情人节的特殊礼物:男神给你读情诗(双语)
Already with thee! tender is the night,
O, for a draught of vintage! that hath been
In such an ecstasy!
Perhaps the self-same song that found a path
To thy high requiem become a sod。
Where but to think is to be full of sorrow
Nor what soft incense hangs upon the boughs,
And purple-stained mouth
Was it a vision, or a waking dream?
Not charioted by Bacchus and his pards,
《夜莺颂》是1818年济慈23岁的作品。那年,诗人患上了肺痨,同时诗人还处于和范妮 布劳恩小姐的热恋中。正如诗人自己说的,他常常想的两件事就是爱情的甜蜜和自己死去的时间。在这样的情况下,诗人情绪激昂,心中充满着悲愤和对生命的渴望。在一个深沉的夜晚,在浓密的树枝下,在鸟儿嘹亮的歌声中,诗人一口气写下了这首8节80多行的《夜莺颂》。
Though the dull brain perplexes and retards
简介:济慈(1795—1821)是19世纪英国著名浪漫主义诗人。生于伦敦一个马夫家庭。由于家境贫困,诗人不满16岁就离校学医,当学徒。1816年,他弃医从文,开始诗歌创作。1817年诗人出版第一本诗集。此后诗人进入诗歌创作的鼎盛时期,先后完成了《伊莎贝拉》、《圣亚尼节前夜》、《许佩里恩》等著名长诗,还有最脍炙人口的《夜莺颂》、《希腊古瓮颂》、《秋赋》等诗歌。也是在1818年,诗人爱上了范妮 布恩小姐,同时诗人的身体状况也开始恶化。在痛苦、贫困和甜蜜交织的状况下,诗人写下了大量的著名诗篇。1821年,诗人前往意大利休养,不久病情加重,年仅25岁就离开了人世。
Darkling I listen; and, for many a time
Tasting of Flora and the country green,
Up the hill-side; and now &0#39;tis buried deep
O for a beaker full of the warm South,
Fast fading violets cover&0#39;d up in leaves;
As she is fam&0#39;d to do, deceiving elf。
Dance, and Provencal song, and sunburnt mirth!
In some melodious plot
Fled is that music:--Do I wake or sleep?
But being too happy in thine happiness,--
Now more than ever seems it rich to die,
Here, where men sit and hear each other groan;
She stood in tears amid the alien corn;
The coming musk-rose, full of dewy wine,
Where Beauty cannot keep her lustrous eyes,
To take into the air my quiet breath;
Thou wast not born for death, immortal Bird!
In ancient days by emperor and clown:
Fade far away, dissolve, and quite forget
Through the sad heart of Ruth, when, sick for home,
本尼迪克特 康伯巴奇Charm&0#39;d magic casements, opening on the foam
Where youth grows pale, and spectre-thin, and dies;
The murmurous haunt of flies on summer eves。
No hungry generations tread thee down;
Of perilous seas, in faery lands forlorn。
《夜莺颂》(约翰 济慈)
Cluster&0#39;d around by all her starry Fays;
That thou, light-winged Dryad of the trees
And mid-May&0#39;s eldest child,
&0#39;Tis not through envy of thy happy lot,
And haply the Queen-Moon is on her throne,
My heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains
Forlorn! the very word is like a bell
Full of the true, the blushful Hippocrene,
In the next valley-glades:
Singest of summer in full-throated ease。
The grass, the thicket, and the fruit-tree wild;
Of beechen green, and shadows numberless,
The voice I hear this passing night was heard
That I might drink, and leave the world unseen,
Away! away! for I will fly to thee,
Where palsy shakes a few, sad, last gray hairs,
To cease upon the midnight with no pain,
The weariness, the fever, and the fret
My sense, as though of hemlock I had drunk,
Or emptied some dull opiate to the drains
What thou among the leaves hast never known,
Wherewith the seasonable month endows
White hawthorn, and the pastoral eglantine;
But on the viewless wings of Poesy,
The same that oft-times hath
Call&0#39;d him soft names in many amused rhyme,
Ode To A Nightingale (John Keats)
While thou art pouring forth thy soul abroad
Cool&0#39;d a long age in the deep-delved earth,
And with thee fade away into the forest dim
And leaden-eyed despairs,
But here there is no light,
I have been half in love with easeful Death,
But, in embalmed darkness, guess each sweet
One minute past, and Lethe-wards had sunk
Adieu! the fancy cannot cheat so well
I cannot see what flowers are at my feet,
Through verdurous glooms and winding mossy ways。
To toll me back from thee to my sole self!
Or new Love pine at them beyond to-morrow。
Save what from heaven is with the breezes blown
Adieu! adieu! thy plaintive anthem fades
Still wouldst thou sing, and I have ears in vain--
Past the near meadows, over the still stream,
With beaded bubbles winking at the brim,
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