Appreciation of Excellent English Poetry Part I
Ode to the Greek urn
Ode to the ancient Greek urn
John Keats
John? keats
You still untie the quiet bride,
Have you made up your mind? Silence? A perfect virgin,
You are the adopted son of silence and slow time,
Did you get it? Silence? And then what? Dragon? Take care of,
Sylvain historian, who can express this?
Ah, an idyllic historian,
A gorgeous story sweeter than our rhythm:
You can tell a more gorgeous story than poetry:
There is a legend that leaves surround you.
Is your body full of ancient legends,
God or mortal, or both,
With green leaves as the edge;
Tempe or Arkady Valley?
Talking about people, or gods, Dempi or Akadi?
Who are these people or gods? What kind of girl doesn't like it?
Oh, what kind of person, or God!
What crazy pursuit? What struggle to escape?
What a passionate pursuit before the dance music! How can girls run!
What pipes and timbre? What crazy ecstasy?
What bagpipes and drums! How fascinating!
The melody you hear is sweet, but those you can't hear.
Although the music you hear is good, what you can't hear is more beautiful;
Sweeter. Therefore, Ye softened his pipe and played it;
So, blow, gentle bagpipes;
Not the ears of the senses, but, more lovely,
Not for the ears, but sweeter,
From pipe to tonal spiritual ditty;
It plays silent music for the soul;
Beautiful young man, under the tree, you can't leave
Beautiful boy under the tree, you can't stop singing,
Your songs, those trees will never be bare;
That tree can't shed leaves;
Brave lover, you can never, ever kiss,
Reckless lover, you will never, never kiss,
Although you won near the target? However, don't be sad;
But is it close enough? But don't be sad;
She won't fade, although you don't have your happiness,
She won't be old, although you can't get what you want,
You will always love her, she is beautiful!
You will always love, and she will always be beautiful!
Ah, happy, happy branches! Unable to get rid of
Oh, happy tree!
Your leaves never bid farewell to spring;
Your branches and leaves will not fall off, and you will never leave spring;
Happy melody hand, Wenwali? d，
Happy pipers never stop,
Always blow a new song forever;
His songs are always so fresh;
Happier love! How happy, happy love!
Oh, happier, happier love!
Always warm and enjoyable,
Always warm, waiting for the lover's feast,
Always panting, always young;
Heartbeat is always warm and always young;
All who breathe human passion,
Happiness is all these extraordinary forms:
Leave a sad and cold heart,
It won't make the mind feel satisfied and sad,
Burning forehead, thirsty tongue.
No fiery mind, thirsty lips.
Who are these people who come to participate in the sacrifice?
who the hell are all these people？ Do they all have to make sacrifices?
Mysterious priest, which green altar to go to,
This sacrificial calf, singing to the sky,
You lead the cow that is whispering in the sky,
Where are you taking it, mysterious priest?
Her silk skirt is decorated with garlands?
The wreath filled its smooth waist.
A small town by the river or the sea,
From a small town near the river and the sea,
Or built on a mountain, with a quiet castle,
Or some quiet village in Baozhai,
Have all its people left on this pious morning?
These people came, on this week morning?
Small town, your street forever.
Oh, town, your streets are always quiet;
Will be silent; Not a soul, tell
It's impossible to come back. A soul tells people,
Why you are desolate and can never return.
Why are you so lonely?
O attic modeling! Fair attitude! With brede
Oh, Greek shape! Aesthetic observation!
Marble men and girls are too nervous,
Oh, Greek shape! Aesthetic observation!
There are branches and trampled weeds;
Men and women with stone carvings on them, as well as trees and trampled grass;
You, silent form! Are we really amused?
Silent body, what do you look like? Eternity makes people transcend ideas:
Eternity is also: the cold countryside!
Oh, the cold countryside!
When this generation gets old,
When old age withers this generation, only you are as old as before;
You should stay, among other sorrows.
Among other sorrows,
Compared with us, friends of mankind, you say,
You will comfort future generations and say:
Beauty is truth, and truth is beauty. That's it.
? Beauty is truth, truth beauty.
What you know on earth, and what you need to know.
This includes everything you know and should know.
Appreciation of Excellent English Poetry Part II
Elegy written in a rural cemetery
Elegy of rural cemetery
Thomas Grey
Thomas? grey
The curfew sounded the death knell of parting,
The late bell rang the death knell of farewell day,
Cleisthenes's herds circled slowly on the grassland,
Baa baa sheep are walking slowly on the grass.
The farmer trudged home wearily,
The farmer hobbled home tired.
Leave the world to darkness and me.
Leave the whole world to me and darkness.
Now the flickering scenery in front of us has gradually faded away.
At this moment, the earth is shining and slowly fading away.
The solemn air hangs over everything,
There was silence and solemnity all around,
Except where beetles hum,
I only heard beetles buzzing in the air,
The sleepy jingle calmed the distant folds;
The heavy bell hypnotized the sheepfold in the distance.
Save it from the ivy-covered tower over there,
I only heard that on the ivy-covered tower over there,
The melancholy owl complained to the moon,
A melancholy owl complained to the moon,
Like wandering around her secret gazebo,
Complaining that someone was wandering around her secret boudoir,
Harassing her ancient lonely rule.
Disturbed her ancient and quiet courtyard.
Under those rugged elms, the shadow of yew trees,
Under the old elm tree, in the shadow of yew,
Pile up the turf in piles,
Many wasteland mounds on rotten grass,
Everyone is always lying in a small cell,
One by one, lying in a small cellar forever,
Hamlet's primitive ancestors slept.
The common ancestors in the village rest in peace here.
Breathing the call of the morning breeze with incense,
The fragrant morning breeze gently calls,
Swallows are chirping in the shed made of straw.
Whispering of swallows on the thatched shed,
The cock's sharp horn, or the echo horn,
The horn echoes, or the rooster crows loudly.
Never wake them up from their humble beds again.
Never wake them up from bed again.
For them, the blazing fire will no longer burn,
The blazing fire will no longer burn for them,
Or busy housewives are busy with evening care;
Housewives don't work for them at night,
No children went to babble that their father was back,
The child stopped shouting and ran to welcome his father home.
Or climb on his knee and share that enviable kiss.
No more kissing and coquetry on your knees.
Their sickles often harvest crops,
Once upon a time, they used sickles to grab a bumper harvest.
Their stubborn furrow has been broken;
The hardened clods are plowed into ridges and ditches;
How happy they are to drive their team to other places!
How happy they are to drive the animals into the fields!
How crooked the Woods are under their powerful blows!
Strong cutting power makes trees bow!
Don't let ambition mock their beneficial hard work,
No? Ambition? Laugh at their useful hard work,
Their ordinary happiness and vague fate;
The joy of home and the fate of obscurity;
Nor did he hear a contemptuous smile,
Don't let it happen? Luxury? With a contemptuous sneer
A concise chronicle of the poor.
Listen to the simple and short life of the poor.
The ostentation of heraldry, the pomp of power,
A flamboyant family, prominent power,
All the beauty, all the wealth,
Everything that beauty and wealth give,
Waiting for the inevitable moment.
Also waiting for the inevitable result:
The glorious road only leads to the grave.
The glorious road will eventually lead to the grave.
Appreciation of Excellent English Poetry Part III
Love songs by J. Alfred Pruefer Locke
Alfred. Pruefer Locke's Love Song
T. Eliot
surname
Do you believe me?
If I think, I am the answer,
One of the greatest people in the world,
Someone who can come back to this world,
I want to ask you a question.
Then, the flame won't flicker any more.
I like this question very much.
But because, I heard, it's true.
Don't live in life, I want to live forever,
No one can leave this abyss alive,
My name is "Voice of Children".
Don't be afraid of rumors if I answer.
Let's go, you and me,
Then let's go, you and me,
When the night unfolds in the sky
Like dusk slowly spreading to the sky.
Just like a patient being anesthetized on the operating table;
It seems that the patient was anesthetized on the operating table;
Let's go and cross some semi-desolate streets.
Let's cross some semi-cold streets.
Muttered and retreated
The rest place there is full of people;
A sleepless night in a cheap hotel
There are cheap hotels that stay up all night.
Sawdust restaurant made of oyster shells:
A restaurant full of sawdust and clam shells;
The street is like a boring argument.
Streets are connected with streets, which seems to be an annoying argument.
An insidious intention
Have ulterior motives.
Lead you to a difficult question. ...
Lead you to a major problem?
Oh, don't ask. What is this?
Oh, don't ask. What is that?
Let's pay a visit.
Let's go and visit.
Women come and go in the room.
Ladies are walking back and forth in the living room,
Speaking of Michelangelo.
Talking about the painter Michelangelo.
The yellow fog rubbed its back on the window pane,
The yellow fog rubbed its back on the window pane,
Yellow smoke rubbed against its muzzle on the window pane,
Yellow smoke rubbed its mouth on the window pane,
Stick your tongue out to the corner of dusk,
Lick its tongue into the corner of dusk,
Wandering on the pool in the sewer,
Wandering in a dry puddle;
Let the soot from the chimney fall on its back,
Let the ashes falling from the chimney fall on its back,
Sneaking to the terrace, suddenly jumping,
It slipped down the steps and suddenly jumped up.
Seeing that it was a soft October night,
Since it is a tender October night,
I curled up around the house and fell asleep.
So he curled up and slept near the house.