Bright Star- John keats
John keats
Bright star
• Of snow upon the mountains and the moors--No---yet still stedfast, still unchangeable, Pillowed upon my fair love's ripening breast, To feel for ever its soft fall and swell, Awake for ever in a sweet unrest, Still, still to hear her tender-taken breath, And so live ever---or else swoon to death. • 灿烂、轻盈，覆盖着洼地和 高山—— 呵，不，——我只愿坚 定不移地 以头枕在爱人酥软的胸 脯上， 永远感到它舒缓地降落、 升起； 而醒来，心里充满甜蜜 的激荡， 不断，不断听着她细腻 的呼吸， 就这样活着，——或昏 迷地死去。 查良铮 译
Major Literary Works
• In John Keats’ short writing career of six or seven years, he produced a variety of kinds of works, including epic, lyric and narrative poems. • Except his first poem, Lines in Imitation of Spenser (1814) and his first book, Poems, published in 1817, his major works can be divided into the five long poems and the short ones.
十首英文情诗
节目音乐：In the mood for love by Rod StewartValentine's Day: 情人节Love poems: 爱情诗Poem: 一首诗Poetry: 诗歌Poet: 诗人Poetic: 有诗意的#1. Sonnet 116 by William Shakespeare (1564 -1616)莎士比亚《十四行诗之116》＊这首可能是英语世界最经典、最广为人知的爱情诗了＊Let me not to the marriage of true minds 我绝不承认两颗真心的结合admit impediments. Love is not love会有任何障碍；爱算不得真爱，Which alters when it alteration finds, 若是一看见人家改变便转舵，Or bends with the remover to remove. 或者一看见人家转弯便离开。
Oh no! It is an ever-fixed mark哦，决不！爱是亘古长明的塔灯，That looks on tempers and is never shaken. 它定晴望着风暴却兀不为动；It is a star to every wandering bark, 爱又是指引迷舟的一颗恒星，Whose worth's un known although his height be taken. 你可量它多高，它所值却无穷。
Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks爱不受时光的播弄，尽管红颜Within his bending sickle's compass come. 和皓齿难免遭受时光的毒手；Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks 沧桑轮回，爱却长生不改，But bears it out even to the edge of doom 爱恒久坚定，直到末日的尽头If this be error and upon me proved 假如有人能证明我说的不实，I never writ, nor no man ever loved. 那就算我从未写诗，世人也从未爱过。
济慈生平简介(英文版)及部分诗作
John Keats (1795-1821), renowned poet of the English Romantic Movement, wrote some of the greatest English language poems including "La Belle Dame Sans Merci", "Ode To A Nightingale", and "Ode On a Grecian Urn";O Attic shape! Fair attitude! with bredeOf marble men and maidens overwrought,With forest branches and the trodden weed;Thou, silent form, dost tease us out of thoughtAs doth eternity: Cold pastoral!When old age shall this generation waste,Thou shalt remain, in midst of other woeThan ours, a friend to man, to whom thou sayst,"Beauty is truth, truth beauty,--that is allYe know on earth, and all ye need to know."、John Keats was born on 31 October 1795 in Moorgate, London, England, the first child born to Frances Jennings (b.1775-d.1810) and Thomas Keats (d.1804), an employee of a livery stable. He had three siblings: George (1797-1841), Thomas (1799-1818), and Frances Mary "Fanny" (1803-1889). After leaving school in Enfield, Keats went on to apprentice with Dr. Hammond, a surgeon in Edmonton. After his father died in a riding accident, and his mother died of tuberculosis, John and his brothers moved to Hampstead. It was here that Keats met Charles Armitage Brown (1787-1842) who would become a great friend. Remembering his first meeting with him, Brown writes "His full fine eyes were lustrously intellectual, and beaming (at that time!)". Much grieved by his death, Brown worked for many years on his memoir and biography, Life of John Keats (1841). In it Brown claims that it was not until Keats read Edmund Spencer's Faery Queen that he realised his own gift for the poetic. Keats was an avid student in the fields of medicine and natural history, but he then turned his attentions to the literary works of such authors as William Shakespeare and Geoffrey Chaucer.Keats had his poems published in the magazines of the day at the encouragement of many including James Henry Leigh Hunt Esq. (1784-1859), editor of the Examiner and to whom Keats dedicated his first collection Poems (1817). It includes "To My Brother George", "O Solitude! If I Must With Thee Dwell", and "Happy is England! I Could Be Content". Upon its appearance a series of personal attacks directed at Keats ensued in the pages of Blackwood's Magazine. Despite the controversy surrounding his life, Keats's literary merit prevailed. That sameto stay with him and his family in Italy, he declined. When Shelley's body was washed ashore after drowning, a volume of Keats's poetry was found in his pocket.Having worked on it for many months, Keats finished his epic poem comprising four books, Endymion: A Poetic Romance--"A thing of beauty is a joy for ever"--in 1818. That summer he travelled to the Lake District of England and on to Ireland and Scotland on a walking tour with Brown. They visited the grave of Robert Burns and reminisced upon John Milton's poetry. While he was not aware of the seriousness of it, Keats was suffering from the initial stages of the deadly infectious disease tuberculosis. He cut his trip short and upon return to Hampstead immediately tended to his brother Tom who was then in the last stages of the disease. After Tom's death in December of 1818, Keats lived with Brown.Life of John Keats.Around this time Keats met, fell in love with, and became engaged to eighteen year old Frances "Fanny" Brawne (1800-1865). He wrote one of his more famous sonnets to her titled "Bright Star, would I were steadfast as thou art". While their relationship inspired much spiritual development for Keats, it also proved to be tempestuous, filled with the highs and lows from jealousy and infatuation of first love. Brown was not impressed and tried to provide some emotional stability to Keats. Many for a time were convinced that Fanny was the cause of his illness, or, used that as an excuse to try to keep her away from him. For a while even Keats entertained the possibility that he was merely suffering physical manifestations of emotional anxieties--but after suffering a hemorrhage he gave Fanny permission to break their engagement. She would hear nothing of it and by her word provided much comfort to Keats in his last days that she was ultimately loyal to him.Although 1819 proved to be his most prolific year of writing, Keats was also in dire financial straits. His brother George had borrowed money he could ill-afford to part with. His earning Fanny's mother's approval to marrydepended on his earning as a writer and he started plans with his publisher John Taylor (1781-1864) for his next volume of poems. At the beginning of 1820 Keats started to show more pronounced signs of the deadly tuberculosis that had killed his mother and brother. After a lung hemorrhage, Keats calmly accepted his fate, and he enjoyed several weeks of respite under Brown's watchful eye. As was common belief at the time that bleeding a patient was beneficial to healing, Keats was bled and given opium to relieve his anxiety and pain. He was at times put on a starvation diet, then at other times prescribed to eat meat and drink red wine to gain strength. Despite these ill-advised good-intentions, and suffering increasing weakness and fever, Keats was able to emerge from his fugue and organise the publication of his next volume of poetry.Lamia, Isabella, The Eve of St. Agnes, and Other Poems (1820) includes some of his best-known and oft-quoted works: "Hyperion", "To Autumn", and "Ode To A Nightingale". "Nightingale" evokes all the pain and suffering that Keats experienced during his short life-time: the death of his mother; the physical anguish he saw as a young apprentice tending to the sick and dying at St. Guy's Hospital; the death of his brother; and ultimately his own physical and spiritual suffering in love and illness. Keats lived to see positive reviews of Lamia, even in Blackwood's magazine. But the positivity was not to last long; Brown left for Scotland and the ailing Keats lived with Hunt for a time. But it was unbearable to him and only exacerbated his condition--he was unable to see Fanny, so, when he showed up at the Brawne's residence in much emotional agitation, sick, and feverish, they could not refuse him. He enjoyed a month with them, blissfully under the constant care of his beloved Fanny. Possibly bolstered by his finally having unrestricted time with her, and able to imagine a happy future with her, Keats considered his last hope of recovery of a rest cure in the warm climes of Italy. As a parting gift Fanny gave him a piece of marble which she had often clasped to cool her hand. In September of 1820 Keats sailed to Rome with friend and painter Joseph Severn (1793-1879, who was unaware of his circumstances with Fanny and the gravity of his health.Keats put on a bold front but it soon became apparent to Severn that he was terminally ill. They stayed in rooms on the Piazza Navona near the Spanish Steps, and enjoyed the lively sights and sounds of the people and culture, but Keats soon fell into a deep depression. When his attending doctor James Clark (1788-1870) finally voiced aloud the grim prognosis, Keats's medical background came to the fore and he longed to end his life and avoid the humiliating physical and mental torments of tuberculosis. By early 1821 he was confined to bed, Severn a devoted nurse. Keats had resolved not to write to Fanny and would not read a letter from her for fear of the pain it would cause him, although he constantly clasped her marble. During bouts of coughing, fever, nightmares, Keats also tried to cheer his friend, who held him till the end.John Keats died on 23 February 1821 in Rome, Italy, and now rests in the Protestant Cemetery in Rome, by the pyramid of Caius Cestius, near his friend Shelley. His epitaph reads "Here lies one whose name was writ in water", inspired by the line "all your better deeds, Shall be in water writ" from Francis Beaumont (1584-1616) and John Fletcher's (1579-1625) five act play Philaster or: Love Lies A-bleeding. Just a year later, Shelley was buried in the same cemetery, not long after he had written "Adonais" (1821) in tribute to his friend;I weep for Adonais--he is dead!O, weep for Adonais! though our tearsThaw not the frost which binds so dear a head!And thou, sad Hour, selected from all yearsTo mourn our loss, rouse thy obscure compeers,And teach them thine own sorrow, say: "With meDied Adonais; till the Future daresForget the Past, his fate and fame shall beAn echo and a light unto eternity!"Fanny Brawne married in 1833 and died at the age of sixty-five. English poet and friend of Brown's, Richard Monckton Milnes (1809-1885) wrote Life, Letters, and Literary Remains of John Keats (1848). During his lifetime and since, John Keats inspired numerous other authors, poets, and artists, and remains one of the most widely read and studied 19th century poets.Biography written by C. D. Merriman for Jalic Inc. Copyright Jalic Inc. 2007. All Rights Reserved.Works：长篇叙事诗Endymion《恩底弥翁》;The Eve of St.Agnes《圣艾格尼丝节前夜》;Lamia《拉米亚》;（颂诗）Ode to Psyche《普赛克颂》;《希腊古瓮颂》Sleep and Poetry《睡与诗》"As I lay in my bed slepe full unmete Was unto me, but why that I ne might Rest I ne wist, for there n'as erthly wight[As I suppose] had more of hertis ese Than I, for I n'ad sicknesse nor disese."CHAUCER.What is more gentle than a wind in summer? What is more soothing than the pretty hummer That stays one moment in an open flower,And buzzes cheerily from bower to bower?What is more tranquil than a musk-rose blowing In a green island, far from all men's knowing? More healthful than the leafiness of dales?More secret than a nest of nightingales?More serene than Cordelia's countenance?More full of visions than a high romance? What, but thee Sleep? Soft closer of our eyes! Low murmurer of tender lullabies!Light hoverer around our happy pillows! Wreather of poppy buds, and weeping willows! Silent entangler of a beauty's tresses!Most happy listener! when the morning blesses Thee for enlivening all the cheerful eyesThat glance so brightly at the new sun-rise. But what is higher beyond thought than thee? Fresher than berries of a mountain tree?More strange, more beautiful, more smooth, more regal,Than wings of swans, than doves, than dim-seen eagle?What is it? And to what shall I compare it?It has a glory, and nought else can share it:The thought thereof is awful, sweet, and holy, Chacing away all worldliness and folly;Coming sometimes like fearful claps of thunder,Or the low rumblings earth's regions under;And sometimes like a gentle whisperingOf all the secrets of some wond'rous thingThat breathes about us in the vacant air;So that we look around with prying stare,Perhaps to see shapes of light, aerial lymning,And catch soft floatings from a faint-heard hymning; To see the laurel wreath, on high suspended,That is to crown our name when life is ended. Sometimes it gives a glory to the voice,And from the heart up-springs, rejoice! rejoice! Sounds which will reach the Framer of all things, And die away in ardent mutterings.No one who once the glorious sun has seen,And all the clouds, and felt his bosom cleanFor his great Maker's presence, but must know What 'tis I mean, and feel his being glow:Therefore no insult will I give his spirit,By telling what he sees from native merit.O Poesy! for thee I hold my penThat am not yet a glorious denizenOf thy wide heaven--Should I rather kneelUpon some mountain-top until I feelA glowing splendour round about me hung,And echo back the voice of thine own tongue?O Poesy! for thee I grasp my penThat am not yet a glorious denizenOf thy wide heaven; yet, to my ardent prayer, Yield from thy sanctuary some clear air, Smoothed for intoxication by the breathOf flowering bays, that I may die a deathOf luxury, and my young spirit followThe morning sun-beams to the great ApolloLike a fresh sacrifice; or, if I can bearThe o'erwhelming sweets, 'twill bring to me the fair Visions of all places: a bowery nookWill be elysium--an eternal bookWhence I may copy many a lovely sayingAbout the leaves, and flowers--about the playing Of nymphs in woods, and fountains; and the shade Keeping a silence round a sleeping maid;And many a verse from so strange influenceThat we must ever wonder how, and whenceIt came. Also imaginings will hoverRound my fire-side, and haply there discover Vistas of solemn beauty, where I'd wanderIn happy silence, like the clear meanderThrough its lone vales; and where I found a spot Of awfuller shade, or an enchanted grot,Or a green hill o'erspread with chequered dressOf flowers, and fearful from its loveliness,Write on my tablets all that was permitted,All that was for our human senses fitted.Then the events of this wide world I'd seizeLike a strong giant, and my spirit teazeTill at its shoulders it should proudly seeWings to find out an immortality. Stop and consider! life is but a day;A fragile dew-drop on its perilous wayFrom a tree's summit; a poor Indian's sleep While his boat hastens to the monstrous steepOf Montmorenci. Why so sad a moan?Life is the rose's hope while yet unblown;The reading of an ever-changing tale;The light uplifting of a maiden's veil;A pigeon tumbling in clear summer air;A laughing school-boy, without grief or care, Riding the springy branches of an elm.O for ten years, that I may overwhelmMyself in poesy; so I may do the deedThat my own soul has to itself decreed.Then will I pass the countries that I seeIn long perspective, and continuallyTaste their pure fountains. First the realm I'll pass Of Flora, and old Pan: sleep in the grass,Feed upon apples red, and strawberries,And choose each pleasure that my fancy sees; Catch the white-handed nymphs in shady places, To woo sweet kisses from averted faces,--Play with their fingers, touch their shoulders white Into a pretty shrinking with a biteAs hard as lips can make it: till agreed,A lovely tale of human life we'll read.And one will teach a tame dove how it bestMay fan the cool air gently o'er my rest; Another, bending o'er her nimble tread,Will set a green robe floating round her head, And still will dance with ever varied case,Smiling upon the flowers and the trees:Another will entice me on, and onThrough almond blossoms and rich cinnamon;Till in the bosom of a leafy worldWe rest in silence, like two gems upcurl'dIn the recesses of a pearly shell.And can I ever bid these joys farewell?Yes, I must pass them for a nobler life,Where I may find the agonies, the strifeOf human hearts: for lo! I see afar,O'er sailing the blue cragginess, a carAnd steeds with streamy manes--the charioteer Looks out upon the winds with glorious fear:And now the numerous tramplings quiver lightly Along a huge cloud's ridge; and now with sprightly Wheel downward come they into fresher skies,Tipt round with silver from the sun's bright eyes. Still downward with capacious whirl they glide, And now I see them on a green-hill's sideIn breezy rest among the nodding stalks.The charioteer with wond'rous gesture talksTo the trees and mountains; and there soon appear Shapes of delight, of mystery, and fear,Passing along before a dusky spaceMade by some mighty oaks: as they would chase Some ever-fleeting music on they sweep.Lo! how they murmur, laugh, and smile, and weep: Some with upholden hand and mouth severe; Some with their faces muffled to the earBetween their arms; some, clear in youthful bloom, Go glad and smilingly, athwart the gloom;Some looking back, and some with upward gaze; Yes, thousands in a thousand different waysFlit onward--now a lovely wreath of girlsDancing their sleek hair into tangled curls;And now broad wings. Most awfully intentThe driver, of those steeds is forward bent,And seems to listen: O that I might knowAll that he writes with such a hurrying glow.The visions all are fled--the car is fledInto the light of heaven, and in their steadA sense of real things comes doubly strong,And, like a muddy stream, would bear alongMy soul to nothingness: but I will striveAgainst all doublings, and will keep aliveThe thought of that same chariot, and the strange Journey it went.Is there so small a rangeIn the present strength of manhood, that the high Imagination cannot freely flyAs she was wont of old? prepare her steeds, Paw up against the light, and do strange deeds Upon the clouds? Has she not shewn us all? From the clear space of ether, to the small Breath of new buds unfolding? From the meaning Of Jove's large eye-brow, to the tender greening Of April meadows? Here her altar shone,E'en in this isle; and who could paragonThe fervid choir that lifted up a noiseOf harmony, to where it aye will poiseIts mighty self of convoluting sound,Huge as a planet, and like that roll round, Eternally around a dizzy void?Ay, in those days the Muses were nigh cloy'd With honors; nor had any other careThan to sing out and sooth their wavy hair.Could all this be forgotten? Yes, a schism Nurtured by foppery and barbarism,Made great Apollo blush for this his land.Men were thought wise who could not understand His glories: with a puling infant's forceThey sway'd about upon a rocking horse,And thought it Pegasus. Ah dismal soul'd!The winds of heaven blew, the ocean roll'dIts gathering waves--ye felt it not. The blue Bared its eternal bosom, and the dewOf summer nights collected still to makeThe morning precious: beauty was awake!Why were ye not awake? But ye were deadTo things ye knew not of,--were closely wedTo musty laws lined out with wretched ruleAnd compass vile: so that ye taught a schoolOf dolts to smooth, inlay, and clip, and fit,Till, like the certain wands of Jacob's wit,Their verses tallied. Easy was the task:A thousand handicraftsmen wore the maskOf Poesy. Ill-fated, impious race!That blasphemed the bright Lyrist to his face, And did not know it,--no, they went about, Holding a poor, decrepid standard outMark'd with most flimsy mottos, and in largeThe name of one Boileau!O ye whose chargeIt is to hover round our pleasant hills!Whose congregated majesty so fillsMy boundly reverence, that I cannot traceYour hallowed names, in this unholy place,So near those common folk; did not their shames Affright you? Did our old lamenting Thames Delight you? Did ye never cluster roundDelicious Avon, with a mournful sound,And weep? Or did ye wholly bid adieuTo regions where no more the laurel grew?Or did ye stay to give a welcomingTo some lone spirits who could proudly singTheir youth away, and die? 'Twas even so:But let me think away those times of woe:Now 'tis a fairer season; ye have breathedRich benedictions o'er us; ye have wreathedFresh garlands: for sweet music has been heardIn many places;--some has been upstirr'dFrom out its crystal dwelling in a lake,By a swan's ebon bill; from a thick brake,Nested and quiet in a valley mild,Bubbles a pipe; fine sounds are floating wildAbout the earth: happy are ye and glad.These things are doubtless: yet in truth we've had Strange thunders from the potency of song; Mingled indeed with what is sweet and strong, From majesty: but in clear truth the themesAre ugly clubs, the Poets PolyphemesDisturbing the grand sea. A drainless showerOf light is poesy; 'tis the supreme of power;'Tis might half slumb'ring on its own right arm. The very archings of her eye-lids charmA thousand willing agents to obey,And still she governs with the mildest sway:But strength alone though of the Muses bornIs like a fallen angel: trees uptorn,Darkness, and worms, and shrouds, and sepulchres Delight it; for it feeds upon the burrs,And thorns of life; forgetting the great endOf poesy, that it should be a friendTo sooth the cares, and lift the thoughts of man. Yet I rejoice: a myrtle fairer thanE'er grew in Paphos, from the bitter weedsLifts its sweet head into the air, and feedsA silent space with ever sprouting green.All tenderest birds there find a pleasant screen, Creep through the shade with jaunty fluttering, Nibble the little cupped flowers and sing.Then let us clear away the choaking thornsFrom round its gentle stem; let the young fawns, Yeaned in after times, when we are flown,Find a fresh sward beneath it, overgrownWith simple flowers: let there nothing beMore boisterous than a lover's bended knee; Nought more ungentle than the placid lookOf one who leans upon a closed book;Nought more untranquil than the grassy slopes Between two hills. All hail delightful hopes!As she was wont, th' imaginationInto most lovely labyrinths will be gone,And they shall be accounted poet kingsWho simply tell the most heart-easing things.O may these joys be ripe before I die.Will not some say that I presumptuouslyHave spoken? that from hastening disgrace'Twere better far to hide my foolish face?That whining boyhood should with reverence bow Ere the dread thunderbolt could reach? How!If I do hide myself, it sure shall beIn the very fane, the light of Poesy:If I do fall, at least I will be laidBeneath the silence of a poplar shade;And over me the grass shall be smooth shaven; And there shall be a kind memorial graven.But oft' Despondence! miserable bane!They should not know thee, who athirst to gain A noble end, are thirsty every hour.What though I am not wealthy in the dowerOf spanning wisdom; though I do not knowThe shiftings of the mighty winds, that blow Hither and thither all the changing thoughtsOf man: though no great minist'ring reason sorts Out the dark mysteries of human soulsTo clear conceiving: yet there ever rollsA vast idea before me, and I gleanTherefrom my liberty; thence too I've seenThe end and aim of Poesy. 'Tis clearAs any thing most true; as that the yearIs made of the four seasons--manifestAs a large cross, some old cathedral's crest, Lifted to the white clouds. Therefore should IBe but the essence of deformity,A coward, did my very eye-lids winkAt speaking out what I have dared to think.Ah! rather let me like a madman runOver some precipice; let the hot sunMelt my Dedalian wings, and drive me down Convuls'd and headlong! Stay! an inward frown Of conscience bids me be more calm awhile.An ocean dim, sprinkled with many an isle, Spreads awfully before me. How much toil!How many days! what desperate turmoil!Ere I can have explored its widenesses.Ah, what a task! upon my bended knees,I could unsay those--no, impossible! Impossible!For sweet relief I'll dwellOn humbler thoughts, and let this strange assay Begun in gentleness die so away.E'en now all tumult from my bosom fades:I turn full hearted to the friendly aidsThat smooth the path of honour; brotherhood, And friendliness the nurse of mutual good.The hearty grasp that sends a pleasant sonnet Into the brain ere one can think upon it;The silence when some rhymes are coming out; And when they're come, the very pleasant rout: The message certain to be done to-morrow.'Tis perhaps as well that it should be to borrow Some precious book from out its snug retreat, To cluster round it when we next shall meet. Scarce can I scribble on; for lovely airsAre fluttering round the room like doves in pairs; Many delights of that glad day recalling,When first my senses caught their tender falling. And with these airs come forms of elegance Stooping their shoulders o'er a horse's prance, Careless, and grand--fingers soft and round Parting luxuriant curls;--and the swift bound Of Bacchus from his chariot, when his eye Made Ariadne's cheek look blushingly.Thus I remember all the pleasant flowOf words at opening a portfolio.Things such as these are ever harbingersTo trains of peaceful images: the stirsOf a swan's neck unseen among the rushes:A linnet starting all about the bushes:A butterfly, with golden wings broad parted, Nestling a rose, convuls'd as though it smarted With over pleasure--many, many more,Might I indulge at large in all my storeOf luxuries: yet I must not forgetSleep, quiet with his poppy coronet:For what there may be worthy in these rhymes I partly owe to him: and thus, the chimesOf friendly voices had just given placeTo as sweet a silence, when I 'gan retraceThe pleasant day, upon a couch at ease.It was a poet's house who keeps the keysOf pleasure's temple. Round about were hung The glorious features of the bards who sungIn other ages--cold and sacred bustsSmiled at each other. Happy he who trustsTo clear Futurity his darling fame!Then there were fauns and satyrs taking aim At swelling apples with a frisky leapAnd reaching fingers, 'mid a luscious heapOf vine leaves. Then there rose to view a fane Of liny marble, and thereto a trainOf nymphs approaching fairly o'er the sward: One, loveliest, holding her white band toward The dazzling sun-rise: two sisters sweet Bending their graceful figures till they meet Over the trippings of a little child:And some are hearing, eagerly, the wild Thrilling liquidity of dewy piping.See, in another picture, nymphs are wipingCherishingly Diana's timorous limbs;--A fold of lawny mantle dabbling swimsAt the bath's edge, and keeps a gentle motionWith the subsiding crystal: as when oceanHeaves calmly its broad swelling smoothiness o'er Its rocky marge, and balances once moreThe patient weeds; that now unshent by foamFeel all about their undulating home.Sappho's meek head was there half smiling downAt nothing; just as though the earnest frownOf over thinking had that moment goneFrom off her brow, and left her all alone.Great Alfred's too, with anxious, pitying eyes,As if he always listened to the sighsOf the goaded world; and Kosciusko's wornBy horrid suffrance--mightily forlorn.Petrarch, outstepping from the shady green,Starts at the sight of Laura; nor can weanHis eyes from her sweet face. Most happy they!For over them was seen a free displayOf out-spread wings, and from between them shone The face of Poesy: from off her throneShe overlook'd things that I scarce could tell.The very sense of where I was might wellKeep Sleep aloof: but more than that there came Thought after thought to nourish up the flame Within my breast; so that the morning light Surprised me even from a sleepless night;And up I rose refresh'd, and glad, and gay, Resolving to begin that very dayThese lines; and howsoever they be done,I leave them as a father does his son. Ode to a Nightingale《夜莺颂》My heart aches, and a drowsy numbness painsMy sense, as though of hemlock I had drunk,Or emptied some dull opiate to the drainsOne minute past, and Lethe-wards had sunk:'Tis not through envy of thy happy lot,But being too happy in thy happiness, -That thou, light-winged Dryad of the trees,In some melodious plotOf beechen green, and shadows numberless, Singest of summer in full-throated ease.O for a draught of vintage! that hath beenCooled a long age in the deep-delved earth,Tasting of Flora and the country-green,Dance, and Provencal song, and sunburnt mirth.O for a beaker full of the warm South,Full of the true, the blushful Hippocrene,With beaded bubbles winking at the brimAnd purple-stained mouth;That I might drink, and leave the world unseen,And with thee fade away into the forest dim.Fade far away, dissolve, and quite forgetWhat thou among the leaves hast never known,The weariness, the fever, and the fretHere, where men sit and hear each other groan; Where palsy shakes a few, sad, last grey hairs, Where youth grows pale, and spectre-thin, and dies; Where but to think is to be full of sorrowAnd leaden-eyed despairs;Where Beauty cannot keep her lustrous eyes,Or new Love pine at them beyond tomorrow.Away! away! for I will fly to thee,Not charioted by Bacchus and his pards,But on the viewless wings of Poesy,Though the dull brain perplexes and retards: Already with thee! tender is the night,And haply the Queen-Moon is on her throne, Clustered around by all her starry Fays;But here there is no lightSave what from heaven is with the breezes blown Through verdurous glooms and winding mossy ways.I cannot see what flowers are at my feet,Nor what soft incense hangs upon the boughs, But, in embalmed darkness, guess each sweet Wherewith the seasonable month endowsThe grass, the thicket, and the fruit-tree wild;White hawthorn, and the pastoral eglantine;Fast-fading violets covered up in leaves;And mid-May's eldest childThe coming musk-rose, full of dewy wine,The murmurous haunt of flies on summer eves. Darkling I listen; and for many a timeI have been half in love with easeful Death,Called him soft names in many a mused rhyme,To take into the air my quiet breath;Now more than ever seems it rich to die,To cease upon the midnight with no pain,While thou art pouring forth thy soul abroadIn such an ecstasy!Still wouldst thou sing, and I have ears in vain -To thy high requiem become a sod.Thou wast not born for death, immortal Bird!。
十首诗歌
1. When You Are Old William Butler YeatsWhen you are old and gray and full of sleep,And nodding by the fire, take down this book,And slowly read, and dream of the soft look,Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep; How many loved your moments of glad grace, And loved your beauty with love false or true,But one man loved the pilgrim Soul in you,And loved the sorrows of your changing face;And bending down beside the glowing bars, Murmur, a little sadly, how loved fledAnd paced upon the mountains overheadAnd hid his face amid a crowd of stars.当你老了，两鬓斑白，睡衣沉沉，倦坐在路边时，取下这本书来，慢慢读起，追忆那当年的眼神，神色柔和倒影深深。
多少人曾爱慕你青春妩媚的身影，爱过你的眉毛出自加以或者真情，而唯独一人爱你那朝圣者的心，爱你日渐衰老的满面风霜。
你弯下腰，在炙热的炉边，在浅浅忧伤中沉吟：爱情如何逝去，向山峦之巅峰独行，将他的面容隐没在繁星中间。
汉语诗朗诵网址：http://blog.威廉·巴特勒·叶芝（WilliamButlerYeats,1865年6月13日~1939年1月28日），亦译“叶慈”，爱尔兰诗人、剧作家和散文家。
最新整理济慈名诗夜莺颂中英对照欣赏
济慈名诗夜莺颂中英对照欣赏约翰济慈，他遗下的诗篇誉满人间，他的诗被认为完美体现了西方浪漫主义诗歌特色。
今天学习啦小编在这里为大家介绍济慈的名诗《夜莺颂》，欢迎大家阅读！济慈名诗夜莺颂中英对照O d e t o a N i g h t i n g a l e 《夜莺颂》M y h e a r t a c h e s,a n d a d r o w s y n u m b n e s s p a i n s 我的心在痛,困顿和麻木M y s e n s e,a s t h o u g h o f h e m l o c k I h a d d r u n k,刺进了感官有如饮过毒鸩O r e m p t i e d s o m e d u l l o p i a t e t o t h e d r a i n s 又像是刚把鸦片吞服O n e m i n u t e p a s t,a n d L e t h e-w a r d s h a d s u n k 於是向列斯忘川下沉T i s n o t t h r o u g h e n v y o f t h y h a p p y l o t,并不是我忌妒你的好运B u t b e i n g t o o h a p p y i n t h i n e h a p p i n e s s,--而是你的快乐使我太欢欣T h a t t h o u,l i g h t-w i n g e d D r y a d o f t h e t r e e s因为在林间嘹亮的天地里I n s o m e m e l o d i o u s p l o t你呵,轻翅的仙灵O f b e e c h e n g r e e n,a n d s h a d o w s n u m b e r l e s s,你躲进山毛榉的葱绿和荫影S i n g e s t o f s u m m e r i n f u l l-t h r o a t e d e a s e.放开了歌喉,歌唱著夏季O,f o r a d r a u g h t o f v i n t a g e!t h a t h a t h b e e n 唉,要是有一口酒,那冷藏C o o l d a l o n g a g e i n t h e d e e p-d e l v e d e a r t h,在地下多年的清醇饮料T a s t i n g o f F l o r a a n d t h e c o u n t r y g r e e n,一尝就令人想起绿色之邦D a n c e, a n d P r o v e n c a l s o n g, a n d s u n b u r n t m i r t h!想起花神,恋歌,阳光和舞蹈O f o r a b e a k e r f u l l o f t h e w a r m S o u t h,要是有一杯南国的温暖F u l l o f t h e t r u e,t h e b l u s h f u l H i p p o c r e n e,充满了鲜红的灵感之泉W i t h b e a d e d b u b b l e s w i n k i n g a t t h e b r i m,杯缘明灭著珍珠的泡沫A n d p u r p l e-s t a i n e d m o u t h给嘴唇染上紫斑T h a t I m i g h t d r i n k, a n d l e a v e t h e w o r l d u n s e e n,我要一饮而尽而悄然离开尘寰A n d w i t h t h e e f a d e a w a y i n t o t h e f o r e s t d i m和你同去幽暗的林中隐没F a d e f a r a w a y,d i s s o l v e,a n d q u i t e f o r g e t远远地,远远隐没,让我忘掉W h a t t h o u a m o n g t h e l e a v e s h a s t n e v e r k n o w n,你在树叶间从不知道的一切T h e w e a r i n e s s,t h e f e v e r,a n d t h e f r e t 忘记这疲劳,热病,和焦躁H e r e, w h e r e m e n s i t a n d h e a r e a c h o t h e r g r o a n;这使人对坐而悲叹的世界W h e r e p a l s y s h a k e s a f e w, s a d, l a s t g r a y h a i r s,在这里,青春,苍白,削瘦,死亡W h e r e y o u t h g r o w s p a l e,a n d s p e c t r e-t h i n,a n d d i e s;而瘫痪有几根白发在摇摆W h e r e b u t t o t h i n k i s t o b e f u l l o f s o r r o w 在这里,稍一思索就充满了A n d l e a d e n-e y e d d e s p a i r s,忧伤和灰暗的绝望W h e r e B e a u t y c a n n o t k e e p h e r l u s t r o u s e y e s,而美保持不住明眸的光彩O r n e w L o v e p i n e a t t h e m b e y o n d t o-m o r r o w.新生的爱情活不到明天就枯凋A w a y!a w a y!f o r I w i l l f l y t o t h e e,去吧!去吧!我要朝你飞去N o t c h a r i o t e d b y B a c c h u s a n d h i s p a r d s,不用和酒神坐文豹的车驾B u t o n t h e v i e w l e s s w i n g s o f P o e s y,我要展开诗歌底无形的羽翼T h o u g h t h e d u l l b r a i n p e r p l e x e s a n d r e t a r d s 尽管这头脑已经困顿,疲乏A l r e a d y w i t h t h e e!t e n d e r i s t h e n i g h t,去了,我已经和你同往A n d h a p l y t h e Q u e e n-M o o n i s o n h e r t h r o n e,夜这般温柔,月后正登上宝座C l u s t e r d a r o u n d b y a l l h e r s t a r r y F a y s;周围是侍卫她的一群星星B u t h e r e t h e r e i s n o l i g h t,但这儿不甚明亮S a v e w h a t f r o m h e a v e n i s w i t h t h e b r e e z e s b l o w n 除了有一线天光,被微风带过T h r o u g h v e r d u r o u s g l o o m s a n d w i n d i n g m o s s yw a y s.葱绿的幽暗和藓苔的曲径I c a n n o t s e e w h a t f l o w e r s a r e a t m y f e e t,我看不出是哪种花在脚旁N o r w h a t s o f t i n c e n s e h a n g s u p o n t h e b o u g h s,什麼清香的花挂在树枝上B u t,i n e m b a l m e d d a r k n e s s,g u e s s e a c h s w e e t在温馨的幽暗理,我只能猜想W h e r e w i t h t h e s e a s o n a b l e m o n t h e n d o w s 这时令该把哪种芬芳T h e g r a s s, t h e t h i c k e t, a n d t h e f r u i t-t r e e w i l d;赋予这果树,林莽和草丛W h i t e h a w t h o r n,a n d t h e p a s t o r a l e g l a n t i n e;这白枳花,和田野的玫瑰F a s t f a d i n g v i o l e t s c o v e r d u p i n l e a v e s;这绿叶堆中易凋谢的紫罗兰A n d m i d-M a y s e l d e s t c h i l d,还有五月中旬的娇宠T h e c o m i n g m u s k-r o s e,f u l l o f d e w y w i n e,这缀满了露酒的麝香蔷薇T h e m u r m u r o u s h a u n t o f f l i e s o n s u m m e r e v e s.它成了夏夜蚊蚋嗡营的港湾D a r k l i n g I l i s t e n;a n d,f o r m a n y a t i m e我在黑暗中里倾听,多少次I h a v e b e e n h a l f i n l o v e w i t h e a s e f u l D e a t h,我几乎爱上了静谧的死亡C a l l d h i m s o f t n a m e s i n m a n y a m u s e d r h y m e,我在诗思里用尽了我言辞T o t a k e i n t o t h e a i r m y q u i e t b r e a t h;求他把我的一息散入空茫N o w m o r e t h a n e v e r s e e m s i t r i c h t o d i e,而现在,死更是多麼的富丽T o c e a s e u p o n t h e m i d n i g h t w i t h n o p a i n,在午夜里溘然魂离人间W h i l e t h o u a r t p o u r i n g f o r t h t h y s o u l a b r o a d 当你正倾泻你的心怀I n s u c h a n e c s t a s y!发出这般的狂喜S t i l l w o u l d s t t h o u s i n g,a n d I h a v e e a r s i n v a i n--你仍将歌唱,但我却不再听T o t h y h i g h r e q u i e m b e c o m e a s o d.你的莽歌只能唱给泥草一块T h o u w a s t n o t b o r n f o r d e a t h,i m m o r t a l B i r d!永生的鸟啊,你不会死去N o h u n g r y g e n e r a t i o n s t r e a d t h e e d o w n;饿的世代无法将你蹂躏T h e v o i c e I h e a r t h i s p a s s i n g n i g h t w a s h e a r d 今夜,我偶然听到的歌曲I n a n c i e n t d a y s b y e m p e r o r a n d c l o w n:当使古代的帝王和村夫喜悦P e r h a p s t h e s e l f-s a m e s o n g t h a t f o u n d a p a t h 或许这同样的歌也曾激荡T h r o u g h t h e s a d h e a r t o f R u t h,w h e n,s i c k f o r h o m e,露丝忧郁的心,使她不禁落泪S h e s t o o d i n t e a r s a m i d t h e a l i e n c o r n;站在异邦的谷田里想著家T h e s a m e t h a t o f t-t i m e s h a t h就是这声音常常C h a r m d m a g i c c a s e m e n t s,o p e n i n g o n t h e f o a m在失掉了的仙域里引动窗扉O f p e r i l o u s s e a s,i n f a e r y l a n d s f o r l o r n.一个美女望著大海险恶的浪花F o r l o r n!t h e v e r y w o r d i s l i k e a b e l l失掉了,这句话好比一声钟T o t o l l m e b a c k f r o m t h e e t o m y s o l e s e l f!使我猛省到我站脚的地方A d i e u!t h e f a n c y c a n n o t c h e a t s o w e l l别了!幻想,这骗人的妖童A s s h e i s f a m d t o d o,d e c e i v i n g e l f.不能老耍弄它盛传的伎俩A d i e u!a d i e u!t h y p l a i n t i v e a n t h e m f a d e s别了!别了!你怨诉的歌声P a s t t h e n e a r m e a d o w s,o v e r t h e s t i l l s t r e a m,流过草坪,越过幽静的溪水U p t h e h i l l-s i d e;a n d n o w t i s b u r i e d d e e p 溜上山坡,而此时它正深深I n t h e n e x t v a l l e y-g l a d e s:埋在附近的溪谷中W a s i t a v i s i o n,o r a w a k i n g d r e a m?这是个幻觉,还是梦寐F l e d i s t h a t m u s i c:--D o I w a k e o r s l e e p?那歌声去了我是睡?是醒?济慈诗歌欣赏带翻译篇一B r i g h t S t a r灿烂星辰J o h n K e a t s约翰济慈B r i g h t s t a r, w o u l d I w e r e s t e d f a s t a s t h o u a r t愿我如你坚定璀璨明星!N o t i n l o n e s p l e n d o u r h u n g a l o f t t h e n i g h t 但不要高悬夜空显赫孤零。
love letters-John Keats to Fenny Browne
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About the Author
关于作者
Appreciation of texts
课文赏析
பைடு நூலகம்
Classical Poetry
经典诗歌——Bright Star
关于这封信
2011年04月02日英国诗人济慈情 书9.6万英镑拍出 。据英国《每 日邮报》报道，英国诗人约 翰·济慈(John Keats)写给未婚妻 芬妮·勃劳恩(Fanny Brawne)的 情书在伦敦邦汉姆拍卖行 (London auction house Bonhams) 上拍出9.6万英镑的高价。 利兹大学的英国文学教授约 翰·巴纳德(John Barnard)解释说， 济慈写过的情书并不多，而且只 有极少封情书被私人收藏，所以 非常珍贵。
明亮的星，但愿我能如你坚定--但并非孤独地在夜空闪烁高悬， 睁着一双永不合拢的眼睛， 犹如苦修的隐士彻夜无眠， 凝视海水冲洗尘世的崖岸， 好似牧师行施净体的沐浴，
O r ga z ing on the ne w soft-fa lle n m a sk O f snow upon the m ounta ins a nd the m oors--N o-ye t still ste dfa st, still uncha nge a ble , P illow 'd upon m y fa ir love 's ripe ning bre a st, T o fe e l for e ve r its soft fa ll a nd sw e ll, Aw a ke for e ve r in a sw e e t unre st, Still, still to he ar her te nder-take n bre ath, 或正俯瞰下界的荒原与群山 And so live e ve r---or e lse sw oon to 被遮盖在轻轻飘落的雪罩里--de a th 并非这样---却永远鉴定如 故， 枕卧在我美丽的爱人的胸膛， 永远能感到它的轻轻的起伏， 永远清醒，在甜蜜的不安中， 永远、永远听着她轻柔的呼吸， 永远这样生活---或昏厥而死去
抖森读诗
11.Bright Star by John Keats [Tom Hiddleston .ver]Bright star! would I were stedfast as thou art —Not in lone splendour hung aloft the night, And watching, with eternal lids apart,Like Nature’s patient, sleepless Eremite,The moving waters at their priestlike taskOf pure ablution round earth’s human shores, Or gazing on the new soft-fallen maskOf snow upon the mountains and the moors —No — yet still stedfast, still unchangeable, Pillow’d upon my fair love’s ripening breast,To feel for ever its soft fall and swell,Awake for ever in a sweet unrest;Still, still to hear her tender-taken breath,And so live ever — or else swoon to death.13.She Walks in BeautyShe walks in beauty, like the nightOf cloudless climes and starry skies；And all that’s best of dark and bright Meet in her aspect and her eyes；Thus mellowed to that tender light Which heaven to gaudy day denies．One shade more, one ray less,Had half impaired the nameless grace Which waves in every raven tress,Or softly lightens o’er her face；Where thoughts serenely sweet express How pure, how dear their dwelling-place．And on that cheek, and o’er that brow,So soft, so calm, yet eloquentThe smiles that win, the tints that glow．But tell of days in goodness spent,A mind at peace with all below,A heart whose love is innocent!她在美中徜徉，她在美中穿行；象深邃的苍穹缀满繁星，象皎洁的夜空万里无云。
抖森诗歌朗诵
，
"O stand, stand at the window哦，快快站起来、站到窗前来
As the tears scald and start; 热泪潸然灼人，夺眶而出
Still, still to hear her tender-taken breath, 不断听着她细腻的呼吸，
And so live ever---or else swoon to death. 就这样活着，或昏迷地死去。
As I walked out one evening
Till China and Africa meet, 直到地域再生天翻地覆 （直到中国和非洲相合）
And the river jumps over the mountain直到江水倒流越过高山，
And the salmon sing in the street, 直到鱼儿跳跃离开了水。
"I'll love you till the ocean Is folded and hung up to dry我将永远爱你到海断裂枯竭
Will make a lawyer burn his books; 让律师把法律抛舍；
I touch'd her not, alas! not I, 天哪，我自愧不如，
And yet I love her till I die. 而且要爱她直到地老天荒。
Had I her fast betwixt mine arms, 如果我把她拥进怀里，
To-morrow or to-day. 不论是今天亦或是明天
[10首最经典的浪漫情诗]5首最经典的浪漫情诗
![[10首最经典的浪漫情诗]5首最经典的浪漫情诗](https://img.taocdn.com/s3/m/9dcf9b9b7375a417876f8faa.png)
[10首最经典的浪漫情诗]5首最经典的浪漫情诗【--经典手机短信】爱是冰冷冬夜送来的炸鱼薯条，爱也是甜蜜的生活交织的你和我。
五首最经典的浪漫情诗(一) 'We Are Made One with What We Touch and See' by Oscar Wilde《我们与天地合而为一》-- 奥斯卡·王尔德(1854 ~1900)大家可能都知道，王尔德的"风流韵事给他带来了不小的麻烦，还让他受了两年劳役之苦(王尔德是同性恋，曾被指控"与其他男性发生有伤风化的行为--译者注)。
相比诗歌而言，人们可能更熟知他幽默的喜剧和智慧的箴言。
此处所选的这首诗节奏轻松明快，就比如这句："我们把春天深深地印在心底，感受到生命如此美好(We draw the spring into our hearts, and feel that life is good)。
We shall be notes in that great Symphony我们将在这伟大的交响乐章里Whose cadence circles through the rhythmic spheres,与世界脉搏呼吸合而为一And all the live World's throbbing heart shall be与同世间万物悸动的心One with our heart, the stealthy creeping years一起跳动，沉寂阴霾的时代Have lost their terrors now, we shall not die,已经过去，而我们将化为永生The Universe itself shall be our Immortality!因为天地的不朽成就我们的不朽(二)'Bright Star' by John Keats《明亮的星》--约翰·济慈(1795 ~1821)约翰·济慈，英国浪漫时期杰出诗人之一，作品大多基调忧郁。
约翰·济慈（John·Keats）--明亮的星（Bright
约翰·济慈（John·Keats）--明亮的星（Bright Star）明亮的星（Bright Star）是济慈写给⼥友芳妮-布劳恩（Fanny Brawne）的⼀⾸⼗四⾏诗。
在本诗中，济慈采⽤了bright star，the moving waters，snow，love's ripening breast等意象，把关于爱情、死亡和永恒的思想融会在⼀起，表现了⽣活、死亡、爱情和理想等永恒的主题。
Bright Starby John KeatsBright star, would I were steadfast as thou art---Not in lone splendour hung aloft the nightAnd Watching, with eternal lids apart,Like nature's patient, sleepless Eremite,The moving waters at their priestlike taskOf pure ablution round earth's human shores,Or gazing on the new soft-fallen maskOf snow upon the mountains and the moors---No-yet still steadfast, still unchangeable,Pillow'd upon my fair love's ripening breast,To feel for ever its soft fall and swell,Awake for ever in a sweet unrest,Still, still to hear her tender-taken breath,And so live ever---or else swoon to death.[2]明亮的星约翰·济慈明亮的星，但愿我能如你坚定---但并⾮孤独地在夜空闪烁⾼悬，睁着⼀双永不合拢的眼睛，犹如苦修的隐⼠彻夜⽆眠，凝视海⽔冲洗尘世的崖岸，好似牧师⾏施净体的沐浴，或正俯瞰下界的荒原与群⼭被遮盖在轻轻飘落的雪罩⾥---并⾮这样---却永远坚定如故，枕卧在我美丽的爱⼈的胸膛，永远能感到它的轻轻的起伏，永远清醒，在甜蜜的不安中，永远、永远听着她轻柔的呼吸，永远这样⽣活---或昏厥⽽死去。
如何用经典英语诗歌优雅地英语口语和听力？
如何用经典英语诗歌优雅地英语口语和听力？准备参加英语能力考试的同学，都知道想要提高英语能力，需要从听、说、读、写四个方面来针对性学习和训练。
若只是终日抱着真题狼吞虎咽，不免枯燥乏味。
我们可以通过阅读一些经典英语诗歌，一起优雅地练习英文口语和听力。
生活不只有眼前的备考，还有诗歌和远方,可抚慰我们内心的焦灼或寂寥！事实上，学习一种语言的方式可以多种多样。
比如我们从小学习语文，语文的学习相当于是对我们汉语语言能力的培养，回顾我们的语文课本，除了长篇的阅读文章，还有各种诗词歌赋。
学习并朗诵甚至背诵这些朗朗上口、如歌如乐的诗和词，增添了我们学习汉语语言的乐趣。
英语学习也不例外，阅读和背诵一些英文诗歌，既可以帮助我们学习到英语语言文化，同时还能让我们感受到英语语言的美。
为什么呢？因为，诗歌通过其韵律将英语词汇有规律地排列，朗诵诗歌，我们可以听到英语声音的规律起伏；同时，这些短句诗歌，呈现出不同的意境，如果读者想象力足够丰富，这些纸上文字立刻就会转变为有故事有情节的画面。
故，朗读英文诗歌，我们可以优雅地练习英文口语；倾听英文诗歌朗诵，我们可以一边享受美丽的声音，一边练习英语听力。
下面我们一起来欣赏五首英文诗歌，并附上抖森的朗诵音频。
耳朵们，做好准备了吗？Bright StarBy John KeatsBright star,would I were stedfast as thou art—Not in lone splendor hung aloft the night And watching,with eternal lids apart,Like nature’s patient,sleepless Eremite, The moving waters at their priestlike taskOf pure ablution round earth's human shores, Or gazing on the new soft-fallen masqueOf snow upon the mountains and the moors—No—yet still stedfast,still unchangeable, Pillow'd upon my fair love's ripening breast, To feel for ever its soft swell and fall, Awake for ever in a sweet unrest,Still,still to hear her tender-taken breath, And so live ever—or else swoon to death. Love and FriendshipLove and FriendshipBy Emily BranLove is like the wild rose-briar, Friendship like the holly-tree—The holly is dark when the rose-briar blooms But which will bloom most constantly? The wild-rose briar is sweet in the spring, Its summer blossoms scent the air;Yet wait till winter comes againAnd who will call the wild-briar fair?Then scorn the silly rose-wreath nowAnd deck thee with the holly's sheen, That when December blights thy browHe may still leave thy garland green.She Walks in BeautyBy Lord ByronShe walks in beauty,like the night,Of cloudless climes and starry skies；And all that’s best of dark and bright Meet in her aspect and her eyes;Thus mellowed to that tender light Which heaven to gaudy day denies.One shade more,one ray less,Had half impaired the nameless grace Which waves in every raven tress,Or softly lightens o’er her face；Where thoughts serenely sweet express How pure,how dear their dwelling-place．And on that cheek,and o’er that brow, So soft,so calm,yet eloquentThe smiles that win,the tints that glow. But tell of days in goodness spent,A mind at peace with all below,A heart whose love is innocent!There Is a Lady Sweet and Kind AnonymousThere is a lady sweet and kind,Was never face so pleas'd my mind;I did but see her passing by,And yet I love her till I die.Her gesture,motion,and her smiles,Her wit,her voice,my heart beguiles, Beguiles my heart,I know not why,And yet I love her till I die.Her free behaviour,winning looks,Will make a lawyer burn his books;I touch'd her not,alas!not I,And yet I love her till I die.Had I her fast betwixt mine arms,Judge you that think such sports were harms, Were't any harm?no,no,fie,fie,For I will love her till I die.Should I remain confined thereSo long as Phoebus in his sphere,I to request,she to deny,Yet would I love her till I die.Cupid is winged and doth range,Her country so my love doth change:But change she earth,or change she sky,Yet will I love her till I die.When You are OldBy W.B.YeatsWhen you are old and grey and full of sleep, And nodding by the fire,take down this book, And slowly read,and dream of the soft look, Your eyes had once,and of their shadows deep; How many loved your moments of glad grace, And loved your beauty with love false or true, But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you, And loved the sorrows of your changing face; And bending down beside the glowing bars, Murmur,a little sadly,how love fled,And paced upon the mountains overhead, And hid his face amid a crowd of stars.。
济慈诗歌简析及读后感(英文版)
The Experience of Reading John Keats’s poemsPart 1 IntroductionJohn Keats is one of the most distinguished Romantic poets in the history of British literature. Although in his rather short and tough lifetime, Keats received so little financial reward or public recognition, he kept writing. When reading Keats’s poems, I’m completely amazed by his boundless imagination and his incomparably beautiful sentences and now I have a deeper understanding of his attitudes towards life and death.Part 2 Analysis(1) His pursuit for beautyThough Keats lived in a dark period of time and had suffered from heavy illness for quite long before his death, he never stopped his love and pursuit for beauty. And the beautiful realm of nature, life and poetry is the most common theme in the poems that I read.In the poem Ode to a Nightingale, he describes the nightingale as a light winged Dryad of the trees who “singest of summer in full-throated ease” in “some melodious plot of beechen green, and shadows numberless”. Through these lines, we can almost see her graceful look and hear her nice voice. The night scene that Keats describes is also mysterious and amazingly beautiful with “the Queen-Moon”“on her throne”, “clustered around by all her starry Fays”and all kinds of fragrant blossoms such as the white hawthorn, the pastoral eglantine, the violets and the musk-roses. All of these create a kind of intoxicating beauty of nature.Keats’s praise for natural beauty can also be found in the poem To Autumn and On the Grasshopper and the Cricket, where he writes about the stunning view of the “season of mists and mellow fruitfulness” and the “poetry of earth” which “is never dead”.Bright Star is a love song that Keats writes to his lover Fanny Brawne. In this poem, Keats not only writes about the beauty of the bright star, but also writes about his young lover’s “ripening breast”and “tender-taken breath”. From this, we can see Keats’s attachment to the beauty of life and the girl.On First Looking into Chapman’s Homer is a sonnet we learned in class. In this poem Keats shows his admiration for the beauty of poetry itself. After reading Chapman’s Homer, he felt “like some watcher of the skies” looking at a new planet or “like stout Cortez when with eagle eyes”staring at the Pacific Ocean. These figures show Keats’s ecstasy reading the fantastic and powerful lines of Homer’s epics.After my reading experience, I find that almost each pieces of poem written by Keats express his untiring pursuit of beauty, of nature, life, poetry and love. I can hardly imagine how he did it throughout all his misfortunes and sufferings. Maybe the pursuit itself is the motivation that keeps him living, just as he said to Fanny in the movie Bright Star :“A thing of beauty is a joy for ever: its loveliness increases; it will never pass into nothingness.”(2) Imageries and figures of speechThe most impressive thing is Keats’s peerless and infinitive imagination. The imageries in his poems are a perfect combination of the reality and dreams.In the poem Ode to a Nightingale, when he describes the feeling of drink the vintage, he uses the visual image “Flora and the country green”, the auditory image “Provencal song”, the gustatory image “tasting”and the kinesthetic image “dance”. These different kinds of images blend together, forming a marvelous and immersive feeling of drinking vintage in the wonderland of Flora.And in To Autumn, Keats also uses visual images. Such as in the first stanza, “thatch-eves”, “moss’d cottage-trees”and other mellow fruits show the maturity and ripeness of autumn. Auditory images are also perfectly applied. “Gnats mourn”, “full-grown lambs bleat loud”, “hedge-crickets sing”, “red-breast whistles” and “gathering swallows twitter”. The nature’s chorus gives us a perfect performance of the beautiful autumn. Olfactory images like the “fume of poppies” and gustatory images like the “sweet kernel” both add to our desire for the autumn in the wilderness.Strong contrasts are commonly seen in Keat s’s poems. In the poem Ode to a Nightingale, the difference between the nightingale’s ideal world and the ugly real world is obvious. “Happy” and “sorrow”, “mirth”and “despairs”, “singing”and “groan”, “green”and “grey”show the poet’s keen desire to flee the reality to his perfect dreams.Keats also likes to use quotations of ancient history and myths to create a mysterious or solemn atmosphere. In the poem On First Looking into Chapman’s Homer, the figure of ambitious Spanish adventurer Cortez with his “eagle eyes”appears. In Ode to a Nightingale, the story of Ruth (I searched for it online) shows the eternity of the nightingale’s beautiful songs.Similes and Metaphors are like the spirit of Keat s’s poems. They are so widely used in every poem that I cannot list them.(3) His view of mortalityIt was a sad truth that tuberculosis cut Keats’s life off in its prime time. He was forced to think about death even before the flower of his life bloomed. We can see his view of mortality in some of his poems. It surprised me that he didn’t show any agony and fear in face of death. On the contrary, he was quite calm and sober.In his opinion, death is an inevitable process of living beings. It is not the fearful end of life, but a sort of return to nature. It even has its special charm. In the poem Bright Star, he expresses his acceptance of fate to “swoon to death” peacefully in his lover’s arms, to return to nature like a steadfast star. And in Ode to a Nightingale, we can see it is not so hard to face death when the real world is a place full of “the weariness, the fever, and the fret”, where “beauty cannot keep her lustrous eyes”. In the dark, serene kingdom of the nightingale, the poet is almost “half in love with easeful Death”.However, Keats still cherishes life. The nightingale is the bird of eternity in Keats’s poem, and its songs represent the immortal happiness, which may be in Keats’s dreams. Although the reality is dark and dirty, Keats still finds its beauty through natural scenery, his lover’s embrace, the great power of poetry and his wild imagination. To live is still worth yearning for.Maybe it’s just like what he said in his epitaph: “Here lies one whose name was written in water.” His life was so fragile that as you wrote, it dissolved. It faded away even before it was finished. But on the other hand, it was never finished. He just went back to nature with water. His name, together with his masterpieces, will always be carried down human’s history by flowing water with dazzling blaze. Beauty makes him immortal.Part 3 ConclusionThrough the journey of reading Keats poems and watching the film Bright Star, I have a better understanding of this extraordinary poet’s life and mind. My imagination flies aloft with his, and I try to feel his happiness and pain. I begin to know that writing a good poem requires deep perception of life and persistence of seeking truth and beauty. What we need is to read more observe more, feel more, and think more.Poems I Choose1. Ode to a Nightingale2. To Autumn3. Bright Star4. On First Looking int o Chapman’s Homer5. On the Grasshopper and the Cricket。
西方经典爱情诗英文 莎士比亚最美英文情诗翻译
西方经典爱情诗英文莎士比亚最美英文情诗翻译说到爱情，一千个人会有一千个回答。
没人能准确定义爱为何物，它的形状，它的气息，它的颜色，无从捕捉。
但每个人心中都曾有它掠过的涟漪，或时刻准备着迎接某天它的降临。
情诗是美与美的加成，故历史上经典的情诗多之又多：或祝福，或争吵，或错失，或想念，都能使“爱”变得别具一格又刻骨铭心。
今天一起来欣赏时尚最优美的十首英文情诗，去寻找罗曼蒂克的魅力吧~1Sonnet116by William Shakespeare莎士比亚《十四行诗之116》经典段落：Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks.But bears it out even to the edge of doom.If this be error and upon me proved.I never writ,nor no man ever loved.沧桑轮回，爱却长生不改，雄立千秋万世直到末日的尽头。
假如有人能证明我这话说得过火，那就算我从未写诗，世人从未爱过。
2She Walks in Beauty by Lord Byron拜伦《她走在美的光彩中》经典段落：She walks in beauty,like the nightOf cloudless climes and starry skies;And all that’s best of dark and bright；Meet in her aspect and her eyes.她走在美的光彩中，像夜晚皎洁无云而且繁星漫天，黑夜与白天最美妙的色彩，都在她的面容和目光里显现。
3I loved you first:but afterwards your love…by Christina Rossetti罗塞蒂《虽然我先爱你》经典段落：I loved you first,but afterwards your love outsoaring mine, ..For one is both and both are one in love:Rich love knows nought of‘thine that is not mine;Both have the strength and both the length thereof,Both of us,of the love which makes us one.虽然我先爱你，但后来你的爱却超越了我，因为真爱不分你我。
John_Keats
Keats's first book, Poems, was published in 1817. It was about this time Keats started to use his letters as the vehicle of his thoughts of poetry. "Endymion", Keats's first long poem appeared, when he was 21. Keats's greatest works were written in the late 1810s, among them "Lamia", "The Eve of St. Agnes", the great odes including "Ode to a Nightingale", Ode To Autumn" and "Ode on a Grecian Urn". He worked briefly as a theatrical critic for The Champion.
Next year he became a Licentiate of the Society of Apothecaries. Before devoting himself entirely to poetry, Keats worked as a dresser and junior house surgeon. In London he had met the editor of The Examiner, Leigh Hunt, who introduced him to other young Romantics, including Shelley. His poem, "O Solitude", also appeared in The Examiner.
诗人 约翰济慈(英文版)
“Beauty is truth, truth beauty” 美即是真，真即是美
——
Introduction Life Story
Works His Position in English Literature
1.Ode to a Nightingale “夜莺颂“
2.On a Grecian Urn“希腊古 瓮颂”
3. On Melancholy “忧郁颂”
4.
Short Poems
When I have Fear“当我害怕的时候”
TO Autumn “秋颂” On the Grasshopper and the Cricket“蛐蛐与蟋蟀” Bright Star “闪亮的星星”
5. 6.
7.
8. O Solitude “哦，孤独”
1.Endymion《恩底弥 翁》 2.Isabella 《伊莎贝拉》
Five long poems
3.The Eve of St. Agnes 《圣亚尼节前夜》
mia 《莱米亚》
5.Hyperion 《赫坡里 昂》
1.Ode to a Nightingale “夜莺颂”
Introduction
John Keats (1795-1821) >One of the 2nd generation of romantic poets >Famous as Byron and Shelley >Outstanding representative of European Romantic Movement
Bright Star赏析
Bright Star12115 1201214141 贾乃琛This sonnet, "bright star", is the masterpiece of the famous British Romanist poet John Keats （1795-1821）, which shows his infatuation to be with his lover for eternity. This poem broke through some limits in sonnet poems, which took an important position in the poetry field in the short writing career of Keats. John Keats wrote Bright Star around 1819, though it was not published until 1838 after his death. Keats wrote this love poem for his fiancée Fanny Brawne. The poem’s main theme is the love and appreciation of things which are unchanging. This theme is brought up many times in the poem.In the first two lines, Keats shows us that he would love to be around forever and full of life. “Bright star, would I were steadfast as thou art”(1). The bright star symbolizes the everlasting nature of a heavenly body, which hangs in the sky, last forever and unchanging. “Not alone splendour hung aloft the night” (2). This line express the bright star is not alone in its brilliance, but is accompanied by other stars. With this line, Keats emphasize the importance of companionship and the fear of being alone.“And watching, with eternal lids apart,Like nature’s patient, sleepless Ermite” (3-4). Line three shows that if Keats could be a bright star, he would see his love endlessly without losing desire. Line four compares the earth to the bright star. Like the star, the earth is sleepless and, therefore, full of life and lasting forever. He implies the earth’s ability to be unaffected by the events that occur around it. The earth continues its course around the solar system. Keats then continues his poem, “The moving w aters at their priestlike task. Of pure abolution round earth’s human shore’s” (5-6). The water acts as a cleaner to the earth like a priest blesses his children. Keats desires to have this quality in order to earn the advantage of revitalizing himself. “No---yet still stedfast, still unchangeable, Pillowed upon my fair love's ripening breast” (line 9—10), Keats now shows us his real purpose of the poem by describing his emotional journey to be with his lover eternally and without change. His deep emotions appear in line 10 that he want to be as close as possible to his love.“To feel for ever its soft fall and swell, Awake for ever in a sweet unrest”(line 11—12) ，Keats explains that he has yet another desire, in which his lover be alive for eternity. The interpretation of soft fall and swell could only show the precious breaths taken by his lover everyday of her eternal life. Keats describes being with her in a wakeful state forever without the trou bling effects of mortality. “Still, still to hear her tender-taken breath, And so live ever---or else swoon to death.” (Line 13—14) Keats concludes his poem by displaying a powerful statement that if he cannot hear his lover breathe, he would die with .no regrets. Keats shows that as long as he can be with his lover, he will live forever. This is Keats’s feelings towards life that death brings no fear and life means nothing without his lover. Moreover, he realizes that Humans cannot be immortal and love is an essential part of being human.Keats died at the age of 25, he didn't have a good health, so he hope he can live together with his lover, but it's impossible. So when we read the poem, we can feel the poet's sorrow and the believe that love can prevail time and matter.。
济慈简介英文版
Keats learned his poetical art mainly from the poets of the English Renaissance. His literary creation was a clean split with C18th classicism and began with the belief that the revolutionary principles of liberty, equality, and fraternity.
Short poems
Sonnet
Ode
Praise of beauty
Ode to a Nightingale（夜莺颂）
• My heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains • My sense, as though of hemlock I had drunk, • Or emptied some dull opiate to the drains • One minute past, and Lethe-wards had sunk: • ‘Tis not through envy of thy happy lot, • But being too happy in thine happiness, -• That thou, light-winged Dryad of the trees, • In some melodious plot • Of beechen green, and shadows numberless, • Singest of summer in fullthroated ease.
此地长眠者，声名水上书
此地长眠者，声名水上书特别喜欢下雨天，所以前几天北京暴雨，情绪一下又被带回在英国那段阴雨连绵的日子。
很喜欢雨天读济慈，所以枕边放了本他的诗集，随时翻阅。
要知道一年365天，差不多300天英国都在下雨。
有时候想想，英国浪漫主义诗人敏感与阴郁的气质，是不是也得益于英国这鬼天气。
明亮的星你有没有看过《明亮的星》？一段简单的故事，两个小时的电影，三年的时光，随倾慕迅速盛开、又随死亡迅速枯竭的爱情填满了济慈最后的灼灼年华。
这是基于诗人生平真实情况所编剧拍摄的电影：软弱唐突的穷困潦倒诗人一见钟情于强势自私的中产阶级富家女。
Fanny情绪乖张控制欲很强，但面对诗人会柔和到小心翼翼的地步。
似乎剧情发展要落入俗套的晚间八点档爱情剧。
然而，不被欣赏的个人性格特质和被欣赏的凄美爱情，是纠缠着整部电影的矛盾所在。
美丽燃烧的爱情和绝望无奈的生命，令这部电影以感官而不是叙事取胜。
这也恰恰契合了济慈的诗作要体现的感官想象美以及悲情美的特点。
认识Fanny之后，诗人是高产的，并给后世留下了36封写她的情信。
《伊莎贝拉》《海伯利安》《夜莺颂》《希腊古瓮颂》《致秋天》《明亮的星》等都创作于1818年至1820年间。
Fanny全然是济慈的缪斯，是他眼中明亮的星。
Bright star 手稿（这版不是我最爱的抖森朗读版，但无奈qq音乐素材太少，另外一个qq音乐里女声朗读版半夜听了开头真是吓到我了，大家好奇的话，可以搜搜尝试一下）你依旧逍遥这个出生在马厩，父母早亡，身边不断有亲人去世，才华一生得不到承认，25岁死于贫病交加的诗人，爱的特别烈，死的特别静。
他的墓碑上刻着古希腊里拉琴(Lyre诗琴)的浮雕，本该有七根弦，但断了三根只剩下四根，象征了诗人的天才未发挥净尽即被死亡掐断。
碑上遵照济慈的遗愿不刻他的姓名，只刻着他自定的墓志铭：“此地长眠者，声名水上书。
”输入Here lies one whose name was written in water.——John Keats西方有句谚语“人生一世就是把名字写在沙滩上。
john keats(济慈)
1、每当我害怕 2、哦，孤独 3、明亮的星 4、夜莺颂 5、希腊古瓮颂 6、人生的四季 7、给拜伦 8、咏阿丽莎巉岩 9、初读贾浦曼译荷马有感 10、无情的妖女 11、忧郁颂 12、秋颂 13、蝈蝈和蛐蛐
His Position in English Literature
Life Story
He was born in London on October 31, 1795; His father died when he was nine and his mother died when he was fifteen. In the family atmosphere at Clarke's, Keats developed an interest in classics and history which would stay with him throughout his short life. The headmaster's son, Charles Cowden Clarke, would become an important influence, mentor and friend, introducing Keats to Renaissance literature including Tasso, Spenser and Chapman's translations. Published his first book, Poems, in 1817; Died in Rome on February 23, 1821.
Major Literary Works
Produced a variety of work, including epic, lyric （抒情诗）and narrative poems. Odes(颂诗,赋）are regarded as Keats‟s most important and mature works. Lines in Imitation of Spenser《仿斯宾塞》 (1814): his first poem On First Looking into Chapman’s Homer (1816): his first important poem Sleep and Poetry (1817): expression of his own poetic aspirations
著名 情诗 英文
著名情诗英文Title：Famous Love Poems in English LiteratureLove is a universal theme that has captured the hearts and minds of poets for centuries. Some of the most famous and enduring poetry in English literature is centered around the theme of love. These poems express a range of emotions – from passion and desire to heartbreak and longing. In this document, we will explore some of the most renowned love poems in English literature and the poets behind them.1. "Sonnet 18" by William ShakespeareShakespeare's Sonnet 18, often referred to as "Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?", is one of his mostwell-known sonnets. In this sonnet, the speaker compares his beloved to a summer's day, claiming that she is even more beautiful and temperate. The poem's timeless language and themes of love and beauty have made it a favorite among readers for centuries.2. "How Do I Love Thee?" by Elizabeth Barrett BrowningElizabeth Barrett Browning's sonnet, "How Do I Love Thee?", is a beautiful expression of love and devotion. In this poem, the speaker counts the ways in which she loves her beloved, from thedepths and breadth of her soul to the height of her idealism. The poem's heartfelt sincerity and emotional depth have solidified its place as one of the most beloved love poems in English literature.3. "The Good-Morrow" by John DonneJohn Donne's "The Good-Morrow" is a metaphysical poem that explores the transformative power of love. In this poem, the speaker reflects on the profound connection he shares with his beloved, likening it to a new awakening. Through rich imagery and complex metaphors, Donne delves into the depths of romantic love and its ability to bring new meaning and purpose to life.4. "Meeting at Night" by Robert BrowningRobert Browning's "Meeting at Night" is a romantic poem that captures the excitement and anticipation of a clandestine meeting between lovers. Through vivid sensory imagery, Browning paints a picture of a nighttime journey, filled with longing and desire. The poem's evocative language and haunting beauty have made it a classic in the canon of English love poetry.5. "She Walks in Beauty" by Lord ByronLord Byron's "She Walks in Beauty" is a lyrical ode to female beauty and grace. In this poem, the speaker describes a woman of extraordinary beauty, whose grace and poise inspire awe and admiration. Through exquisite language and rhythmic verse, Byron celebrates the timeless allure of feminine beauty and the power it holds over the beholder.6. "To His Coy Mistress" by Andrew MarvellAndrew Marvell's "To His Coy Mistress" is a seductive and passionate poem that urges the speaker's beloved to seize the moment and embrace their love. In this cleverly crafted poem, the speaker uses persuasive language and persuasive imagery to convince his beloved to give in to their desires before time runs out. The poem's wit and urgency make it a captivating exploration of love and mortality.7. "Bright Star" by John KeatsJohn Keats' "Bright Star" is a poignant and contemplative sonnet that explores the enduring nature of love in the face of mortality. In this poem, the speaker addresses a bright star in the sky, symbolizing the steadfastness and constancy of love. Through evocative language and vivid imagery, Keats meditates on the transcendent power of love to endure beyond the limitations of time and space.In conclusion, these famous love poems in English literature represent a diverse range of styles, themes, and emotions. From Shakespeare's timeless sonnets to Browning's heartfelt expressions of devotion, these poems continue to resonate with readers and inspire generations of poets to come. Love, in all its myriad forms, remains a powerful muse for poets, driving them to capture the beauty and complexity of human emotion in verse.。
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Bright StarJohn Keats--------------------------------------------------------------------------------Bright star! would I were steadfast as thou art--Not in lone splendour hung aloft the night,And watching, with eternal lids apart,Like Nature's patient sleepless Eremite,The moving waters at their priestlike taskOf pure ablution round earth's human shores,Or gazing on the new soft fallen maskOf snow upon the mountains and the moors--No--yet still steadfast, still unchangeable,Pillow'd upon my fair love's ripening breast,To feel for ever its soft fall and swell,Awake for ever in a sweet unrest,Still, still to hear her tender-taken breath,And so live ever--or else swoon to death.“灿烂的星”灿烂的星！我祈求象你那样坚定——但我不愿意高悬夜空，独自辉映，并且永恒地睁着眼睛，象自然间耐心的、不眠的隐士，不断望着海滔，那大地的神父，用圣水冲洗人所卜居的岸沿，或者注视飘飞的白雪，象面幕，灿烂、轻盈，覆盖着洼地和高山——呵，不，——我只愿坚定不移地以头枕在爱人酥软的胸脯上，永远感到它舒缓地降落、升起；而醒来，心里充满甜蜜的激荡，不断，不断听着她细腻的呼吸，就这样活着，——或昏迷地死去。
To AutumnJohn Keats--------------------------------------------------------------------------------Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness,Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun; Conspiring with him how to load and blessWith fruit the vines that round the thatch-eves run; To bend with apples the moss'd cottage-trees,And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core;To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells With a sweet kernel; to set budding more,And still more, later flowers for the bees,Until they think warm days will never cease,For summer has o'er-brimm'd their clammy cells.Who hath not seen thee oft amid thy store? Sometimes whoever seeks abroad may findThee sitting careless on a granary floor,Thy hair soft-lifted by the winnowing wind;Or on a half-reap'd furrow sound asleep,Drowsed with the fume of poppies, while thy hookSpares the next swath and all its twined flowers: And sometimes like a gleaner thou dost keep Steady thy laden head across a brook;Or by a cider-press, with patient look,Thou watchest the last oozings, hours by hours.Where are the songs of Spring? Ay, where are they? Think not of them, thou hast thy music too,-- While barred clouds bloom the soft-dying day,And touch the stubble-plains with rosy hue;Then in a wailful choir the small gnats mourn Among the river sallows, borne aloftOr sinking as the light wind lives or dies;And full-grown lambs loud bleat from hilly bourn; Hedge-crickets sing; and now with treble softThe redbreast whistles from a garden-croft,And gathering swallows twitter in the skies.秋颂1雾气洋溢、果实圆熟的秋，你和成熟的太阳成为友伴；你们密谋用累累的珠球，缀满茅屋檐下的葡萄藤蔓；使屋前的老树背负着苹果，让熟味透进果实的心中，使葫芦胀大，鼓起了榛子壳，好塞进甜核；又为了蜜蜂一次一次开放过迟的花朵，使它们以为日子将永远暖和，因为夏季早填满它们的粘巢。
2谁不经常看见你伴着谷仓？在田野里也可以把你找到，弥有时随意坐在打麦场上，让发丝随着簸谷的风轻飘；有时候，为罂粟花香所沉迷，你倒卧在收割一半的田垄，让镰刀歇在下一畦的花旁；或者．像拾穗人越过小溪，你昂首背着谷袋，投下倒影，或者就在榨果架下坐几点钟，你耐心地瞧着徐徐滴下的酒浆。
3啊．春日的歌哪里去了？但不要想这些吧，你也有你的音乐——当波状的云把将逝的一天映照，以胭红抹上残梗散碎的田野，这时啊，河柳下的一群小飞虫就同奏哀音，它们忽而飞高，忽而下落，随着微风的起灭；篱下的蟋蟀在歌唱，在园中红胸的知更鸟就群起呼哨；而群羊在山圈里高声默默咩叫；丛飞的燕子在天空呢喃不歇。
La Belle Dame Sans Merci John Keats--------------------------------------------------------------------------------Ah, what can ail thee, wretched wight,Alone and palely loitering;The sedge is withered from the lake,And no birds sing.Ah, what can ail thee, wretched wight,So haggard and so woe-begone?The squirrel's granary is full,And the harvest's done.I see a lilly on thy brow,With anguish moist and fever dew;And on thy cheek a fading roseFast withereth too.I met a lady in the meadsFull beautiful, a faery's child;Her hair was long, her foot was light,And her eyes were wild.I set her on my pacing steed,And nothing else saw all day long;For sideways would she lean, and singA faery's song.I made a garland for her head,And bracelets too, and fragrant zone;She looked at me as she did love,And made sweet moan.She found me roots of relish sweet,And honey wild, and manna dew;And sure in language strange she said,I love thee true.She took me to her elfin grot,And there she gazed and sighed deep,And there I shut her wild sad eyes--So kissed to sleep.And there we slumbered on the moss,And there I dreamed, ah woe betide,The latest dream I ever dreamedOn the cold hill side.I saw pale kings, and princes too,Pale warriors, death-pale were they all; Who cried--"La belle Dame sans merci Hath thee in thrall!"I saw their starved lips in the gloamWith horrid warning gaped wide,And I awoke, and found me hereOn the cold hill side.And this is why I sojourn hereAlone and palely loitering,Though the sedge is withered from the lake, And no birds sing.无情的妖女骑士啊，是什么苦恼你独自沮丧地游荡？湖中的芦苇已经枯了，也没有鸟儿歌唱！骑士啊，是什么苦恼你，这般憔悴和悲伤？松鼠的小巢贮满食物，庄稼也都进了谷仓。