Simple and inspiring English poems selected from One Foot in Eden
Edwin Muir
One foot is still in the Garden of Eden, and I am standing.
Look at another land.
The greatest day in the world is getting late,
However, it is strange that these fields we planted.
The crops of love and hate are so long.
The works of time are troubled by time,
Nothing can be separated now.
Corn and barnyard grass grow very compact.
Zoysia japonica in the static world
About stalks; These are our own.
Evil and goodness are inseparable.
In the field of charity and sin
We will lead our harvest.
However, roots still gushed from the Garden of Eden.
As clean as the first day.
Time has taken away the leaves and fruits.
Burning prototype leaves
The shape of terror and sadness
Scattered on the roads in winter.
But hungry fields and blackened trees
Flowers that have never been seen in the Garden of Eden.
Flowers of sadness and charity
Blooming alone in this dark field.
What did Eden say?
Hope, faith, pity and love
Until it was buried all day.
Memory found its treasure?
There are never strange blessings in heaven.
Fall from a cloudy sky.
Just walked out of Eden
Edwin? Muir
Just out of the Garden of Eden,
I stopped to look out.
The glory of the world is near dusk,
This land has become very strange,
There, we have been cultivating hatred and love.
The masterpiece of time has its own destruction,
Weeds are accompanied by seedlings,
Who can break up the godsend marriage?
This is our world,
Similar to barnyard grass and straw;
In this field of good and sin,
Good and evil are inseparable,
We harvest crops year after year.
However, its roots grow in Eden,
It was obvious from the beginning,
The four seasons bring crops,
Then scorch all the leaves,
Turn them into shapes of terror and sadness,
Spread the winter road along the way.
Hungry land and charred trees bloom,
Not even in the Garden of Eden.
This sad and kind flower,
Only in the blackened fields!
Until its light disappears,
Until its treasure is discovered by memory,
For hope, faith, pity, love,
How can Eden not make people speechless?
Magical blessings will never come to heaven,
But it fell from a cloudy sky.
Read an easy-to-understand inspirational English poem and dedicate it to my wife.
Thomas stearns aylott
Who do I owe the joy of jumping?
When we wake up, it makes my feelings more acute.
The rhythm that governs our sleep time,
Everyone gasped in unison.
Lovers' bodies smell of each other.
They can think the same question without talking,
Chatter on about meaningless things. ...
A violent winter wind will not be cold.
The gloomy tropical sun will not wither.
The roses in the rose garden are ours and only belong to us.
But this dedication is for others to see:
These are private words spoken to you in public.
inscription
Thomas? Stearns. surname
You make my happiness soar,
When we wake up, wake up my consciousness,
Your rhythm controls the rest of our sleep,
We are lovers, living and dying together.
Our bodies and gases are mixed together, and we can't tell each other apart.
Thinking the same thing without asking,
Saying the same thing aimlessly.
Not afraid of the beating of the cold wind in winter,
Why are you afraid of the heat and the sun?
We have a garden where roses are always in full bloom.
This title is for others to read.
It's also the privacy I told you publicly.
Simply read inspirational English poems and learn hollow people.
Thomas stearns aylott
We are hollow men.
We are stuffers.
Stay together.
A helmet full of straw. Alas!
The sound of our dryness, when
We whisper together.
Is quiet and meaningless
Like the wind in the hay
Or mouse feet on broken glass
In our dry cellar
Shape without form, shadow without color,
Paralytic strength, no posture of movement;
Those who crossed.
Look directly at another kingdom of death.
Remember us-if there is one-and don't get lost.
Violent souls, but only
As a hollow man
Fill people.
The Hollow Man
Thomas? Stearns. surname
We are hollow people,
The human figure is empty,
Depend on each other,
God, my mind is full of losers!
Our voices are dry,
Like hay in the wind,
We talked in low voices,
Death and emptiness,
Like a mouse crawling through broken glass,
Make a shriveled sound in the cellar.
The body is invisible, the color is invisible,
Weak paralysis, meaningless behavior.
Through the curtain of death,
People's eyes are sharp,
If you really remember us,
Then we are different from degenerate and tyrannical souls,
We are human beings,
It's just a pity