Selected foreign poems

1. Fog angle

Hide your mouth in the mirror,

Bow to the pillar of self-esteem,

Grab the fence of the cage:

Dedicate yourself to the darkness,

Say my name and take me to him.

2. Transparent

Don't look for your mouth on my lips

Don't wait for strangers in front of the door

Don't look for tears in your eyes too early.

Seven nights is higher, and red is red.

Seven hearts are deeper, knocking at the door.

Seven roses are later, splashing spring water at night.

3. "You are"

You are my death.

You, I can take it.

When I lost everything

4. In the river

In the future rivers in the north

I cast this net, and you are hesitant and heavy.

Shadows written by stones

5. I can still see you

I can still see you: a response

Among the tentacles of insects that can find their way.

Words are on different ridges.

Your face is scared.

suddenly

There is a lamp that shines like a lamp.

Humble me, just at a certain point.

There, the most painful sentence is, never.

6. Pale voice

Pale voice, stripped from the depths of silence, has nothing.

They use the same name.

You can fall, you can fly.

A world of painful gains

you can

You can confidently

Treat me with snow:

Whenever I stand side by side with mulberry trees

The summer passed slowly,

Its most tender leaves

Scream.

8. the eyes of time

This is the eye of time:

It's leering outside.

From the colorful eyebrows.

Its eyelids are cleaned by flames,

Its tears are steaming.

Blind planetesimals are flying towards it.

Melt on hotter eyelashes:

The world is getting hotter and hotter,

Dead plants germinate and bloom.

9. upright

Standing in a scar

In the shadow, in the air.

Stand, not for anything or anyone.

Unrecognizable,

Just for you.

Everything with a hiding place,

I don't need it either

Language.

10. Death

Death is a flower that blooms only once.

It blooms like this, unlike itself.

You can drive if you want, or you can't drive if you don't.

Here it comes, a big butterfly.

Decorate slender reed stems

Let me make a reed pole, strong enough for it to like.

Selected poems of Ye Zhi

1. Inniss Feili Island in the middle of the lake.

I want to get up and go to Philly Island, innis.

Build a hut there, with branches and walls covered with mud;

I want to keep a box of bees and grow nine rows of beans.

Living alone in the forest and grassland where bees are buzzing.

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

Slip from the veil in the morning to the place where crickets sing;

It shimmers in the middle of the night and turns purple at noon.

Evening is full of cardinals' wings.

I have to get up and go, because from morning to night, from night to morning.

I heard the lake lapping gently against the coast;

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

I always hear it calling in my heart.

2. When you are old

When you are old, gray-haired and sleepy,

Take a nap in front of the stove, please take down this poem.

Back slowly, dreaming of your eyes.

Soft light and faint shadows;

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

Love your happy and charming youth,

Only one person loves your pilgrim heart,

Love the sadness on your face.

When you lean over the burning fireplace,

You will speak softly, with a hint of sadness:

The lost love has now set foot on the mountain.

Hide its face in a dense cluster of stars.

3. Swan in Cole Manor

The trees are covered with beautiful autumn clothes.

The path in the forest is very dry,

October dusk, flowing water

Reflect the quiet sky,

There are ripples on the stone,

Fifty-nine swans are swimming.

Ever since I first counted them,

Nineteen degrees of autumn has passed,

I saw it before I could count it again.

They all flew at once.

Flapping their wings loudly,

Form a big and broken circle to fly.

I stared at these dazzling swans,

At the moment, I feel a surge of sadness.

Everything has changed, since the first time by the river,

It's also dusk,

I heard swans flapping their wings on my head.

So the pace is more agile.

Not tired, lovers,

In the cold and friendly river

Forward or spread your wings and fly into the air,

Their hearts are still young,

Wherever they drift, they

Always have passion and win love.

Now they are floating on the calm water,

Mysterious, beautiful and moving,

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

Oh, which reeds will they live in,

Which pool, which lake,

Is it pleasing to the eye?

4. The Return of Christ

Rotating on an outwardly expanding rotating body,

Falcons can no longer hear their master's call.

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

The world is full of chaos,

The tide of bloody chaos is surging,

Innocent manners are everywhere;

Excellent people lose confidence,

The bad guys are full of fiery fanaticism.

There is no doubt that God's revelation is coming.

There is no doubt that Christ will come back.

The return of Christ! These words haven't been said yet,

Dazzling is the beast from the big memory:

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

As cold as the sun,

Move your leg slowly and it will turn in circles.

Angry birds fly in the desert.

Darkness came again, and now I understand.

Twenty centuries of deep lethargy,

Had an annoying nightmare in the rotating cradle,

What kind of crazy beast, finally wait until the time,

Lazily fall into the holy land and be reborn?

5. Rita and Swan

Sudden attack: on the tottering girl,

A pair of huge wings are still flapping, a pair of black webbed,

Touching her thigh, the goose beak holding her neck,

His chest clings to hers.

Fingers, in a daze, how can I have the ability?

Push Bai Rong away from his loose legs?

Bodies, overturned in white waves,

I only feel a strange heartbeat!

My waist and thighs trembled. It came out.

Broken walls, the podium is full of smoke and flames.

And the death of Agamemnon.

When she was possessed.

The local area was conquered by the blood in the sky.

Until the cold beak let her go,

Did she gain his strength and knowledge?

6. Bai Niao

Dear, I hope we are a white bird on the waves!

The meteor is not dead yet, and we are tired of its shining;

The sky is low, and the light of the blue star flashes in the morning light.

Awaken you and me, an immortal sadness.

A little drowsiness escapes from lily and rose dreams wet with dew;

Oh, dear, don't dream of the meteor shining.

Don't dream that the light of the blue star lingers in the dew;

I hope we can be Bai Niao on the waves: me and you!

I am troubled by countless islands and Dannan Lake.

Where time will forget us and sorrow will no longer come;

Will soon be far away from the erosion of rose and lily starlight.

As long as we are Bai Niao, my dear, wandering in the waves!

7. Indian love songs

In the morning light, the island slept soundly,

Huge branches dripping silently;

Peacocks dance on the smooth lawn,

A parrot swayed on the branch,

Shouting at his own figure on the mirror-like sea.

We're going to anchor a lonely ship here,

Wandering arm in arm forever,

Whispers from lips to lips,

Along the grass, along the sand dunes,

Tell how far the restless land is:

In the secular world, only the two of us are hiding far away under a quiet tree.

Our love has grown into an Indian star,

The fire of the burning heart,

There are sparkling tides and twinkling wings in my heart.

Heavy branches and wild pigeons with kind feathers lamented for one hundred days:

How will the soul wander after we die,

At that time, the silence of dusk enveloped the sky.

The dim phosphorescence of the sea reflects fuzzy footprints.

8. sail for Byzantium

That's not a country for the elderly. young people

Hug each other; The dying generation,

Birds in the tree are singing;

Fish waterfall, the sea is full of blue and white fish,

Fish, animals or birds, praise the whole summer,

Everything that exists in life and death.

Addicted to the music of the senses, everyone neglected.

An eternal monument to reason.

An aging old man is just a waste,

It was a tattered coat propped on a stick,

Unless the soul clapped its hands and sang, for its sake.

Every crack in the skin sings louder;

But there is no school to teach singing, only

Study the glory recorded on the monument,

So I crossed the ocean to come here.

The sacred castle of Byzantium.

Oh, smart guy! Standing in the flame of God,

Like the golden eagle on the mural,

Coming out of the divine fire, spinning in the sky,

Please be the singing teacher of my soul.

Burning my heart, it's tied to a

Dying flesh, corroded by desire,

I don't know what it used to be; Please ... as soon as possible

Collect me into the eternal artistic arrangement.

Once I'm divorced from nature, I won't be divorced from it.

Any natural object has my shape,

As long as the Greek goldsmith used gold glaze

Hammer gold,

Supply the sleepy emperor to stay awake;

Or sing on a golden branch

Everything past, present and future.

The nobles and ladies of Byzantium

9. Go down through Liuyuan

My lover once met me in Liuyuan,

Her snow-white feet pass through the willows.

She wants me to love simply, just like a tree spits out new buds.

But I, young and ignorant, never listen to her.

My lover once stood with me in the field by the river.

You lean on my shoulder and hold out your snow-white hand.

She let me live a simple life, like grass growing on a weir;

But I was young and ignorant then, and now my face is full of tears.

10. saints and camels

Stand up, raise your hand and start praying,

For a man who has suffered greatly,

In the process of recalling his lost reputation.

A Roman Caesar also gave in,

Under this hump.

sage

God tests everyone,

According to various ways.

I shouldn't stop praising, because I am hurting myself with a whip.

Maybe that night and early in the morning, I can drive away.

Alexander the Greek hidden in my body,

Augustus Caesar, after them,

Then there's the great deadbeat Alsi Budd.

hunchback

For all the people standing in your body,

And I want to express my gratitude to those who pray and pray.

Give them respect only according to their rank,

But the vast majority will be left to Alsi Budd.

Selected poems of Sylvia Plath

1. Sheep in the fog

The hillside is hidden in a white barrier.

A crowd or constellation.

Staring at me sadly, I let them down.

The train left a breath.

Oh, the color of the dark rusty horse

Sad bells of horseshoes

All morning

It will be dark in the morning.

A flower still exists.

My bones support the silence in the distance.

The wilderness melted my heart.

They threatened to wear it to heaven.

No stars, no father, black water

2. Postman

Is the snail's words in that leaf?

That's not mine. Do not take it.

Is the sour taste of vinegar sealed in a can?

Do not take it. That's not true.

Is there a sun in the gold ring?

Lies, lies and pain.

The frost on the leaves crackled with the clean cauldron.

Nine black people in the Alps

Talking to myself on the mountain peak.

There is confusion in the mirror.

The sea broke its gray eyes-

Love, love, my season.

3. Language

The axe cut into the forest.

An echo!

The echo overflowed like a horseshoe.

Tears gushed from the sap, like squeezed water drops,

Put a mirror on the rock,

Drop by drop, a white skull,

Submerged in green weeds.

Many years later, I saw them again at the intersection.

Language has dried up and is no longer rushing.

Although the hoofbeat is endless,

Just, from the bottom of the pool,

Stationary constellations suggest life.

4. Edge

This woman is perfect,

Her death,

A smiling body,

Greek tragic ending,

Feet seem to be talking,

We come from far away, and now we are at the station.

Every dead child curled up like a nest of white snakes.

Everyone has a small empty milk can.

It held them in its arms,

Like a rose with its petals closed,

It's freezing in the garden.

The light of death overflowed from the sweet and deep throat.

The moon is no longer sad,

A blood clot was expelled from her bone.

It is used to this kind of thing.

The long black dress dragged slowly and rattled.

5. Words

An axe, a blow to a wooden clock,

After the echo!

The echo is scattered, far from the midpoint, like a horse.

Vitality, in the form of tears,

Like a clear spring rushing out and falling on the stone,

Water drops and ripples, bones,

Swallowed by crazy green.

A few years later,

I met them on the road.

Words are poor and ownerless,

Endless hooves,

From the bottom of the pond, staring at the stars,

Dominate a life.

6. Trees in Winter

In the wet dawn, blue and black water is melting blue and black.

Trees look like plant paintings on blotting paper.

Memories are growing, circle after circle, a series of weddings.

I don't know about abortion and resentment,

More real than women,

They sow seeds so easily,

Taste the wind without feet,

Semi-immersed in history are the wings of another world.

At this point, they are Lida (1).

Ah, leaves and lovely mother,

Who are these Madonna statues mourning Jesus?

The shadow of the turtledove is singing a poem, which doesn't help solve their troubles.

(1) Rita was raped by Jupiter who turned into a swan.

7. Cross the lake

Black lake, black boat, two people cut out of black paper.

Where's the black tree drinking here?

Their shadows must have extended all the way to Canada.

Lotus leaks a little light from it,

Lotus leaves won't let us cross;

Flat leaves always give people gloomy advice.

Shake a cold world from the paddle,

We have black spirits, and so do fish.

A broken stump raised his pale hand to say goodbye;

Stars bloom among floating lotus flowers,

Sai Ren's deadpan didn't turn you into a stone?

This is the unique silence of a stunned soul.

8. giants

Put it all together, I don't recognize you either,

Broken bonds and integral connections.

The noise of donkeys and mules, the snoring of pigs and the waves of ladies,

From your huge lips

Worse than the clearing in front of the warehouse.

Maybe you see yourself as an angel,

A spokesman for the dead, or a god or something.

In order to dig the mud out of your throat,

I have worked hard for thirty years.

I still don't understand.

Cut out a small ladder from a plastic jar and an enamel.

I crawled slowly like a dirty ant.

Climb over the overgrown wasteland like your forehead,

Repair large slag shell metal plate,

To clean your eyes, the crumbling desolate grave.

The blue sky outside the forest,

Cover us with an arched roof.

Father, everything about you is as simple and historic as Rome Square.

I started my lunch in a tree covered with pines and cypresses. You have a sunken bone.

9. Poppies in July

Little poppy, little hell fire,

Don't you hurt people?

You're flashing. I can't touch you.

I put my hand into the fire. Not burnt.

Watching you blink like that

I feel weak, wrinkled and bright red.

Like human lips.

It's just a bleeding lip.

Bloody little skirt!

I don't smell smoke.

Where are your opium and disgusting containers?

I wish I could bleed or sleep!

I wish my lips could marry such a wound!

Or your juice seeps into my body,

It makes people in this glass container dull and calm.

But it is colorless. Colorless.