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Seek foreign famous poems.
The Englishman william blake wrote this poem:

See the world from a grain of sand,

There is a heaven in a wild flower;

Hold infinity in the palm of your hand,

Eternity will melt in an hour.

Later, Mr Li Shutong translated it into?

A flower and a world,

One sand a day;

Your palm is infinite,

Instances contain eternal robbery.

Later, Mr. Wang Zuoliang translated: To see the world in a grain of sand and heaven in a flower, hold eternity in an hour and infinity in the palm of your hand.

In addition, there is a world in a grain of sand and a heaven in a flower. Hold infinity in the palm of your hand, and an instant is an eternal translation.

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I also recommend three songs written by Tagore, Pushkin and Shelley.

1. ode to the West Wind Shelley's most famous lyric poem.

1. ode to the west wind

I

Ah, wild west wind, you are the breath of autumn.

Leaves die before you can't see them.

Like a ghost fleeing from a wizard,

Yellow, black, pale, excited red,

Plague-ridden crowd! Oh, you

Who is riding in their dark and cold bed?

Winged seeds, they lie in cold and low places,

Every one is like a corpse in a grave until

Your blue sister will bloom in spring.

Her horn resounded through the land of dreams, filled with 10.

(Drive sweet buds like sheep foraging in the air)

Plains and hills exude vivid colors and smells;

Wild spirit, it is everywhere;

Destroyer and protector; Listen, listen!

two

Whose stream are you on, amid the turmoil of the steep sky? 15

Loose clouds like the rotten leaves of the earth are falling off,

Shake down from the tangled branches of heaven and sea,

Angels of rain and lightning! Have spread

On your light blue water,

Like bright hair rising from the head 20.

Some fierce m? Even on the dim edge

The height from the horizon to the zenith,

The lock of the coming storm. You elegy

In this year that is about to pass, in this night that is about to end.

Will be the dome of a huge tomb, 25

Hold up with all your gathered strength.

Steam, solid atmosphere

Black rain, fire and hail will break out: Oh, listen!

Roman numeral 3

You wake up from a summer dream.

The blue Mediterranean, where he lay, 30

Hypnotized by his crystal stream,

Next to a pumice island in white? S bay,

See ancient palaces and towers in my sleep.

Trembling in the rough day,

Are covered with blue moss and flowers.

Such a sweet, vague feeling depicts them! you

Whose road is powered by the water level in the Atlantic Ocean?

Split yourself into an abyss, and below.

Sea flowers and muddy Woods are worn away.

Leaves without juice in the ocean, you know?

Your voice, the fear of suddenly turning gray,

Trembling and despair: Oh, listen!

Intravenously injected

If I am a dead leaf, you can bear it;

If I were a cloud, I would fly with you;

A wave breathes under your strength, sharing 45.

The impulse of your strength, less freedom

Than you, oh, out of control! If even

I was in my teens, maybe.

Your partner roaming in heaven,

So, when did you exceed your speed by 50?

Scarcity seems to be a vision-I will never work hard.

It's like praying with you when I need it most

Oh! Lift me up, like waves, leaves and clouds!

I fell on the thorns of life! I am bleeding!

The heavy weight of time has chains and bows 55.

A person like you-unruly, agile and proud.

V

Let me be your harp, just like the forest;

What if my leaf falls like its own?

The noise of your powerful harmony

Will be from two late autumn tones, 60

Sweetness in sadness. You are a fierce soul,

My spirit! Be me, impulsive person!

Bring my dead thoughts into the universe,

Like withered leaves, accelerate rebirth;

According to the spell of this verse, 65

Scattered, as a fireplace that never goes out.

Ashes and sparks, my words in mankind!

Through my lips, to wake up the earth

The horn of prophecy! Oh, the wind,

If winter comes, can spring be far behind? 70

2. Song Collection (Chapter 1 of Gathering on Tibetan Rites) Tagore's famous works.

You make me live forever, which is your happiness. You empty this fragile container again and again, and fill it with new life again and again.

This little reed flute, you take it over the mountains and valleys, and blow out a fresh melody forever.

Under the immortal touch of your hands, my little heart lost its boundaries in joy and gave birth to unspeakable words.

Your infinite gift only comes to me in my little hand. As time goes by, you are still dumping, and there is still room to fill.

3. Pushkin's I loved you, a euphemistic love poem.

"I love you ..."

I love you, maybe I still love you,

This feeling may last for a while. ...

But let my love stop bothering you,

I don't want to cause you any pain.

I loved you; The despair I know,

Jealousy, shyness-though futile-

Created such a gentle and true love

May God grant you to be loved again.