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شعر انگلیسی

 
hamed_yurdum
hamed_yurdum
کاربر طلایی1
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شعر انگلیسی

Spring


When daisies pied, and violets blue,
And lady-smocks all silver-white,
And cuckoo-buds of yellow hue
Do paint the meadows with delight,
The cuckoo then, on every tree,
Mocks married men, for thus sings he:
'Cuckoo!
Cuckoo, cuckoo!' O word of fear,
Unpleasing to a married ear.


When shepherds pipe on oaten straws,
And merry larks are ploughmen's clocks,
When turtles tread, and rooks, and daws,
And maidens bleach their summer smocks,
The cuckoo then, on every tree,
Mocks married men, for thus sings he:
'Cuckoo!
Cuckoo, cuckoo!' O word of fear,
Unpleasing to a married ear


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چهارشنبه 16 فروردین 1391  10:06 PM
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hamed_yurdum
hamed_yurdum
کاربر طلایی1
تاریخ عضویت : دی 1390 
تعداد پست ها : 35378
محل سکونت : آذربایجان غربی-سولدوز

پاسخ به:شعر انگلیسی

Winter

WHEN icicles hang by the wall,
And Dick the shepherd blows his nail,
And Tom bears logs into the hall,
And milk comes frozen home in pail,
When blood is nipp'd, and ways be foul,
Then nightly sings the staring owl,
To-whit!To-who!—a merry note,
While greasy Joan doth keel the pot.

When all aloud the wind doe blow,
And coughing drowns the parson's saw,
And birds sit brooding in the snow,
And Marian's nose looks red and raw,
When roasted crabs hiss in the bowl,
Then nightly sings the staring owl,
To-whit!To-who!—a merry note,
While greasy Joan doth keel the pot


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چهارشنبه 16 فروردین 1391  10:07 PM
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hamed_yurdum
hamed_yurdum
کاربر طلایی1
تاریخ عضویت : دی 1390 
تعداد پست ها : 35378
محل سکونت : آذربایجان غربی-سولدوز

پاسخ به:شعر انگلیسی

Oh love, oh sorrow, the sweet sorrow
The greyless green of blue tomorrow

Within my heart you are forever
You never decay, no...no never

The whole heaven is your domain
All is to die, you will remain

The moon is you, the clouds, the rain
The fire, the ice, happiness and pain

The lips of seas jump up for you
You painted life with lovely hue

The birds will sing eternal songs
The rooks, the doves, are all your tongues

Oh love, oh sorrow, the sweet sorrow
come live with me today-to-morrow


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چهارشنبه 16 فروردین 1391  10:08 PM
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hamed_yurdum
hamed_yurdum
کاربر طلایی1
تاریخ عضویت : دی 1390 
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محل سکونت : آذربایجان غربی-سولدوز

پاسخ به:شعر انگلیسی




Anecdote of the Jar

I placed a jar in Tennessee,
And round it was, upon a hill.
It made the slovenly wilderness
Surround that hill



The wilderness rose up to it,
And sprawled around, no longer wild.
The jar was round upon the ground
And tall and of a port in air



It took dominion every where.
The jar was gray and bare.
It did not give of bird or bush,
Like nothing else in Tennessee


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چهارشنبه 16 فروردین 1391  10:08 PM
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hamed_yurdum
hamed_yurdum
کاربر طلایی1
تاریخ عضویت : دی 1390 
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محل سکونت : آذربایجان غربی-سولدوز

پاسخ به:شعر انگلیسی

The Man He Killed

"Had he and I but met
By some old ancient inn,
We should have sat us down to wet
Right many a nipperkin!


"But ranged as infantry,
And staring face to face,
I shot at him and he at me,
And killed him in his place.


"I shot him dead because –
Because he was my foe,
Just so – my foe of course he was;
That's clear enough; although


"He thought he'd 'list perhaps,
Off-hand like – just as I –
Was out of work – had sold his traps –
No other reason why.


"Yes; quaint and curious war is!
You shoot a fellow down
You'd treat if met where any bar is,
Or help to half-a-crown


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چهارشنبه 16 فروردین 1391  10:08 PM
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hamed_yurdum
hamed_yurdum
کاربر طلایی1
تاریخ عضویت : دی 1390 
تعداد پست ها : 35378
محل سکونت : آذربایجان غربی-سولدوز

پاسخ به:شعر انگلیسی

When my love swears that she is made of truth

When my love swears that she is made of truth,
I do believe her though I know she lies,
That she might think me some untutored youth,
Unlearned in the world's false subtleties.
Thus vainly thinking that she thinks me young,
Although she knows my days are past the best,
Simply I credit her false-speaking tongue:
On both sides thus is simple truth suppressed:
But wherefore says she not she is unjust?
And wherefore say not I that I am old?
O! love's best habit is in seeming trust,
And age in love, loves not to have years told:
Therefore I lie with her, and she with me,
And in our faults by lies we flattered be.


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چهارشنبه 16 فروردین 1391  10:08 PM
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hamed_yurdum
hamed_yurdum
کاربر طلایی1
تاریخ عضویت : دی 1390 
تعداد پست ها : 35378
محل سکونت : آذربایجان غربی-سولدوز

پاسخ به:شعر انگلیسی

 

پيش فرض

TO AUTUMN

SEASON of mists and mellow fruitfulness,
Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun;
Conspiring with him how to load and bless
With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eves run;
To bend with apples the moss’d cottage-trees,
And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core;
To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells
With a sweet kernel; to set budding more,
And still more, later flowers for the bees,
Until they think warm days will never cease,
For Summer has o’er-brimm’d their clammy cells


Who hath not seen thee oft amid thy store?
Sometimes whoever seeks abroad may find
Thee sitting careless on a granary floor,
Thy hair soft-lifted by the winnowing wind;
Or on a half-reap’d furrow sound asleep,
Drows’d with the fume of poppies, while thy hook
Spares the next swath and all its twined flowers:
And sometimes like a gleaner thou dost keep
Steady thy laden head across a brook;
Or by a cyder-press, with patient look,
Thou watchest the last oozings hours by hours


Where are the songs of Spring? Ay, where are they?
Think not of them, thou hast thy music too,—
While barred clouds bloom the soft-dying day,
And touch the stubble plains with rosy hue;
Then in a wailful choir the small gnats mourn
Among the river sallows, borne aloft
Or sinking as the light wind lives or dies;
And full-grown lambs loud bleat from hilly bourn;
Hedge-crickets sing; and now with treble soft
The red-breast whistles from a garden-croft;
And gathering swallows twitter in the skies


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چهارشنبه 16 فروردین 1391  10:09 PM
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hamed_yurdum
hamed_yurdum
کاربر طلایی1
تاریخ عضویت : دی 1390 
تعداد پست ها : 35378
محل سکونت : آذربایجان غربی-سولدوز

پاسخ به:شعر انگلیسی

 

پيش فرض


Stopping By Woods on a Snowy Evening


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



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چهارشنبه 16 فروردین 1391  10:09 PM
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hamed_yurdum
hamed_yurdum
کاربر طلایی1
تاریخ عضویت : دی 1390 
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محل سکونت : آذربایجان غربی-سولدوز

پاسخ به:شعر انگلیسی

 

پيش فرض


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.

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.

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

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


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چهارشنبه 16 فروردین 1391  10:09 PM
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hamed_yurdum
hamed_yurdum
کاربر طلایی1
تاریخ عضویت : دی 1390 
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محل سکونت : آذربایجان غربی-سولدوز

پاسخ به:شعر انگلیسی

 


Fire and Ice

Some say the world will end in fire,
Some say in ice.
From what I've tasted of desire
I hold with those who favor fire.

But if it had to perish twice,
I think I know enough of hate
To say that for destruction ice
Is also great
And would suffice.


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چهارشنبه 16 فروردین 1391  10:10 PM
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hamed_yurdum
hamed_yurdum
کاربر طلایی1
تاریخ عضویت : دی 1390 
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محل سکونت : آذربایجان غربی-سولدوز

پاسخ به:شعر انگلیسی

 

پيش فرض


My Last Duchess



That's my last Duchess painted on the wall,
Looking as if she were alive. I call
That piece a wonder, now: Fra Pandolf's hands
Worked busily a day, and there she stands.
Will't please you sit and look at her? I said
"Fra Pandolf" by design, for never read
Strangers like you that pictured countenance,
The depth and passion of its earnest glance,
But to myself they turned (since none puts by
the curtain I have drawn for you, but I)
And seemed they would ask me, if they durst,
How such a glance came there; so not the first
Are you to turn and ask thus. Sir, 'twas not
Her husband's presence only, called that spot
Of joy into the Duchess's cheek: perhaps
Fra Pandolf chanced to say "Her mantle laps
Over my lady's wrist too much," or Paint
Must never hope to reproduce the faint
Half flush that dies along her throat": such stuff
Was courtesy, she thought, and cause enough
For calling up that spot of you. She had
A heart--how shall I say?--too soon made glad,
Too easily impressed; she liked whate'er
She looked on, and her looks went everywhere.
Sir, 'twas all one! My favor at her breast,
The dropping of the daylight in the West,
The bough of cherry some officious fool
Broke in the orchard for her, the white mule
She rode with round the terrace--all and each
Would draw from her alike the approving speech,
Or blush, at least. She thanked men--good! but thanked
Somehow--I know not how--as if she ranked
My gift of a nine-hundred-years-old name
With anybody's gift. Who'd stoop to blame
This sort of trifling? Even had you skill
In speech--(which I have not)--to make your will
Quite clear to such a one, and say, "Just this
Or that in you disgusts me; here you miss
Or there exceed the mark"--and if she let
Herself be lessoned so, nor plainly set
her wits to yours, forsooth, and made excuse
--E'en then would be some stooping; and I choose
Never to stoop. Oh sir, she smiled, no doubt
Whene'er I passed her; but who passed without
Much the same smile? This grew; I gave commands;
Then all smiles stopped together. There she stands
As if alive. Will't please you rise? We'll meet
the company below, then. I repeat
The Count your master's known munificence
Is ample warrant that no just pretense
Of mine dowry will be disallowed
Though his fair daughter's self, as I avowed
At starting, is my object. Nay, we'll go down
Together down, sir. Notice Neptune, though,
Taming a sea horse, thought a rarity,
Which claus of Innsbruck cast in bronze for me


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چهارشنبه 16 فروردین 1391  10:10 PM
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hamed_yurdum
hamed_yurdum
کاربر طلایی1
تاریخ عضویت : دی 1390 
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محل سکونت : آذربایجان غربی-سولدوز

پاسخ به:شعر انگلیسی

 

پيش فرض

Ain’t ItFunny
It seemed to be like the perfect thing for youand me
Its so ironic you’re what I had pictured you to be
But there are facts in our lives
We can never change
Just tell me that you understand and you feel the same
This perfect romance that I’ve created in my mind
Id live a thousand lives
Each one with you right by my side
But yet we find ourselves in a less than perfect circumstance
And so it seems like well never have the chance
Ain’t it funny how some feelings you just cant deny
And you cant move on even though you try
Ain’t it strange when your feeling things you shouldn’t feel
Oh, I wish this could be real
Ain’t it funny how a moment could just change your life
And you don’t want to face what’s wrong or right
Ain’t it strange how fate can play a part
In the story of your heart
Sometimes I think that a true love can never be
I just believe that somehow it wasn’t meant for me
Life can be cruel in a way that I cant explain
And I don’t think that I could face it all again
I barely know you but somehow I know what you’re about
A deeper love I’ve found in you
And I no longer doubt
You’ve touched my heart and it altered every plan I’ve made
And now I feel that I don’t have to be afraid
Ain’t it funny how some feelings you just cant deny
And you cant move on even though you try
Ain’t it strange when your feeling things you shouldn’t feel
Oh, I wish this could be real
Ain’t it funny how a moment could just change your life
And you don’t want to face what’s wrong or right
Ain’t it strange how fate can play a part
In the story of your heart
I locked away my heart
But you just set it free
Emotions I felt
Held me back from what my life should be
I pushed you far away
And yet you stayed with me
I guess this means
That you and me were meant to be


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چهارشنبه 16 فروردین 1391  10:10 PM
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hamed_yurdum
hamed_yurdum
کاربر طلایی1
تاریخ عضویت : دی 1390 
تعداد پست ها : 35378
محل سکونت : آذربایجان غربی-سولدوز

پاسخ به:شعر انگلیسی

 

پيش فرض

Out, Out

The buzz saw snarled and rattled in the yard
And made dust and dropped stove-length sticks of wood,
Sweet-scented stuff when the breeze drew across it.
And from there those that lifted eyes could count
Five mountain ranges one behing the other
Under the sunset far into Vermont.
And the saw snarled and rattled, snarled and rattled,
As it ran light, or had to bear a load.
And nothing happened: day was all but done.
Call it a day, I wish they might have said
To please the boy by giving him the half hour
That a boy counts so much when saved from work.
His sister stood beside him in her apron
To tell them "Supper." At the word, the saw,
As if it meant to prove saws know what supper meant,
Leaped out at the boy's hand, or seemed to leap -
He must have given the hand. However it was,
Neither refused the meeting. But the hand!
Half in appeal, but half as if to keep
The life from spilling. Then the boy saw all -
Since he was old enough to know, big boy
Doing a man's work, though a child at heart -
He saw all was spoiled. "Don't let him cut my hand off -
The doctor, when he comes. Don't let him, sister!"
So. The hand was gone already.
The doctor put him in the dark of ether.
He lay and puffed his lips out with his breath.
And then - the watcher at his pulse took a fright.
No one believed. They listened to his heart.
Little - less - nothing! - and that ended it.
No more to build on there. And they, since they
Were not the one dead, turned to their affairs


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چهارشنبه 16 فروردین 1391  10:10 PM
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hamed_yurdum
hamed_yurdum
کاربر طلایی1
تاریخ عضویت : دی 1390 
تعداد پست ها : 35378
محل سکونت : آذربایجان غربی-سولدوز

پاسخ به:شعر انگلیسی

 

پيش فرض

Our March by Vladimir Mayakovsky



Beat the squares with the tramp of rebels!
Higher, rangers of haughty heads!
We'll wash the world with a second deluge,
Now’s the hour whose coming it dreads.
Too slow, the wagon of years,
The oxen of days — too glum.
Our god is the god of speed,
Our heart — our battle drum.
Is there a gold diviner than ours/
What wasp of a bullet us can sting?
Songs are our weapons, our power of powers,
Our gold — our voices — just hear us sing!
Meadow, lie green on the earth!
With silk our days for us line!
Rainbow, give color and girth
To the fleet-foot steeds of time.
The heavens grudge us their starry glamour.
Bah! Without it our songs can thrive.
Hey there, Ursus Major, clamour
For us to be taken to heaven alive!
Sing, of delight drink deep,
Drain spring by cups, not by thimbles.
Heart step up your beat!
Our breasts be the brass of cymbals


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چهارشنبه 16 فروردین 1391  10:10 PM
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hamed_yurdum
hamed_yurdum
کاربر طلایی1
تاریخ عضویت : دی 1390 
تعداد پست ها : 35378
محل سکونت : آذربایجان غربی-سولدوز

پاسخ به:شعر انگلیسی

 

پيش فرض


Because I Could not Stop for Death


Because I could not stop for Death,
He kindly stopped for me;
The carriage held but just ourselves
And Immortality

We slowly drove, he knew no haste,
And I had put away
My labor, and my leisure too,
For his civility

We passed the school, where children strove
At recess, in the ring;
We passed the fields of gazing grain,
We passed the setting sun

Or rather, he passed us;
The dews grew quivering and chill,
For only gossamer my gown,
My tippet only tulle

We paused before a house that seemed
A swelling of the ground;
The roof was scarcely visible,
The cornice but a mound

Since then 'tis centuries, and yet each
Feels shorter than the day
I first surmised the horses' heads
Were toward eternity


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چهارشنبه 16 فروردین 1391  10:11 PM
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