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
The Trumpet-Vine Arbour
The throats of the little red trumpet-flowers are
wide open,
And the clangour of brass beats against the hotsunlight.
They bray and blare at the burning sky.
Red! Red! Coarse notes of red,
Trumpeted at the blue sky.
学习啦在线学习网 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.
It is very still, for I cannot hear the trumpets,
I only know that they are red and open,
And that the sun above the arbour shakes with heat.
My quill is newly mended,
学习啦在线学习网 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.
学习啦在线学习网 My hand marches to a squeaky tune,
It marches down the paper to a squealing of fifes.
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.
"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.
学习啦在线学习网 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!
Like Bunker Hill, two years ago, when I watched all day from the
house-top
Through Father's spy-glass.
The red city, and the blue, bright water,
And puffs of smoke which you made.
Twenty miles away,
Round by Cambridge, or over the Neck,
But the smoke was white -- white!
学习啦在线学习网 To-day the trumpet-flowers are red -- red --
学习啦在线学习网 And I cannot see you fighting,
学习啦在线学习网 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
学习啦在线学习网 Leaves fall,
学习啦在线学习网 Brown leaves,
Yellow leaves streaked with brown.
They fall,
Flutter,
Fall again.
The brown leaves,
And the streaked yellow leaves,
学习啦在线学习网 Loosen on their branches
学习啦在线学习网 And drift slowly downwards.
One,
One, two, three,
One, two, five.
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,
学习啦在线学习网 Beautiful,
I am quite exhausted by it.
学习啦在线学习网 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!
学习啦在线学习网 '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.
学习啦在线学习网 Marianna, I will have the yellow satin caught up with silver fringe,
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'?
学习啦在线学习网 You will be proud of me at the `Ridotto', hey?
学习啦在线学习网 Proud of being `Cavalier Servente' to such a lady?"
"Can you doubt it, `Bellissima Contessa'?
学习啦在线学习网 A pinch more rouge on the right cheek,
And Venus herself shines less . . ."
"You bore me, Abate,
学习啦在线学习网 I vow I must change you!
A letter, Achmet?
学习啦在线学习网 Run and look out of the window, Abate.
I will read my letter in peace."
学习啦在线学习网 The little black slave with the yellow satin turban
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
学习啦在线学习网 Lies on a chair
Beside a black mantle and a black mask.
学习啦在线学习网 Yellow and black,
学习啦在线学习网 Gorgeous -- barbaric.
The lady reads her letter,
And the leaves drift slowly
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.
学习啦在线学习网 Pluck it off, I beg you,
Or I shall die of laughing."
A yellow wall
Aflare in the sunlight,
学习啦在线学习网 Chequered with shadows,
学习啦在线学习网 Shadows of vine leaves,
Shadows of masks.
Masks coming, printing themselves for an instant,
Then passing on,
More masks always replacing them.
Masks with tricorns and rapiers sticking out behind
学习啦在线学习网 Pursuing masks with plumes and high heels,
The sunlight shining under their insteps.
One,
学习啦在线学习网 One, two,
One, two, three,
学习啦在线学习网 There is a thronging of shadows on the hot wall,
Filigreed at the top with moving leaves.
学习啦在线学习网 Yellow sunlight and black shadows,
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.
From hat-tip to shoulder-tip,
学习啦在线学习网 From elbow to sword-hilt,
The leaf falls.
The shadows mingle,
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.
学习啦在线学习网 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
学习啦在线学习网 There is a meeting of hands
学习啦在线学习网 Reaching from black mantles.
Sighing embraces, bold investigations,
学习啦在线学习网 Hide in confessionals,
学习啦在线学习网 Sheltered by the shuffling of feet.
Gorgeous -- barbaric
学习啦在线学习网 In its mail of jewels and gold,
学习啦在线学习网 Saint Mark's looks down at the swarm of black masks;
And outside in the palace gardens brown leaves fall,
学习啦在线学习网 Flutter,
Fall.
Brown,
学习啦在线学习网 And yellow streaked with brown.
Blue-black, the sky over Venice,
With a pricking of yellow stars.
There is no moon,
And the waves push darkly against the prow
Of the gondola,
Coming from Malamocco
学习啦在线学习网 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,
Yellow and black,
Gorgeous -- barbaric.
The boatman sings,
学习啦在线学习网 It is Tasso that he sings;
The lovers seek each other beneath their mantles,
And the gondola drifts over the lagoon, aslant to the coming dawn.
学习啦在线学习网 But at Malamocco in front,
学习啦在线学习网 In Venice behind,
Fall the leaves,
Brown,
And yellow streaked with brown.
They fall,
Flutter,
Fall.