Seasonal Poems of Foreign Poets

1. Ask some famous sentences about winter from foreign poets ~~ 1. Your sunshine smiles at my heart in winter.

Never doubt its spring flowers.

-(India) Tagore's bird

2. The poetry of the earth never stops:

In/lonely winter/night, when/cold condenses/

It's quiet. It bounces off the fireplace.

Crickets' songs, in the/rising heating,

In sleepiness, people feel/that sound.

Like a grasshopper/singing on a grassy mountain. -(British) Keats' Cricket and Cricket

3. The trembling wings of ants in winter

Waiting for the cold winter to end.

I love you in a slow and stupid way,

Hardly speak, just a few words. -(America) Bly's Winter Poems

If winter comes, can spring be far behind? -(British) Shelley

2. Sentences about autumn written by foreign poets (for Cyril Connolly) Author: Auden View the author profile >; & gt

The waves beat against the dock;

Heavy rain in the wilderness

Beat an abandoned train;

Gangsters crowded the cave.

The illusion is all over the evening dress;

Treasury agent passed

Sewers in remote towns

Chasing the absconding tax evaders.

The secret ritual of magical desire

The prostitute in the temple fell asleep;

All scholars and scholars

Everyone has an imaginary friend.

Lofty and exciting Cardo

May praise ancient discipline,

But the stiff navy mutiny.

This is for food and wages.

How warm Caesar's double bed is.

Be a clerk.

In the formal form of pink

Write "I don't like my job".

Wealth or pity is not given,

Little bird with red legs,

Squatting on their spotted eggs,

Look at every city where the flu is rampant.

Move away together, countless

Herds of reindeer pass through.

Golden moss after golden moss,

Silent.

1940

Akimatsu

keats

1

There is fog and ripe fruit in autumn.

You become friends with the mature sun;

You conspired to use countless beads,

The eaves of Mao are covered with vines;

Let the old tree in front of the house bear apples,

Let the ripe taste penetrate into the heart of the fruit,

Make the gourd swell the hazelnut shell,

Good into the sweet core; It's too late for bees to bloom again and again,

Let them think that the days will be warm forever, because summer fills their sticky nests early.

2

Who doesn't often see you with the barn?

You can also find it in the fields.

Mi sometimes sits on the threshing floor at will,

Let the hair flutter gently with the wind of winnowing the grain;

Sometimes, addicted to the fragrance of poppies,

You're lying on a half-harvested ridge,

Let the sickle rest next to the flowers in the flower bed next door;

Or, like a gleaner across a stream,

You hold your head high, carry a grain bag, and cast your reflection.

Or sit under a fruit juicer for hours,

You patiently looked at the slowly dripping wine slurry.

three

Ah. Where is Haruka?

But don't think about it, you also have your music-when the wavy clouds reflect a dying day,

Wipe the scattered fields with cinnabar,

At this time, a group of small flying insects under the river willows played a mourning together.

They fly high and fall with the wind;

Crickets under the fence are singing, and robins with red breasts are whistling in the garden;

And the sheep bleated loudly and silently in the mountain circle;

Swallows in Cong Fei are whispering in the sky.

3. Sentences about autumn written by foreign poets (for Cyril Connolly) Author: Auden View the author profile >; & gt The waves beat against the pier; The heavy rain in the wilderness whipped an abandoned train; Gangsters crowded the cave.

The illusion is all over the evening dress; Agents of the Ministry of Finance chased tax evaders who fled through sewers in remote towns. The secret ceremony of magic makes prostitutes in temples sleep; All scholars have an imaginary friend.

The lofty and exciting Cardo may praise the ancient discipline, but the rigid navy soldiers defected for food and salary. How warm Caesar's double bed was when a trivial clerk wrote "I don't like my job" on a pink official form.

Wealth and tide wait for no man, red-legged bird, squatting on its spotted eggs, watching every city where the flu is rampant. Leaving together, countless reindeer herds pass through one golden moss after another, silently and quickly.

1940 Autumn Ode to Keats 1 In the foggy and mature autumn, you become friends with the mature sun; You plot to cover the vines under the eaves with countless beads of Buddha; Let the old tree in front of the house carry the apples, let the ripe taste penetrate into the core of the fruit, let the gourd swell, swell out the hazelnut shell and stuff it into the sweet core; For bees, flowers that bloom too late again and again make them think that the days will be warm forever, because summer fills their sticky nests early. Who doesn't often see you with the barn? You can also find it in the fields. Sometimes I will sit on the threshing floor at will and let my hair float lightly with the wind. Sometimes, fascinated by the smell of poppies, you lie on the half-harvested ridge and let the sickle rest next to the flowers in the next border; Or, like a gleaner crossing a stream, you hold your head high with a grain bag on your back and cast a reflection, or just sit under the fruit for a few minutes and watch the slowly dripping wine slurry patiently.

Ah. Where are the songs of spring? But don't think, you also have your music-when the wavy clouds reflect a dying day, the fields with broken stems are covered with scarlet, and then a group of small flying insects will sing together under the river willow, and they will rise and fall with the breeze; Crickets under the fence are singing, and robins with red breasts are whistling in the garden; And the sheep bleated loudly and silently in the mountain circle; Swallows in Cong Fei are whispering in the sky.

4. Poets' seasonal description poems in Tang Dynasty.

Jianghan spring breeze, frost removed last night.

Tang Du's Farewell to Sister Guan Ying and so on.

Spring is a city, but the color is a little cold.

Tang Du Fu's "Seeing off the 19 th Cao Chang": "Last night, there was a loud thunder in Jiangpu, and the spring city was slightly cold."

There is new fire in the morning and new smoke in the lake.

Chao: Good morning.

Two Qingming Poems by Du Fu in Tang Dynasty

Just like the spring breeze deceives each other, blowing off a few flowers at night.

Tang Du Fu's "Nine Poems Wandering"

The east wind is a good messenger of the sun, and the vegetation meets the flowers.

Yang He: The warm wind in spring.

Qi's "Spring Suburb"

Swallows don't return to the Spring Festival Evening, and it's a misty rain and apricot blossoms.

Ting: The seashore is flat.

Don Dai Shulun's Suxi Pavilion

The poet Jing Qing is in the Spring Festival, and the green willows and yellow are half uneven.

Half; Majority. Uneven: uneven.

Early Spring in the East of the City by Tang Dynasty

The Yangtze River is green in spring and lotus leaves are as big as money.

Tang Zhangji's Spring Biequ

Sometimes it rains at three or two, and there are ten five flowers everywhere.

This is a description of the scenery during the Qingming Festival.

Two Kinds of Cold Foods in Tang Dynasty

I only think of two foreign modern poems describing autumn, which are related to autumn. When I get home and look through these books, if there are any, I'll make up for them. ...

Walking in late autumn

Frost (USA 1874- 1963)

When I walk in the field of harvest,

I can't see the crops, they are empty,

It lies quietly, like a hut with dew,

The road leading to the garden is desolate.

When I walked into the garden along the path,

I heard the sound of broken grass between the awnings.

There were waves of sad birdsong,

More touching than any lamentation.

There is a bare tree by the garden wall.

The dying solitary leaves have turned yellow,

It must have been disturbed by my thoughts,

Gently fall and make a rubbing sound.

I didn't walk far in the garden,

I am in the middle of a broken flower.

Picked a bunch of pale blue chrysanthemums,

Dedicated to you again.

I like the last paragraph of this song best. Very artistic and beautiful ~ ~)

Qiu Turgenev (Russia)

Like sad eyes, I love autumn.

On a foggy and quiet day

I often go to the woods and sit there-

It looks like a white sky

The top of the dark pine forest.

I like chewing sour leaves,

Lying on the grass, with a lazy smile,

Listen to the shrill cries of woodpeckers.

I'm thinking about all kinds of strange fantasies.

The grass has withered ... I'm going.

A layer of cold light appeared. ...

My whole heart is addicted to

Freedom to be happy and sad ...

What, I don't remember?

What fantasy didn't come to visit me?

The pine forest bent down like a living person,

Make noise during meditation ...

Then, suddenly, a gust of wind blew.

Like a flock of big birds,

Between the dark branches,

Shouting impatiently.

(1842) translated by Ge Baoquan.

This song is about autumn and should meet your requirements. )

6. With regard to seasonal poems, I want to know how many flowers have been broken, the balcony is reflected in the pond, and birds are singing everywhere around me.

But now I still remember that night, that storm, the frosted leaves were redder than the flowers in February.

Summer in the mountain pavilion

Gaopian

Dark green trees and long summer days have blown open the petals of ten thousand pear trees, and In the snow has floated across the sky of Tatar.

Mountain travel

Dondum

Far from Hanshan Mountain, the stone path is inclined.

The crystal curtains are blowing gently, and the roses are fragrant.

Like a strong wind in spring, it blows at night.

A song of snow sent Tian Shuji Wu home.

Don Cen Can

The north wind folds white grass, and there are people in the depths of white clouds.

Stop and sit in Love and LAM Raymond Evening News "Chunxiao"

Tang Meng Hao ran

I slept well and didn't know that the dawn of spring had come.

7. Poems about nature written by foreign poets in Ye Saining, Russia.

The river is asleep,

The dark pine forest lost its noise.

The nightingale's song is silent,

Long-legged crake no longer crows happily.

When night falls, it's quiet,

I can only hear the stream singing softly.

The bright moon shines,

Silver everything around you.

The river is full of silver stars,

Silver waves overflow slightly in the stream.

Water flooded the grass in vilen.

Still shining with silver light.

When night fell, there was silence everywhere.

Nature is immersed in a dream.

The bright moon is shining.

Silver everything around you.

8. Poems describing seasons 1. a song of the spring palace

Wang Changling (Tang Dynasty)

Last night, the spring breeze blew the peach blossoms in the well, and the moon in front of Weiyang Palace hung high in the sky.

Pingyang's geisha was attracted by the emperor, who gave her a brocade robe in the cold weather outside the curtain.

Translation:

Last night, the spring breeze opened the peach blossom beside the dew well, and the bright moon in front of Weiyang Palace hung high in the sky.

Princess Pingyang's singer's new favorite Liang Wudi. Seeing the slight spring chill outside the curtain, the emperor specially gave her a brocade robe.

Second, "Jiangcun"

Du Fu (Tang Dynasty)

The clear river winds around the village, and everything in the village looks elegant in the long summer.

Swallows on the beam fly freely, and blind dates in the water are similar and accompanied.

The old lady is using a chessboard, and the younger son is making a hook with an injection.

As long as some old friends give me some money, what do I ask?

Translation:

The clear river winds through the village, and everything in the village looks elegant in the long summer.

Swallows on the beam fly freely, and Bai Ou in the water approaches each other and accompanies each other.

The old lady is drawing a chessboard with paper, and the younger son is tapping a needle to make a fish hook.

What can I expect as long as an old friend gives me some money and food?

Third, night parking near Fengqiao.

Zhang Ji (Tang Dynasty)

Crows fell on the moon, crowed coldly, slept on maple trees, and slept in fishing lanes by the river.

In the lonely Hanshan Temple outside Suzhou, the bell that rang in the middle of the night reached the passenger ship.

Translation:

The moon sets, crows crow and the sky is cold. They sleep sadly on the maple trees and fishing fires by the river.

In the lonely and quiet Hanshan Ancient Temple outside Gusu City, the bell ringing at midnight reached the passenger ship.

Fourth, "Qingpingle Village Residence"

Xin Qiji (Song Dynasty)

The thatched roof of the hut is low and small, and the stream is covered with green grass.

Drunk Wu local drunk, gentle voice, white-haired old man who is it?

The eldest son is weeding in the bean field on the east side of the stream, and the second son is busy knitting chicken cages.

My favorite is my youngest son, who is lying in the grass, peeling the lotus just picked.

translate

The eaves of the hut are low and small, and the stream is covered with green grass.

Wu dialect, slightly drunk, sounds gentle and beautiful. Whose is that old man with white hair?

The eldest son is weeding in the bean field on the east side of the stream, and the second son is busy knitting chicken cages.

My favorite is my youngest son, who is lying on the grass at the head of the stream, peeling off the lotus just picked.

Verb (abbreviation of verb) "Look at the Xuefeng in Central South"

Zuyong (Tang Dynasty)

Looking south, the northern mountain is beautiful and snowy, like a cloud.

After the snow in Chu Qing, the afterglow of the sun shone from the forest. It was late, and Chang 'an was even more chilly.

Translation:

Looking at the end of the south, the northern mountain is beautiful and snowy, like a cloud.

In Chu Qing, the setting sun shines on the top of the forest after the snow, and in the evening, Chang 'an adds cold.

9. Short Poems Written by Famous Foreign Poets Winter Morning Pushkin (Russian 1799- 1837) first frost Sunshine, what a beautiful day! Charming friend, but you are sleeping.

It's time, beauty, wake up! Open your sleepy eyes closed by happiness. Please come out, as the morning star in the north, and meet the morning glow goddess in the north! Last night, do you still remember that there was heavy snow and the sinister sky was shrouded in darkness.

The yellow moon behind the dark clouds is like a pale spot in the night sky. You sat there bored, but now ... Oh, please look out the window: under the blue sky, it unfolds like a tapestry on Yuan Ye.

Large tracts of snow are shining with sunshine, and only transparent Woods are darkening. The branches of fir trees glow green in the frost: the frozen river is bright.

The whole room was illuminated by amber. The newly lit fire crackled pleasantly.

It's really beautiful to lie in bed and daydream at this time. However, should you ask someone to put the brown horse on the sled as soon as possible? Dear friends, riding lightly all the way lets us slide through the early morning snow.

Let the fierce horses run, and let's visit the open fields. The forest, the river bank, which grew not long ago, is so kind to me.

1829 appreciation of the translated version after searching old books Pushkin was a great Russian poet in 19 century. His poems are diverse in form and rich in rhythm, with a beautiful, delicate, light and clear style. Narcissus Wordsworth (English 1770- 1850) I roam alone! Like a cloud floating across the valley, I suddenly looked up and saw clusters of golden daffodils, colorful and dense; By the lake, under the shade of trees, swaying in the wind, dancing smartly.

The dense milky way is like a million stars flashing up and down, and this narcissus is arranged in an endless line along the lake bay; I caught a glimpse of thousands of flowers, shook my corolla and danced lightly. The ripples on the lake dance with the wind, but the joy of daffodils is better than ripples; How can a poet not feel relaxed and happy with such a pleasant companion! I stared at it for a long time, but I never thought about how rare this beautiful scenery gave me.

Since then, whenever I lie on the couch, or feel depressed, or at a loss, daffodils flash in my mind-it is a paradise when I am lonely; My heart is full of joy, dancing with daffodils. Appreciation of Cao Shuhou's old man: Wordsworth is the main representative of romantic poetry of British Huxiang poets.

His poems are full of emotion and plain language. This narcissus is easy to understand, but full of poetry.

(Tuesday, February 6, 2006, 5438+0) Thick plum trees (Su 1895—— 1925) The thick plum trees bloom with the arrival of spring, and the golden branches grow like curly hair. Sweet dew, dripping along the bark; Leave a spicy green mark, shiny silver.

Satin-like spikes sparkle under the dew, like bright earrings, worn on the ears of beautiful girls. Where the residual snow melts, on the grass near the roots, a silver stream flows happily all the way.

The thick plum trees spread their branches, emitting charming fragrance, golden green traces and reflecting the sun. The stream raised the waves of broken jade, splashed on the thick plum branches, bounced the strings under the cliff and sang for her affectionately.

19 15 (translated by Liu Zhanqiu and Ru Xiangxue) Appreciation of Old Cao Man Book Thickness: a famous Russian poet in the Soviet Union. His poems mainly describe the natural scenery of the countryside and have strong appeal.

Tree frost by the window (US 1874- 1963) The tree by my window, the tree by the window, I close the window when night falls; But never close the curtains, lest you and I be separated. You are a hazy dream shadow rising on the ground. You are as erratic as a floating cloud. Everything you preach loudly with your light tongue is not profound.

But tree, I saw the wind shaking you. If you catch a glimpse of me sleeping in this room, you will see that I was violently stirred and almost swept by the storm.

On that day, fate was a child's play, which linked us together: you were influenced by the external climate and I was stimulated by the internal wind and rain. Appreciation of Old Cao Man's Books: Robert Frost, the most famous American poet in the 20th century.

His poems are mainly about pasture and countryside, and the language is clear, simple, delicate and subtle. This poem is about a tree by the window, and the theme falls on the inner agitation.

(Tuesday, February 20th, 2006, 5438+0) The clever star Heine (Germany 1797- 1856) flowers easily touch people's feet, and most of them will be trampled by people; Whether shy or bold, people who pass by will be crushed. Pearls are hidden in the treasure chest of the sea, but they will also be found. Drill them, fasten them, and fasten them firmly on the wire rope.

Stars are smart, and they have reason to stay away from us. The stars are hanging in the sky, like the lights of the world, always safe. The old man Cao Shuhou appreciates Heine's poem, which is particularly interesting: nature has been destroyed by human beings, and even grass and pearls are not safe. Only the star is high in the sky, and there is no way for human beings to destroy it.

This poem is humorous and a warning to human beings to destroy nature. The theme of this poem is not directly spoken in the poem, so that readers can experience it themselves.

Poems like this make readers feel like their own discoveries, which are particularly poetic. (Tuesday, February 20th, 2006, 5438+0) The clever star Heine (Germany 1797- 1856) flowers easily touch people's feet, and most of them will be trampled by people; Whether shy or bold, people who pass by will be crushed.

Pearls are hidden in the treasure chest of the sea, but they will also be found. Drill them, fasten them, and fasten them firmly on the wire rope. Stars are smart, and they have reason to stay away from us. The stars are hanging in the sky, like the lights of the world, always safe.

The old man Cao Shuhou appreciates Heine's poem, which is particularly interesting: nature has been destroyed by human beings, and even grass and pearls are not safe. Only the star is high in the sky, and there is no way for human beings to destroy it. This poem is humorous and a warning to human beings to destroy nature.

The theme of this poem is not directly spoken in the poem, so that readers can experience it themselves. Poems like this make readers feel like their own discoveries, which are particularly poetic.

Forest Wright (Australia 19 15-.