outland poetry
诗选
anthology 诗选
Edna St. Vincent Millay
Whose lips kissed my lips, where Whose lips kissed my lips, where Why, I have forgotten who the arm I looked on until the morning; but tonight the rain Full of ghosts, howling at the window glass, Sighed, listening to my echo, My heart the pain of rolling the serene Because the juvenile had never forgotten Midnight turned to me, call me soon. Lonely tree standing in the winter among the I do not know what kind of bird it disappeared one by one, Only know the branches more deserted than ever before: I can not tell what love is come and gone; Only know that summer sang in me While, now only silence. Zhao Yiheng Translation -------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------ Flee Which I do not care I will be Road; Where this road pass, which I do not care. Just to out of the house, so my heart is broken off; I must go, may also find a place to go. I do not know what my heart, The idea of mind is not clear, But I'm anxious to get up to leave - Where the feet go I do not care. I wish I could go another day, night, When dawn came to a desolate place, Even the way there, the shadow can not see, The roof and people are also faceless eyes. Willing to go the end I was bleeding profusely, Since then not move to a fall Down the wide beach at low tide, Rocky grassland there mercy of the elements. Left to lead me on my way to where Any rubbish, Pier I stride; I curled up dead in a bar ditch, They fuss I do not care. "What happened, dear," she said, "Your work is so boring sitting Why?" "Nothing, Mom, I line a knot. Jug has been in the ring. I'll make tea. " -------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------ Listening to a Beethoven symphony Ah sweet sweet music, you do not stop! Please do not leave me once again pushed back to that world. Only with you, have a beauty and tranquility, Human can believe the target was clear. You're clever and charming tunes kind, Has made hatred, mean and rude to sleep, Cook like the fairy tales that start with the same - Pale face, callous, and spread out his hands. This is the world's most beautiful moment The tree is suffering a quiet out of the flower. Music which, do not forsake me, let me live, Live to my end of the collapse event of the castle - Destroy it in the old men who are fascinated by the sun. Me, I can only music that wall protection. -------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------ Afternoon in the foothills I'll be the happiest person children The sun! I will touch a hundred flowers One will not bruise. I will use the quiet eyes Gaze clouds and cliffs; Bent grass watching the wind blow, Grass re-erect. When the lights of town early release, Floating on the foothills, I will indicate which light is my home Then down the hill venue!
|