彼得昆士弹琴.pptVIP

——Wallace Stevens He was born in Reading, Pennsylvania, educated at Harvard and then New York Law School, and spent most of his life workig as a lawyer for the Hartford insurance company in Connecticut. he won the Pulitzer Prize for Poetry in 1955. I Just as my fingers on these keysMake music, so the self-same sounds On my spirit make a music, too. Music is feeling, then, not sound; And thus it is that what I feel, Here in this room, desiring you, Thinking of your blue-shadowed silk, Is music. It is like the strain Waked in the elders by Susanna; 正当我的手指在键上 弹出声音，这些声音 在我的心中也形成音乐。 因此音乐是感觉，不是声音 因此，此时此地 在这房间里，我渴望你。 想念你蓝幽幽的绸衣， 那就是音乐。它正如苏珊娜 在长者心中唤起的曲调。 Of a green evening, clear and warm, She bathed in her still garden, while The red-eyed elders, watching, felt 绿色的夜晚，清澈，温暖， 她在宁静的花园沐浴，这时 眼睛发红的长者看着，感到 The basses of their beings throb In witching chords, and their thin blood Pulse pizzicati of Hosanna. 他们生命的低音区震荡出， 销魂的和弦,而稀薄的血， 蹦跳着，播出赞美之声。 II In the green water, clear and warm, Susanna lay. She searched The touch of springs, And found Concealed imaginings. She sighed, For so much melody. Upon the bank, she stood In the cool Of spent emotions. She felt, among the leaves, The dew Of old devotions. 绿色的水，清澈，温暖， 苏珊娜躺在水里。 她寻求， 春天的抚摸， 只找到， 隐藏的想象。 她叹息， 因为旋律太多， 她站到岸上。 激情消退， 心绪安宁。 纷纷落叶中，她感到 往昔的忠诚， 如露滴。 She walked upon the grass, Still quavering. The winds were like her maids, On timid feet, Fetching her woven scarves, Yet wavering. A breath upon her hand Muted the night. She turned -- A cymbal crashed, Amid roaring horns. 她在草上走 依然在打颤。 风像她的使女 步履轻轻的跟着， 给她取来 还在抖动的头巾。 一口气吹在她手上 使夜悄然无声。 她转过身———— 一声铙钹（naobo）敲响 号角齐鸣。 III Soon, with a noise like tambourines, Came her attendant Byzantines. They wondered why Susanna cried Against the elders by her side; And as they whispered, the refrain Was like a willow swept by rain. Anon, their lamps uplifted flame Revealed Susanna and her shame