展开全部
从一粒细沙中窥探世界
在一朵野花里寻觅天堂
掌中握无限
霎那成永恒
当真理被恶意利用时
比一切臆造的谎言狰狞
现实本来就这样
人生来就要面对快乐和悲惨
只要能明了这一点
我们就不会再受伤害
将快乐和忧伤编织
披在我神圣的心上
穷人手里的一个铜板
抵得上非洲海岸的所有黄金
从劳动者手里砸取的一丁点钱
能买的下守财奴的所有土地
如果得到上帝的庇护
甚至可以买卖国土的全部
谁曾嘲笑纯真的信念
他将被岁月和死亡讥讽
谁要动摇纯真的信念
他将永远被埋葬在陈腐的墓穴中
谁能尊重纯真的信念
他将战胜地狱和死亡
如果不相信自己的眼睛
将永远不懂得去信任,请随心而行
如果太阳和月亮心存猜疑
它们将会转瞬消失
被激情围绕就能拥有美好
情欲攻心则会迷失自我
每一个夜晚,每一个清晨
有人生来就为不幸伤神
每一个清晨,每一个夜晚
有人生来就被幸福拥抱
有人生来就被幸福拥抱
有人生来就被长夜围绕
如果不是亲眼所见
我们就会相信谎言
谎言在黑夜里生灭
灵魂在光芒中休眠
对挣扎在黑暗中的人
上帝散发出光明
对生活在白昼的人
上帝幻化为人性
在一朵野花里寻觅天堂
掌中握无限
霎那成永恒
当真理被恶意利用时
比一切臆造的谎言狰狞
现实本来就这样
人生来就要面对快乐和悲惨
只要能明了这一点
我们就不会再受伤害
将快乐和忧伤编织
披在我神圣的心上
穷人手里的一个铜板
抵得上非洲海岸的所有黄金
从劳动者手里砸取的一丁点钱
能买的下守财奴的所有土地
如果得到上帝的庇护
甚至可以买卖国土的全部
谁曾嘲笑纯真的信念
他将被岁月和死亡讥讽
谁要动摇纯真的信念
他将永远被埋葬在陈腐的墓穴中
谁能尊重纯真的信念
他将战胜地狱和死亡
如果不相信自己的眼睛
将永远不懂得去信任,请随心而行
如果太阳和月亮心存猜疑
它们将会转瞬消失
被激情围绕就能拥有美好
情欲攻心则会迷失自我
每一个夜晚,每一个清晨
有人生来就为不幸伤神
每一个清晨,每一个夜晚
有人生来就被幸福拥抱
有人生来就被幸福拥抱
有人生来就被长夜围绕
如果不是亲眼所见
我们就会相信谎言
谎言在黑夜里生灭
灵魂在光芒中休眠
对挣扎在黑暗中的人
上帝散发出光明
对生活在白昼的人
上帝幻化为人性
展开全部
To see a world in a grain of sand
And a heaven in a wild flower,
Hold infinity in the palm of your hand
And eternity in an hour.
一沙一世界
一花一天堂
摊开你的手掌
永恒在这一刻收藏
上面的四行诗是长诗《Auguries of Innocence》的开头四行。作者名唤威廉·布莱克(William Blake 1757-1827),他还是一位水彩画家、版画家。此诗写于1863年。有意思的是,虽然前四句家喻户晓,整首长诗却不在布莱克的代表作之列,评论家们也很少谈起。
全诗如下:
Auguries of Innocence
To see a world in a grain of sand
And a heaven in a wild flower,
Hold infinity in the palm of your hand
And eternity in an hour.
A robin redbreast in a cage
Puts all heaven in a rage.
A dove-house filled with doves and pigeons
Shudders hell through all its regions.
A dog starved at his master's gate
Predicts the ruin of the state.
A horse misused upon the road
Calls to heaven for human blood.
Each outcry of the hunted hare
A fibre from the brain does tear.
A skylark wounded in the wing,
A cherubim does cease to sing.
The game-cock clipped and armed for fight
Does the rising sun affright.
Every wolf's and lion's howl
Raises from hell a human soul.
The wild deer wandering here and there
Keeps the human soul from care.
The lamb misused breeds public strife,
And yet forgives the butcher's knife.
The bat that flits at close of eve
Has left the brain that won't believe.
The owl that calls upon the night
Speaks the unbeliever's fright.
He who shall hurt the little wren
Shall never be beloved by men.
He who the ox to wrath has moved
Shall never be by woman loved.
The wanton boy that kills the fly
Shall feel the spider's enmity.
He who torments the chafer's sprite
Weaves a bower in endless night.
The caterpillar on the leaf
Repeats to thee thy mother's grief.
Kill not the moth nor butterfly,
For the Last Judgment draweth nigh.
He who shall train the horse to war
Shall never pass the polar bar.
The beggar's dog and widow's cat,
Feed them, and thou wilt grow fat.
The gnat that sings his summer's song
Poison gets from Slander's tongue.
The poison of the snake and newt
Is the sweat of Envy's foot.
The poison of the honey-bee
Is the artist's jealousy.
The prince's robes and beggar's rags
Are toadstools on the miser's bags.
A truth that's told with bad intent
Beats all the lies you can invent.
It is right it should be so:
Man was made for joy and woe;
And when this we rightly know
Through the world we safely go.
Joy and woe are woven fine,
A clothing for the soul divine.
Under every grief and pine
Runs a joy with silken twine.
The babe is more than swaddling bands,
Throughout all these human lands;
Tools were made and born were hands,
Every farmer understands.
Every tear from every eye
Becomes a babe in eternity;
This is caught by females bright
And returned to its own delight.
The bleat, the bark, bellow, and roar
Are waves that beat on heaven's shore.
The babe that weeps the rod beneath
Writes Revenge! in realms of death.
The beggar's rags fluttering in air
Does to rags the heavens tear.
The soldier armed with sword and gun
Palsied strikes the summer's sun.
The poor man's farthing is worth more
Than all the gold on Afric's shore.
One mite wrung from the labourer's hands
Shall buy and sell the miser's lands,
Or if protected from on high
Does that whole nation sell and buy.
He who mocks the infant's faith
Shall be mocked in age and death.
He who shall teach the child to doubt
The rotting grave shall ne'er get out.
He who respects the infant's faith
Triumphs over hell and death.
The child's toys and the old man's reasons
Are the fruits of the two seasons.
The questioner who sits so sly
Shall never know how to reply.
He who replies to words of doubt
Doth put the light of knowledge out.
The strongest poison ever known
Came from Caesar's laurel crown.
Nought can deform the human race
Like to the armour's iron brace.
When gold and gems adorn the plough
To peaceful arts shall Envy bow.
A riddle or the cricket's cry
Is to doubt a fit reply.
The emmet's inch and eagle's mile
Make lame philosophy to smile.
He who doubts from what he sees
Will ne'er believe, do what you please.
If the sun and moon should doubt,
They'd immediately go out.
To be in a passion you good may do,
But no good if a passion is in you.
The whore and gambler, by the state
Licensed, build that nation's fate.
The harlot's cry from street to street
Shall weave old England's winding sheet.
The winner's shout, the loser's curse,
Dance before dead England's hearse.
Every night and every morn
Some to misery are born.
Every morn and every night
Some are born to sweet delight.
Some are born to sweet delight,
Some are born to endless night.
We are led to believe a lie
When we see not through the eye
Which was born in a night to perish in a night,
When the soul slept in beams of light.
God appears, and God is light
To those poor souls who dwell in night,
But does a human form display
To those who dwell in realms of day.
And a heaven in a wild flower,
Hold infinity in the palm of your hand
And eternity in an hour.
一沙一世界
一花一天堂
摊开你的手掌
永恒在这一刻收藏
上面的四行诗是长诗《Auguries of Innocence》的开头四行。作者名唤威廉·布莱克(William Blake 1757-1827),他还是一位水彩画家、版画家。此诗写于1863年。有意思的是,虽然前四句家喻户晓,整首长诗却不在布莱克的代表作之列,评论家们也很少谈起。
全诗如下:
Auguries of Innocence
To see a world in a grain of sand
And a heaven in a wild flower,
Hold infinity in the palm of your hand
And eternity in an hour.
A robin redbreast in a cage
Puts all heaven in a rage.
A dove-house filled with doves and pigeons
Shudders hell through all its regions.
A dog starved at his master's gate
Predicts the ruin of the state.
A horse misused upon the road
Calls to heaven for human blood.
Each outcry of the hunted hare
A fibre from the brain does tear.
A skylark wounded in the wing,
A cherubim does cease to sing.
The game-cock clipped and armed for fight
Does the rising sun affright.
Every wolf's and lion's howl
Raises from hell a human soul.
The wild deer wandering here and there
Keeps the human soul from care.
The lamb misused breeds public strife,
And yet forgives the butcher's knife.
The bat that flits at close of eve
Has left the brain that won't believe.
The owl that calls upon the night
Speaks the unbeliever's fright.
He who shall hurt the little wren
Shall never be beloved by men.
He who the ox to wrath has moved
Shall never be by woman loved.
The wanton boy that kills the fly
Shall feel the spider's enmity.
He who torments the chafer's sprite
Weaves a bower in endless night.
The caterpillar on the leaf
Repeats to thee thy mother's grief.
Kill not the moth nor butterfly,
For the Last Judgment draweth nigh.
He who shall train the horse to war
Shall never pass the polar bar.
The beggar's dog and widow's cat,
Feed them, and thou wilt grow fat.
The gnat that sings his summer's song
Poison gets from Slander's tongue.
The poison of the snake and newt
Is the sweat of Envy's foot.
The poison of the honey-bee
Is the artist's jealousy.
The prince's robes and beggar's rags
Are toadstools on the miser's bags.
A truth that's told with bad intent
Beats all the lies you can invent.
It is right it should be so:
Man was made for joy and woe;
And when this we rightly know
Through the world we safely go.
Joy and woe are woven fine,
A clothing for the soul divine.
Under every grief and pine
Runs a joy with silken twine.
The babe is more than swaddling bands,
Throughout all these human lands;
Tools were made and born were hands,
Every farmer understands.
Every tear from every eye
Becomes a babe in eternity;
This is caught by females bright
And returned to its own delight.
The bleat, the bark, bellow, and roar
Are waves that beat on heaven's shore.
The babe that weeps the rod beneath
Writes Revenge! in realms of death.
The beggar's rags fluttering in air
Does to rags the heavens tear.
The soldier armed with sword and gun
Palsied strikes the summer's sun.
The poor man's farthing is worth more
Than all the gold on Afric's shore.
One mite wrung from the labourer's hands
Shall buy and sell the miser's lands,
Or if protected from on high
Does that whole nation sell and buy.
He who mocks the infant's faith
Shall be mocked in age and death.
He who shall teach the child to doubt
The rotting grave shall ne'er get out.
He who respects the infant's faith
Triumphs over hell and death.
The child's toys and the old man's reasons
Are the fruits of the two seasons.
The questioner who sits so sly
Shall never know how to reply.
He who replies to words of doubt
Doth put the light of knowledge out.
The strongest poison ever known
Came from Caesar's laurel crown.
Nought can deform the human race
Like to the armour's iron brace.
When gold and gems adorn the plough
To peaceful arts shall Envy bow.
A riddle or the cricket's cry
Is to doubt a fit reply.
The emmet's inch and eagle's mile
Make lame philosophy to smile.
He who doubts from what he sees
Will ne'er believe, do what you please.
If the sun and moon should doubt,
They'd immediately go out.
To be in a passion you good may do,
But no good if a passion is in you.
The whore and gambler, by the state
Licensed, build that nation's fate.
The harlot's cry from street to street
Shall weave old England's winding sheet.
The winner's shout, the loser's curse,
Dance before dead England's hearse.
Every night and every morn
Some to misery are born.
Every morn and every night
Some are born to sweet delight.
Some are born to sweet delight,
Some are born to endless night.
We are led to believe a lie
When we see not through the eye
Which was born in a night to perish in a night,
When the soul slept in beams of light.
God appears, and God is light
To those poor souls who dwell in night,
But does a human form display
To those who dwell in realms of day.
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