ترجمة أدبية لنص أجنبي

تقليص
X
 
  • تصفية - فلترة
  • الوقت
  • عرض
إلغاء تحديد الكل
مشاركات جديدة

  • ترجمة أدبية لنص أجنبي

    TO SPRING\
    O thou, with dewy locks, who lookest down
    Thro' the clear windows of the morning; turn
    Thine angel eyes upon our western isle,
    Which in full choir hails thy approach, O Spring!
    The hills tell each other, and the list'ning
    Vallies hear; all our longing eyes are turned
    Up to thy bright pavillions: issue forth,
    And let thy holy feet visit our clime.
    Come o'er the eastern hills, and let our winds
    Kiss thy perfumed garments; let us taste
    Thy morn and evening breath; scatter thy pearls
    Upon our love-sick land that mourns for thee.
    O deck her forth with thy fair fingers; pour
    Thy soft kisses on her bosom; and put
    Thy golden crown upon her languish'd head,
    Whose modest tresses were bound up for thee!

    TO SUMMER.
    O thou, who passest thro' our vallies in
    Thy strength, curb thy fierce steeds, allay the heat
    That flames from their large nostrils! thou, O Summer,
    Oft pitched'st here thy golden tent, and oft
    Beneath our oaks hast slept, while we beheld
    With joy, thy ruddy limbs and flourishing hair.
    Beneath our thickest shades we oft have heard
    Thy voice, when noon upon his fervid car
    Rode o'er the deep of heaven; beside our springs
    Sit down, and in our mossy vallies, on
    Some bank beside a river clear, throw thy
    Silk draperies off, and rush into the stream:
    Our vallies love the Summer in his pride.
    Our bards are fam'd who strike the silver wire:
    Our youth are bolder than the southern swains:
    Our maidens fairer in the sprightly dance:
    We lack not songs, nor instruments of joy,
    Nor echoes sweet, nor waters clear as heaven,
    Nor laurel wreaths against the sultry heat.

    TO AUTUMN.
    O Autumn, laden with fruit, and stained
    With the blood of the grape, pass not, but sit
    Beneath my shady roof, there thou may'st rest,
    And tune thy jolly voice to my fresh pipe;
    And all the daughters of the year shall dance!
    Sing now the lusty song of fruits and flowers.
    "The narrow bud opens her beauties to
    The sun, and love runs in her thrilling veins;
    Blossoms hang round the brows of morning, and
    Flourish down the bright cheek of modest eve,
    Till clust'ring Summer breaks forth into singing,
    And feather'd clouds strew flowers round her head.
    The spirits of the air live on the smells
    Of fruit; and joy, with pinions light, roves round
    The gardens, or sits singing in the trees."
    Thus sang the jolly Autumn as he sat,
    Then rose, girded himself, and o'er the bleak
    Hills fled from our sight; but left his golden load.

    TO WINTER.
    O Winter! bar thine adamantine doors:
    The north is thine; there hast thou built thy dark
    Deep-founded habitation. Shake not thy roofs,
    Nor bend thy pillars with thine iron car.
    He hears me not, but o'er the yawning deep
    Rides heavy; his storms are unchain'd; sheathed
    In ribbed steel, I dare not lift mine eyes;
    For he hath rear'd his sceptre o'er the world.
    Lo! now the direful monster, whose skin clings
    To his strong bones, strides o'er the groaning rocks:
    He withers all in silence, and his hand
    Unclothes the earth, and freezes up frail life.
    He takes his seat upon the cliffs, the mariner
    Cries in vain. Poor little wretch! that deal'st
    With storms; till heaven smiles, and the monster
    Is driv'n yelling to his caves beneath mount Hecla.


    هل لي بترجمته ترجمة أدبية بما يتوافق مع جمالية الشعر ؟
  • هدى علي
    عضو منتسب
    • Mar 2013
    • 4

    #2
    استفسار

    كيف حالك إن شاء الله دائما بخير ؟
    المشاركة الأصلية بواسطة طالبة مشاهدة المشاركة
    TO SPRING\
    O thou, with dewy locks, who lookest down
    Thro' the clear windows of the morning; turn
    Thine angel eyes upon our western isle,
    Which in full choir hails thy approach, O Spring!
    The hills tell each other, and the list'ning
    Vallies hear; all our longing eyes are turned
    Up to thy bright pavillions: issue forth,
    And let thy holy feet visit our clime.
    Come o'er the eastern hills, and let our winds
    Kiss thy perfumed garments; let us taste
    Thy morn and evening breath; scatter thy pearls
    Upon our love-sick land that mourns for thee.
    O deck her forth with thy fair fingers; pour
    Thy soft kisses on her bosom; and put
    Thy golden crown upon her languish'd head,
    Whose modest tresses were bound up for thee!

    TO SUMMER.
    O thou, who passest thro' our vallies in
    Thy strength, curb thy fierce steeds, allay the heat
    That flames from their large nostrils! thou, O Summer,
    Oft pitched'st here thy golden tent, and oft
    Beneath our oaks hast slept, while we beheld
    With joy, thy ruddy limbs and flourishing hair.
    Beneath our thickest shades we oft have heard
    Thy voice, when noon upon his fervid car
    Rode o'er the deep of heaven; beside our springs
    Sit down, and in our mossy vallies, on
    Some bank beside a river clear, throw thy
    Silk draperies off, and rush into the stream:
    Our vallies love the Summer in his pride.
    Our bards are fam'd who strike the silver wire:
    Our youth are bolder than the southern swains:
    Our maidens fairer in the sprightly dance:
    We lack not songs, nor instruments of joy,
    Nor echoes sweet, nor waters clear as heaven,
    Nor laurel wreaths against the sultry heat.

    TO AUTUMN.
    O Autumn, laden with fruit, and stained
    With the blood of the grape, pass not, but sit
    Beneath my shady roof, there thou may'st rest,
    And tune thy jolly voice to my fresh pipe;
    And all the daughters of the year shall dance!
    Sing now the lusty song of fruits and flowers.
    "The narrow bud opens her beauties to
    The sun, and love runs in her thrilling veins;
    Blossoms hang round the brows of morning, and
    Flourish down the bright cheek of modest eve,
    Till clust'ring Summer breaks forth into singing,
    And feather'd clouds strew flowers round her head.
    The spirits of the air live on the smells
    Of fruit; and joy, with pinions light, roves round
    The gardens, or sits singing in the trees."
    Thus sang the jolly Autumn as he sat,
    Then rose, girded himself, and o'er the bleak
    Hills fled from our sight; but left his golden load.

    TO WINTER.
    O Winter! bar thine adamantine doors:
    The north is thine; there hast thou built thy dark
    Deep-founded habitation. Shake not thy roofs,
    Nor bend thy pillars with thine iron car.
    He hears me not, but o'er the yawning deep
    Rides heavy; his storms are unchain'd; sheathed
    In ribbed steel, I dare not lift mine eyes;
    For he hath rear'd his sceptre o'er the world.
    Lo! now the direful monster, whose skin clings
    To his strong bones, strides o'er the groaning rocks:
    He withers all in silence, and his hand
    Unclothes the earth, and freezes up frail life.
    He takes his seat upon the cliffs, the mariner
    Cries in vain. Poor little wretch! that deal'st
    With storms; till heaven smiles, and the monster
    Is driv'n yelling to his caves beneath mount Hecla.


    هل لي بترجمته ترجمة أدبية بما يتوافق مع جمالية الشعر ؟
    سيدتي هناك بعض الكلمات التي احتاج الى معناها كي اتمكن من الترجمة
    بالنسبة الى الخريف الكلمات هي
    may ,st
    clus,ring
    فلم احصل على معانيها من القاموس .و ساكون ممتنة لو زودتنا بمعاني الكلمات الغير موجودة بالقاموس لقدمها
    مودتي

    تعليق

    يعمل...
    X