《chapter 11 诗歌原文the waste land》.doc

The River-Merchant’s Wife: A Letter BY Ezra Pound While my hair was still cut strait across my forehead I played about the front gate, pulling flowers. You came by on bamboo stilts, playing horse, You walked about my seat, playing with blue plums. And we went on living in the village of Chokan: Two small people, without dislike or suspicious. At fourteen I married My Lord you, I never laughed, being bashful. Lowering my head, I looked at the wall. Called to, a thousand times, I never looked back. At fifteen I stopped scowling, I desired my dust to be mingled with yours Forever and forever and forever. Why should I climb the book out? At sixteen you departed, You went into far Ku-to-yen, by the river of swirling eddies. And you have been gone five months. The monkeys make sorrowful noise overhead. You dragged your feet when you went out. By the gate now, the moss is grown, the different mosses, Too deep to clear them away! The leaves fall early this autumn, in wind. The paired butterflies are already yellow with August Over the grass in the West garden; They hurt me. I grow older. If you are coming down through the narrows of the river Kiang, Please let me know beforehand, And I will come out to meet you As far as Cho-fu-sa. 2. 长干行 李白 妾发初覆额，折花门前剧。 郎骑竹马来，绕床弄青梅。 同居长干里，两小无嫌猜。 十四为君妇，羞颜未尝开。 低头向暗壁，千呼不一回。 十五始展眉，愿同尘与灰。 常存抱柱信，岂上望夫台。 十六君远行，瞿塘滟预堆。 五月不可触，猿声天上哀。 门前迟行迹，一一生绿苔。 苔深不能扫，落叶秋风早。 八月蝴蝶黄，双飞西园草。 感此伤妾心，坐愁红颜老。 早晚下三巴，预将书报家。 相迎不道远，直至长沙风。 3. The Snow Man Wallace Stevens One must have a mind of winter To regard the frost and the boughs Of the pine-trees crusted with snow; And have been cold a long time To behold the junipers shagged with ice, The spruces rough in the distant glitter Of the January sun; and not to think Of any misery in the sound of the wind, In the sound of a few leaves, Which is the sound of the land Full of the same wind That is blowing in the same bare place For the listener, who listens in the snow, And, n