雨季1 (In the Rainy Season)
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风劲雨涟涟,花摧落眼前。
蝉鸣榕树上,老叟忆童年。
The wind is very strong,
And it has rained for long.
Petals are snapped to flop,
And just in front they stop.
The banyan tree is tall,
In which cicadas call.
An old man seems to brood
On his bygone boyhood.
******
风劲雨涟涟,花摧落眼前。
蝉鸣榕树上,老叟忆童年。
The wind is very strong,
And it has rained for long.
Petals are snapped to flop,
And just in front they stop.
The banyan tree is tall,
In which cicadas call.
An old man seems to brood
On his bygone boyhood.
No. XXXI
Thou comest! all is said without a word.
I sit beneath thy looks, as children do
In the noon-sun, with souls that tremble through
Their happy eyelids from an unaverred
Yet prodigal inward joy. Behold, I erred
In that last doubt! and yet I cannot rue
The sin most, but the occasion—that we two
Should for a moment stand unministered
By a mutual presence. Ah, keep near and close,
Thou dovelike help! and, when my fears would rise,
With thy broad heart serenely interpose:
Brood down with thy divine sufficiencies
These thoughts which tremble when bereft of those,
Like callow birds left desert to the skies.
Thou comest! all is said without a word.
I sit beneath thy looks, as children do
In the noon-sun, with souls that tremble through
Their happy eyelids from an unaverred
Yet prodigal inward joy. Behold, I erred
In that last doubt! and yet I cannot rue
The sin most, but the occasion—that we two
Should for a moment stand unministered
By a mutual presence. Ah, keep near and close,
Thou dovelike help! and, when my fears would rise,
With thy broad heart serenely interpose:
Brood down with thy divine sufficiencies
These thoughts which tremble when bereft of those,
Like callow birds left desert to the skies.
#杨洋[超话]#
Aedh Tells Of The Perfect Beauty (by William Butler Yeats)
O cloud-pale eyelids, dream-dimmed eyes
The poets labouring all their days
To build a perfect beauty in rhyme
Are overthrown by a woman's gaze
And by the unlabouring brood of the skies:
And therefore my heart will bow, when dew
Is dropping sleep, until God burn time,
Before the unlabouring stars and you.
(The end)
Aedh Tells Of The Perfect Beauty (by William Butler Yeats)
O cloud-pale eyelids, dream-dimmed eyes
The poets labouring all their days
To build a perfect beauty in rhyme
Are overthrown by a woman's gaze
And by the unlabouring brood of the skies:
And therefore my heart will bow, when dew
Is dropping sleep, until God burn time,
Before the unlabouring stars and you.
(The end)
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