poems of Emily Dickinson
poems Emily_Dickinson重要_ppt
Because I Could Not Stop for Death
Stanza 1: Death, in the image of a kind gentleman, comes in a carriage for the sake of Immortality and me. Stanza 2: To show my politeness to death, I gave up my work and my enjoyment of life as well; I give up my life. Stanza 3: The journey of our carriage implies the experience of human life; school stands for childhood; the fields of gazing grain, for youth and adulthood; while the setting sun, for old age.
Features of Her Poems
1. subject matter ： love, nature, morality and immortality. The subjects of her poems range among descriptions of love and despair, joy and suffering, and thoughts of death and immortality.
Emily_Dickinson诗歌赏析
①I’m Nobody!我是无名之辈－Emily DickinsonI’m nobody! Who are you?我是无名之辈！你是谁？Are you nobody, too?你也是无名之辈吗？Then there’s a pair of us----don’t tell!那么我们就是一对儿了！千万不要透露出去They’d banish us, you know!不然我们都会被他们驱逐，你知道。
How dreary to be somebody!做一个某某，是多么沉闷无聊How public, like a frog众人像是青蛙To tell your name the livelong day整日地把你谈论啊To an admiring bog!对着他们倾慕的泥沼我是无名之辈艾米莉·狄金森我是无名之辈，你是谁？你，也是，无名之辈？这就凑成一双，别声张！你知道，他们会大肆张扬！做个，显要人物，好不无聊！像个青蛙，向仰慕的泥沼——在整个六月，把个人的姓名聒噪——何等招摇！This poem is Dickinson’s most famous and most defense of the kind of spiritual privacy she favored, implying that to be a Nobody is a luxury incomprehensible to a dreary somebody—for they are too busy keeping their names in circulation. But to be somebody is not as fancy as it seems to be.Emily DickinsonAs you probably noticed when you read this poem, none of the themes that I discussed in the Overview of Dickinson applies to this poem. My list was not meant to cover every topic Dickinson wrote on, nor does every poem she wrote fit neatly into a category.Dickinson adopts the persona of a child who is open, naive, and innocent. However, are the questions asked and the final statement made by this poem naive? If they are not, then the poem is ironic because of the discrepancy between the persona's understanding and view and those of Dickinson and the reader. Under the guise of the child's accepting society's values, is Dickinson really rejecting those values?Is Dickinson suggesting that the true somebody is really the "nobody"? The child-speaker welcomes the person who honestly identifies herself and who has a true identity. These qualities make that person "nobody" in society's eyes. To be "somebody" is to have status in society; society, the majority, excludes or rejects those who lack status or are "nobody"--that is, "they'd banish us" for being nobody.In stanza 2, the child-speaker rejects the role of "somebody" ("How dreary"). The frog comparison depicts "somebody" as self-important and constantly self-promoting. She also shows the false values of a society (the "admiring bog") which approves the frog-somebody. Does the word "bog" (it means wet, spongy ground) have positive or negative connotations? What qualities are associated with the sounds a frog makes (croaking)?Is there satire in this poem?Some readers, who are modest and self-effacing or who lack confidence, feel validated by this poem. Why?②To Make a Prairie…To make a prairieIt takes a clover and one bee,One clover and a bee,And revery.Revery alone will do,If bees are few.去造一个草原张祈试译去造一个草原需要一株三叶草和一只蜜蜂，一株三叶草和一只蜜蜂，还有梦。
艾米莉·狄金森《我为美而死》及诗歌中死亡意象
艾米莉·狄金森《我为美而死》及诗歌中死亡意象艾米莉·狄金森（EmilyDickinson，1830—1886），美国女诗人。
出生于律师家庭，青少年时代生活单调而平静，受正规宗教教育。
20岁开始写诗，早期的诗大都已散失。
从25岁起弃绝社交，女尼似的闭门不出，在孤独中埋头写诗30年，在文学史上被称为“阿默斯特的女尼”，留下诗稿1775首，生前只发表过7首，其余的都是在死后才出版，并被世人所知，名气极大。
狄更生的诗主要写生活情趣，自然、生命、信仰、友谊、爱情。
诗风凝练婉约、意向清新，描绘真切、精微，思想深沉、凝聚力强，极富独创性，被视为20世纪现代主义诗歌的先驱之一。
I Died for BeautyI died for beauty－－but was scarceAdjusted in the TombWhen one who died for Truth，was lainIn the adjoining Room－－He questioned softly“Why I failed?”“For beauty，”I replied－－“And I－－for Truth－－Themself are OneWe Brethren，are，”He said－－And so，as Kinsmen，met a Night－－We talked between the Rooms－－Until the Moss had reached our lips－－And covered up－－our names－－我为美而死去我为美而死——对坟墓几乎，还不适应一个殉真理的烈士就成了我的近邻——他轻声问我“为什么倒下？”我回答他：“为了美”——他说：“我为真理，真与美——是一体，我们是兄弟”——就这样，像亲人，黑夜相逢——我们，隔着房间谈心——直到苍苔长上我们的嘴唇——覆盖掉，我们的姓名——《我为美而死》是女诗人对美与真理关系进行探讨的一首诗。
Emily Dickinson的短诗
Emily Dickinson’s poetry1Because I could not stop for Death,He kindly stopped for me;The carriage held but just ourselvesAnd Immortality.We slowly drove, he knew no haste,And I had put awayMy labor, and my leisure too,For his civility.We passed the school where children played,Their lessons scarcely done;We passed the fields of gazing grain,We passed the setting sun.We paused before a house that seemedA swelling of the ground;The roof was scarcely visible.The cornice but a mound.Since then 'tis centuries but eachFeels shorter than the dayI first surmised the horses' headsWere toward eternity.2Bustle In A House~The bustle in a houseThe morning after deathIs solemnest of industriesEnacted upon earth.The sweeping up the heartAnd putting love awayWe shall not want to use againUntil eternity.3"Hope" is the thing with feathersThat perches in the soulAnd sings the tune without the wordsAnd never stops at all,And sweetest in the gale is heard;And sore must be the stormThat could abash the little birdThat kept so many warm.I've heard it in the chillest landAnd on the strangest sea,Yet never, in extremity,It asked a crumb of me.4"Faith" is a fine inventionFor gentlemen who see,But Microscopes are prudentIn an emergency!5’T is so much joy! ’T is so much joy!If I should fail, what poverty!And yet, as poor as IHave ventured all upon a throw;Have gained! Yes! Hesitated soThis side the victory!Life is but life, and death but death!Bliss is but bliss, and breath but breath!And if, indeed, I fail,At least to know the worst is sweet.Defeat means nothing but defeat,No drearier can prevail!And if I gain,—oh, gun at sea,Oh, bells that in the steeples be,At first repeat it slow!For heaven is a different thingConjectured, and waked sudden in,And might o’erwhelm me so!6It was not death, for I stood up,And all the dead lie down.It was not night, for all the bellsPut out their tongues for noon.It was not frost, for on my fleshI felt siroccos crawl,Nor fire, for just my marble feetCould keep a chancel cool.And yet it tasted like them all,The figures I have seenSet orderly for burialReminded me of mine,As if my life were shavenAnd fitted to a frameAnd could not breathe without a key,And 'twas like midnight, some,When everything that ticked has stoppedAnd space stares all around,Or grisly frosts, first autumn morns,Repeal the beating ground;But most like chaos, stopless, cool,Without a chance, or spar,Or even a report of landTo justify despair.7Success is counted sweetestBy those who ne’er succeed.To comprehend a nectarRequires sorest need.Not one of all the purple hostWho took the flag to-dayCan tell the definition,So clear, of victory,As he, defeated, dying,On whose forbidden earThe distant strains of triumphBreak, agonized and clear8IF I can stop one heart from breaking,I shall not live in vain;If I can ease one life the aching,Or cool one pain,Or help one fainting robinUnto his nest again,I shall not live in vain.9Much madness is divinest senseTo a discerning eye;Much sense the starkest madness.’T i s the majorityIn this, as all, prevails.Assent, and you are sane;Demur,—you ’re straightway dangerous,And handled with a chain.10A wounded deer leaps highest,I've heard the hunter tell;T'is but the ecstasy of death,And then the brake is still.The smitten rock that gushes,The trampled steel that springs:A cheek is always redderJust where the hectic stings!Mirth is the mail of anguish,In which it caution arm,Lest anybody spy the bloodAnd Youre hurt exclaim!11A PRECIOUS, mould eringpleasure ’t isTo meet an antique book,In just the dress his century wore;A privilege, I think,His venerable hand to take,And warming in our own,A passage back, or two, to makeo times when he was young.His quaint opinions to inspect,His knowledge to unfoldOn what concerns our mutual mind,The literature of old;What interested scholars most,What competitions ranWhen Plato was a certainty,And Sophocles a man;When Sappho was a living girl,And Beatrice woreThe gown that Dante deified.Facts, centuries before,He traverses familiar,As one should come to townAnd tell you all your dreams were true:He lived where dreams were born.His presence is enchantment,You beg him not to go;Old volumes shake their vellum headsAnd tantalize, just so.12I felt a funeral in my brain,And mourners, to and fro,Kept treading, treading, till it seemedThat sense was breaking through.And when they all were seated,A service like a drumKept beating, beating, till I thoughtMy mind was going numb.And then I heard them lift a box,And creak across my soulWith those same boots of lead, again.Then space began to tollAs all the heavens were a bell,And Being but an ear,And I and silence some strange race,Wrecked, solitary, here.- Emily Dickinson13There is no frigate like a bookTo take us lands away,Nor any coursers like a pageOf prancing poetry.This traverse may the poorest takeWithout oppress of toll;How frugal is the chariotThat bears a human soul!14XVITO fight aloud is very brave,But gallanter, I know,Who charge within the bosom,The cavalry of woe.Who win, and nations do not see,Who fall, and none observe,Whose dying eyes no countryRegards with patriot love.We trust, in plumed procession,For such the angels go,Rank after rank, with even feetAnd uniforms of snow.15I taste a liquor never brewed,From tankards scooped in pearl;Not all the vats upon the RhineYield such an alcohol!Inebriate of air am I,And debauchee of dew,Reeling, through endless summer days,From inns of molten blue.When landlords turn the drunken beeOut of the foxglove's door,When butterflies renounce their drams,I shall but drink the more!Till seraphs swing their snowy hats,And saints to windows run,To see the little tipplerLeaning against the sun!16Who never lost, are unpreparedA Coronet to find!Who never thirstedFlagons, and Cooling Tamarind!Who never climbed the weary league—Can such a foot exploreThe purple territoriesOn Pizarro's shore?How many Legions overcome—The Emperor will say?How many Colors takenOn Revolution Day?How many Bullets bearest?Hast Thou the Royal scar?Angels! Write "Promoted"On this Soldier's brow!17Dare you see a Soul at the White Heat?Then crouch within the door --Red -- is the Fire's common tint --But when the vivid OreHas vanquished Flame's conditions,It quivers from the ForgeWithout a color, but the lightOf unanointed Blaze.Least Village has its BlacksmithWhose Anvil's even ringStands symbol for the finer ForgeThat soundless tugs -- within --Refining these impatient OresWith Hammer, and with BlazeUntil the Designated LightRepudiate the Forge –18I can wade Grief—Whole Pools of it—I'm used to that—But the least push of JoyBreaks up my feet—And I tip—drunken—Let no Pebble—smile—'Twas the New Liquor—That was all!Power is only Pain—Stranded, thro' Discipline,Till Weights—will hang—Give Balm—to Giants—And they'll wilt, like Men—Give Himmaleh—They'll Carry—Him!19For each ecstatic instantWe must an anguish payIn keen and quivering rationTo the ecstasy.For each beloved hourSharp pittances of years—Bitter contested farthings—And Coffers heaped with Tears!20The only news I knowIs bulletins all dayFrom immortality:The only shows I seeTomorrow and today.Perchance eternity.The only one I meetIs God, the only streetExistence; this traversed.If other news there beOr admirabler show,I’ll tell it you.21Wild nights! Wild nights!Were I with thee,Wild nights should beOur luxury!Futile the windsTo a heart in port,Done with the compass,Done with the chart.Rowing in Eden!Ah! the sea!Might I but moorTo-night in thee!22My life closed twice before its close;It yet remains to seeIf Immortality unveilA third event to me,So huge, so hopeless to conceive,As these that twice befell.Parting is all we know of heaven,And all we need of hell23Empty my Heart, of Thee --Its single Artery --Begin, and leave Thee out --Simply Extinction's Date --Much Billow hath the Sea --One Baltic -- They --Subtract Thyself, in play,And not enough of meIs left -- to put away --"Myself" meanth Thee --Erase the Root -- no Tree --Thee -- then -- no me --The Heavens stripped --Eternity's vast pocket, picked --24I know that He exists.Somewhere -- in Silence --He has hid his rare lifeFrom our gross eyes.'Tis an instant's play.'Tis a fond Ambush --Just to make BlissEarn her own surprise!But -- should the playProve piercing earnest --Should the glee -- glaze --In Death's -- stiff -- stare --Would not the funLook too expensive!Would not the jest --Have crawled too far!25Behind Me -- dips Eternity --Before Me -- Immortality --Myself -- the Term between --Death but the Drift of Eastern Gray,Dissolving into Dawn away,Before the West begin --'Tis Kingdoms -- afterward -- they say --In perfect -- pauseless Monarchy --Whose Prince -- is Son of None --Himself -- His Dateless Dynasty --Himself -- Himself diversify --In Duplicate divine --'Tis Miracle before Me -- then --'Tis Miracle behind -- between --A Crescent in the Sea --With Midnight to the North of Her --And Midnight to the South of Her --And Maelstrom -- in the Sky --26Let Us play Yesterday --I -- the Girl at school --You -- and Eternity -- theUntold Tale --Easing my famineAt my Lexicon --Logarithm -- had I -- for Drink --'Twas a dry Wine --Somewhat different -- must be --Dreams tint the Sleep --Cunning Reds of MorningMake the Blind -- leap --Still at the Egg-life --Chafing the Shell --When you troubled the Ellipse --And the Bird fell --Manacles be dim -- they say --To the new Free --Liberty -- Commoner --Never could -- to me --'Twas my last gratitudeWhen I slept -- at night --'Twas the first MiracleLet in -- with Light --Can the Lark resume the Shell --Easier -- for the Sky --Wouldn't Bonds hurt moreThan Yesterday?Wouldn't Dungeons sorer frateOn the Man -- free --Just long enough to taste --Then -- doomed new --God of the ManacleAs of the Free --Take not my LibertyAway from Me --27I died for beauty, but was scarceAdjusted in the tomb,When one who died for truth was lainIn an adjoining room.He questioned softly why I failed?"For beauty," I replied."And I for truth,--the two are one;We brethren are," he said.And so, as kinsmen met a night,We talked between the rooms.Until the moss had reached our lips,And covered up our names.28I SHALL know why, when time is over,And I have ceased to wonder why;Christ will explain each separate anguishIn the fair schoolroom of the sky.He will tell me what Peter promised,And I, for wonder at his woe,I shall forget the drop of anguishThat scalds me now, that scalds me now.29I shall keep singing!I shall keep singing!Birds will pass meOn their way to Yellower Climes --Each -- with a Robin's expectation --I -- with my Redbreast --And my Rhymes --Late -- when I take my place in summer --But -- I shall bring a fuller tune --Vespers -- are sweeter than Matins -- Signor --Morning -- only the seed of Noon --30LET down the bars, O Death!The tired flocks come inWhose bleating ceases to repeat,Whose wandering is done.Thine is the stillest night,Thine the securest fold;Too near thou art for seeking thee,Too tender to be told.31GOING to heaven!I don’t know when,Pray do not ask me how,—Indeed, I ’m too astonishedTo think of answering you!Going to heaven!—How dim it sounds!And yet it will be doneAs sure as flocks go home at nightUnto the shepherd’s arm!Perhaps you ’re going too!Who knows?If you should get there first,Save just a little place for meClose to the two I lost!The smallest “robe” will fit me,And just a bit of “crown”;For you know we do not mind our dressWhen we are going home.I ’m glad I don’t believe it,For it would stop my breath,And I ’d like to look a little moreAt such a curious earth!I am glad they did believe itWhom I have never foundSince the mighty autumn afternoonI left them in the ground.32I READ my sentence steadily,Reviewed it with my eyes,To see that I made no mistakeIn its extremest clause,—The date, and manner of the shame;And then the pious formThat “God have mercy” on the soulThe jury voted him.I made my soul familiarWith her extremity,That at the last it should not beA novel agony,But she and Death, acquainted,Meet tranquilly as friends,Salute and pass without a hintAnd there the matter ends.33THEY dropped like flakes, they dropped like stars,Like petals from a rose,When suddenly across the JuneA wind with fingers goes.They perished in the seamless grass,No eye could find the place;But God on his repealless listCan summon every face.。
狄金森Emily Dickinson重要作品介绍
我们隔墙倾谈 Until the moss had reached our lips,
直到苍苔爬上我们的唇际
And covered up our names. 掩没掉我们的姓名。
——艾米丽·狄金森
"Beauty is Truth, Truth Beauty”
“Death as just a part of life, which is the eternal life”
The Poetry of Emily Dickinson read by
Laura Lee Parrotti In RealAudio
poems of Emily Dickinson
·《因为我不能等待死神》 Because I Could Not Stop for Death ·《我是无名小卒！你是谁！》
I'm Nobody. Who Are You？
·《这是我给世界的一封信》 This is My Letter to the World ·《我死时听到一只苍蝇叫》 I Heard a Fly Buzz When I Died ·《我为美而死》 I Died for Beauty
• Poetry books: Poems, Series 1 Poems, Series 2 Poems, Series 3
Theme：
Religion & Faith
Life & Death Beauty & Truth Love & Marriage Nature Friendship Time & Eternity
Emily Dickinson’s poems
Emily Dickinson’s poems712Because I could not stop for Death—He kindly stopped for me—The Carriage held but just Ourselves—And Immortality.We slowly drove—He knew no hasteAnd I had put awayMy labor and my leisure too,For His Civility—We passed the School, where Children strove At Recess—in the Ring—We passed the fields of Gazing Grain—We passed the Setting Sun—Or rather—He passed Us—The Dews drew quivering and chill—For only Gossamer, my Gown—My Tippet—only Tulle—We paused before a House that seemedA Swelling of the Ground—The Roof was scarcely visible—The Cornice—in the Ground—Since then—'tis Centuries—and yetFeels shorter than the DayI first surmised the Horses' HeadsWere toward Eternity—241I like a look of Agony,Because I know it’s true —Men do not sham Convulsion.Nor simulate, a Throe —The Eyes glaze once —and that is Death —Impossible to feignThe Beads upon the ForeheadBy homely Anguish strung. 449I died for Beauty —but was scarce Adjusted in the TombWhen One who died for Truth, was lainIn an adjoining Room —He questioned softly ―Why I failed‖?―For Beauty,‖ I replied —―And I —for Truth —Themselves are One —We Brethren, are,‖ He said —And so, as Kinsmen, met a Night —We talked between the Rooms —Until the Moss had reached our lips —And covered up —our names —465I heard a Fly buzz -- when I died –The Stillness in the RoomWas like the Stillness in the Air –Between the Heaves of Storm –The Eyes around -- had wrung them dry –And Breaths were gathering firmFor that last Onset -- when the KingBe witnessed -- in the Room –I willed my Keepsakes--Signed awayWhat portion of me beAssignable -- and then it wasThere interposed a Fly –With Blue -- uncertain stumbling Buzz –Between the light -- and me –And then the Windows failed -- and thenI could not see to see –。
狄金森Emily_Dickinson重要作品介绍
Emily Dickinson（1830~1886）Poetic Period•more than 1775 poems through out her life.•Best work（climax）was written in the four years period(1858 -1862 ).•Poetry books:Poems, Series 1Poems, Series 2Poems, Series 3Theme ：Religion & Faith Life & Death Beauty & Truth Love & Marriage Nature Friendship Time & Eternityfeatures of Dickinson’s writing1. stanza form2. rhyme3. imagery and Figurativelanguage4. pause5. shortPoetry of Emily Dickinson(1955)《艾米莉·狄金森诗集》poems of Emily Dickinson ·《因为我不能等待死神》Because I Could Not Stop for Death·《我是无名小卒！你是谁！》I'm Nobody. Who Are You？·《这是我给世界的一封信》This is My Letter to the World·《我死时听到一只苍蝇叫》I Heard a Fly Buzz When I Died·《我为美而死》I Died for BeautyI Died for Beauty我为美而死I died for beauty but was scarce我为美而死，却还不曾Adjusted in the tomb,在墓中安息，When one who died for truth was lain 又来了一位为真理而死的人In an a djoining room.栖身在我的隔壁。
诗文本狄金森的名诗
诗文本狄金森的名诗|诗文本|狄金森的名诗佚名翻译艾米莉·狄金森(Emily Dickinson)(1830～1886) ，为美国隐士女诗人，生前写过一千七百多首令人耳目一新的短诗，却不为人知，死后名声大噪。
她诗风独特，以文字细腻、观察敏锐、意象突出著称。
题材方面多半是自然、死亡、和永生。
艾米莉·狄金森(1830-1892)生前默默无闻，只公开发表10首诗，还有一说是7首，不管怎样，她生前发表的不到她诗作的(现存她诗作1775篇)百分之一。
然而现在她被推崇为与惠特曼齐名的美国一流诗人，并且被20世纪美国意象派诗人视为先驱，开创了20世纪现代主义诗歌的先河。
布鲁姆在《西方正典》中这样评价狄金森在文学史上的地位：“除了莎士比亚，狄金森是但丁以来西方诗人中显示了最多认知原创性的作家。
”在纽约圣约翰教堂的诗人角，美国人献给狄金森的铭文是：“啊，杰出的艾米莉·狄金森!”即使在日常生活中，她也是默默无闻的。
她25岁开始便弃绝社交，足不出户，家务劳动之余埋头写诗。
30岁之后，这种倾向越来越严重，患了“自闭症”。
她喜欢穿白色的衣服，她不愿接待大多数来访的客人，甚至不到隔壁的哥哥家去拜访，她被称为“艾默斯特修女”。
以至于当希金森来访，她不知道说什么，话语断断续续，像孩子一样。
她是一个十足的家庭妇女，她是父亲的面包师，是她缠绵病榻母亲的护士。
有诗为证，她写道：“如果你能在秋季来到，／我会用掸子把夏天掸掉／一半轻蔑，一半含笑，／像管家妇把苍蝇赶跑。
”(江枫译，下同)这个比喻显然来自她平日的家庭劳动。
据其他文章介绍，她当时只不过是镇上一名没有任何名气的独身女子。
一封寄给“狄金森小姐”的信要辗转送到几个狄金森小姐之手，发现都不是写给她们的之后，邮政局长才让人把信交给艾米莉，并且嘱咐说如果不是写给她的，请立即退还。
她甚至写诗《我是无名之辈，你是谁》，在他们中间寻求知音。
1862年，她32岁(这一年也是她创作欲最旺盛的一年，她写了366首诗)，艾米莉从《大西洋月刊》杂志上读到希金森(1823-1911)的一篇文章，在文中他阐明：“发掘天才是编辑的天职”等观点，并教导青年作家“将生命的热情注入写作风格……让多年的热情溶入一个词汇中，把半辈子的生活积蓄写在一个句子里。
艾米莉·狄金森（EmilyDickinson）译诗20首（中英文）
艾米莉·狄金森（EmilyDickinson）译诗20首（中英文）艾米莉·狄金森(Emily Dickinson)(1830～1886)美国隐士女诗人，写过一千七百多首令人耳目一新的短诗。
诗风独特，以文字细腻、观察敏锐、意象突出著称。
题材方面多半是自然、死亡、和永生。
我从未看过荒原我从未看过荒原--我从未看过海洋--可我知道石楠的容貌和狂涛巨浪。
我从未与上帝交谈也不曾拜访过天堂--可我好像已通过检查一定会到那个地方。
I never saw a moorI never saw a Moor--I never saw the Sea--Yet know I how the Heather looksAnd what a Billow be.I never spoke with GodNor visited in Heaven--Yet certain am I of the spot As if the Checks were given--云暗天低又复云暗，飞过雪花一片。
穿越车辙马圈，去留择决艰难。
谁人这样待风，令其整天抱怨。
自然犹如我等，时常没戴皇冠。
BecloudedTHE sky is low, the clouds are mean, A travelling flake of snow Across a barn or through a rut Debates if it will go.A narrow wind complains all day How some one treated him; Nature, like us, is sometimes caught Without her diadem.我是无名之辈! 你是谁? (260)我是无名之辈! 你是谁?你也是无名之辈吗?那么我们为一对!别说! 他们会传开去-- 你知道!多无聊-- 是-- 某某名人!多招摇-- 象个青蛙—告诉你的名字-- 漫长的六月—给一片赞赏的沼泽!I'M Nobody! Who are you?I'M Nobody! Who are you?Are you--Nobody--too?Then there's a pair of us!Dont tell! they'd advertise--you know! How dreary--to be--Somebody!How public--like a Frog--To tell your name--the livelong June-- To an admiring Bog!" 信念" 是个微妙的发明" 信念" 是个微妙的发明当绅士们能看见的时候—但显微镜却是谨慎的在紧急的时候。
emily dickinson生命主题的诗歌
emily dickinson生命主题的诗歌哇塞，Emily Dickinson 的诗歌啊，那可真是太独特、太有魅力啦！
她的诗就像是一个个神秘的小盒子，你永远不知道打开后会发现什么奇妙的东西。
比如说那首，哎呀呀，那简直就是对生命和死亡的一次奇妙探索！就好像我们在人生的道路上走着走着，突然死神就冒出来了，说要带我们去另一段旅程。
还有，这诗就像是在告诉我们，生命中对美的追求是多么重要呀！这不就跟我们追求自己喜欢的东西一样嘛，为了它可以不顾一切。
Emily Dickinson 用她那简洁而又深刻的语言，把生命中的各种情感和思考都表达得淋漓尽致。
这就好比她是一个超级厉害的画家，用她的诗句当作画笔，在我们的心里画出了一幅幅让人难以忘怀的画面。
她诗歌里的生命主题，有时让你感到温暖，有时又让你觉得有些忧伤。
这不就跟我们的生活一样嘛，有开心的时候，也有难过的时候。
“希望是个有羽毛的东西”，这句话多形象啊，让我们对希望充满了想象。
我觉得 Emily Dickinson 的诗歌就像是一杯陈酿的美酒，越品越有味道。
她让我们对生命有了更深的思考，让我们更加珍惜我们所拥有的一切。
她的诗就是那个能触动我们内心最柔软地方的神奇存在呀！
总之，Emily Dickinson 的生命主题诗歌真的是太精彩啦！值得我们反复去品味，去感受其中的魅力！。
emily dickinson关于生命主题的英文诗歌
emily dickinson关于生命主题的英文诗歌Emily Dickinson's Poems on the Theme of LifeOh, Emily Dickinson! Her poems about life are like little gems hidden in the vast literary treasure chest. You know, when we talk about life, it's such a big and complex thing, right? It's like a huge, ever - changing jigsaw puzzle. And Dickinson, she had this amazing way of looking at life and putting it into words.Take her poem "Because I could not stop for Death". In this poem, she personifies Death as a gentleman caller. It's as if Death is just another character in the story of life. She says, "He kindly stopped for me". Can you imagine that? Death being kind? It makes you think about death in a whole new way. It's not this scary, menacing thing all the time. It's like she's having a conversation with Death, just like you would have a chat with an old acquaintance. And through this, she's also exploring the journey of life towards its end.Another poem of hers, "I Heard a Fly Buzz - When I Died". Now, this is really something. Here, she focuses on the moment of death.A fly, of all things! It's so unexpected. It's like she's saying that inthe grand moment of life's end, it could be something as small and ordinary as a fly that catches your attention. It shows how life can be filled with the ordinary, even at the most extraordinary moments.Dickinson also wrote about the vitality and mystery of life. In some of her works, she compares life to a wild, untamed force. It's like a storm that can be both beautiful and terrifying. She makes you feel the power of life, the way it can sweep you up and carry you along. For example, when she describes the energy of nature, it's as if nature is a living, breathing entity that is a part of life itself.I think Dickinson's poems on life are not just words on a page. They're like a mirror that reflects different aspects of life. They make us question our own understanding of life. Are we really living it to the fullest? Are we aware of all the little details and the big, overarching themes? Her poems are like a friend whispering in your ear, asking you these deep questions.In conclusion, Emily Dickinson's poems on the theme of life are truly remarkable. They offer a unique perspective on life that makes us think, feel, and question. They are a testament to herdeep understanding of the complex and beautiful thing that is life.。
emilydickinson的诗
emilydickinson的诗Emily Dickinson's Poetry: A Glance into Her SoulEmily Dickinson is one of America's greatest poets, yet during her lifetime, only a few of her works were published. Dickinson's poems are known for her unique style and their exploration of themes such as death, immortality, spirituality, and nature. Her poems are characterized by their distinct form and syntactical complexity, often using dashes and unconventional capitalization to create a sense of breathlessness and urgency.One of her most famous poems, "Because I could not stop for Death", explores the theme of mortality. In the poem, Dickinson personifies death as a gentleman caller who takes her on a carriage ride through various stages of life, until they finally arrive at her final resting place. This poem showcases Dickinson's fascination with death – a recurring motif in her poetry.Another one of Dickinson's well-known poems is "Hope is the thing with feathers". This poem metaphorically compares hope to a bird that resides in the human soul, constantly singing and giving us strength. Dickinson's use of metaphor and imagery in this poem is a testament to her skill as a poet.Dickinson's poetry was heavily influenced by her personal experiences and beliefs. She was a deeply religious person who often questioned the nature of God and the afterlife. Her poetry frequently reflects her doubts and existential questions, as in the poem "I felt a funeral in my brain", where she describes the feeling of being overwhelmed by grief and the fear of notknowing what comes after death.One of the things that sets Dickinson's poetry apart is her use of slant rhyme and unconventional syntax. Her poems often follow a strict meter but are constructed in a way that defies the reader's expectations. This technique, along with her frequent use of dashes and capitalization, gives her work a unique musical quality.Dickinson's work has been the subject of much analysis and interpretation over the years. Her poetry has been read as an exploration of the human psyche, a critique of societal norms, and a commentary on the nature of reality. However, despite the countless interpretations and analyses, Dickinson's poetry remains as enigmatic and mysterious as she was in life.In conclusion, Emily Dickinson's poetry is a testament to her skill as a poet and her complicated inner world. Her unique style and exploration of themes such as death and religion make her a significant figure in American poetry. Dickinson's work continues to fascinate and inspire readers even today, over a century after her death.。
艾米莉狄金森诗歌中的死亡和永恒主题
艾米莉狄金森诗歌中的死亡和永恒主题Death and eternity themes in Emily Dickinson’s poemsAbstract: Death and eternity are the major themes in most of Emily Dickinson’s poems. “Because I could not stop for death” is one of her classic poems. Through the analysis, this essay clarifies infinite conceptions by the dialectical relationship between reality and imagination, the known and the unknown. And it tells what’s eternity in Dickson’s eyes.Keywords: death, eternity, finite, infiniteIntroductionEmily Dickinson（1830-1886）, the American best-known female poet ，was one of the foremost authors in American literature. Emily Dickinson’s poems, as well as Walt Whitman’s, were considered as a part of "American renaissance"; they were regarded as pioneers of imagism. Both of them rejected custom and received wisdom and experimented with poetic style. She however differs from Whitman in a variety of ways. For one thing, Whitman seems to keep his eye on society at large; Dickinson explores the inner life of the individual. Whereas Whitman is "national" in his outlook, Dickinson is "regional"Emily Dickinson was born in Amherst, Massachusetts, on December 10,1830. She lived almost her entire life in the same town (much of it in the same house), traveled infrequently, never married, and in her last years never left the grounds of her family. So she was called "vestal of Amherst". And yet despite this narrow -- some might say -- pathologically constricted-outward experience, she was an extremely intelligent, highly sensitive, and deeply passionate person who throughout her adult life wrote poems (add up to around 2000) that were startlingly original inboth content and technique, poems that would profoundly influence several generations of American poets and that would win her a secure position as one of the greatest poets that America has ever produced. Dickin son’s simply constructed yet intensely felt, acutely intellectual writings take as their subject issues vital to humanity: the agonies and ecstasies of love, sexuality, the unfathomable nature of death, the horrors of war, God and religious belief, the importance of humor, and musings on the significance of literature, music, and art.Emily Dickinson enjoys the King James Version of the Bible, as well as authors such as English WRTERS William Shakespeare, John Milton, Charles Dickens, Elizabeth Barrett Browning, George Eliot, and Thomas Carlyle. Dickinson’s early styl e shows the strong influence of William Shakespeare, Barrett Browning, Scottish poet Robert Browning, and English poets John Keats and George Herbert. And Dickinson read Emerson appreciatively, who became a pervasive and, in a sense, formative influence over her. As George F. Whicher notes, "Her sole function was to test the Transcendentalist ethic in its application to the inner life".1、“death” in Emily Dickinson’s poetsFor as long as history has been recorded and probably for much longer, man has always been different idea of his own death. Even those of us who have accepted death graciously, have at least in some way, --- feared, dreaded, or attempted to delay its arrival. We have personified death-- as an evildoer dressed in all black, its presence swoops down upon us and chokes the life from us as though it were some street murder with malicious intent. But in reality, we know that death is not the chaotic grim reaper of fairy tales and mythology. Rather than being a cruel and unfair prankster of evil, death is an unavoidableand natural part of life itself.Death and immorality is the major theme in the largest portion of Emily Dickinson’s poetry. Her preoccupation with these subjects amounted to an obsession so that about one third of her poems dwell on them. Dickinson’s many friends died before her, and the fact that death seemed to occuroften in the Amherst of the time added to her gloomy meditation. Dickinson’s is not sheer depiction of death, but an emphatic one of relations between life and death, death and love, death and eternity. Death is a must-be-crossed bridge. She did not fear it, because the arrival in another world is only through the grave and the forgiveness from God is the only way to eternity.。
我最喜欢的诗人以及他的诗歌英语作文
我最喜欢的诗人以及他的诗歌英语作文My Favorite Poet and His PoemsPoetry has always held a special place in my heart, allowing me to escape into a world of beauty, emotions, and imagination. Among the many poets that I have encountered, there is one that stands out as my favorite - Emily Dickinson.Emily Dickinson was an American poet who lived in the 19th century and is known for her unique writing style and profound insights into life, nature, and the human experience. Her poems are characterized by their brevity, unconventional punctuation, and rich symbolism, and have had a lasting impact on the world of literature.One of the reasons why I admire Emily Dickinson so much is her ability to capture the complexities of human emotions in such a concise and powerful way. Her poems often explore themes of love, death, nature, and spirituality, and resonate with readers on a deep and personal level. One of my favorite poems by Emily Dickinson is "Hope is the thing with feathers", which beautifully conveys the idea that hope is a constant presence in our lives, guiding us through difficult times.Another aspect of Emily Dickinson's poetry that I appreciate is her keen observation of the natural world. In many of her poems, she explores the beauty and mystery of nature, drawing parallels between the natural world and the human experience. Her use of vivid imagery and sensory language creates a sense of awe and wonder in the reader, inviting us to see the world in a new light.In addition to her talent for writing poetry, Emily Dickinson's life story also fascinates me. Despite living a reclusive and solitary life, she was able to find inspiration and creativity in her own surroundings, producing hundreds of poems that would later become timeless classics. Her dedication to her craft and unwavering commitment to her art serve as a source of inspiration for me, reminding me to stay true to my own creative aspirations.Overall, Emily Dickinson's poetry has had a profound impact on me, inspiring me to look at the world with fresh eyes and to embrace the beauty and wonder that surrounds us. Her words have the power to uplift, comfort, and challenge me, and I am grateful for the opportunity to immerse myself in her timeless works. As I continue to explore the world of poetry, EmilyDickinson will always hold a special place in my heart as my favorite poet.。
【经典荐读】艾米丽·狄金森诗十首
【经典荐读】艾米丽·狄金森诗十首艾米莉·狄金森，是我一直以来就特别喜欢的女诗人。
手中的一本《艾米莉·狄金森诗选》，不知翻阅了多少遍了，以至于每一次打开阅读，就感觉，这首诗好熟悉，那首诗也好熟悉。
艾米丽·狄金森是美国著名女诗人，她在生前默默无闻，诗歌很少发表，当然，更没有获得什么奖。
从25岁开始，艾米莉·狄金森就弃绝社交，足不逾户，她勤勤恳恳地做家务，是父亲的“专职面包师”。
在家务劳动之余，艾米莉·狄金森阅读了大量的书籍，并且埋头写诗，偶尔，也会和一两位诗人保持着通信联系。
艾米莉·狄金森创作量可谓不小，埋头写诗三十年，留下一千八百多首诗歌。
艾米莉·狄金森一生没有婚嫁，独身终老，有“埃默斯特修女”之称。
也许因此，她的诗歌自成一格，风采独具，在诗坛上独放异彩。
虽然艾米莉·狄金森生前没有什么名气，去世后却享誉世界，被视为二十世纪现代主义诗歌的先驱之一。
这里精选艾米莉·狄金森的诗歌十首，与大家分享，供大家欣赏。
《要造就一片草原》要造就一片草原,只需要一株苜蓿,一只蜂,一株苜蓿,一只蜂,再加上白日梦。
有白日梦也就够了, 如果找不到蜂。
《我没有时间憎恨》我没有时间憎恨，因为坟墓会将我阻止，而生命并非如此简单能使我敌意终止。
我也没时间去爱，仅因为必须有点勤奋，我以为爱的那少许辛苦对我已是足够莫大难忍。
《没有一艘船能像一本书》没有一艘船能像一本书也没有一匹骏马能像一页跳跃着的诗行那样把人带往远方。
这条路最穷的人也能走不必为通行税伤神这是何等节俭的车承载着人的灵魂。
《你留给我两份遗产》你留给我，亲爱的，两份遗产一份遗产是爱，天父也会满足如果赠给天父—你还留给我痛苦的边界—痛苦浩阔如海—横亘在永恒、和时间—你的知觉、和我，之间—《我一直在爱》我一直在爱我可以向你证明直到我开始爱我从未活得充分我将永远爱下去也可以向你论证爱就是生命生命有不休的特性如果，亲爱的，对此也抱怀疑我就无从举证，除了，骷髅地《七月回答》七月回答哪里是蜜蜂哪里是红色哪里是干草? 啊，七月说哪里是种子哪里是萌芽哪里是五月我让你回答不-五月说示我白雪示我钟铃示我松鸦!挑剔的松鸦哪里是玉米哪里是薄雾哪里是芒刺? 这里，年说到。
SymbolisminthePoemsofEmilyDickinson
2422018年08期总第396期ENGLISH ON CAMPUSSymbolism in the Poems of Emily Dickinson 文/ LI WeiI. IntroductionEmily Dickinson is a famous American poet who was a witty woman, sensitive, full of humanity and with a genius for poetry. Emily Dickinson’s poems are short, but fresh and original, marked by the vigor of her images, the daring of her thought and the beauty of her expression. She wrote of these things so brilliantly that she is now ranked as one of America’s greatest poets. Her poems are all very short, but fresh and original, marked by the vigor of her images, the daring of her thought and the beauty of her expression. Ⅱ. Brief introduction of symbolism Symbolism begins in France, the latter part of the 19th century. It is a movement against Realism and Naturalism. Symbols are things that have a much deeper meaning than what it appears to be. Symbolism is the use of an ordinary item that causes the reader to think about what it stands for. The key idea of symbolism is using concrete images as symbols to express an emotion or an abstract idea, to represent an ideal world. This paper will tentatively talk about the symbolism used in the poems of these two poets. By analyzing the deep meaning of the symbolic objects, we can easily find the theme of each poem and the writing purpose of the poet.Ⅲ. Symbolism used in the poems of Emily Dickinson “Crumbling is not an instant’s Act” is a lyric by Emily Dickinson. It tells how crumbling does not happen instantaneously; it is a gradual process occurring slowly and cumulatively over time. The structure of this poem is complex and it tied directly into the figurative meaning. Perhaps the most perplexing attribute of the structure is that Dickinson capitalizes words in mid-sentence that would not normally be capitalized. This could represent decaying objects; capitalized words represent things still standing. The literal meaning of this poem is simple—ruin does not happen suddenly. It is actually a gradual process that is the result of continuous, small-scale decay. Every type of ruin takes time. Granted, one type might take more time than another, but it all takes time. “Crash’s Law” symbolizes a grim take off on scientific principles and mathematical rules. The word “crash” carries a bit of an “accidental” connotation. No accident, a crash follows an accumulation of little “slip”s. “Putting the devil into this” symbolizes both that little slips are evil and that evil exists in the middle of all our busyness, work, and thoughts. The words “processes” and “organized” and “consecutive” add to this sense of evil always calculatingly at work. This image conjures a picture of the world, a globe spinning on its axis. This timely poem could be applied to current financial crashes as well as to the way the war in Iraq keeps going and seems to be bringing down (“crumbling”) the country’s reputation, economics, and functioning although it was built on apparently deliberate deceptions. This poem is a guide to the way an institution and an individual become corrupt and, of course, being Emily Dickinson, can be applied to any seemingly sudden “Failure”. Another famous poem of Dickinson I want to mention is “The soul selects her own society”. There are 3 stanzas in this poem. The first stanza describes the soul, after the choice of her own society, shuts her door to her divine majority and no more presents. In the second stanza, the soul was unmoved when she notes the Chariots pausing at her low gate. She was also unmoved when she sees an Emperor fell on his knees to her. In the third line, “I” know that once the soul has chosen one belief from an abundant nation, she would then close the valves of her heart like stone. (and would never open it to any others) In this poem, the soul also has its symbolic meanings, it symbolizes a persistent individual, living upon self-reliance and unable to reconcile herself with those she dislikes. The poet is very careful in selecting words to express her points. She takes for granted the self as the center of the world. The self reveals a remarkable personality of self-maintenance and self-assertion.In a word, no matter what topic the poet wants to express, by using the symbolic persons and objects in this poem, Emily Dickinson delivers her deep thoughts clearly and vividly. Her poems bring us both pleasure and thinking. That is the reason why she is immortal and remembered by common people.【作者简介】LI Wei, Ma’ anshan Teacher’s College.【Fund project】Anhui province 2018 college excellent youth talent support program project(gxyq2018175).Copyright©博看网 . All Rights Reserved.。
英语学习资料：艾米莉经典英文诗：我是无名之辈
英语学习资料：艾米莉经典英文诗：我是无名之辈
艾米莉经典英文诗：我是无名之辈
艾米莉·狄金森（Emily Dickinson）是美国传奇女诗人，在她有生之年，她的作品未能获得青睐，然而周遭众人对她的不解与误会，却丝毫无法低损她丰富的创作天分。
根据统计，艾米莉惊人的创作力为世人留下1800多首诗，包括了定本的1775首与新近发现的25首。
艾米莉的诗一洗铅华、不事雕饰、质朴清新，有一种“粗糙美”，有时又如小儿学语般幼稚。
I'm nobody!—Emily Dickinson 我是无名之辈
Emily Dickinson 艾米莉·狄金森
I'm nobody!Who are you?
我是无名之辈，你是谁？
Are younobody, too?
你也是无名之辈？
Then there's a pair of us--don't tell!
那咱俩就成了一对——别出声！
They'd banishi us, you know!
他们会排挤咱们——要小心！
How dreary to be somebody!
做个大人物多没劲！
How public, like a frog，
多招摇——像只青蛙
To tell your name the livelong day，对着欣赏的小水洼
To an admiring bog!
整日里炫耀自己的名号！。
emily dickinson - selected peoms
Selected Poems of Emily Dickinson♫My Life had stood – a Loaded Gun –In Corners – till a DayThe Owner passed – identified –And carried Me away –And now We roam in Sovereign Woods –And now We hunt the Doe –And every time I speak for Him –The Mountains straight reply –And do I smile, such cordial light Upon the Valley glow –It is as a Vesuvian faceHad let its pleasure through –And when at Night – Our good Day done –I guard My Master’s Head –Tis better than the Eider-Duck’s Deep pillow – to have shared –To foe of His –I’m deadly foe –None stir the second time –On whom I lay a Yellow Eye –Or an emphatic Thumb –Though I than He – may longer live He longer must – than I –For I have but the power to kill, Without – the power to die –我的生命——一杆实弹枪——站在角落——直到有一天主人经过——认出——带着我离去——如今我们漫步在至尊的林中——如今我们追猎雌鹿——每次我替他说话——群山便立即回答——当我微笑，炙热的光在山谷闪亮——如同维苏威的脸孔让快乐流淌——夜晚——当白昼过去——我守护主人的头——胜过分享深陷的——鸭绒枕头——对他的敌人——我就是死敌——谁也休想再动一下——只要我用黄眼盯上他——或用有力的拇指杵着他——虽然我比他——也许活得久他的寿命一定——比我长——因为我有能力杀伤，却没有——死去的力量——（蒲隆译）♫The Admiration – and Contempts –of time –Show justest –through an OpenTomb –The Dying – as it were a HeightReorganizes EstimateAnd what We saw notWe distinguish clear –And mostly – see notWhat We saw before –Tis Compound Vision –Light – enabling Light –The Finite – furnishedWith the Infinite –Convex – and Concave Witness –Back – toward Time –And forward –Toward the God of Him –时光的——敬慕——与轻蔑——显示最公正——透过开放的坟墓——垂死的人——好像一个高度把估价重组以前没见过的现在我们明辨——却常常——看不到我们以前的所见——这是复合视域——光——万能之光——有限——用无限装点——凸面——见证凹面——向后——朝着时光——向前——走向他那上帝——（刘晓晖译）♫My life closed twice before its close–It yet remains to seeIf Immortality unveilA third event to meSo huge, so hopeless to conceiveAs these that twice befell.Parting is all we know of heaven,And all we need of hell.我的生命闭合前闭合过两次——却还拭目以待看永生是否为我把第三次经历揭开猜想，庞大而绝望就像那两次的降临。
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328
A Bird came down the Walk –
He did not know I saw –
He bit an Angleworm in halves
And ate the fellow, raw,
And then he drank a Dew
From a convenient Grass –
And then hopped sidewise to the Wall
To let a Beetle pass –
He glanced with rapid eyes
That hurried all around –
They looked like frightened Beads, I thought –He stirred his Velvet Head
Like one in danger, Cautious,
I offered him a Crumb
And he unrolled his feathers
And rowed him softer home –
Than Oars divide the Ocean,
Too silver for a seam –
Or Butterflies, off Banks of Noon
Leap, plashless as they swim.
712
Because I could not stop for Death –
He kindly stopped for me –
The Carriage held but just Ourselves –
And Immortality.
We slowly drove – He knew no haste
And I had put away
My labor and my leisure too,
For His Civility –
We passed the School, where Children strove
At Recess – in the Ring –
We passed the Fields of Gazing Grain –We passed the Setting Sun –
Or rather – He passed us –
The Dews drew quivering and chill –For only Gossamer, my Gown –
My Tippet – only Tulle –
We paused before a House that seemed A Swelling of the Ground –
The Roof was scarcely visible –
The Cornice – in the Ground –
Since then – 'tis Centuries – and yet Feels shorter than the Day
I first surmised the Horses' Heads Were toward Eternity –
465
I heard a Fly buzz – when I died –
The Stillness in the Room
Was like the Stillness in the Air –Between the Heaves of Storm –
The Eyes around – had wrung them dry –And Breaths were gathering firm
For that last Onset – when the King
Be witnessed – in the Room –
I willed my Keepsakes – Signed away What portions of me be
Assignable – and then it was
There interposed a Fly –
With Blue – uncertain stumbling Buzz –Between the light – and me –
And then the Windows failed – and then I could not see to see –。