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*********************************************Fwd from cy Kung
Dear All Friends:
ÓÃß@‚€sonnet 130 ÔÚ´º¹é_ˆöÊÇÓ²ÁËÒ»üc,°üº°üº¬
ÎÒ±ØíšÉêÃ÷, ÎÒ²»ÊÇɯÊϱȆµÄÔŠÔ~Œ£˜IÑо¿Õß. ÔÚsonnetŒ£˜IÉϵÄsearch”zÈ¡, ƒHÊÇÄwœ\’ßÃéÁËŽ×ƪÖÐÓ¢ÎÄÕÂ, sonnet 130·×gÉÏÊÇ¿ÉÄÜÓÐ Ž×h,¿‚ÓXµÃ×Ô¼º±ÈÝ^ÙN½üɯصµÄÏë·¨, Ôڴ˲»¸ÒÙÔÔ½, ͬÖöþ°æ±¾×öžé±ÈÝ^
´ËÔŠÈç´Ëªšµ½·×g, ÓЮì¶ÆäËûÖÐÓ¢ÎľW·ÉÏÕÒµ½µÄ°æ±¾,‘ªÔ“ÊDZÈÝ^·ûºÏɯʿÔÒâµÄ. µÚÒ»µ½µÚ°Ë¾äÓñÈÝ^Ž§¡±ÐÔ¡±ƒAÏòµÄŒ¦±È·×g,Ò²²»ËãÌ«ß^¡. Ö»ÊǼӊͻ³öÇ°°Ë¾äÅc×îáá¶þ¾äŒ¦ MistressµÄŠÁÒ²î®. Ö÷ÒªÊÇ¿´µÚÊ®¾ä,ÊÇ·ñÕý´_ÖÒì¶ÔÒâ- That music hath a far more pleasing sound: ThatÊÇêPæI‧Ç°°Ë¾äµÄÃèÊö, Œ¦MistressÔÚÎÄ×ÖŒ¦±ÈÏÂÊÇŒÙì¶ÁӄݵÄ. ÞDÕÛücÔڵھžäµÄ Yet WellÊÇ,, ‘ªÔ“ÊÇŒ¦MisµÄÌØÙ|é_ʼ×ö¸üÕýÃæµÄÃèÊö¡¡
µÚÊ®Ëľä×îáá¿‚½YµÄÒ»¾ä, Ó¢ÎÄÉÏÆß‚€×Ö, As any she belied with false compare.ÊDZ¾ÔŠ×î¶ÌµÄÒ»¾ä, ¼ÓÉϵÚÊ®Èý¾äµÄ as rare, Ö±×gÈçÏÂ: ÕýÈçÈκÎËý±»åeÕ`±È”MÕ`Œ§(ÑÚÉw)µÄÌØÙ|Ò»˜ÓµÄÕäÙF,íš22‚€ÖÐÎÄ×Ö, ÔÚÎÒ·×gɯÊÏsonnetÎľäÖÐ,ËãÊǺĵô×î¶àƪ·ù.
›]ÏëñRÄê×îááÒ»Ò¹, ×gÍêÉзQÍêÃÀµÄsonnet 130, ÎÒµÄÀÏÆÅÛÈË, ×öžé¼ªÑò«I½oÀÏÆÅ
Sonnet 130ÎÒµÄÀÏÆÅÛÈË By C.Y.Kung, Ø•ÖÐÔª (Éî×g) 95 ·Ö
My mistress¡¯ eyes are nothing like the sun, ÎÒ(ÀÏÆÅ)ÛÈ˵ÄË«ÑÛ,²»Èçìãê–ÎÂÇé,12×Ö
Coral is far more red, than her lips red, ɺº÷ÖìÆG, ßh„Ùì¶Ëý¼tÉ«Ë«´½,£º(13)
If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun: Ò•Ñ©°×žéÃÀ£¬ËýÐظ¬ÊÇ°µºÖÃÀ‘a(13)
If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head: °Ý½ðóŒÎ¨ÉУ¬Ëýî^ÉϵĺÚóŒ´ÖÓ² (13)
I have seen roses damasked, red and white, ÎÒÔøÒŠß^õ¹å°×ÖÐ͸¼tµÄ‹ÉÃÀ, (13)
But no such roses see I in her cheeks , ÔÚÛÈ˵ÄË«¼Õ,È´Ÿo´ËÐßÈÝí£»(13)
And in some perfumes is there more delight, ÔS¶àÏãζ,“ä±ÇµÄÁîÈË‚Š^£¬(11)
Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks. ÎÒÛÈ˵ijC´,…sŸo´ËñNÜ°¡£(11)
I love to hear her speak, yet well I know, ÎÒ°®Â ËýµÄÕ„Õ“£¬KÇÒÎҺܴ_¶¨(13)
That music hath a far more pleasing sound: Õ“Õ{ÑeÓÐÒ»·Nßh¶àì¶Ó䂵ÄÊ•íy£»(13)
I grant I never saw a goddess go, ÎÒ³ÐÕJÄδ¼ûß^ÏÉÅ®ÆÅ涿£¬(13)
My mistress when she walks treads on the ground.ÎÒÛÈ˵IJ½Õ{,È´ÊǽÅ̤ŒµØ(Ðо³)13‧
And yet by heaven I think my love as rare, ÉÏÉnÃ÷èa,ÎÒÐÅ´ËÛ˜OžéÕäÙF(12)
As any she belied with false compare. (ÕýÈç)Ëý±»Çú½âµÄÈκÎÌØÙ|,¶¼ÊÇÖÁÕä.(13)
(ÔÚß@ÑeÕäÙFµÄÌØÙ|ÊÇÖ¸ speak ¸ßÕ„ and walks ½Å̤ʵµØ)
Sonnet 130 Ö±×g
My mistress¡¯ eyes are nothing like the sun, ÎÒÇéÈ˵ÄË«ÑÛ, ›]ÓÐÒ»ücÏñÌ«ê–,
Coral is far more red, than her lips red, ɺº÷µÄÖìÆGßh„Ùì¶Ëý¼tÉ«Ë«´½,
If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun: Èç¹ûÑ©Êǰ׵ģ¬žéºÎËýÐظ¬ÊÇ°µºÖÉ«
If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head: ÃÀóŒÊǽðµÄ£¬Ëýî^ÉÏéLµÄÊǺÚÉ«Ó²óŒ
I have seen roses damasked, red and white, ÎÒÔø¼û°×ÖÐ͸¼tµÄõ¹å,
But no such roses see I in her cheeks , ÔÚÇéÈ˵ÄË«¼Õ,È´Ÿo´Ë‹ÉÃÀ£»
And in some perfumes is there more delight, ÔS¶àÏãζ“ä±Ç,±ÈÎÒÛÈ˵ģ¬
Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks. ºôÎüµÄ(³ô)šâζ¸üÁîÈËÐÀ‚¡£
I love to hear her speak, yet well I know, , ÎÒ°®Â ËýµÄÕ„Õ“,¿ÉÊÇÎҺܴ_¶¨
That music hath a far more pleasing sound: , Òô˜·µÄÔöúßhƒžì¶ËýµÄɤÒô£»
I grant I never saw a goddess go, ÎÒ³ÐÕJÄδ¼ûß^ÏÉÅ®²½×Ë£¬
My mistress when she walks treads on the ground. ÎÒÛÈ˵IJ½Õ{,È´ÊǽÅ̤ʵµØ
And yet by heaven I think my love as rare, ÉÏÉnÃ÷èa,ÎÒÐÅ´ËÛ˜OžéÕäÙF(º±ÒŠ)
As any she belied with false compare. ÕýÈçÈκÎËý±»åeÕ`±È”MÕ`Œ§(ÑÚÉw)µÄÌØÙ|Ò»˜ÓµÄÕäÙF(º±ÒŠ)
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