, a contemporary poet in Foscolo. Its structure is dialogic and full of passionate emotional expression, logic and debate.
The whole poem "Regret for the Past" consists of 295 free-form eleven-syllable poems. The poet believes that although the deceased has passed away and only flesh and blood have lost consciousness, his soul is as eternal as nature. The dead and the living can get together through "cordial feelings", which is sacred, and the grave is a medium that can break the barrier between Yin and Yang and make this feeling eternal. "We often live with our dead friends through it, and the dead also take this opportunity to stay with us." The tomb connects the love between the dead and the living, and it is also his last "refuge" in the arms of Mother Earth. Those who can no longer be remembered and loved by future generations have no happiness in the grave. When their graves were abandoned in the desert, "there was no beloved woman to pray,/no lonely traveler to listen/the sigh that nature gave us from the graves". Such abandonment is not only a disrespect for the spirits of the deceased, but also a blasphemy from heaven. For the living, mourning and remembering the dead is to prolong the life of the dead. When the virtues and talents of the deceased are "praised by human beings and stained by tears of love", they will bloom from the dust, thus gaining eternal rebirth. As a love bridge between the living and the dead, the cemetery is actually the need of human emotional life. Even if the dead are gone, we still need to remember and recall. This is not only the love and comfort for the dead, but also the necessary sustenance for the living to express their grief.
With the development of long poems, the poet praised the great Italians buried in the graves, such as Machiavelli, Michelangelo, Galileo, Dante, Petrarch ... The great achievements of these deceased people will give strength and encouragement to the living: "The graves of the strong inspire the strong to do something/excellent, oh, and make them/moral. The tomb of the dead is not only the burial place of the body, but also a noble and sacred symbol because of the immortality of the soul of the dead. The tomb is not only the witness of history, but also the embodiment of great honor. People can get bright enlightenment, poetic inspiration and strength inspiration at the graves of these great men, helping people overcome pessimism and struggle and live in a higher mental state. Poetry is an important source of nourishing the soul. In his view, Homer, a great poet, was inspired by the already destroyed Trojan tomb and wrote the immortal poem Iliad.
The tomb can link the past and the present, and the sacred memorial ceremony to the tomb reflects the awe and continuation of the beautiful tradition, and also the memory and follow-up of the wise and sages. At the end, the poet encourages the living to follow the example of the sages, so that Italy can carry forward its past glory and create a historical tomorrow. Therefore, the significance of the tomb is serious and solemn, and poets even regard it as the basis of human civilized life. The whole poem aroused the author's patriotic pride.
The language of the poem is concise, the brushwork is vigorous, the tone is rich and sonorous, and the poetry is meaningful and thought-provoking.
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