Any more foreign poetry?

Pushkin (Russian 1799--1837)

Frost and sunshine, what a wonderful day!

Flattering friend, but you sleep in peace.

It's time, beauty, to wake up!

Quickly open the sleeping eyes that have been closed with comfort.

Please come forth, as the Morning Star of the North,

to meet the Goddess of the Northern Sunset!

Last night, you remember, the wind and snow were swirling,

and the sinister sky was shrouded in a layer of gloom.

The moon, yellowing behind the dark clouds,

was like a pale speck in the night sky.

And you sit bored--

But now ...... ah, look out the window:

Under the azure sky, like a velvet blanket

Splendidly and dazzlingly spread over the wilderness.

A blanket of white snow glistened with sunlight,

only the transparent woods glowed darkly.

And the fir-tree branches glowed green through the white frost

: the frozen creek was crystal bright.

The whole apartment was illuminated

by the light of amber. There was a pleasant crackling sound

within the freshly-born fire.

It was a beautiful time to lie in bed and think.

However, shouldn't you call for the early

hitching of the brown horse to the sleigh!

Dear friend, let us glide through the early morning snow.

Let the fiery horses gallop,

Let us visit that open field.

The woods that not so long ago were luxuriant,

The banks of the river, how dear to me.

1829

Translated by Zha Liang Zheng

The Old Man Cao Shuhou Appreciation Pushkin was a great Russian poet in the 19th century, whose poems are diverse in form and rich in rhyme, with a beautiful, delicate, light and bright style.

Narcissus

Wordsworth (Eng. 1770--1850)

I roam alone! Like a cloud over the valley,

I look up and see a clump of

golden daffodils, colorful and dense;

By the shore of the lake, in the shade of the trees

Swinging in the wind, and dancing in style.

Continuous and dense like a starry night

In the Milky Way up and down the flickering bright and dusky,

This piece of daffodil, along the bay of the lake

Lined up into the continuation of the endless ranks;

A glance at a glimpse of ten thousand thousands of plants,

Shake trembled with a corolla, light and graceful dance.

The ripples on the surface of the lake also danced in the wind,

but the joy of the daffodils was better than that of the ripples;

with such delightful companions,

how could the poet not be refreshed!

I gazed for many a time without thinking

what treasures this beauty gave me.

From then on, whenever I was lying on my couch,

or depressed, or in a state of uncertainty,

Narcissus, in my mind's eye, flickered,

that was my paradise when I was alone;

My heart was overflowing with joy,

dancing with Narcissus. I will dance with the daffodils.

(Translated by Yang Deyu)

The Elderly Cao Shuhou Appreciation: Wordsworth is the main representative of the British "Lakeside School" of Romantic Poetry. His poems are mellow and simple. The poem "Narcissus" is simple and easy to understand, but it is full of poetic feelings.

(Tuesday, February 6, 2001)

The Bird cherry tree

Yesenin (Su 1895--1925)

The rich Bird cherry tree,

Opening with the spring,

Golden branches,

Growing like curls. grow like curls.

Honey-sweet dew,

dripping down the bark;

leaving pungent green trails,

glittering in silver.

Satin spikes of flowers

glistened under the dew,

like radiant earrings,

on the ears of a beautiful girl.

Where the remaining snow melted,

On the grass near the roots of the trees,

A silver stream,

Flowing merrily all the way.

The Bird cherry tree stretched out its branches,

emitting an enchanting fragrance,

with golden green traces,

reflecting the sun's rays.

The brook raised waves of broken jade,

splashed into the branches of the thickened plum tree,

and played the strings under the crags,

and sang fondly for her.

1915

(Translated by Liu Zhanqiu and Ru Xiangxue)

The Elderly Cao Shuhou Appreciation : He was a famous Soviet Russian poet. His poems are mainly based on the natural scenery of the countryside and have a strong influence.

The Tree at the Window

Frost (1874-1963)

The tree at my window, the tree at my window,

I close the window at nightfall;

But never draw the curtains,

Lest you and I be separated.

You are the shadow of a hazy dream that rises from the earth,

You flutter like a floating cloud,

All that your light leafy tongue proclaims in a loud voice,

Not all of it is emotional to the core.

But tree, I have seen the winds shake you.

If you had spied me sleeping in this house,

you would have seen me violently stirred,

almost swept away by the storm.

That day fate, out of its childishness,

linked us both together:

You were subject to the external climate,

and I to the turbulence of the storm within.

(Translated by Shun Zixin)

The Old Man Cao Shuhou Appreciation : Robert Frost, one of the most important American writers of the 20th century, is the author of The Old Man. Robert Frost is one of the most famous American poets of the 20th century. His poems are mainly about ranching and rural things, and his language is clear, simple, delicate and subtle. This poem is about the tree by the window, and the theme falls on the inner turmoil.

(Tuesday, February 20, 2001 )

The Wise Star

HEINE (DE 1797--1856)

Flowers are apt to touch men's feet,

and most of them are trodden down;

whether it is shy or bold,

people always trample it when they walk by.

Pearls are hidden in the treasure chests of the sea,

but they are also found,

drilled holes for them, and clasped,

firmly on top of the silken cord.

The stars are wise, and they have reason

to avoid us far from the world of men;

the stars hang above the canopy,

like the lamp of the world, and are always safe.

(Translated by Qian Chunqi)

Elder Cao Shuhou Appreciation Heine's poem is especially interesting: nature has been destroyed so much by human beings that even the grass and pearls are no longer safe, and only the stars hang high above the canopy, and human beings can't do anything about destroying it even if they want to. The poem is written in a very humorous way, and is a warning to mankind for destroying nature. The theme of this poem is not directly stated in the poem, leaving the reader to experience it for themselves. Poems like this one make the reader feel as if they are making their own discoveries and feel especially poetic.

(Tuesday, February 20, 2001 )

The Wise Star

HEINE (DE 1797--1856)

Flowers are apt to touch men's feet,

and most of them are trodden down;

whether it is shy or bold,

people always trample it when they walk by.

Pearls are hidden in the treasure chests of the sea,

but they are also found,

drilled holes for them, and clasped,

firmly on top of the silken cord.

The stars are wise, and they have reason

to avoid us far from the world of men;

the stars hang above the canopy,

like the lamp of the world, and are always safe.

(Translated by Qian Chunqi)

Forest

Wright (Australia 1915-)

When I first met this forest,

I was amazed by its flowers.

Their different shapes and faces,

changing with the seasons.

White violets studded with purple,

tiny sprigs of wild ginger,

small, solitary orchids on the ground,

made me mesmerized throughout the day.

And the thick fuchsia lilies,

the bright red petals on top of the phoenix tree,

and where the creek ran shallow,

the turquoise canopy of the Kongjewoy.

When I first knew this forest,

there was plenty of time to kill.

And there will never be an end to the harvest that time brings anew

Now all those vines and flowers of its,

are named and known,

like wishes long since fulfilled,

and the magical joys of the beginning are gone.

But I have further to seek,

Besides these flowers I have gathered,

there is yet to be named and known,

The one flower that never tones down ----

that which gives rise to the truth of all flowers.

(Translated by Zou Jiang)

The Elderly Cao Shuhou Appreciation The focus of the whole poem is in the last stanza, in which the poet has to search further for the reality that produces all flowers. What is the "truth of all flowers"? The poet does not say so, which gives the reader room to analyze and imagine--help the poet to imagine. The poet's description of the forest also achieves a certain level of art, so that the reader has a sense of beauty of the forest, and thus like the poem.

For Ionce

Shelley

You are lovely, infant, I love you so!

Your dimpled cheeks, your blue eyes,

your affectionate, soft, touching body,

To teach a heart of hate to love;

Sometimes, when you are going to sleep, you fall asleep at once, and your mother

bends down to hold you close to her waking heart, and all the stirring of your silent eyes

is felt by you.

is then imparted to thee the loving compassion of her joy;

and sometimes, as she clasped thee to her white breast,

I gazed deep into thy face, and her countenance

was hidden in thine. ---- At such a time,

thou wast the lovelier, the beautiful and slender bud;

and the shadow of thy mother's beauty was lent to thy tender demeanor

When fully presented, you are most most lovely!

(Translated by Tu Shi)

Evening Autumn Wanderings

Frost (1874-1963)

As I wander through the harvested fields,

I can see no crops, it is all empty,

it lies serene as a dewy cottage,

and the paths that lead to the gardens are deserted.

As I followed the path into the garden,

I heard among the broken tufts of withered grass

a mournful chorus of birdsong,

more stirring than any dirge.

There was a bare tree by the garden wall,

My lone leaf had long since withered,

it must have been disturbed by my thoughts,

and gently drifted down with a scraping sound.

I didn't go very far in the garden,

I picked a bunch of pale blue aster inside the broken leaves,

and rededicated it to you.

(Translated by Gu Zixin)

The Old Man Cao Shuhou Appreciation Frost is a famous American poet in the twentieth century. This poem is about the solemnity of autumn, and there is no life at all, so the poet saw a bouquet of pale blue aster, and hastened to pick it and dedicate it to the one who he wants to dedicate it to. Here, the poet celebrates life and light.

The Seasons of Man

Keats (Eng. 1795-1821)

There are four seasons that come and go in a year,

and there are springs, summers, autumns, and winters in a man's mind:

He has a vigorous spring, and lets his naive fancies

grasp in his hand all the good things of the world;

and in the summer he likes to To the sweet thoughts of those early spring

years carefully recollected,

wallowed in them, and such dreams brought him close

to the kingdom of heaven; and his soul in the fall

had quiet coves, when he gathered his wings

up, and he was very contented, at ease,

drunken-eyed, and letting the beautiful scene

be as beautiful as possible.

flow by like a stream before the door, and pay no attention to it;

he had winters, too, and was pale, and changed his countenance;

or else he went beyond the nature of man.

(Translated by Tu Shi)

The Old Man Cao Shuhou Appreciation Keats is a famous English romantic poet, this poem is a sonnet. In this poem, he compares the life of a man with the seasons of the year, and romantically explains the philosophy of a man's life: when he is young, he is vigorous, energetic, and has innocent fantasies; when he is in the prime of life, his career is smooth, and his dreams are close to his ideals; when he is in the middle age, he wants to rest, and gathers his wings together; in the old age, the laws of nature want him to die of old age. Keats' philosophies on the life of a man are his thoughts and experiences, which are 19th century concepts. To the current 21st century, we have to pay attention to two points: First, to the middle age can not want to rest, the middle age is the time of the officer, it is the time to realize the ideal; Second, young, can not just naive fantasy, but also foot in the country, the community, and efforts to do in order to be successful.

The Day in the Water

Hans Carossa (Eng. 1795-1821)

There was a dark pond in the pasture,

only a small alder casting shade on the bank;

I was in my childhood days.

It was a sultry spring day, the grass was yellowed and wild-eyed

The dragonflies nibbled the blades of grass,

I liked to lie down and lean over the bottom of the pond to take a look.

The pond is as deep as the sky.

Cloud-like objects floating across the water sky, gray, carved as distinct as oak blades,

one edge glowing blue!

The beautiful sun often emerges from the bottom of the pond,

not blinding, looking almost like a gentle

clump of the moon.

I suddenly thought, with green alder strips

Smash the sky in the water,----

And the big, white sun burst out in all directions,

Splash countless bright silver points of light,

Splash straight to the shore.

My heart pounded with fear; the dots,

countless bright silver dots, bobbed upward,

and the higher they went, the weaker the force,

and eventually turned back into a big sun.

(Translated by Houren Zhang)

The Unchosen Path

Robert Frost (American 1874-1963)

The yellow woods were divided into two paths

Unfortunately, I couldn't wade through them at the same time,

I stood there for a long time at that intersection,

and I stared toward one of them,

until it disappeared into the depths of the jungle. p>until it disappeared into the depths of the jungle.

But I chose the other path,

which was grassy and very quiet,

and appeared more inviting and beautiful;

although on both paths

there were few travelers' footprints left;

although the leaves had fallen all over the ground that morning,

and both paths were uncontaminated by footprints.

However, one path was left for another day!

But I know the path is endless,

and I'm afraid I won't be able to return.

Maybe many years from now, somewhere,

I will look back with a soft sigh:

There were two paths through the woods,

and I chose the one less traveled by people,

thus deciding the path of my life.

(Translated by Gu Zixin)

The Clear Stream

Juan Ramón Jiménez (Spain 1981--1958)

The clear stream is quiet

and charming; the canyon is quiet and secluded, and the scenery on both sides of the canyon is beautiful,

white is the poplar, and green is the willow.

---- The canyon is like an illusion,

and the heart is beating,

and the wonderful song is still heard in the dream,

and the flute is accompanied by the song. ----

The stream is charming: the willow branches

seem to be unawakened and greedy for sleep,

hanging upside down on the calm surface of the stream,

kissing the clear flowing water.

The sky is quiet and clear,

The dome of the sky hangs low, floating and fluttering,

The mists are colored like silver,

Whisking the waves on the water and the trees on the shore.

---- My heart dreamed of the

beautiful stream banks, secluded canyons,

all the way to the quiet shallows,

prepared to board the light boat for the long journey.

But, having just set foot on the mountain path,

It was impossible to stop the hot tears of longing from welling up:

though it was not known who was the singer who chanted.

(Wang Guorong)

The old man Cao Shuhou appreciated "Clear Stream" as a poem with scenery and feelings, the feelings are to stay in the beautiful homeland that will be left.

Music

Juan Ramón Jiménez (Spain 1981--1958)

There are quiet nights,

O pleasant music, you are a clear stream.

Cool and pleasant ----- as if that night fragrance,

Bloomed in an unfathomable vase ----- stars filled the sky.

The wind fled into its cave,

The terror returned to the cottage where it dwelt,

In the green thicket of the pine forest,

a life was rising vigorously.

The stars were fading,

the mountains were colored like roses,

and in the distance, by the orchard's well,

the swallows were singing.

(Wang Guorong)

The old man Cao Shuhou appreciated that the wind fled, and the terror hid, and a piece of vitality rose vigorously in the green thicket of the pine forest, which is the main tone of this poem. How vividly it is written!

Where

Heine (de 1797--1856)

Where will be the home where the weary traveler

will find his final rest?

Is it in the shade of a southern palm?

Is it under the linden tree on the Rhine?

Will I be buried by the hands of that stranger

in a desert somewhere?

Or shall I rest forever in the sand of

a great sea?

Either way! Surrounding me,

everywhere is always the firmament of God,

and at night the stars that hang above me,

are like oil lamps before the spirits.

(Qian Chunqi)

After the death of the old man Cao Shuhou appreciated Heine, his friends wrote this poem as his epitaph and carved it on his tombstone.

The Wild Swans of Cole Hall

Yeats (Eng. 1865----1939)

The woods were a scene of autumnal beauty,

The paths in the woods were dry,

The running water shrouded by the October twilight

Reflected the silent skies;

The surcharged streams were at intervals of stone,

Fifty-nine swans float.

It is the nineteenth fall since I first counted them,

and I find that the counting is not yet over,

Swooping up into the sky,

Loudly flapping their wings in circles,

outlining large, broken circles.

I have seen this glorious flock of swans,

and now it calls to me so painfully,

all changed, since the first time I was at the pool,

and it was also a twilight hour,

and I heard the sound of wings flapping above my head,

and I was light on my feet then.

Not yet jaded, a couple,

Marching amicably through the cold water,

Or soaring strenuously toward the sky,

They were still young at heart,

And it didn't matter where they went up to float,

There was always a passion and an ambition.

They float on the still waters,

how mysterious and beautiful!

One day they woke up and they had flown away,

in which reed thicket did they make their home?

Which poolside, which lakeside,

pleases the eyes of men?

1916

(Translated by Yuan Kejia)

The Elderly Cao Shuhou Appreciation Yeats was a famous English poet and playwright who was awarded the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1923. His poem is like a soft song about the beauty and freedom of swans. The poet realizes that the swans are gone: "One day they woke up and they had flown away." Where have they flown off to? Why did they fly away? Readers are invited to savor it!

Anxiety

Gavrila. Cestral (Chile 1889-1957)

I don't want

my daughter to become a swallow.

She will flutter in the sky

and never come back to me;

she will nest under the eaves,

and I will not be able to braid her hair.

I would not wish

my daughter to become a flying swallow.

I don't want

my daughter to become a princess.

How can she play and chase in the grass when she wears little shoes of gold

At night,

She can't sleep next to me ......

I don't want

my daughter to become a little princess.

More than that, I don't want

she to be a queen someday.

People embracing her on their thrones

is a place I can't go.

By night,

I can't shake her ......

I don't want

my daughter to be queen!

(Edited by Wang Guorong)

The old man Cao Shuhou appreciated the famous Chilean poetess, whose poems were highly lyrical and sincere, and was known as the "Queen of Lyric," and who became the first Latin American writer to be awarded the Nobel Prize in Literature in 1945. The poem "Anxiety" is about her hope, her hope of "not hope": she does not want her daughter to become a swallow, she does not want her daughter to become a princess, she does not want her daughter to become a queen, and the poem is full of the poet's hope which is different from that of ordinary people!

In the square of life

Vicente. Vicente Aleixandre. Melo (Spain 1898-1983)

Under the sun, in the midst of the crowd,

so beautiful, harmonious, trusting, energetic and deep,

wrapped up in the procession of the people, inspired by them,

marching joyfully along with the tide of the people.

Staying alone on the shore,

is not the best thing to do, it is too lonely,

like a weir or a mollusk imitating the rock with lime.

It is better to throw oneself purely and serenely into the

boiling bliss, to wallow and immerse.

He lived like a man in a tall building, but forgot what floor he lived on,

I watched him step down the stairs

and bravely threw himself into the crowd and drowned in it.

The crowd was moving, but the broken heart was still visible.

Where who still makes these distinctions? Just full of

hope, determination, nakedness, candor and faith,

he remained so silent and meek.

How wide the square was, with the breath of all things,

which met the rising sun in the east, wrapped in a strong wind.

This wind's hand swept over our heads,

it caressed people's foreheads and inspired them.

The crowd squirms, coils and contracts,

tightly, like a human being, not sure if it is strong or cowardly,

but it is there, perceptible, covering the earth.

In it, one can see oneself, ignite oneself, and recognize oneself.

Scorching midday, but you hide alone in the attic,

with curious eyes, questions at the corners of your mouth,

looking to yourself for a glimpse of yourself.

No need to look for yourself in the mirror,

The past is unbearable.

Come down from the attic, and seek in the crowd.

There will be everything there, and you dissolve into it.

Go ahead, go and melt yourself naked, to know yourself anew.

Fearful and hesitant as when you first learn to swim,

but hopeful, approach the water,

stretching out one foot first and kicking at the foam

it will be felt that the water rises, and so does your courage,

and at last you will make up your mind.

But now the water is less than waist high, and the confidence is not yet firm.

Put your arms out wide,

go fling yourself into the water,

show strength and bravery

swim forward and make waves, accompanied by joy and confidence.

Potentially in the water, let your heart beat with the waves,

Swimming and singing, doubly feeling young.

Yes, put bare feet,

Into the boiling life, into this square.

Step into the current that calls to you.

This small, damaged heart,

it beats with a rhythm

hoping to catch up with the giant heart of the crowd that beats in unison!

--from Destruction or Love (1932)

(edited by Wang Guorong)

The Elderly Cao Shuhou Appreciation Aleixandre was a famous Spanish poet who won the 1977 Nobel Prize for Literature. He wrote poems for decades, mainly about his view of life and the universe. It is very lyrical, but it also incorporates a surrealist approach. Some of the poems are not easy to understand, but this one, "In the Square of Life" is good and full of passion for loving life. The last three lines of the poem " This small damaged heart, its beating rhythm, hopes to catch up with the giant heart of the crowd that beats in unison! "The theme of the poem is clearly presented.

An old apple tree

Ivan. Alekseevich Bunin Bunin (Russia 1870 - 1953)

Covered with snowflakes, fluffy and fragrant,

Awesome, envious bees and wasps

Buzzing around you, making a pleasant noise ......

Dear old friend, are you growing old?

It is not unfortunate. Behold, who else has had such youthful and exuberant times as you

have had!

(Translated by Ulan Khan)

The old man Cao Shuhou appreciated that the poet was awarded the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1933. His poem contains two aspects: on the one hand, in terms of human age, the old man has his value envied by "bees and wasps". On the other hand, for a country or nation with a long culture, it will always be youthful and stand in the forest of the world's nations. This poem is an allegorical poem.

Promise to the stars

Gabriela Mistral (Gabriela Mistral) is a poet. Mistral (Gabriela mistral 1889--1957)

The stars have little eyes,

Hanging bright on black velvet,

You look down from above,

See if I am innocent?

The stars have little eyes,

They shine bright in the quiet sky,

You're on high,

Saying am I good?

The stars have little eyes,

and eyelashes that blink more than once,

Why do you have so many colors,

blue, red, and purple?

Curious little eyes,

Open all night long to stay awake,

Rose-colored dawns

Why do they blot you out?

The little eyes of the stars,

Spilling teardrops or dewdrops.

You shiver up there,

Is it the cold?

The little eyes of the stars,

I assure you:

You look at me,

I am always, always innocent.

(Translated by Wang Yongnian)

There are many poems in China and abroad in which the old man Cao Shuhou appreciates speaking to the stars. This poem assures the stars that "I am always, always innocent", which is a guarantee that the poet will always keep his heart pure. The poem is also written in a very plain and natural way, and the content of this poem is quite consistent with its form.

45 Answer: Princess of Dreams of Happiness - Level 3 2008-11-19 19:53

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