Who has foreign poems or sentences describing homesickness?

Tell me one I like very much, and it is also very famous.

Rupert Brooke (Rupert? Brooke's

The Old Vicarage,Grantchester

The original poem is very long and should be found on the Internet. The last two sentences are world-famous:

Stands the church clock at ten to three?

And is there honey still for tea?

The church clock has stopped at ten minutes to three.

Is there still honey when drinking (afternoon) tea?

Of course, China's translation is like this:

The church clock is past noon

Is there honey with tea fragrance?

This is a poem with faint sadness and deep homesickness.

The fine taste makes people feel a quiet and serene atmosphere.

Robert Browning (1812-1889) is a famous English poet in the 19th century. This poem is Browning's most famous short poem expressing feelings, which is famous for its strong homesickness.

Home-Thoughts, From Abroad

Robert Browning

Oh, to be in England Now that April's there,

And whoever wakes in England

Sees, some morning, unaware,

That the lowest boughs and the brushwood sheaf

Round the elm-tree bole are in tiny leaf,

While the chaffinch sings on the orchard bough

In England—now!

And after April, when May follows,

And the whitethroat builds, and all the swallows!

Hark, where my blossom'd peartree in the hedge

Leans to the field and scatters n the clover

Blossoms and dewdrops—at the bent spray's edge—

That's the wise thrush; he sings each song twice over,

Lest you should think he never could recapture

The first fine careless rapture!

And though the fields look rough with hoary dew,

All will be gay when noontide wakes anew

The buttercups, the little children's dower

--Far brighter than this gaudy milon-flower!

homesickness in a foreign land

Oh, I wish I were in England at the moment

It's spring and April.

No matter who is there,

when you wake up, you will always see that in the morning,

the low branches and dense bushes

are already lush around the elm trees,

the finches are chirping in the branches of the orchard,

in England-at this time.

April is gone, and May is coming.

Grey finches build nests, and there are swallows all over the world!

My pear tree next to the fence

stretches out into the field, and the clover

is covered with petals and dew-listen, at the end of the twig-

that clever thrush sings two songs,

for fear that you think he will never reproduce the carefree surprise when he first sang

.

Although the Millennium makes the fields look sad, the midday sun will make everything shine again.

Jin Fenghua, the dowry of children,

-brighter than this gaudy melon!