關於英文版唐朝詩歌欣賞
英語詩歌同建築藝術一樣,也需要追求外在的視覺藝術和造型藝術,講究外部的象形、對稱、參差和魅力,所以詩歌語言也具有建築藝術美感。小編精心收集了關於英文版唐朝詩歌，供大家欣賞學習!
關於英文版唐朝詩歌篇1
石魚湖上醉歌並序
元結
漫叟以公田米釀酒，因休暇，則載酒於湖上， 時取一醉;歡醉中，據湖岸，引臂向魚取酒， 使舫載之，遍飲坐者。意疑倚巴丘，酌於君山 之上，諸子環洞庭而坐，酒舫泛泛然，觸波濤 而往來者，乃作歌以長之。
石魚湖， 似洞庭，
夏水欲滿君山青。
山為樽， 水為沼，
酒徒歷歷坐洲鳥。
長風連日作大浪， 不能廢人運酒舫。
我持長瓢坐巴丘， 酌飲四座以散愁。
a drinking song at stone-fish lake
yuan jie
i have used grain from the public fields, for distilling wine. after my office hours i have the wine loaded on a boat and then i seat my friends on the bank of the lake. the little wine-boats come to each of us and supply us with wine. we seem to be drinking on pa islet in lake dongting. and i write this poem.
stone-fish lake is like lake dongting --
when the top of zun is green and the summer tide is rising.
...with the mountain for a table, and the lake a fount of wine,
the tipplers all are settled along the sandy shore.
though a stiff wind for days has roughened the water,
wine-boats constantly arrive....
i have a long-necked gourd and, happy on ba island,
i am pouring a drink in every direction doing away with care.
關於英文版唐朝詩歌篇2
夜歸鹿門山歌
孟浩然
山寺鐘鳴晝已昏， 漁梁渡頭爭渡喧。
人隨沙路向江村， 餘亦乘舟歸鹿門。
鹿門月照開煙樹， 忽到龐公棲隱處。
巖扉鬆徑長寂寥， 惟有幽人自來去。
returning at night to lumen mountain
meng haoran
a bell in the mountain-temple sounds the coming of night.
i hear people at the fishing-town stumble aboard the ferry,
while others follow the sand-bank to their homes along the river.
...i also take a boat and am bound for lumen mountain --
and soon the lumen moonlight is piercing misty trees.
i have come, before i know it, upon an ancient hermitage,
the thatch door, the piney path, the solitude, the quiet,
where a hermit lives and moves, never needing a companion.
關於英文版唐朝詩歌篇3
白雪歌送武判官歸京
岑參
北風捲地白草折， 胡天八月即飛雪;
忽如一夜春風來， 千樹萬樹梨花開。
散入珠簾溼羅幕， 狐裘不暖錦衾薄。
將軍角弓不得控， 都護鐵衣冷猶著。
瀚海闌干百丈冰， 愁雲黲淡萬里凝。
中軍置酒飲歸客， 胡琴琵琶與羌笛。
紛紛暮雪下轅門， 風掣紅旗凍不翻。
輪臺東門送君去， 去時雪滿天山路;
山迴路轉不見君， 雪上空留馬行處。
a song of white snow in farewell to field-clerk wu going home
cen can
the north wind rolls the white grasses and breaks them;
and the eighth-month snow across the tartar sky
is like a spring gale, come up in the night,
blowing open the petals of ten thousand peartrees.
it enters the pearl blinds, it wets the silk curtains;
a fur coat feels cold, a cotton mat flimsy;
bows become rigid, can hardly be drawn
and the metal of armour congeals on the men;
the sand-sea deepens with fathomless ice,
and darkness masses its endless clouds;
but we drink to our guest bound home from camp,
and play him barbarian lutes, guitars, harps;
till at dusk, when the drifts are crushing our tents
and our frozen red flags cannot flutter in the wind,
we watch him through wheel-tower gate going eastward.
into the snow-mounds of heaven-peak road....
and then he disappears at the turn of the pass,
leaving behind him only hoof-prints.