Ye Zhi's poetry anthology, complete works ~

Innisfori Island in the middle of the lake

I'm going to get up and go to Innisfori Island,

I'm going to build a hut there, and the branches are made into walls and pasted with mud;

I want to raise a box of bees, plant nine rows of beans, and

live alone in the forest grass where bees are buzzing.

Peace will come to me there, and peace will slowly drip down,

from the veil of the morning to the place where cricket sings;

There was a shimmer in the middle of the night, and it was dyed purple at noon.

At dusk, the cardinals' wings were woven.

I'm about to get up and go, because from morning till night to morning

I can hear the lake lapping on the shore;

whether I stand on the road or on the gray sidewalk,

I always hear it calling in my heart.

(Fei Bai translation)

When you are old

When you are old, white-haired, sleepy and

dozing in front of the stove, please take down this poem,

recite it slowly, and dream of your eyes

the soft light and the faint shadow;

How many people have loved your beauty with sincerity and hypocrisy,

loved your joyful and charming youth,

Only one person loved your pilgrim's heart,

loved the sorrow on your dying face;

When you are hunched by the scorching grate,

you will whisper with a hint of sadness:

The lost love has now stepped on the mountain, and

it is buried in the dense stars.

(translated by Fei Bai)

The swan trees in Cole Manor

are covered with beautiful autumn clothes,

The paths in the forest are dry,

In the twilight of October, running water

reflects the quiet sky,

There are water waves in the stones, and

there are 59 swans swimming.

Since I counted them for the first time,

Nineteen degrees of autumn has passed away.

Before I could count them again, I saw

they all flew at once.

They flapped their wings loudly and

they flew in a big, broken circle.

I stare at these dazzling swans, and

at this moment, I feel a surge of sadness.

Everything has changed. Since the first time I was by the river,

it was just the twilight.

I heard swans flapping their wings on my head,

so my steps were more agile.

Not tired yet, couples

March forward or fly into the air in the cold and friendly river,

their hearts are still young,

no matter where they drift, they

always have passion and win love.

Now they are floating on the quiet water,

mysterious and beautiful,

But one day I woke up and they had already flown away.

Oh, which reed bush,

which pool, and which lakeside will they build,

which will make people pleasing to the eye?

(translated by Qiu Xiaolong)

The Second Coming of Christ

Spinning and spinning on the outward expanding body,

The falcon can no longer hear its master's call.

Everything is scattered, and the center can no longer be maintained.

There is chaos everywhere in the world.

The tide of bloody confusion is surging, and

Pure etiquette is submerged everywhere.

excellent people lose confidence,

bad guys are full of blazing fanaticism.

There is no doubt that the revelation of God will be revealed,

There is no doubt that Christ will come again.

the second coming of Christ! These words haven't been uttered yet.

What is dazzling is the behemoth from the big memory:

In the desert, the shape of a human head and a lion's body,

Staring at each other as indifferently and mercilessly as the sun,

Slowly moving its legs, circling around it,

Angry birds flying in the desert.

The darkness has dropped again. Now I understand

twenty centuries of deep lethargy,

annoying nightmares in the rotating cradle,

what kind of wild beast finally waited for the time,

lazily fell to the holy land to be reincarnated?

(translated by Yuan Kejia)

Rita and Swan

suddenly attacked: on the stumbling girl,

a pair of giant wings were still flapping wildly, a pair of black webbed feet

fondled her thighs, and the goose beak was holding her neck,

and his chest pressed against her chest that she could not escape.

fingers, stunned, how can I

push away the glory of white from my loose legs?

body, falling over in the snow-white rush,

only the strange heartbeat is felt!

There was a shiver in my waist and thigh, from which came

ruins, smoke and flames on the rostrum

and Agamemnon's death.

When she was possessed, the local area was so subdued by the savage blood of the sky

Until the cold beak let her go,

Did she gain his power and knowledge?

(translated by Fei Bai)

At the foot of Bumble Mountain

1

With everything that the saints said around the light wave of Mariotik, they swore that

the witch of Atlas really knew,

said it and made chickens crow.

With those knights and women-body shape and skin color

, they proved that they are really superhuman, and swore that

pale and lanky partners,

forever filled with the air of vitality,

won the integrity of their passion;

At this moment, they are speeding at the dawn in winter.

Benbourben Mountain is the scenery behind them.

these are the gist of what they want to say.

2

Many times, a person died, and a life

was in their two afterlife,

the afterlife of the nation and the afterlife of the soul,

ancient Ireland was familiar with all this.

No matter whether a person died in his bed,

or it was a gunshot that killed him,

and dear.

Although grave diggers have a long work,

Their shovels are sharp and their muscles are strong,

They just buried their people

and pushed them back into the human mind.

3

You have heard Mitchell's prayer voice:

"Lord, closing our times brings war!"

You know, when all the words have been said,

and a person is fighting furiously,

something has fallen from his already blind eyes,

he has completed his incomplete thinking.

So he stood still for a while,

laughed loudly, and his heart was quiet.

Even the smartest people always feel so nervous

because of some kind of violence

before realizing their mission,

knowing their work and choosing their partners.

4

Poets and sculptors, do your work,

Don't let that fashionable painter blindly hide

what his great ancestors did,

Take the human soul to God,

Make him fill the cradle correctly.

Measurement started our strength,

-a typical Egyptian thought of shape,

the shape made by the gentle Fedias.

On the roof of Sistine Chapel,

Michelangelo left a certificate;

There, just a half-awakened Adam

can make women who travel all over the world panic.

At last, her heart is full of passion.

It proves that there is a predetermined purpose.

Before the idea of secret work,

human perfection is actually ordinary.

Italian masters in the 15th century,

when designing the background of God and saints,

always painted gardens, where the soul was peaceful,

everything people saw,

flowers, fragrant leather, and cloudless sky,

much like sleeping people waking up and dreaming,

what they saw seemed so shaped

.

Oh, spin

A bigger dream has vanished,

calvert and Wilson, Blake and Claude,

prepared a rest for people who believe in God,

it was Palmer's words, but after that,

our thoughts were full of chaos and sadness.

5

Irish poets, learn your major well,

sing what is beautifully made,

despise the mystery that has lost its appearance from head to toe,

their heads and hearts lack memory-

humble products on humble beds.

singing about the peasants, then

the country gentleman galloping on horseback,

the holiness of the monks, imitating

the laughter of people who have finished drinking bitter beer;

Singing those joyful jazz and ladies,

that is the most fundamental essence formed in the heroic seven centuries

;

Let your mind think about other days,

in this way, we can still

become invincible Irish in the future.

6

Ye Zhi lies in the middle of Lifu cemetery in Lamke, under the bare Benbourben hill.

An ancestor used to be the rector there.

Many years ago, a church was nearby.

It was an ancient cross by the roadside.

There was no marble tablet or cliche.

On the limestone collected nearby,

are the words carved according to his instructions:

Take a cold look at life and death

Knight, go forward!

I met them at dusk on Easter

in 1916.

They came out of the gray house in the 18th century with lively spirits

and left the counter or desk

.

When I passed them, Ceng Dian nodded

or made meaningless greetings,

or stayed among them for a while,

and had a polite and meaningless conversation.

Before I finished my conversation, I thought of

an ironic story or joke.

In order to sit by the fire in the club,

I said to have fun for a partner,

.

That woman spends her days in

innocent kindness,

her nights in arguments,

until she blushes.

She is young and well-groomed. What sound

is better than her voice,

when she is chasing rabbits?

This man runs a school, and

he can also ride our flying horse.

This other one, his assistant and friend,

also joined him;

His thought is bold and excellent,

And he has a sensitive nature. Maybe

he will finally gain popularity.

This other person is a crude

vain alcoholic, I once thought.

He did some boring things to people close to my heart

, but I want to mention him in this song:

He also resigned from the absurd comedy

;

He is the same as others.

He has changed completely:

A terrible beauty has been born.

Many hearts have only one purpose.

After summer and winter,

they seem to be possessed and turned into rocks.

They want to disturb the fountain of life.

horses coming from the road,

people riding horses, and birds flying from the clouds to the billowing clouds,

change minute by minute;

The shadow of floating clouds falling on the stream

changes minute by minute;

A horseshoe slipped and fell by the water, and

A horse flapped in the water;

The long-legged female grouse dives down,

clucking at the male grouse;

They live minute by minute:

The stone is in the middle of all this.

a sacrifice that lasts too long

can turn the heart into a rock.

oh, when is enough?

That's a matter of heaven. Our business is

mumbling a series of names,

like a mother chanting her children

when sleep finally covers

the limbs that ran wild all day.

is that still the arrival of night?

no, no, not night, but death;

is this death unnecessary?

Because Britain may abide by faith,

no matter what has been said or done.

We know their dreams;

It is enough to know that they dreamed and died

; Why care too much love

to confuse them before they die?

I write them in poems-

McDonagh and Connolly,

Pierce and McBly,

Now and in the future, wherever

there is green on the surface,

it has changed completely:

A terrible beauty has been born.

Cha Liangzheng translated

Balloon of thoughts

(The following two songs are translated by mung beans)

Hands, do as you are told;

The balloon pulling the thought

inflates and floats in the wind

and reaches its narrow hut.

Saints and Camels

Stand up, raise your hand and begin to

pray

for a man who is suffering from tragic pain

In the process of recalling his lost reputation.

A Roman Caesar has also succumbed

under this hump.

Saint

God tries everyone

in different ways.

I shouldn't stop praising, because

I'm hurting myself with a whip

Maybe that night and early morning, I can drive away

Alexander the Greek,

and Augustus? Caesar, after them,

there comes the great deadbeat Alcibad.

Humpty Dumpty

To all the people who stood up in your body and prayed

, I would like to present my gratitude.

The respect given to them is just according to their rank,

but most of them should be left to Alcibad.

note:

alcibiades: c.45-44b.c., statesman and general of Athens.

mung bean translation

sail to Byzantium

It is not a country for the elderly. Young people

are hugging each other; The dying generation,

birds in the tree, are engaged in their singing;

The waterfall of fish, the sea filled with blue and white fish,

Fish, animals or birds, all the summer are praising

all the existence of birth and death.

indulging in the music of the senses, everyone neglects

the monument of eternal reason.

A decaying old man is just a waste,

A tattered coat is propped on a stick,

Unless the soul applauds to sing, it will sing louder for each crack of its skin

;

But there is no school to teach singing, only

to study its splendor recorded in the memorial,

so I traveled across the ocean to

the sacred castle of Byzantium.

oh, wise men! Standing in the sacred fire of God,

it seems to be an ornament inlaid with gold on a mural.

Come out of the sacred fire and spin in the sky.

Please be a teacher who sings for my soul.

Burn my heart out, it is tied to a

dying meat, corroded by desire,

I don't know what it was; Please

collect me into the eternal art arrangement as soon as possible.

Once I am out of nature, I will never get my shape from any natural object.

As long as Greek goldsmiths make patterns with gold glaze and hammered gold,

I will keep the sleepy emperor awake.

Or just sing on the golden branches

Everything in the past, present and future.