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1 day _ Tang 1
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Original 1 and night 1
night
Ye Saining
The river is asleep,
The dark pine forest lost its noise.
The nightingale's song is silent,
Long-legged crake no longer crows happily.
Night comes. Very quiet,
I can only hear the stream singing softly.
The moon shines on the earth,
Silver everything around you.
The river is full of silver stars,
Silver waves overflow slightly in the stream.
Water flooded the grass on vilen,
Still shining with silver light.
When night fell, there was silence everywhere.
Nature is immersed in a dream.
The moon shines on the earth,
Silver everything around you.
2. The original text of Night 2
night
Ye Saining
Tired days continue into the night,
The noisy waves began to stop.
The sun goes down and the moon goes down.
Floating thoughtfully in the sky.
The silent valley is listening.
The murmur of a calm stream.
The dark Woods are bent,
Sleeping in the song of the nightingale.
The river listened to the songs of songbirds,
Chatting cordially with the beach.
And on the river, gently overflow.
The cheerful rustling of reeds.
3. Introduction to the author
Ye Saining (1895- 1925) is a Russian poet. He was born in a peasant family in Ryazan province and raised by a wealthy peasant grandfather. 19 12 graduated from normal school, then went to a printing factory in Moscow to do proofreading, and at the same time joined the Surikov Literature and Music Troupe, and worked part-time at Shanyavsky Civilian University. 19 14 published the lyric poem "White Birch"; 19/kloc-met Brock, Gorky and Mayakovski in 0/5, and published the first book of poetry, Day of the Dead. 19/kloc-joined the army in the spring of 0/6, and married Reich after retiring. In his early poems, he described the rural natural scenery, praised the life of patriarchal peasants, and joined imagist literary groups, showing pessimism in his works. Some poems after the October Revolution try to reflect the new revolutionary life, but they still cling to rural life and love utopian "farmers' paradise". His lyric poems are sincere in feelings and fresh in style, and are good at depicting rural natural scenery. On February 26th, 65438, he wrote a poem in blood: "Goodbye, my friend, goodbye, dear, you will always remember my heart. The separation of fate heralds the reunion in the afterlife. Goodbye, my friend, don't say goodbye, don't shake hands, don't be sad, don't be sad-in this world, coming back from the dead is nothing new, and of course it's rare. He yearned for lofty spiritual realm, but because of the extreme contradiction of his thoughts, he fell into pain and finally committed suicide in depression.