艾米·洛威尔的经典诗歌：1777
艾米·洛威尔的经典诗歌：1777
下面是学习啦小编为大家带来艾米·洛威尔的经典诗歌：1777，希望大家喜欢!
I
学习啦在线学习网 The Trumpet-Vine Arbour
学习啦在线学习网 The throats of the little red trumpet-flowers are
学习啦在线学习网 wide open,
学习啦在线学习网 And the clangour of brass beats against the hotsunlight.
They bray and blare at the burning sky.
学习啦在线学习网 Red! Red! Coarse notes of red,
Trumpeted at the blue sky.
In long streaks of sound, molten metal,
学习啦在线学习网 The vine declares itself.
学习啦在线学习网 Clang! -- from its red and yellow trumpets.
Clang! -- from its long, nasal trumpets,
Splitting the sunlight into ribbons, tattered and shot with noise.
学习啦在线学习网 I sit in the cool arbour, in a green-and-gold twilight.
学习啦在线学习网 It is very still, for I cannot hear the trumpets,
学习啦在线学习网 I only know that they are red and open,
And that the sun above the arbour shakes with heat.
My quill is newly mended,
And makes fine-drawn lines with its point.
Down the long, white paper it makes little lines,
学习啦在线学习网 Just lines -- up -- down -- criss-cross.
My heart is strained out at the pin-point of my quill;
It is thin and writhing like the marks of the pen.
My hand marches to a squeaky tune,
学习啦在线学习网 It marches down the paper to a squealing of fifes.
学习啦在线学习网 My pen and the trumpet-flowers,
学习啦在线学习网 And Washington's armies away over the smoke-tree to the Southwest.
学习啦在线学习网 "Yankee Doodle," my Darling! It is you against the British,
Marching in your ragged shoes to batter down King George.
What have you got in your hat? Not a feather, I wager.
Just a hay-straw, for it is the harvest you are fighting for.
Hay in your hat, and the whites of their eyes for a target!
学习啦在线学习网 Like Bunker Hill, two years ago, when I watched all day from the
house-top
学习啦在线学习网 Through Father's spy-glass.
The red city, and the blue, bright water,
学习啦在线学习网 And puffs of smoke which you made.
学习啦在线学习网 Twenty miles away,
Round by Cambridge, or over the Neck,
学习啦在线学习网 But the smoke was white -- white!
To-day the trumpet-flowers are red -- red --
学习啦在线学习网 And I cannot see you fighting,
But old Mr. Dimond has fled to Canada,
学习啦在线学习网 And Myra sings "Yankee Doodle" at her milking.
学习啦在线学习网 The red throats of the trumpets bray and clang in the sunshine,
And the smoke-tree puffs dun blossoms into the blue air.
II
The City of Falling Leaves
Leaves fall,
Brown leaves,
Yellow leaves streaked with brown.
They fall,
Flutter,
Fall again.
学习啦在线学习网 The brown leaves,
学习啦在线学习网 And the streaked yellow leaves,
Loosen on their branches
学习啦在线学习网 And drift slowly downwards.
One,
One, two, three,
One, two, five.
学习啦在线学习网 All Venice is a falling of Autumn leaves --
Brown,
And yellow streaked with brown.
学习啦在线学习网 "That sonnet, Abate,
Beautiful,
学习啦在线学习网 I am quite exhausted by it.
Your phrases turn about my heart
学习啦在线学习网 And stifle me to swooning.
Open the window, I beg.
Lord! What a strumming of fiddles and mandolins!
'Tis really a shame to stop indoors.
学习啦在线学习网 Call my maid, or I will make you lace me yourself.
Fie, how hot it is, not a breath of air!
学习啦在线学习网 See how straight the leaves are falling.
Marianna, I will have the yellow satin caught up with silver fringe,
学习啦在线学习网 It peeps out delightfully from under a mantle.
学习啦在线学习网 Am I well painted to-day, `caro Abate mio'?
You will be proud of me at the `Ridotto', hey?
Proud of being `Cavalier Servente' to such a lady?"
"Can you doubt it, `Bellissima Contessa'?
A pinch more rouge on the right cheek,
And Venus herself shines less . . ."
学习啦在线学习网 "You bore me, Abate,
I vow I must change you!
A letter, Achmet?
Run and look out of the window, Abate.
I will read my letter in peace."
The little black slave with the yellow satin turban
学习啦在线学习网 Gazes at his mistress with strained eyes.
His yellow turban and black skin
学习啦在线学习网 Are gorgeous -- barbaric.
The yellow satin dress with its silver flashings
Lies on a chair
学习啦在线学习网 Beside a black mantle and a black mask.
Yellow and black,
学习啦在线学习网 Gorgeous -- barbaric.
学习啦在线学习网 The lady reads her letter,
And the leaves drift slowly
学习啦在线学习网 Past the long windows.
学习啦在线学习网 "How silly you look, my dear Abate,
With that great brown leaf in your wig.
Pluck it off, I beg you,
Or I shall die of laughing."
学习啦在线学习网 A yellow wall
Aflare in the sunlight,
学习啦在线学习网 Chequered with shadows,
Shadows of vine leaves,
学习啦在线学习网 Shadows of masks.
学习啦在线学习网 Masks coming, printing themselves for an instant,
学习啦在线学习网 Then passing on,
学习啦在线学习网 More masks always replacing them.
Masks with tricorns and rapiers sticking out behind
Pursuing masks with plumes and high heels,
The sunlight shining under their insteps.
One,
One, two,
One, two, three,
学习啦在线学习网 There is a thronging of shadows on the hot wall,
学习啦在线学习网 Filigreed at the top with moving leaves.
Yellow sunlight and black shadows,
学习啦在线学习网 Yellow and black,
Gorgeous -- barbaric.
Two masks stand together,
And the shadow of a leaf falls through them,
学习啦在线学习网 Marking the wall where they are not.
学习啦在线学习网 From hat-tip to shoulder-tip,
学习啦在线学习网 From elbow to sword-hilt,
学习啦在线学习网 The leaf falls.
The shadows mingle,
学习啦在线学习网 Blur together,
Slide along the wall and disappear.
学习啦在线学习网 Gold of mosaics and candles,
学习啦在线学习网 And night blackness lurking in the ceiling beams.
Saint Mark's glitters with flames and reflections.
学习啦在线学习网 A cloak brushes aside,
And the yellow of satin
Licks out over the coloured inlays of the pavement.
Under the gold crucifixes
There is a meeting of hands
Reaching from black mantles.
学习啦在线学习网 Sighing embraces, bold investigations,
Hide in confessionals,
学习啦在线学习网 Sheltered by the shuffling of feet.
Gorgeous -- barbaric
In its mail of jewels and gold,
Saint Mark's looks down at the swarm of black masks;
学习啦在线学习网 And outside in the palace gardens brown leaves fall,
学习啦在线学习网 Flutter,
Fall.
Brown,
And yellow streaked with brown.
学习啦在线学习网 Blue-black, the sky over Venice,
学习啦在线学习网 With a pricking of yellow stars.
学习啦在线学习网 There is no moon,
And the waves push darkly against the prow
Of the gondola,
Coming from Malamocco
And streaming toward Venice.
学习啦在线学习网 It is black under the gondola hood,
But the yellow of a satin dress
Glares out like the eye of a watching tiger.
Yellow compassed about with darkness,
学习啦在线学习网 Yellow and black,
Gorgeous -- barbaric.
学习啦在线学习网 The boatman sings,
It is Tasso that he sings;
The lovers seek each other beneath their mantles,
学习啦在线学习网 And the gondola drifts over the lagoon, aslant to the coming dawn.
But at Malamocco in front,
In Venice behind,
Fall the leaves,
Brown,
And yellow streaked with brown.
学习啦在线学习网 They fall,
学习啦在线学习网 Flutter,
Fall.