A COLLECTION OF GOOD WORDS
诗歌
Poetry
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.
有人说世界将在大火中毁灭， 有人说在冰上。 从我尝过的欲望中， 我支持那些喜欢火的人。 但如果它必须灭亡两次 我想我已经受够了仇恨 说是为了毁灭冰 也是伟大的 并就足够了。
There is poetry even in prose, in all the great prose which is not merely utilitarian or didactic: there exist poets who write in prose or at least in more or less apparent prose; millions of poets write verses which have no connection with poetry.
甚至在散文中也有诗歌，在所有伟大的散文中，不仅仅是功利主义的或说教的，也有诗人用散文写作，或至少用或多或少明显的散文;数以百万计的诗人写的诗与诗歌无关。
As things are, and as fundamentally they must always be, poetry is not a career, but a mug's game. No honest poet can ever feel quite sure of the permanent value of what he has written: He may have wasted his time and messed up his life for nothing.
诗歌不是一种职业，而是一种徒劳无益的游戏。没有一个诚实的诗人能对他所写的东西的永久价值有十足的把握:他可能白白浪费了时间，把生活搞得一团糟。
Poetry is not a turning loose of emotion, but an escape from emotion; it is not the expression of personality but an escape from personality. But, of course, only those who have personality and emotion know what it means to want to escape from these.
诗歌不是情感的放纵，而是情感的逃避;它不是个性的表现，而是对个性的一种逃避。但是，当然，只有那些有个性和情感的人才知道想要逃离这些意味着什么。
Poetry is the journal of the sea animal living on land, wanting to fly in the air. Poetry is a search for syllables to shoot at the barriers of the unknown and the unknowable. Poetry is a phantom script telling how rainbows are made and why they go away.
诗歌是生活在陆地上的海洋动物想要在空中飞翔的日记。诗歌是对音节的探索，旨在冲破未知和不可知的障碍。诗歌是一种虚幻的剧本，讲述彩虹是如何形成的，为什么会消失。
Poetry is not a turning loose of emotion, but an escape from emotion; it is not the expression of personality, but an escape from personality. But, of course, only those who have personality and emotions know what it means to want to escape from these things.
诗歌不是情感的放纵，而是情感的逃避;它不是个性的表现，而是对个性的一种逃避。但是，当然，只有那些有个性和情感的人才知道想要逃离这些东西意味着什么。
You know, bad poetry I wrote in high school can still be found on the Internet, and, you know, there's a Web log of our college newspaper. You know, there's so many different stages of my creative development are sort of on-record if somebody were to choose to look for them.
你知道，我在高中写的烂诗现在仍然可以在网上找到，而且，你知道，我们大学校报有一个网络日志。你知道，我的创造性发展有很多不同的阶段，如果有人选择去寻找它们，就会被记录下来。
All that is gold does not glitter, Not all those who wander are lost; The old that is strong does not wither, Deep roots are not reached by the frost. From the ashes a fire shall be woken, A light from the shadows shall spring; Renewed shall be blade that was broken, The crownless again shall be king.
所有的金子都不会发光， 并不是所有流浪的人都迷路了; 强壮的老人不会枯萎， 霜打不到深根。 将从灰烬中唤醒一团火， 从阴影里射出的光; 折断的刀必重新折断， 无冕者将再次称王。
I don't think one can accurately measure the historical effectiveness of a poem; but one does know, of course, that books influence individuals; and individuals, although they are part of large economic and social processes, influence history. Every mass is after all made up of millions of individuals.
我不认为人们可以准确地衡量一首诗的历史效力;但人们当然知道，书籍影响着个人;个人，虽然他们是大的经济和社会进程的一部分，影响着历史。每个群体毕竟是由数百万个体组成的。
I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where. I love you simply, without problems or pride: I love you in this way because I do not know any other way of loving but this, in which there is no I or you, so intimate that your hand upon my chest is my hand, so intimate that when I fall asleep your eyes close.
我爱你，却不知道如何爱你，何时爱你，何地爱你。我爱你很简单,没有问题或骄傲:我这样爱你,因为我不知道任何其他的方式爱但是没有我或你,如此亲密,你在我胸口的手即是我的手,那么亲密,当我睡着你的眼睛闭上。
KEEP EXPLORING
沿着这个主题，再读几句。
I would especially like to recourt the Muse of poetry, who ran off with the mailman four years ago, and drops me only a scribbled postcard from time to time.
我特别想引用诗神的话，她四年前和邮递员私奔了，只是偶尔给我寄来一张潦草的明信片。
Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?
告诉我，你打算如何度过你这狂野而珍贵的一生?
You are lovely God has painted every feature of your soul.
你是可爱的，上帝已经描绘了你灵魂的每一个特征。
Love is heavy and light, bright and dark, hot and cold, sick and healthy, asleep and awake- its everything except what it is!
爱是沉重而光明的，光明而黑暗的，热和冷的，生病而健康的，睡着和醒着的——除了它是什么，它是一切!
An aged man is but a paltry thing, a tattered coat upon a stick, unless soul clap its hands and sing, and louder sing for every tatter in its mortal dress.
一个上了年纪的人不过是一件微不足道的东西，一件破烂不堪的外套，绑在一根棍子上。
Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player, that struts and frets his hour upon the stage, and then is heard no more; it is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.
人生不过是一个行走的影子，一个可怜的演员，在舞台上趾高气扬，焦躁不安，然后就再也听不见了;这是一个白痴讲的故事，充满了喧嚣和愤怒，没有任何意义。