Love is More Thicker than Forget
Love is more thicker than forget
More thinner than recall
More seldom than a wave is wet
More frequent than to fail
It is most mad and moonly
And less it shall unbe
Than all the sea which only
Is deeper than the sea
Love is less always than to win
Less never than alive
Less bigger than the least begin
Less littler than forgive
It is most sane and sunly
And more it cannot die
Than all the sky which only
Is higher than the sky
Ode To The Sea 至大海(中英对照)
Here surrounding the island there is sea
But what sea
lt's always overflowing
says " Yes," then“No," then "No"again.
And "No,"says"Yes" in blue,
in sea spray raging,
says "No" and "No" again.
It can't be still.
It stammers "my name is sea."
It slaps the rocks,
and when they aren't convinced
Strokes them and soaks them
and smolders them with kisses.
with seven green tongues of seven green dogs,
Or seven green tigers, or Seven green seas
Beating its chest, stammering its name.
Oh, sea, this is your name.
oh, comrade ocean, don't waste time
or water getting so upset.
Help us instead.
We're meager fishermen,
men from the shore.
We're hungry and cold
and you're our foe.
Don't beat so hard, don't shout so loud.
Open your green coffers.
Place gifts of silver in our hands.
Give us this day our daily fish.
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I marked the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way
I doubted if I should ever come back.
Pablo Neruda 巴勃鲁·聂鲁达(1904～1973)，
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I,
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that, the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
说“是”,接而“不”,一遍叉一遍 重复着“不”,它忧悒地说“是”, 却咆哮着
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
By Robert Frost
Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.
My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.
He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound's the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.
The woods are lovely, dark and deep.
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.
The Road Not Taken
TWO roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
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