关于英文版唐朝诗歌欣赏
英语诗歌同建筑艺术一样,也需要追求外在的视觉艺术和造型艺术,讲究外部的象形、对称、参差和魅力,所以诗歌语言也具有建筑艺术美感。小编精心收集了关于英文版唐朝诗歌，供大家欣赏学习!
关于英文版唐朝诗歌篇1
石鱼湖上醉歌并序
元结
漫叟以公田米酿酒，因休暇，则载酒于湖上， 时取一醉;欢醉中，据湖岸，引臂向鱼取酒， 使舫载之，遍饮坐者。意疑倚巴丘，酌于君山 之上，诸子环洞庭而坐，酒舫泛泛然，触波涛 而往来者，乃作歌以长之。
石鱼湖， 似洞庭，
夏水欲满君山青。
山为樽， 水为沼，
酒徒历历坐洲鸟。
长风连日作大浪， 不能废人运酒舫。
我持长瓢坐巴丘， 酌饮四座以散愁。
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.
关于英文版唐朝诗歌篇2
夜归鹿门山歌
孟浩然
山寺钟鸣昼已昏， 渔梁渡头争渡喧。
人随沙路向江村， 余亦乘舟归鹿门。
鹿门月照开烟树， 忽到庞公栖隐处。
岩扉松径长寂寥， 惟有幽人自来去。
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.
关于英文版唐朝诗歌篇3
白雪歌送武判官归京
岑参
北风卷地白草折， 胡天八月即飞雪;
忽如一夜春风来， 千树万树梨花开。
散入珠帘湿罗幕， 狐裘不暖锦衾薄。
将军角弓不得控， 都护铁衣冷犹著。
瀚海阑干百丈冰， 愁云黪淡万里凝。
中军置酒饮归客， 胡琴琵琶与羌笛。
纷纷暮雪下辕门， 风掣红旗冻不翻。
轮台东门送君去， 去时雪满天山路;
山回路转不见君， 雪上空留马行处。
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.
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