About Emily Dickinson

Category: Culture/Art >> Literature

Problem description:

Please give me some information about her, and it is better to attach her famous articles. Thank you!

Analysis:

Give you a paper about Emily Dickinson, which contains personal information and famous articles. Besides, you typed her name wrong, hee hee.

In the history of American literature, few people are as profound, sincere and legendary as Emily Dickinson (1830- 1886). These characteristics are not only reflected in her poems and thoughts, but also included in her own life experience and emotional world. Emily has always been a mystery to most people. Emily left almost no trace in American literature before her death, except that her friend published six poems without her consent. It was decades after Emily's death that people began to get to know her. She is the kind of genius who was born at the wrong time and became famous later, a bit like the Dutch painter Van Gogh. The difference is that Van Gogh was poor and broke down. Emily herself lives in a middle-class family, lives a carefree life, concentrates on reading and writing, is indifferent to secular utilitarianism, and is isolated from the world, building her own rich and profound spiritual nest. "How can you be alone when you keep the window all day?" (Li Qingzhao)

I am nobody. /Who are you? /Are you a nobody? /We are a couple. /Don't talk. /They will drive us away. /You know.

How boring it is to compete for the position of a celebrity,/appear like a frog/make noise in this long June/in the mud pond that worships it. (Dickinson's poem, translated by Jin Xin)

Emily Dickinson's father is a famous lawyer in amherst. He has been in charge of finance in local colleges and universities for many years and enjoys high social prestige. At home, he is strict with his children, taking the Bible and classical literature as spiritual pillars, and only allowing children to read these books. The son of three children doesn't seem to worry his parents, but two unmarried daughters who have stayed in the boudoir for many years have become a heart disease for his family. This eldest daughter, in particular, is alone in front of the window all day, meditating silently and writing silently. Sometimes she doesn't talk all day, and her temperament seems lonely and sparse. Even guests from home never want to come out to meet each other. Apart from studying at amherst University for six years when she was young, and studying at Horyock Women's Theological Seminary for one year, Emily almost never left her home and was isolated from the outside world for a long time. She has traveled once or twice before, but that is unique to her. She spent her whole life in her hometown. When she was young, people could still see her playing with her neighbor's children in her garden. Later, because of illness, Emily had to shut herself in her boudoir, and she rarely communicated with the outside world, making it even harder for people to see her. Sometimes, people can occasionally see her putting food in a small bamboo basket upstairs and then slowly descending from the window with a rope. There are already several little guys downstairs.

This is the best way for Emily to communicate with the outside world by herself. Although Emily in this period could not talk with people as easily as ordinary people, she still communicated with nature and children with her heart. Whenever this time, a sweet smile will appear on her face.

Emily always hides early when her sister's friends or other guests visit. So if anyone can catch a glimpse of her white figure passing through the hall by chance, it will be their capital to show off to others. Although Emily seldom meets people face to face, she keeps in touch with the outside world in her own way. That is to correspond with few friends. A letter is actually only one or two lines, such as, "Did you pay attention tonight?" "The new moon is like a girl from a gold mine." Such a beautiful poem is actually an image that flashed through her mind by accident. It is meaningful and interesting to her, but others may not fully understand the true meaning.

Never understand Emily's withdrawn and quiet temperament as a world-weary mood. In fact, in her seemingly indifferent heart, it is the poet's sincere and lasting love for nature, family and friends. It's just that this kind of love is too subtle, too obscure, too special, too elegant, like a trickle in the jungle, and also like a gurgling stream in the gap between rocks. Although it is not discovered and understood by ordinary people, it is calm, meaningful and nourishing.

No one can explain why Emily has lived alone for a long time. The popular saying comes from her family's speculation. They think she has closed the door to her heart because she secretly fell in love with a married man and knew that it would not work out. 1854, Emily met a priest named wadsworth during a trip and fell in love with him, calling him "the dearest earthly friend". She even wrote a "Lover" based on him and wrote it in her own poem to express her feelings. But because Wordsworth is a married man, Emily's love can't have any results, so she closed herself up and devoted herself to poetry creation. But after all, this is just a family guess. No one can really know the emotional course of Emily's inner world. This is her temper, knowing that there will be no result, but she will never change. I don't even think it's necessary to let anyone know, including my lover. Like a moth to a flame, I would rather die for my ideal as long as I die well.

In fact, Emily's poems mainly benefit from two people. One is BenjaminF F. Newton, a law student who used to work in her father's office. He taught Emily how to collect books and write poems, and advised her to pay attention to her poetry creation, not just for fun. The other is Thomas Winos Higginson.

That year, Emily read an article published by Hutchinson in Atlantic Monthly, in which he said that "it is the bounden duty of editors to discover genius" and taught young writers to "inject passion into their writing style" ... to describe things in language ... to melt years of enthusiasm into a vocabulary and write down their savings in one sentence. Attracted by these views, she couldn't help writing a letter to Hutchinson, stating her literary views and attaching four poems of her own. Hutchinson was surprised when he received the letter, because it was unsigned and only the words "Emily Dickinson" were signed on the envelope. In the letter, she begged Hutchinson to be her "master" and called herself "your elf" and "your student". Hutchinson appreciates Emily's talent and thinks she is very unique. They began to correspond and often exchanged views on literature. Emily also sends her poems to Hutchinson from time to time. In a letter, she once wrote: "If there is a book that can make me feel cold after reading and there is no fire to warm me, I know it must be a poem. If I have a feeling that my head is off, I know it must be a poem. This is my only understanding of poetry. In addition, will there be other understandings? "

1870 Hutchinson came to Amherst to visit the poetess. Emily is already a 40-year-old girl Because I have been alone for a long time, I am not used to talking to people, and my speech is rather confusing. Nevertheless, she left a deep impression on Hutchinson. Although she has reservations about some of her creative styles, she thinks she can feel an illusory, talented and sincere charm.

Without the fetters of family life and the troubles of secular affairs, Emily devoted all her time to her garden, west window and study. A dead fly, a withered flower, a clump of grass swaying in the wind or a flying bird may all bring her inspiration for poetry and inspire her creation. She is good at linking different images and giving them new ideas. "The wind combed the sky with its fingers", "March came boldly and knocked at the door like a neighbor", "The moon slipped down the stairs to spy,' Who's there?' "

"Hope" is a bird without feathers/perches on the soul/sings a song without lyrics/never forgets (Dickinson's poem, translated by Jin Xin)

Before Emily's death, almost no one, including her family, knew that she could write poetry, and everything went on silently in a plain life. Her attitude in writing poems is very strict, and she never exaggerates for the sake of fame. However, her writing style is very casual and she is used to writing poems on some post-it notes and pieces of paper. After many a mickle makes a mickle, she sewed the pieces of paper together, rolled them up, tied them with a ribbon and put them in the drawer of her desk. Just as Madame Curie didn't take the Nobel Prize seriously and let the children play casually, Dickinson didn't take her poetry creation seriously at all. Before she died, she gave her sister her poem and told her to burn it and not to stay in the world. Fortunately, after reading these poems, her sister couldn't bear to destroy the manuscript, so that more than 700 poems of/kloc-0 survived and became treasures in American literature.

I died for beauty-I was placed in this grave/someone died for truth and was buried in a nearby cave/he once asked softly, "Why did you die?" /"For beauty" I replied/"I, for truth-they are the same/we are brothers" He spoke/just like this, like two men, meeting at this night/talking across the grave/until the moss climbed to our lips/hiding his name on our stone tablet (Dickinson's poem, translated by Jin Xin)

Attach several famous articles.

I have never seen a wasteland.

I've never seen a wasteland-

I've never seen the sea-

But I know Heather's face.

And rough waves.

I've never talked to God.

I've never been to heaven-

But I seem to have passed the inspection.

I will definitely go to that place.

Cloudy darkness

The sky is low and cloudy,

Fly over a snowflake.

Through the rutted stables,

It is difficult to decide whether to stay.

Who treats the wind like this,

Let it complain all day.

Nature, like us,

There is usually no crown.

I am nobody! Who are you? (260)

I am nobody! Who are you?

Are you a nobody, too

Then let's be a couple!

Stop it! They will spread.-You know that!

How boring-it's a celebrity!

How ostentatious-like a frog-

Say your name-Long June-

Give a swamp of appreciation!

Faith is a subtle invention.

When gentlemen can see—

But the microscope is cautious.

In an emergency.

Become a fugitive

As soon as I heard the word "escape"

Blood flow is accelerated,

Sudden expectations,

The urge to fly.

I have never heard of an open prison.

Knocked down by the soldiers,

But I dragged the fence childishly-

Just failed again!

Hope (2) 254

"Hope" is that things have feathers.

Living in the soul,

Singing songs without lyrics,

Never stop,

Breeze is the sweetest.

There is no doubt that heavy rain will cause pain.

Will upset the birds.

Keep this warm.

Listen to it cross the wonderful ocean.

Fly over the cold fields

But it doesn't want my bread crumbs.

Even if you are extremely hungry.

The heart needs happiness first (536)

The heart needs pleasure first.

Then ask for pain relief;

After that, I want those little painkillers.

Relieve the pain;

Then, ask for sleep;

As the judge wishes.

And then it should be

Ask for the freedom to die.

compensation

For every moment of ecstasy

We must pay for the pain,

Sting and tremor

In direct proportion to ecstasy.

For every beautiful moment.

Will be compensated by years of meager salary,

Fight hard for half a dime and eighty cents.

And a money box full of tears.

battlefield

They fall like snowflakes, like meteors,

Like roses, petals fall one after another,

When the fingers of the wind suddenly

I wore it all through early June and summer.

Where the eyes can't find it,-

They wither in the grass with tight gaps;

But God launched his unforgivable list.

You can still summon every face.

I have no time to hate.

I have no time to hate, because

The grave will stop me,

And life is not that simple.

Can stop my hostility.

And I don't have time to love,

Just because you have to be a little diligent,

I thought a little hard love

It's hard enough for me.

My river flows to you.

My river flows to you-

Blue sea! Will you welcome me?

My river is waiting for an answer-

The sea-it looks kind and kind-

I'll invite you to the stream.

From dirty corners—

Go ahead-Hai-accept me!

my friend

My friend must be a bird—

Because it can fly!

My friend must be alone,

Because it will die!

It has barbs, like a bee!

Oh, strange friends!

You're confusing me!

Is heaven a doctor?

They say he can cure diseases;

But medicine after death

It's useless

Is heaven the national treasury?

They talked about our debts;

But that negotiation

I didn't attend.

Pain lies in characteristics.

The urgency is in that sign.

The ecstasy of farewell

Call it "death"

Speaking of sustained growth

Suffering will happen.

I know it has been approved.

Reunited with the same kind.

The mystery of pain

Pain has a blank element;

Don't remember anymore.

When it starts, or if one day,

When it doesn't hurt.

It has no future except itself,

Including its infinite territory.

That's the past. Enlighten and feel.

A new round of pain.

It's too late for mankind.

But it's still early for god.

Creation, weak help

But the rest, we can still pray.

Cannot exist locally.

How wonderful heaven is!

At that time, the expression of our old neighbor God.

How hospitable, thoughtful and considerate it will be.

Go to heaven!

I don't know when-

Please don't ask me how!

I am so surprised.

I can't think of the answer!

Go to heaven!

How sad and sad!

But it will be done.

Like a sheep coming home at one o'clock at night.

Take care of the shepherd!

Maybe you should go, too!

Who knows?

If you want to arrive first

Please leave a small space for me.

Close to the two relatives I lost-

The smallest pajamas will suit me.

There is also a small "corolla"

You know, when we got home,

We don't care about clothes.

I'm glad I don't believe it.

Because it will make me stop breathing-

I want to take another look.

What a strange world!

I'm glad they believe this.

I never found them again.

Since that autumn afternoon

I left them underground.

Who is the East?

Golden man

He may be a purple man.

Report sunrise

Who is the West?

Purple man

He may be a good man.

Send the sunset

It is such a small ship.

Staggered down the harbor!

What a magnificent sea

Draw it away!

Such a greedy and powerful wave

Flapping it off the coast;

Never imagined this solemn and magnificent sail.

I still lost my handmade boat!

I keep my oath.

I was never called-

Death didn't inform me,

I brought my roses.

I, swear it again,

Every sacred bee-

Daisies on the hillside-

In the name of the rice eater in the alley.

Flowers and I-

Her vows and mine-

I will definitely do it again.

angel

Angel, in the morning

Xu saw them in the dew:

Bend-pick-smile-fly-

Is this bud theirs?

Angel, when the hot sun is like fire

Xu saw them in the sand.

Bend-pick-smile-fly-

The flowers they took have dried up.

Answer in July

Where are the bees?

Where is the red color?

Where is the hay?

Ah, July said

Where are the seeds?

Where is Bud?

I'll let you answer

No.-May said

Show me the snow.

Show me the bell.

Show me Jay!

Picky Jay

Where is the corn?

Where is the fog?

Where are the thorns?

Here, Nian said.

The lady feeds her birds.

There is almost no interval.

The bird didn't disagree.

But meekly admit

The gap between this hand and her

Between no debris and being far away.

Faint, gently fall on

On her yellow knee, with worship.

Faith; believe

Losing a person's faith,

Far greater than losing a property;

Because the property can be relocated,

And faith cannot be rebuilt.

Faith can be inherited from life,

But only once;

Abolish a single clause to be a man

This is the abject poverty of beggars.

How far is it to heaven?

It is as far away as death;

Over the mountains,

I don't know where to go.

How far is it from hell?

It is as far away as death;

How far is the grave on the left,

The terrain is difficult to measure.

I'm afraid of having a soul.

I'm afraid of having a soul—

I'm afraid of having a body—

Deep and dangerous property—

There are no selected ingredients

Dual assets-happy limited inheritance property

To an unexpected heir—

The monarch of eternal moment

The god who rules Xinjiang.

Yesterday is history.

Yesterday is history,

It was a long time ago—

Yesterday was poetry—

This is a philosophical concept—

Yesterday was a mystery—

Where is it today?

When we think wisely,

Both of them flapped their wings and flew into the distance.

ashes

Ashes mean too much fire—

The grayest pile is great.

Because dead creatures

They used to wander around there—

Fire originally existed in the form of light.

Then the fire was very strong and the flame was very strong.

Only chemists can reveal it.

What carbonate did it become? .

He forgot-and I remember.

He forgot-I remember-

This is Christ and Peter.

Everyday things from a long time ago—

Use "the fire of the temple" to "warm them".

"You and him" —— Talking about "girls"?

"No"-Peter said, "That's not me-"

Christ just looked at Peter—

For you.-Can I do something else?

He is weak and I am strong-so.

He's weak and I'm strong—so—

He asked me to take him—

I'm weak, he's strong, so—

I asked him to take me home.

The road is not far-the door is nearby-

It's not dark either-because he went-

Not loud-because he didn't speak-

That's all I want to know.

Knocking at the door during the day—we have to separate—

Now-no one is the strongest-

He tried—so did I—

Even though we did nothing!

Because I can't stop to die.

Because I can't stop to die—

He stopped to show me friendliness and kindness—

The carriage only carries us—

And immortality.

We drove slowly, and he knew there was no need to worry.

I waved and refused.

My work and comfort,

Because he's polite—

We passed by the school and had a rest.

The children form a circle—playing games—

We passed the farmland and stared at the grain.

We missed the sunset—

That's right—he passed us—

Dew caused the cold—

Because my skirt-it's just a delicate tulle fabric.

My shawl-it's just a silk screen.

We stopped in front of a building.

It looks like a bump on the ground—

That roof is almost invisible—

It's like decorating the cornices of the earth—

Since then—for centuries—

But it still feels shorter than that day,

My first guess is the horse's head

To the eternal land—