Keats put forward the aesthetic view of "beauty is truth and true beauty" in Ode to an Ancient Greek urn, which means that the essence of life is the source of artistic beauty, and artistic beauty makes the beauty of life last forever. Keats' poems express sincere feelings. Keats died young, but I think he was an outstanding poet who wrote with his life and pursued the truth and beauty of poetry.
Ode to a nightingale is an ode. If you have seen the movie Bright Stars, I believe you will be impressed by Keats' passion and talent for poetry. The poet's ode to life, beauty and freedom is vividly reflected in the poem Ode to a Nightingale.
My heart hurts, and I feel sleepy and numb.
I feel like hemlock I drank,
Or pour some anesthetic into the sewer
A minute passed, and the forgotten ward had sunk:
Not because I'm jealous of your happiness,
But too happy in your happiness,
You, Dryad, the light wing of the tree,
In some melodious plots
Beech green and countless shadows,
Sing summer with the loudest voice.
Ah, for a bottle of wine! That's already
Cooled in the deep underground for a long time,
Taste the green of plants and countryside,
Dance and get proved? Al's songs and suntanned laughter!
Oh, for a beaker full of warm south,
Full of real, bright red inspiration,
Bead bubbles flicker at the edge,
And a purple mouth;
I might drink it so that the world can't see it,
Disappear with you in the dark forest;
Disappear far away, dissolve, forget completely
What you don't know in the leaves,
Fatigue, fever and anxiety
Here, people sit together and listen to each other's groans;
Paralysis shook a few sad last white hairs,
There, youth becomes pale, haggard and dead;
Except thinking, where will it be full of sadness?
And leaden despair,
Beauty cannot keep her bright eyes,
Or new love will languish for them after tomorrow.
Go away. Go away. Because I will fly to you,
Not driven by Barkis and his buddies,
But on the invisible wings of poetry,
Although the dull brain is confused and hindered:
I am already with you! The night is gentle,
Maybe the moon queen is on her throne,
The stars surround all her fairies;
But there is no light here,
Except for the breeze from heaven
Through the green darkness and winding moss road.
I can't see any flowers at my feet,
I don't know what kind of incense is hanging on the branches,
However, in the darkness of anti-corrosion, guess every sweet one.
What does the timely month give it?
Grassland, bushes and wild fruit trees;
White hawthorn and pastoral;
Leaves cover the withered violets;
The oldest child in mid-May,
The upcoming musk rose, full of dew wine,
A place where flies haunt on summer nights.
I listened to the darkness; Moreover, many times.
I almost fell in love with a peaceful death,
Call him by a gentle name in many thoughtful rhymes,
Bring my quiet breath into the air;
There seems to be more death than ever before,
Stop painlessly at midnight,
When you pour out your soul
In such ecstasy!
You will still sing, but my ears are empty.
Turn into a turf in front of your high requiem.
Immortal bird, you were not born to die!
No hungry generation tramples on you;
The voice I heard on this lost night
In ancient times, emperors and clowns:
Maybe the same song found a way.
Through Ruth's sad heart, when she is homesick,
She stood in a strange cornfield with tears in her eyes;
The same thing often happens.
Charming magic window, open the foam.
A dangerous ocean, in an abandoned fairyland.
Lonely! This word is like a clock.
Let me go back to myself from you!
Goodbye! Fantasy can't cheat so well.
She is famous for deceiving herself.
Goodbye! Goodbye! Your sad hymn is gone
Across the nearby grass, across the quiet stream,
Climb the hillside; Now it's buried deep
In the next valley-glade:
Is this an illusion or a waking dream?
The music disappeared: Am I awake or asleep?
Ode to the nightingale
My heart is aching, sleepy and numb.
Stab into the senses, like drinking poisonous pigeons,
? Like swallowing opium,
So sinking towards the column forget Sichuan:
I'm not jealous of your good luck,
It's your happiness that makes me so happy-
? Because in the bright world of the forest,
You, light-winged fairy,
You hide under the lush green and beech trees,
Let go of your voice and sing summer.
? Hey, if there's a sip of wine! Nalengcang
An alcoholic liquor stored underground for many years,
? When you taste it, it reminds you of a green country.
Think of the goddess of flowers, love songs, sunshine and dancing!
If there is a cup of warmth from the south.
Full of bright red inspiration,
? Pearl foam goes out at the edge of the cup,
? Dye your lips with purple spots;
? Oh, I'm so drunk,
Walk with you and disappear in the dark forest;
Far away, far away, let me forget.
Everything you don't know in the leaves,
? Forget this fatigue, fever and anxiety,
This makes people sigh the world of sitting;
? Here, youth is pale, haggard and dead,
? And "paralysis" has a few white hairs swaying;
Here, a little thinking is full.
Sadness and gray despair,
? And "beauty" can't keep the brilliance of bright eyes,
The new love will wither before tomorrow.
Let's go Let's go I want to fly to you,
You don't have to ride in Bowen's car with Dionysus.
I want to spread the invisible wings of poetry,
Although this mind has been sleepy and tired; Let's go Ah,
I'll go with you! The night is so gentle,
A month later, I ascended the throne.
There are a group of stars around to guard her;
But it's not very bright here,
? Except for a ray of sky light carried away by the breeze,
Lush darkness and winding moss paths.
? I can't tell what flowers are at my feet.
? What fragrant flowers are hanging on the branches;
? In the warm darkness, I can only guess.
What incense should be put in this season?
Give this fruit tree, Lin Mang and grass,
This white bitter orange blossom, and the roses in the field,
? Violets that are easy to thank in this pile of green leaves,
And the indulgence in mid-May,
? This musk rose is full of dew,
It became a harbor infested by gnats on summer nights.
How many times have I heard it in the dark?
I almost fell in love with a quiet death,
I called his name in a thoughtful rhythm,
Ask him to spread my breath into the air;
Now, how rich death is:
Die in the middle of the night,
When you pour out your heart
Send out such ecstasy!
? You can still sing, but I'll never hear it again-
Your corolla can only sing to the mud grass.
Fairy bird, you won't die!
Hungry generations can't trample on you;
I overheard a song tonight.
Once delighted the ancient emperors and villagers;
? Maybe this song has aroused.
Ruth's melancholy heart made her cry.
? Standing in a foreign grain field thinking about hometown;
It is this sound that often
Window leaf in wonderland with lost motivation;
A beautiful woman looked at the sinister waves.
? Oh, I lost it! This sentence is like thunder.
Wake me up where I stand!
Farewell! Fantasy, this deceitful devil boy,
You can't always play tricks on it.
? Farewell! Farewell! The song you complain about
Through the lawn, through the quiet stream,
Slip up the hill; And at this time, it deeply
Buried in a nearby valley:
Is this an illusion or a dream?
? The song has gone:-Am I sleeping? Is it awake?
? Ode, a form of poetry, is a lyric poem used to praise a person, an event or an object. The most famous representative works of English ode poems are Shelley's ode to the west wind, Keats' Ode to the Nightingale and Ode to the Ancient Greek Urn.
Ode to the nightingale was written in 18 19. One day, a nightingale built a nest in a tree. Keats was attracted by the euphemistic and cheerful singing of the nightingale. He sat on a stool under a plum tree for two or three hours. When he returned to his room, he had four or five poems in his hand. When writing this poem, Keats' younger brother had just died, and Keats was also troubled by lung disease. The nightingale represents his yearning for forgetting the pain in reality and pursuing beauty and freedom.
There are also many ancient poems describing birdsong among ancient poets in China. Such as: "The birds are startled when the moon rises, and the spring flows. ; ""A hundred tones follow, and the flowers are red and purple. " ; "Cicada is quiet in the forest, and Tonggong Mountain is more secluded." The singing of birds sets off the quietness of the surrounding environment and embodies the author's relaxed and happy mood of enjoying nature. As the saying goes, the environment is born of the heart. Wang Wei, an idyllic landscape poet, is known as "painting in poetry and poetry in painting". Keats' poem is a poem with pictures and fun.
This ode to * * * is divided into eight bars, each bar has 10 lines, and the rhyme form of each bar is ABABCDECDE. The poet adopts the methods of contrast and symbol in his whole poem. The nightingale represents the freedom and beautiful life that the poet yearns for, but the author has to be trapped in the pain of reality: his brother has just died; He himself suffers from diseases; He fell in love with Miss Fanny Brown, but reality prevented them from being together. The sweetness of love and the pain of illness make the poet envy the nightingale very much and want to fly with it.
From the picture below, we can see that the poet used a comparative expression in his description, which reflected the contradiction between the poet's negative life and the ideal world represented by the nightingale. The author uses different words in his poems, such as the poet's pain and the nightingale's happiness, the poet's dullness and the nightingale's melodiousness and so on. , reflecting the author's helplessness in pursuing freedom and getting rid of pain but having to face the reality at that time. This is also the embodiment of Keats' paradox in this poem.
? You can find Benedict's version of this poem by reciting it. When Benny recited Keats' Ode to the Nightingale this morning, it was a supreme artistic enjoyment to listen to the soothing and beautiful music with Benny's pure English accent.
? Keats has a poem called "How many poets have plated time into gold". "How many poets have plated time into gold, and the masterpieces of outstanding poets will always be my fantasy ... as if there were countless voices gathered in the dusk ... as if there were countless voices gathering in the dusk: birds singing, leaves whispering, flowing water gurgling, Hong Zhong knocking solemn voices with heavy voices, and thousands of unrecognizable voices coming from afar.
Great music, not noise. "
? Keats pays attention to sensory feelings when writing poems, so reading his poems is not only to look at a beautiful oil painting, but also to appreciate a beautiful classical music, completely immersed in the beautiful situation depicted in his poems. Therefore, reading his poems is a pleasure, not only because of his passion for poetry, but also because of his praise for beauty and truth.
Keats died at the age of 25, but his influence on poetry is the brightest star in English romantic poetry. His poems pay attention to sensory perception, aestheticism and the creative concept of art for art's sake, and he has an artistic sensibility very close to Shakespeare's genius. His poetic forms and styles are also changeable, such as ode, long poem, narrative poem, lyric poem and sonnet. His sonnets are very similar to Shakespeare's poetic style, and reading his sonnets is also an aesthetic sensory enjoyment.
I'm thinking that it would be the best thing in the world if English poetry could penetrate into the occasionally lonely hearts of people in modern society like a nightingale.