Gender: male
Date of birth: 1795 ~ 182 1.
Place of birth: London
Nationality: UK
Keats (1795 ~ 182 1), an English poet, was born in London. His father was a foreman in a stable. Keats loved literature since childhood, but because of his poor family, he dropped out of school to study medicine before 16. Keats' parents died in succession when he was a teenager. Although two brothers and one sister took care of him very much, Keats was always affected by the sadness of losing his parents prematurely. Keats received a traditional and formal education at enfield School. Keats was encouraged by his teacher Charles Corden Clark in reading and writing. Young Keats likes Virgil very much. /kloc-at the age of 0/4, he translated Virgil's long poem Aeneas into English. 18 10, Keats was sent as an apprentice to a pharmacist. Keats was admitted to a medical school in London five years later, but within a year, Keats gave up his wish to be a doctor and concentrated on writing poetry. Keats tried to write poetry very early, and most of his early works were imitations. 18 16 years, he met famous poets such as Lee Hunt and Shelley, and was influenced by them. 1 1 June, 2008, he abandoned medicine and started writing poetry. Finally, he became a dazzling superstar in the British literary world at that time.
18 17, Keats' first collection of poems was published. This collection of poems received some favorable comments, but some extremely harsh and rude comments were published in an influential magazine at that time (blackwood magazine). Undeterred, Keats published a new collection of poems, Endymion, next spring. 18/kloc-in the summer of 0/8, Keats traveled to northern England and Scotland. On the way, he got the news that his brother Tom was suffering from severe tuberculosis. Keats hurried home to take care of Tom at once. At the end of this year, Tom died, and Keats moved to a friend's house in hampstead, Hampshire, which is now regarded as Keats' home. There, Keats met and fell in love with a young female neighbor, Fanny Braun. In the next few years, illness and economic problems have been bothering Keats, but he unexpectedly wrote a lot of excellent works, including A Night in Saint agnes, Ode to a Nightingale and Autumn. Keats coughed up blood for the first time in March. 1820. Keats died of rapidly deteriorating tuberculosis on February 23rd, 182 1.
Keats' first poem was an imitation of Spencer, and later he wrote many excellent sonnets. His early poems were included in the first book of poetry published in March 18 17. The following year, he wrote Antimian according to a beautiful ancient Greek myth. The poem is full of imagination, colorful, full of desire for freedom, and shows the progressive tendency of anti-classicism.
The period from 18 18 to 1820 is the heyday of Keats' poetry creation. He has successively completed famous long poems such as Isabella, The Eve of Saint and Xu Peilian, the most famous of which are Ode to a Nightingale, Ode to an Ancient Greek Urn and Ode to Autumn.
Keats is brilliant in poetry, so are Shelley and Byron. He is only 25 years old, but his poems are world-renowned. He is regarded as a perfect embodiment of the characteristics of western romantic poetry and an outstanding representative of the European romantic movement.
Attach a poem.
Ode to a Nightingale
John Keats
Ode to the nightingale
keats
My heart hurts, and I feel sleepy and numb.
I feel like hemlock I drank.
Or pour some anesthetic into the sewer
A minute has passed, and the worry has sunk.
My heart hurts, and I feel sleepy and numb.
Poisoned the senses, just like drinking poison,
I think I just swallowed opium.
Soon, these words were forgotten.
This is not because I am jealous of your happiness.
But being too happy in your happiness-
You are a light Dryad in the Woods.
In some melodious plots
Beech green and countless shadows
Sing summer with the loudest voice.
Not jealous of your luck,
I'm happy for your luck,
You, an elf with light wings in the forest,
Among the buildings of Beech under the greenwood tree,
Open your voice and sing summer.
Ah, for a bottle of wine! That's already
Cooled for a long time in the deep underground.
Taste plants and country green.
Dance and Provencal songs and sunny laughter!
Oh, for a beaker full of warm south.
Full of true red spirit springs.
Bead bubbles flicker at the edge.
And a purple mouth
I can drink and make the world invisible.
Disappear with you in the dark forest
Hey, have a drink! Nalengcang
Ethylene glycol has been buried underground for many years.
Tastes like the flower god, the green earth,
Dance, love songs and burning joy!
Hey, a glass full of southern warmth,
Full of bright red inspiration,
The pearl foam on the edge of the cup sparkles,
The purple of the lips;
I want to drink it so that I can't see the world.
Follow you into the depths of the dark forest
Disappear in the distance, dissolve, forget completely
What you don't know in the leaves
Fatigue, fever and anxiety
People sit here and listen to each other's groans;
Paralysis shakes the last few sad white hairs.
There, youth becomes pale, thin like a ghost, and then dies;
Except thinking, where will it be full of sadness?
And leaden eyes in despair
Where beauty can't keep her bright eyes.
Or new love will languish for them after tomorrow.
Far away, disappear, forget completely
What you didn't know in the forest,
Fatigue, fever and impatience
Here, people sit down and listen to each other's groans;
Paralysis shook for a while, sadness, the last few strands of white hair,
Youth is pale, eccentric and thin, and then dies;
Lead-eyed despair;
Beauty can't open her eyes,
New relationships can't last forever.
Go away. Go away. Because I will fly to you
It wasn't driven by Bacchus and his friends.
But on the invisible wings of poetry
Although the dull brain is confused and dull
I am already with you! Tender Is The Night
Maybe the Queen of the Moon 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.
Let's go Let's go I want to fly to you,
Didn't run over Dionysus's car and his entourage,
On the invisible wings of poetry,
Although this confused mind has followed you,
The night is gentle, and after a month.
On her throne,
Surrounded by all her star fairies,
But there's no light here or there,
Some skylight is blown green by the breeze,
And the winding path of moss.
I can't see any flowers at my feet.
I don't know what kind of incense is hanging on the branches.
But in the darkness of anticorrosion, guess every sweetness.
What does the timely month give it?
Grass, bushes and wild fruit trees;
White hawthorn and pastoral;
Leaves cover the withered violets;
And the eldest son in mid-May.
Musk rose filled with dew wine
A place where flies haunt on summer nights.
I can't see clearly which flowers are at my feet.
What kind of soft fragrance hangs on the high branches,
But in the warm darkness, guess every sweetness.
With its seasonal gift.
Grass, shrubs, wild fruit trees
White hawthorn and garden roses;
Violets that wither easily in leaves;
The first time was in May and mid-May,
This musk rose is full of dew,
On summer nights, flies are buzzing inside.
I listened to the darkness; most of the time
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;
Now, death seems to be richer than ever.
Stop painlessly at midnight
When you pour out your soul
In such ecstasy!
You can still sing, but I can't hear you-
Turn into a turf in front of your high requiem.
How many times have I heard of the night?
I almost fell in love with a quiet death,
Calling her gentle name in so many meditative rhymes,
Weaving into a song, I breathe silently;
Now she's dying more beautifully,
Flying in the middle of the night without sadness,
When you pour out your soul
So fanatical!
You're still singing, I can't hear you,
Your Gao 'an Soul Music is facing the friction of dirt.
You are not an immortal bird born for death!
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.
When Ruth is homesick, she crosses her sad heart.
She stood in a strange cornfield with tears in her eyes;
The same thing often happens.
Charming magical windows open on foam.
In the dangerous ocean of the abandoned celestial world.
Lonely! This word is like a clock.
Let me go back to myself from you!
Goodbye! Fantasy can't cheat so well.
Because she is a famous liar.
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?
Fairy bird! You weren't born to die!
Hungry time can't ravage you;
What did I hear on this lost night?
It was also heard by the ancient emperors and clowns;
Maybe the same song is in Ruth's sad heart.
Found a way, and when she missed her hometown,
Standing in the valley of a foreign country and crying;
This voice often
Shocked the window sash of the lost fairy tale city
Watch the foam spray
Lost! The words rang like a silver bell.
Take me away from you, alone!
Farewell! Fantasy can't continue to deceive.
When she was no longer capable,
Farewell! Farewell! Your sad hymn
Back to the back lawn, flowing through the stream,
Surging on the hillside; And at this time, it deeply
Buried in the shadow of the next valley:
Is it illusion or dream?
The song is gone: am I awake? I fell asleep?