作业帮The Grasshopper and the CricketJohn KeatsThe poetry of earth is never dead.When all the birds are faint with the hot sunAnd hide in cooling trees,a voice will run From hedge to hedge about the new?mown meadThat is the Grasshopper’s.He takes the lea
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The Grasshopper and the CricketJohn KeatsThe poetry of earth is never dead.When all the birds are faint with the hot sunAnd hide in cooling trees,a voice will run From hedge to hedge about the new?mown meadThat is the Grasshopper’s.He takes the lea
The Grasshopper and the Cricket
John Keats
The poetry of earth is never dead.
When all the birds are faint with the hot sun
And hide in cooling trees,a voice will run
From hedge to hedge about the new?mown mead
That is the Grasshopper’s.He takes the lead
In summer luxury;he has never done
With his delights,for when tired out with fun
He rests at ease beneath some pleasant weed.
The poetry of earth is ceasing never.
On a lone winter evening,when the frost
Has wrought a silence,from the stove there shrills
The cricket’s song,in warmth increasing ever,
And seems to one in drowsiness half lost,
The grasshopper’s among some grassy hills.
The Grasshopper and the CricketJohn KeatsThe poetry of earth is never dead.When all the birds are faint with the hot sunAnd hide in cooling trees,a voice will run From hedge to hedge about the new?mown meadThat is the Grasshopper’s.He takes the lea
约翰 济慈
大地的诗歌从来不会死亡：
当所有的鸟儿因骄阳而昏晕,
隐藏在阴凉的林中,就有一种声音
在新割的草地周围的树篱上飘荡
那就是蝈蝈的乐音啊!它争先
沉醉于盛夏的豪华,它从未感到
自己的喜悦消逝,一旦唱到疲劳了,
便舒适地栖息在可喜的草丛中间.
大地的诗歌呀,从来没有停息：
在寂寞的冬天夜晚,当严霜凝成
一片宁静,从炉边就弹起了
蛐蛐的歌儿,在逐渐升高的暖气,
昏昏欲睡中,人们感到那声音
仿佛就是蝈蝈在草茸茸的山上鸣叫.