關(guān)于英文版唐朝詩歌欣賞
英語詩歌同建筑藝術(shù)一樣,也需要追求外在的視覺藝術(shù)和造型藝術(shù),講究外部的象形、對稱、參差和魅力,所以詩歌語言也具有建筑藝術(shù)美感。小編精心收集了關(guān)于英文版唐朝詩歌,供大家欣賞學(xué)習(xí)!
關(guān)于英文版唐朝詩歌篇1
石魚湖上醉歌并序
元結(jié)
漫叟以公田米釀酒,因休暇,則載酒于湖上, 時(shí)取一醉;歡醉中,據(jù)湖岸,引臂向魚取酒, 使舫載之,遍飲坐者。意疑倚巴丘,酌于君山 之上,諸子環(huán)洞庭而坐,酒舫泛泛然,觸波濤 而往來者,乃作歌以長之。
石魚湖, 似洞庭,
夏水欲滿君山青。
山為樽, 水為沼,
酒徒歷歷坐洲鳥。
長風(fēng)連日作大浪, 不能廢人運(yùn)酒舫。
我持長瓢坐巴丘, 酌飲四座以散愁。
a drinking song at stone-fish lake
yuan jie
i have used grain from the public fields, for distilling wine. after my office hours i have the wine loaded on a boat and then i seat my friends on the bank of the lake. the little wine-boats come to each of us and supply us with wine. we seem to be drinking on pa islet in lake dongting. and i write this poem.
stone-fish lake is like lake dongting --
when the top of zun is green and the summer tide is rising.
...with the mountain for a table, and the lake a fount of wine,
the tipplers all are settled along the sandy shore.
though a stiff wind for days has roughened the water,
wine-boats constantly arrive....
i have a long-necked gourd and, happy on ba island,
i am pouring a drink in every direction doing away with care.
關(guān)于英文版唐朝詩歌篇2
夜歸鹿門山歌
孟浩然
山寺鐘鳴晝已昏, 漁梁渡頭爭渡喧。
人隨沙路向江村, 余亦乘舟歸鹿門。
鹿門月照開煙樹, 忽到龐公棲隱處。
巖扉松徑長寂寥, 惟有幽人自來去。
returning at night to lumen mountain
meng haoran
a bell in the mountain-temple sounds the coming of night.
i hear people at the fishing-town stumble aboard the ferry,
while others follow the sand-bank to their homes along the river.
...i also take a boat and am bound for lumen mountain --
and soon the lumen moonlight is piercing misty trees.
i have come, before i know it, upon an ancient hermitage,
the thatch door, the piney path, the solitude, the quiet,
where a hermit lives and moves, never needing a companion.
關(guān)于英文版唐朝詩歌篇3
白雪歌送武判官歸京
岑參
北風(fēng)卷地白草折, 胡天八月即飛雪;
忽如一夜春風(fēng)來, 千樹萬樹梨花開。
散入珠簾濕羅幕, 狐裘不暖錦衾薄。
將軍角弓不得控, 都護(hù)鐵衣冷猶著。
瀚海闌干百丈冰, 愁云黲淡萬里凝。
中軍置酒飲歸客, 胡琴琵琶與羌笛。
紛紛暮雪下轅門, 風(fēng)掣紅旗凍不翻。
輪臺東門送君去, 去時(shí)雪滿天山路;
山回路轉(zhuǎn)不見君, 雪上空留馬行處。
a song of white snow in farewell to field-clerk wu going home
cen can
the north wind rolls the white grasses and breaks them;
and the eighth-month snow across the tartar sky
is like a spring gale, come up in the night,
blowing open the petals of ten thousand peartrees.
it enters the pearl blinds, it wets the silk curtains;
a fur coat feels cold, a cotton mat flimsy;
bows become rigid, can hardly be drawn
and the metal of armour congeals on the men;
the sand-sea deepens with fathomless ice,
and darkness masses its endless clouds;
but we drink to our guest bound home from camp,
and play him barbarian lutes, guitars, harps;
till at dusk, when the drifts are crushing our tents
and our frozen red flags cannot flutter in the wind,
we watch him through wheel-tower gate going eastward.
into the snow-mounds of heaven-peak road....
and then he disappears at the turn of the pass,
leaving behind him only hoof-prints.
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