艾美丽·勃朗特的诗。
答案:2 悬赏:40 手机版
解决时间 2021-02-08 03:51
- 提问者网友：半生酒醒
- 2021-02-07 15:47
如上。
最佳答案
- 五星知识达人网友：归鹤鸣
- 2021-02-07 17:22
High waving heather, 'neath stormy blasts bending (December 13, 1836)
High waving heather, 'neath stormy blasts bending,
Midnight and moonlight and bright shining stars;
Darkness and glory rejoicingly blending,
Earth rising to heaven and heaven descending,
Man's spirit away from its drear dongeon sending,
Bursting the fetters and breaking the bars.
All down the mountain sides, wild forest lending
One mighty voice to the life-giving wind;
Rivers their banks in the jubilee rending,
Fast through the valleys a reckless course wending,
Wider and deeper their waters extending,
Leaving a desolate desert behind.
Shining and lowering and swelling and dying,
Changing for ever from midnight to noon;
Roaring like thunder, like soft music sighing,
Shadows on shadows advancing and flying,
Lightning-bright flashes the deep gloom defying,
Coming as swiftly and fading as soon.
Riches I hold in light esteem (March 1, 1841)
Riches I hold in light esteem
And Love I laugh to scorn
And lust of Fame was but a dream
That vanished with the morn–
And if I pray, the only prayer
That moves my lips for me
Is–"Leave the heart that now I bear
And give me liberty."
Yes, as my swift days near their goal
'Tis all that I implore
Through life and death, a chainless soul
With courage to endure!
A Day Dream (March 5, 1844)
On a sunny brae alone I lay
One summer afternoon;
It was the marriage-time of May
With her young lover, June.
From her Mother's heart seemed loath to part
That queen of bridal charms,
But her Father smiled on the fairest child
He ever held in his arms.
The trees did wave their plumy crests,
The glad birds carolled clear;
And I, of all the wedding guests,
Was only sullen there.
There was not one but wished to shun
My aspect void of cheer;
The very grey rocks, looking on,
Asked, "What do you do here?"
And I could utter no reply:
In sooth I did not know
Why I had brought a clouded eye
To greet the general glow.
So, resting on a heathy bank,
I took my heart to me;
And we together sadly sank
Into a reverie.
We thought, "When winter comes again
Where will these bright things be?
All vanished, like a vision vain,
An unreal mockery!
"The birds that now so blithely sing,
Through deserts frozen dry,
Poor spectres of the perished Spring
In famished troops will fly.
"And why should we be glad at all?
The leaf is hardly green,
Before a token of the fall
Is on its surface seen."
Now whether it were really so
I never could be sure-,
But as, in fit of peevish woe,
I stretched me on the moor,
A thousand thousand glancing fires
Seemed kindling in the air;
A thousand thousand silvery lyres
Resounded far and near:
Methought the very breath I breathed
Was full of sparks divine,
And all my heather-couch was wreathed
By that celestial shine.
And while the wide Earth echoing rang
To their strange minstrelsy,
The little glittering spirits sang,
Or seemed to sing, to me:
"0 mortal, mortal, let them die;
Let Time and Tears destroy,
That we may overflow the sky
With universal joy.
"Let Grief distract the sufferer's breast,
And Night obscure his way;
They hasten him to endless rest,
And everlasting day.
"To Thee the world is like a tomb,
A desert's naked shore;
To us, in unimagined bloom,
It brightens more and more.
"And could we lift the veil and give
One brief glimpse to thine eye
Thou would'st rejoice for those that live,
Because they live to die."
The music ceased-the noonday Dream
Like dream of night withdrew
But Fancy still will sometimes deem
Her fond creation true.
To Imagination (September 3, 1844)
Emily personfies Imagination as a physical presence separate from the individual in several poems, including this one.
When weary with the long day's care,
And earthly change from pain to pain,
And lost, and ready to despair,
Thy kind voice calls me back again
0 my true friend, I am not lone
While thou canst speak with such a tone!
So hopeless is the world without,
The world within I doubly prize;
Thy world where guile and hate and doubt
And cold suspicion never rise;
Where thou and I and Liberty
Have undisputed sovereignty.
What matters it that all around
Danger and grief and darkness lie,
If but within our bosom's bound
We hold a bright unsullied sky,
Warm with ten thousand mingled rays
Of suns that know no winter days?
Reason indeed may oft complain
For Nature's sad reality,
And tell the suffering heart how vain
Its cherished dreams must always be;
And Truth may rudely trample down
The flowers of Fancy newly blown.
But thou art ever there to bring
The hovering visions back and breathe
New glories o'er the blighted spring
And call a lovelier life from death,
And whisper with a voice divine
Of real worlds as bright as thine.
I trust not to thy phantom bliss,
Yet still in evening's quiet hour
With never-failing thankfulness I
welcome thee, benignant power,
Sure solacer of human cares
And brighter hope when hope despairs.
R. Alcona to J. Brenzaida (March 3, 1845)
Cold in the earth, and the deep snow piled above thee!
Far, far removed, cold in the dreary grave!
Have I forgot, my Only Love, to love thee,
Severed at last by Time's all-wearing wave?
Now, when alone, do my thoughts no longer hover
Over the mountains on Angora's shore;
Resting their wings where heath and fern-leaves cover
That noble heart for ever, ever more?
Cold in the earth, and fifteen wild Decembers
From those brown hills have melted into spring--
Faithful indeed is the spirit that remembers
After such years of change and suffering!
Sweet Love of youth, forgive if I forget thee
While the World's tide is bearing me along:
Sterner desires and darker hopes beset me,
Hopes which obscure but cannot do thee wrong.
No other Sun has lightened up my heaven;
No other Star has ever shone for me:
All my life's bliss from thy dear life was given
All my life's bliss is in the grave with thee.
But when the days of golden dreams had perished
And even Despair was powerless to destroy,
Then did I learn how existence could be cherished,
Strengthened and fed without the aid of joy;
Then did I check the tears of useless passion,
Weaned my young soul from yearning after thine;
Sternly denied its burning wish to hasten
Down to that tomb already more than mine!
And even yet, I dare not let it languish,
Dare not indulge in Memory's rapturous pain;
Once drinking deep of that divinest anguish,
How could I seek the empty world again?
Death, that struck when I was most confiding (April 10, 1845)
The Gondal title of this poem was "Rosina Alcona to Julius Brenzaida."
Death, that struck when I was most confiding
In my certain Faith of joy to be,
Strike again, Time's withered branch dividing
From the fresh root of Eternity!
Leaves, upon Time's branch, were growing brightly,
Full of sap and full of silver dew;
Birds, beneath its shelter, gathered nightly;
Daily, round its flowers, the wild bees flew.
Sorrow passed and plucked the golden blossom,
Guilt stripped off the foliage in its pride;
But, within its parent's kindly bosom,
Flowed forever Life's restoring tide.
Little mourned I for the parted Gladness,
For the vacant nest and silent song;
Hope was there and laughed me out of sadness,
Whispering, "Winter will not linger long."
And behold, with tenfold increase blessing
Spring adorned the beauty-burdened spray;
Wind and rain and fervent heat caressing
Lavished glory on its second May.
High it rose; no winge'd grief could sweep it;
Sin was scared to distance with its shine:
Love and its own life had power to keep it
From all 'Wrong, from every blight but thine!
Heartless ' Death, the young leaves droop and languish!
Evening's gentle air may still restore–
No: the morning sunshine mocks my anguish
Time for me must never blossom more!
Strike it down, that other boughs may flourish
Where that perished sapling used to be;
Thus, at least, its mouldering corpse will nourish
That from which it sprung-Eternity.
High waving heather, 'neath stormy blasts bending,
Midnight and moonlight and bright shining stars;
Darkness and glory rejoicingly blending,
Earth rising to heaven and heaven descending,
Man's spirit away from its drear dongeon sending,
Bursting the fetters and breaking the bars.
All down the mountain sides, wild forest lending
One mighty voice to the life-giving wind;
Rivers their banks in the jubilee rending,
Fast through the valleys a reckless course wending,
Wider and deeper their waters extending,
Leaving a desolate desert behind.
Shining and lowering and swelling and dying,
Changing for ever from midnight to noon;
Roaring like thunder, like soft music sighing,
Shadows on shadows advancing and flying,
Lightning-bright flashes the deep gloom defying,
Coming as swiftly and fading as soon.
Riches I hold in light esteem (March 1, 1841)
Riches I hold in light esteem
And Love I laugh to scorn
And lust of Fame was but a dream
That vanished with the morn–
And if I pray, the only prayer
That moves my lips for me
Is–"Leave the heart that now I bear
And give me liberty."
Yes, as my swift days near their goal
'Tis all that I implore
Through life and death, a chainless soul
With courage to endure!
A Day Dream (March 5, 1844)
On a sunny brae alone I lay
One summer afternoon;
It was the marriage-time of May
With her young lover, June.
From her Mother's heart seemed loath to part
That queen of bridal charms,
But her Father smiled on the fairest child
He ever held in his arms.
The trees did wave their plumy crests,
The glad birds carolled clear;
And I, of all the wedding guests,
Was only sullen there.
There was not one but wished to shun
My aspect void of cheer;
The very grey rocks, looking on,
Asked, "What do you do here?"
And I could utter no reply:
In sooth I did not know
Why I had brought a clouded eye
To greet the general glow.
So, resting on a heathy bank,
I took my heart to me;
And we together sadly sank
Into a reverie.
We thought, "When winter comes again
Where will these bright things be?
All vanished, like a vision vain,
An unreal mockery!
"The birds that now so blithely sing,
Through deserts frozen dry,
Poor spectres of the perished Spring
In famished troops will fly.
"And why should we be glad at all?
The leaf is hardly green,
Before a token of the fall
Is on its surface seen."
Now whether it were really so
I never could be sure-,
But as, in fit of peevish woe,
I stretched me on the moor,
A thousand thousand glancing fires
Seemed kindling in the air;
A thousand thousand silvery lyres
Resounded far and near:
Methought the very breath I breathed
Was full of sparks divine,
And all my heather-couch was wreathed
By that celestial shine.
And while the wide Earth echoing rang
To their strange minstrelsy,
The little glittering spirits sang,
Or seemed to sing, to me:
"0 mortal, mortal, let them die;
Let Time and Tears destroy,
That we may overflow the sky
With universal joy.
"Let Grief distract the sufferer's breast,
And Night obscure his way;
They hasten him to endless rest,
And everlasting day.
"To Thee the world is like a tomb,
A desert's naked shore;
To us, in unimagined bloom,
It brightens more and more.
"And could we lift the veil and give
One brief glimpse to thine eye
Thou would'st rejoice for those that live,
Because they live to die."
The music ceased-the noonday Dream
Like dream of night withdrew
But Fancy still will sometimes deem
Her fond creation true.
To Imagination (September 3, 1844)
Emily personfies Imagination as a physical presence separate from the individual in several poems, including this one.
When weary with the long day's care,
And earthly change from pain to pain,
And lost, and ready to despair,
Thy kind voice calls me back again
0 my true friend, I am not lone
While thou canst speak with such a tone!
So hopeless is the world without,
The world within I doubly prize;
Thy world where guile and hate and doubt
And cold suspicion never rise;
Where thou and I and Liberty
Have undisputed sovereignty.
What matters it that all around
Danger and grief and darkness lie,
If but within our bosom's bound
We hold a bright unsullied sky,
Warm with ten thousand mingled rays
Of suns that know no winter days?
Reason indeed may oft complain
For Nature's sad reality,
And tell the suffering heart how vain
Its cherished dreams must always be;
And Truth may rudely trample down
The flowers of Fancy newly blown.
But thou art ever there to bring
The hovering visions back and breathe
New glories o'er the blighted spring
And call a lovelier life from death,
And whisper with a voice divine
Of real worlds as bright as thine.
I trust not to thy phantom bliss,
Yet still in evening's quiet hour
With never-failing thankfulness I
welcome thee, benignant power,
Sure solacer of human cares
And brighter hope when hope despairs.
R. Alcona to J. Brenzaida (March 3, 1845)
Cold in the earth, and the deep snow piled above thee!
Far, far removed, cold in the dreary grave!
Have I forgot, my Only Love, to love thee,
Severed at last by Time's all-wearing wave?
Now, when alone, do my thoughts no longer hover
Over the mountains on Angora's shore;
Resting their wings where heath and fern-leaves cover
That noble heart for ever, ever more?
Cold in the earth, and fifteen wild Decembers
From those brown hills have melted into spring--
Faithful indeed is the spirit that remembers
After such years of change and suffering!
Sweet Love of youth, forgive if I forget thee
While the World's tide is bearing me along:
Sterner desires and darker hopes beset me,
Hopes which obscure but cannot do thee wrong.
No other Sun has lightened up my heaven;
No other Star has ever shone for me:
All my life's bliss from thy dear life was given
All my life's bliss is in the grave with thee.
But when the days of golden dreams had perished
And even Despair was powerless to destroy,
Then did I learn how existence could be cherished,
Strengthened and fed without the aid of joy;
Then did I check the tears of useless passion,
Weaned my young soul from yearning after thine;
Sternly denied its burning wish to hasten
Down to that tomb already more than mine!
And even yet, I dare not let it languish,
Dare not indulge in Memory's rapturous pain;
Once drinking deep of that divinest anguish,
How could I seek the empty world again?
Death, that struck when I was most confiding (April 10, 1845)
The Gondal title of this poem was "Rosina Alcona to Julius Brenzaida."
Death, that struck when I was most confiding
In my certain Faith of joy to be,
Strike again, Time's withered branch dividing
From the fresh root of Eternity!
Leaves, upon Time's branch, were growing brightly,
Full of sap and full of silver dew;
Birds, beneath its shelter, gathered nightly;
Daily, round its flowers, the wild bees flew.
Sorrow passed and plucked the golden blossom,
Guilt stripped off the foliage in its pride;
But, within its parent's kindly bosom,
Flowed forever Life's restoring tide.
Little mourned I for the parted Gladness,
For the vacant nest and silent song;
Hope was there and laughed me out of sadness,
Whispering, "Winter will not linger long."
And behold, with tenfold increase blessing
Spring adorned the beauty-burdened spray;
Wind and rain and fervent heat caressing
Lavished glory on its second May.
High it rose; no winge'd grief could sweep it;
Sin was scared to distance with its shine:
Love and its own life had power to keep it
From all 'Wrong, from every blight but thine!
Heartless ' Death, the young leaves droop and languish!
Evening's gentle air may still restore–
No: the morning sunshine mocks my anguish
Time for me must never blossom more!
Strike it down, that other boughs may flourish
Where that perished sapling used to be;
Thus, at least, its mouldering corpse will nourish
That from which it sprung-Eternity.
全部回答
- 1楼网友：拾荒鲤
- 2021-02-07 18:21
忆
你冷吗，在地下，盖着厚厚的积雪 远离人世，在寒冷阴郁的墓里？ 当你终于被隔绝一切的时间隔绝 唯一的爱人啊，我岂能忘了爱你？
如今我已孤单，但难道我的思念 不再徘徊在北方的海岸和山岗， 并歇息在遍地蕨叶和丛丛石南 把你高尚的心永远覆盖的地方？
你在地下已冷，而十五个寒冬 已从棕色的山岗上融成了阳春； 经过这么多年头的变迁和哀痛， 那长相忆的灵魂已够得上忠贞！
青春的甜爱，我若忘了你，请原谅我， 人世之潮正不由自主地把我推送， 别的愿望和别的希望缠住了我， 它们遮掩了你，但不会对你不公！
再没有迟来的光照耀我的天字， 再没有第二个黎明为我发光， 我一生的幸福都是你的生命给予， 我一生的幸福啊，都已和你合葬。
可是，当金色梦中的日子消逝， 就连绝望也未能摧毁整个生活， 于是，我学会了对生活珍惜、支持， 靠其他来充实生活，而不靠欢乐。
我禁止我青春的灵魂对你渴望， 我抑制无用的激情进发的泪滴， 我严拒我对你坟墓的如火的向往—— 那个墓啊，比我自己的更属于自己。
即便如此，我不敢听任灵魂苦思， 不敢迷恋于回忆的剧痛和狂喜； 一旦在那最神圣的痛苦中沉醉， 叫我怎能再寻求这空虚的人世？
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
歌
红雀飞舞在岩石谷中． 百灵在荒野上空高翔， 蜜蜂在石南花间，而花丛 把我美丽的爱人隐藏；
野鹿在她胸口上吃草． 野鸟在那儿做官孵卵， 他们啊——她之所爱， 已经志了她，任她孤单。
我料想，当坟墓的暗墙 刚刚把她的形体图住， 他们曾以为他们的心房 将永远忘却欢乐幸福。
当初他们以为悲哀的潮水 将流遍未来的年代． 但如今哪儿有他们的泪？ 他们的悲痛又安在？
罢了，让他们争夺荣誉之风， 或去追逐欢乐之影， 死之国土的居住者啊 已不同往日，无动于衷。
即使他们永远望着她， 并且哭叫到泪泉枯干， 她也静静睡着，不会回答， 哪怕答以一声长叹。
吹吧，西风，吹这寂寞的坟， 夏天的溪水呀，小声丁冬！ 这儿不需要别的声音 安慰我爱人的梦。
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
希望
希望只是个羞怯的友伴—— 她坐在我的囚牢之外， 以自私者的冷眼旁观 观察我的命运的好歹。
她因胆怯而如此冷酷。 郁闷的一天，我透过铁栏， 想看到我的希望的面目， 却见她立即背转了脸！
像一个假看守在假意监视， 一面敌对一面又暗示和平； 当我哀泣时她吟唱歌词， 当我静听她却噤口无声。
她心如铁石而且虚假。 当我最后的欢乐落英遍地， 见此悲惨的遗物四处抛撒 就连“哀愁”也遗憾不已；
而希望，她本来能悄悄耳语 为痛苦欲狂者搽膏止痛，—— 却伸展双翼向天堂飞去， 一去不回，从此不见影综。
（飞白译）
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
我独自坐着
我独自坐着；夏季的白昼 在微笑的光辉中逝去； 我看见它逝去，我看着它 从迷漫的山丘和无风的草地上消失；
在我的灵魂里思潮迸出， 我的心在它的威力下屈从； 在我的眼睛里泪水如涌， 因为我不能把感情说个分明， 就在那个神圣的、无人干扰的时辰， 我四周的严肃的欢悦悄悄溜进。
我问我自己：“啊，上天为什么 不肯把那珍贵的天赋给我， 那光荣的天赋给了许多人 让他们在诗歌里说出他们的思索！”
“那些梦包围了我，”我说： “就从无忧患的童年的欢快时光起； 狂热的奇想提供出种种幻象 自从生命还在它的风华正茂时期。”
然而如今，当我曾希望歌唱， 我的手指却触动一根无音的弦； 而歌词的叠句仍然是 “不要再奋斗了；一切都是枉然。”
杨苡 译
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
夜晚在我周围暗下来
夜晚在我周围暗下来 狂风冷冷地怒吼， 但有一个蛮横的符咒锁住我， 我不能，不能走。
巨大的树在弯身， 雪压满了它们的枝头； 暴风雪正在迅速降临， 然而我不能走。
我头上乌云密布， 我下面狂洋奔流； 任什么阴郁也不能使我移动， 我不要，也不能走。
我要举报
如以上回答内容为低俗、色情、不良、暴力、侵权、涉及违法等信息，可以点下面链接进行举报！
点此我要举报以上问答信息
大家都在看
推荐资讯