本帖最后由 大土佬儿 于 2009-2-7 01:00 PM 编辑
W.B. Yeats (1865–1939).
The Wild Swans at Coole. 1919.
The trees are in their autumn beauty,
The woodland paths are dry,
Under the October twilight the water
Mirrors a still sky;
Upon the brimming water among the stones
Are nine and fifty swans.
The nineteenth Autumn has come upon me
Since I first made my count;
I saw, before I had well finished,
All suddenly mount
And scatter wheeling in great broken rings
Upon their clamorous wings.
I have looked upon those brilliant creatures,
And now my heart is sore.
All’s changed since I, hearing at twilight,
The first time on this shore,
The bell-beat of their wings above my head,
Trod with a lighter tread.
Unwearied still, lover by lover,
They paddle in the cold,
Companionable streams or climb the air;
Their hearts have not grown old;
Passion or conquest, wander where they will,
Attend upon them still.
But now they drift on the still water
Mysterious, beautiful;
Among what rushes will they build,
By what lake’s edge or pool
Delight men’s eyes, when I awake some day
To find they have flown away?
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2006年10月14日，天空的蓝色，秋叶的黄色和红色倒影在纽约州阿帕拉契山的上千个大大小小的湖里。湖里的天鹅和大雁懒洋洋地游着，探颈入水觅食，剔整羽毛，打盹。 微风把睡着了的天鹅和大雁吹散开了，又吹合拢了。它们睁开了眼，又睡着了。从照像机的 600 mm 望远镜头看到的湖水，美丽的无法形容描述。 |
楼主
发表于 2009-2-7 13:14:03
发表于 2009-2-11 20:47:36
