Wordsworth’s love poem: Lucy

2022-05-06 0 By

I finally understand the past, the waves of emotion attack.But only dare to lover’s ear, tell me that experience.It was she I loved, every day as fair as the rose of June, and I went to her cottage at will, with the sweetness of the evening moon.My eyes are fixed on the moon, and the prairie stretches as far as the eye can see, towards my dearest path, and my horse’s hoofs gallop faster and faster.We walked to the orchard over there, and we climbed the hill again.The moon leaned over Lucy’s rafters, drawing closer to us.I had a sweet dream — the bounty of kindness and nature.My eyes were in that dreamland, staring at the falling moon.The horse went on, step after step, leaping forward and refusing to stop.Far behind the roof of her hut was the sudden fall of the bright moon.Some affectionate and capricious ideas, suddenly flash in the lover’s mind.Ah!Forgive me!I cried in my heart, “Is Lucy dead?Secluded in a lonely place, her family lived on the edge of Dove Spring.She was a girl few admired, still less loved.The violet that blooms by the moss stone, she hides from the eyes of men;Beautiful as a lone star, all alone in the sky.Few people knew Lucy when she lived, and still fewer knew when she died.But she is buried, and o my heart alone mourns.I traveled alone among strangers, and crossed the sea to wander in strange lands.Then, England, did I know how much I loved you.The past is a sad dream, I do not want to leave the country again.Because my love for you seems to grow deeper with every passing year.My heart is happiest in the mountains beyond my country.The spinning wheel, the dear girl, sat by the English fire.In the morning he reveals himself, in the night he hides himself.Lucy frolicked by the gazebos.O motherland, thy green fields, to which Lucie’s eyes last look.Three years, sunshine and rain make her grow;Then nature told me that no flower more beautiful than she had ever been cultivated.I will claim the child, she will be mine, and I will make her the woman I want her to be.Legal and personal, she is the woman I love most.On the rock, on the plain, in the sky, on earth, in the jungle, in the summer-house.She had the power to override them, either to illuminate them or to suppress them.She will play and frolic like a deer, galloping merrily over the prairie, leaping over the mountain springs.She is also like a faint fragrance, with the silent still life, deep and quiet beauty.Floating clouds borrow and charm, bi Liu fiber waist drooping, even the advent of the storm, also presented another kind of charm, quietly in the praise, add the charm of the girl body slim.The stars of the night meet her, and in the silence she listens, and the whirling brook is sweet with its murmur, and its light shines on her cheek.Vibrant, more beaming, nurturing her body.The virgin’s breasts are becoming more and more even.Living with Lucy in the Valley of Joy, I shall give her this joy.Nature says, the masterpiece is done — my Lucie, dead early.She had died, and I was left with the place of her birth, the silent scene and the emptiness of the past.I sleep soundly without fear.She did not feel the passage of time.She has not moved, she has lost her strength.No longer hear or see, but with the rocks, trees and stones that follow the daily course of the earth, have vanished forever.MaoYuMei translation