A lark
To larks.
Percy bysshe shelley Shelley
Translated by Jiang Feng
Salute you, happy elf!
You were never a bird,
From heaven, or nearby,
Pour all your heart.
In the rich and unprepared art.
Hello, happy elf!
You never seem to be a bird,
From heaven or near heaven,
Accompanied by cheerful music,
Don't carve art, pour out your heart.
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Higher and higher
You gushed from the earth.
Like a fire;
You spread your wings deep in the blue sky,
Singing is still flying, always flying.
Up, then fly high,
You jump from the ground,
Like a faint fire,
Through the blue sky,
Always singing and flying, flying and singing.
?
In the golden lightning
Sunsink sun
No matter which cloud is bright,
You float and run,
Like an immature joy, its competition has just begun.
The sun below the horizon,
Emit golden lightning,
In the clear sky, the clouds are steaming,
You fly in the sun,
The seemingly shapeless joy has just begun a rapid expedition.
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Light purple or even
Melt around your flight;
Like the stars in the sky
In broad daylight
You are invisible, but I still hear your sharp joy:
A faint purple dawn
Melt in your voyage,
Like the stars in the sky,
Although we are not together,
But I can clearly hear your happy voice.
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Sharp as an arrow
In that silver sphere,
Whose strong light has narrowed?
On a clear white dawn
Until we could hardly see it-we thought it was there.
That shrill music,
Sharp arrows like silver stars,
Its bright light,
Dim in the morning light,
Until it is difficult to distinguish, it can be felt in space.
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All the land and air
Use your loud voice.
When the night is bare,
From a lonely cloud
The moon lowered her light, and heaven was flooded.
The whole earth and atmosphere,
Ring through your gentle voice,
As if on a desolate night,
From behind the lonely cloud,
The bright moon is shining, and its brilliance permeates the universe.
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We don't know what you are;
What is most like you?
Rainbow cloud does not flow.
Such bright drops of water
It's like a wonderful rain falling from your face.
We don't know what you are,
What is the most similar to you?
From the neon glow
It can't be raining so beautifully,
It can be compared with the music you left behind when you appeared.
?
Like a hidden poet
According to the thought,
Singing hymns uninvited,
Until the end of the world
Compassionate hopes and fears are not noticed:
Like a poet, invisible
In the glory of thought,
Recite impromptu poetic rhythms,
Until you get universal sympathy.
Awaken by hopes and worries that have never been noticed.
?
Like a girl of noble birth
In the tower of a palace,
Soothe her loving heart.
The soul of a mysterious moment
Music as sweet as love overflows her gazebo;
Like a noble girl,
Living on the balcony of the palace,
In lonely and indescribable moments,
Dispel her feelings of being tortured by love,
Love-like sweet songs fill the boudoir;
?
Like a golden firefly
In the valley of dew,
Scattering without holding
Its colors in the air
In flowers and grass, the screen changes from view:
Like a golden firefly,
In the dewy mountains and valleys,
Without revealing its whereabouts,
Spread out the glittering streamer,
In the grass and flowers that block our sight;
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Like a rose in bud
In its own green leaves,
Withered by the warm wind,
Until it gives off a fragrance
Eating too many sweets will make these thieves with wings faint.
Like a green leaf
Dark roses,
Damaged by hot air,
Until it turns into wheat straw
Drunk the reckless informer with too much sweetness;
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The sound of spring showers
On the flickering grass,
Flowers awakened by rain,
Everything that used to be
Happy, clear and fresh, your music is beyond.
Glittering grass,
The sound of spring rain,
Petals wake up after the rain,
It can be called refreshing,
Everything new is not as good as your music.
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Teach us, elf or bird,
What a sweet idea you have:
I have never heard.
Compliments of love or wine
Breathe out such a sacred ecstasy.
Birds or elves, what's the matter?
Do you have sweet thoughts in your head?
I have never heard of it.
Ode to love or pure wine
Can generate produce such a sacred stream of bliss.
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chorus
Or the arc de Triomphe
Matching with you will be all.
But an empty boast-
Something we think hides some kind of desire.
Whether it's a wedding chorus,
Whether it's a winning song,
Compared with your music,
It's just an exaggeration of air conditioning,
People can feel that there is always poverty among them.
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What is a fountain?
Your happy strain?
What fields, or waves, or mountains?
What shape is the sky or plain?
What kind of love is your kind? What ignorance of pain?
What kind of images or events,
Is the source of your happy music?
What fields, what waves, what mountains?
What forms of air and land?
Is it your love for the same kind, or your isolation from pain?
?
With your clear and keen joy
Burnout cannot be:
The shadow of trouble
Never come near you:
You love, but you never know the sad satisfaction of love.
Ming Che is very fond of you.
Burnout will never appear,
The shadow of trouble will never
I can't be near you,
You love, but you never know the sadness of loving too much.
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Whether awake or asleep,
Your death must be believed.
Things are more real and profound.
More than we mortals dream of,
Or how do your notes flow in this crystal stream?
Whether to wake up or go to bed,
Your understanding of death must be better than
What we mortals dream of.
More profound and true, otherwise
How can your music flow like a liquid crystal?
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We look at the front and back,
Longing for something that doesn't exist:
Our most sincere laughter
It is sad to bring some pain;
Our sweetest songs are those that tell the saddest thoughts.
We looked back and forth for the sake of
Things that don't exist bother you,
Our most sincere smile,
Mixed with some kind of distress,
Our most beautiful music is the tune that can best express our sadness.
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However, if we can despise
Hatred, pride and fear;
If we were born,
No tears,
I don't know how we can approach your happiness.
However, even if we can get rid of it.
Hatred, arrogance and fear,
Even if we weren't born.
Drop a tear,
I don't know how to approach your happiness.
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Better than all measures.
A sweet voice,
More than all treasures
Found it in the book,
You are a poet, you are a mocker of the earth!
Than all the happy rhythms.
Sweeter and better,
More than all the treasures in the book.
More abundant,
This is your contempt for dust, your artistic skill.
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Teach me half the happiness.
Your brain must know,
Such a harmonious madness
Flowing from my lips
At that time, the world should listen, as I am listening now!
Teach me half, your heart
This kind of happiness must be familiar,
Harmonious, fiery passion
Will come out of my mouth,
The whole world will listen as I do now.