Ode to the West Wind(V)
Percy Bysshe Shelley
Make me thy lyre, even as the forest is:
What if my leaves are falling like its own!
The tumult of thy mighty harmonies
Will take from both a deep, autumnal tone,
Sweet though in sadness. Be thou, Spirit fierce,
My spirit! Be thou me, impetuous one!
Drive my dead thoughts over the universe
Like wither’d leaves to quicken a new birth!
And, by the incarnation of this verse,
Scatter, as from an unextinguish’d hearth
Ashes and sparks, my words among mankind!
Be through my lips to unawaken’d earth
The trumpet of a prophecy!
Oh Wind,
If Winter comes, can Spring be far behind?
朗读者:八(2)班曹希 推荐人:David Liu
资料来源:网络 《西风颂》节选
2020.06.06
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