Cao Xueqin only published one novel in his life - "A Dream of Red Mansions", so he is known as one of China's greatest writers. In the United States, there is also a poet who only published one collection of poems in his life, but is known as the greatest poet in the United States. This person is Whitman, and this book is called "Leaves of Grass". Different from previous American high-brow poets' imitation of British poetry, and different from those so-called elegant poetry styles that express small emotions, Whitman is unique and created a style called free verse. of poetry. He makes good use of the various changes in short sentences, the frequent use of overlapping sentences and parallel sentences, and the symbolic intentions that can be seen everywhere, making Whitman's poems like a breath of fresh air into the American poetry world. He is not limited to court affairs, but prefers to use detailed language to describe the lives of working people, and to discover subtle poetic meanings in ordinary and great lives. The language elements are even more diverse. Whitman is good at using the spoken language of the working people, and his use of foreign words is also bold and delicate. It is precisely because of the emergence of Whitman that American poetry has become independent in a proud manner and has its own land in the world of poetry. I carefully read a collection of Whitman's poems (the one I read was translated by Li Shiqi). After reading it, I found Chu Tunan's translation of my favorite poems on the Internet. Personally, I prefer Chu Tunan's. (Translation) After summarizing, there are three favorites: "A Silent and Persevering Spider", "I Hear America Singing", and "Ah, Captain, My Captain". Why? Please listen to me carefully. (1) "A Silent and Persistent Spider" A silent and persevering spider, I saw it on a small island and isolated from all sides, I saw how it explored the open surroundings, it Wisps of silk emanated from his body. Eternally idle—never tired of being busy. And you, oh my soul, where you are, surrounded by the ocean of infinite space, you are constantly meditating, adventuring, exploring, looking for areas to connect these oceans until you need it. The bridge is made, until you set your pliable anchor, until the hairspring you let out catches somewhere, oh, my soul! TED once conducted an experiment, recording the poem read with different emotions into audio, and giving it to three different animation studios to make animations based on the audio. This is the URL: /v/35829478. In the first production, "I" looked at the spider like a god, just like the soul looking at the body. What I saw was the dance of a broken soul, calm and crazy, quietly observing in the dark, But it never forgets to resist. It puts the body on an isolated island, looks at the surroundings with the unique American will of exploration and freedom, and constantly exudes strands of threads from the body, "Forever three - never tire of "Busy", the spider that is willing to be lonely, the soul that is unwilling to be lonely, calmly and resolutely constitute this silent and persevering spider. Whitman was really an ordinary individual, a printer's apprentice, a teacher, a reporter, an employee of the Ministry of the Interior... Even in the years after "Leaves of Grass" was first released, this masterpiece was not well received. Loved by everyone, he and his works are like this silent and persevering spider, tirelessly spreading out strands of silk in every square inch, bit by bit with a restless soul unwilling to be lonely. He explores and touches freely, interpreting the world in his own language. From this point of view, Whitman is a romantic poet who bases his feelings on realism. We call him a transcendentalist poet. This is also consistent with the era in which he lived - the period of change between transcendentalism and realism. Let’s take a look at the definition of transcendentalism: The core view of transcendentalism is that people can transcend feelings and reason and directly know the truth, emphasizing the importance of intuition. He believes that everything in the human world is a microcosm of the universe - "the world shrinks itself into a drop of dew" (Emerson's words). Transcendentalists emphasize the essential unity of all things, that all things are subject to the "oversoul", and that the human soul is consistent with the "oversoul". This affirmation of the divinity of man made transcendentalists defy external authority and tradition and rely on their own direct experience. "Believe in thyself", Emerson's famous saying, became the motto of the Transcendentalists. This transcendentalist view emphasizes human subjective initiative, helps break the shackles of Calvinistic dogmas such as "human nature is evil" and "predestination", and lays the ideological foundation for romantic literature that is passionate and expresses individuality. Whitman undoubtedly has such characteristics. He is ordinary, calm, aloof, gentle and unique. The definition of transcendentalism made me see again the staring figure who is detached from the spider itself in the first production. Eyes, you know, this poet, when most people said "no", when other poets dismissed his theory and looked down upon him, he was sober, "believe in yourself", he did It's spot on, this is a calm, stoic, fervent soul. The second production is more straightforward. It may be because the reciter's gradual comfort is different from the struggle in the first production, which allows the producer to relax and think slowly, so there are no spiders in it. He has become a real person. The lenses he explores are messy and blurry, like a spider standing on an isolated island, like the sea throwing out silver threads. It is confused and messy like the environment in which the body is located. Fortunately, The always bright and calm soul is still there, flickering in the fog, firmly.
The thrown threads are also more concrete - steps into the distance, wearing slippers - still inconspicuous - but without hesitation. Perhaps this is the poet himself, who wanders around the world throughout his life, constantly throwing out threads, "until the bridge you need is built, until you set your flexible anchor, until the hairspring you let out catches somewhere", using his soul Get to know the soul, "Ah, my soul!", especially the light radiating in the last sentence "O my soul." I don’t like the third production very much, it’s too rigid and hard, so I won’t elaborate on it here. (2) "I Hear America Singing" I heard America singing, I heard all kinds of songs, those songs of mechanical workers, everyone sang his naturally happy and majestic song, the carpenter weighed the plasterer sings his song as he prepares to start work or leaves work, the boatman sings his song on his ship, the deckhand sings his song on the deck of a steamer Singing, the shoemaker sings sitting on his stool, the hat maker sings standing, the woodcutter's song, the song sung by the child leading the farm animals walking down the road in the morning, lunch break or at sunset, the mother or young wife at work or the songs sung sweetly by girls as they sew or wash; each one sings a song that belongs to him or her and no one else, and during the day the song belongs to the day - and at night the group is strong, The young guys who got along well sang their majestic and sweet songs at the top of their lungs. (Translated by Zou Jiang) I couldn't find the version translated by Chu Tunan. It may be a website problem, but I also like this version quite a lot. The translation has a leisurely and comfortable style. I really like the idea of ??this poem - the singing of America, when implemented in real life, is the singing of every ordinary soul. This kind of singing makes people feel refreshed when reading it. Whitman in this poem is like a bard in ancient Greece, wandering and unrestrained, but instead of telling legends, he only talks about ordinary things. Using "I Hear America Singing" as the title makes me think Whitman is a bit cute. Such a naughty and straightforward confession is like a boy's silly "I like you", and this poem is also as innocent as a lover. The carols are leisurely and free, exuding a youthful and beautiful atmosphere. The machinist's song, the carpenter's song, the plasterer's song, the boatman's song, the sailor's song, the shoemaker's song, the hat-maker's song, the woodcutter's song, the shepherd's song, the woman's song, the day's song, the young man's song The song... No unnecessary elaboration, no fancy words, I heard America singing. I seem to see the poet running curiously and cheerfully like a child returning home from school, singing along with the songs, or like the spider in "A Silent Perseverance Spider", building bridges one after another while groping, arriving at One by one, like the clear murmur of a young man in love, he slowly outlines the country's forehead, bright eyes, bridge of nose, and lips... This is the United States in Whitman's eyes, exuding freedom and joy. The breath exudes the fragrance of an independent soul. This kind of whispering pure love makes you have to follow his footsteps and follow his love. (3) "Oh, Captain, my Captain" Oh, Captain, my Captain! Our perilous voyage is over, our ship has weathered the stormy waters, and the reward we seek is within our grasp. The port is not far away, I have heard the bells ringing, and thousands of people are cheering and shouting, watching our ship returning calmly, our ship is majestic and brave. But, my heart! Heart! Heart! Oh, dripping red blood, on the deck, there lies my captain, fallen, dead, cooled. Oh, Captain, my Captain! Get up, please listen to the bell, get up, - the flag will be waved for you - the horn will sound for you. For you, the shore is crowded with people - for you, there are countless bouquets, ribbons, and garlands. The bustling crowd is calling for you, turning many eager faces. Here, Captain! Dear father! Under your head are my arms! This is a dream on the deck, you have fallen, dead, cooled. Our captain does not answer, his lips are pale and silent, my father cannot feel my arm, he has no pulse, no life, our ship is safely anchored, the voyage is complete, it is over, the victorious ship is gone from Returning from a perilous journey, what we seek has been won. Hail, O coast! Roar, oh, Hong Zhong! However, I moved my sad steps lightly, and on the deck, there lay my captain, he had fallen, dead, and cooled. (Translated by Jiang Feng) I like this poem very much, but I don’t dare to write it because I feel that I may not be qualified and need to rest every time I read it. The sadness under the cheers is so heavy that I feel breathless, so that now I don’t want to savor it anymore. How could anyone dismiss Whitman's poetry? He is obviously a master at digging into emotions. Sometimes he moves forward, sometimes he moves steadily, sometimes he moves step by step. He pulls you inch by inch into his emotional world like a swamp. If he rolls around in hell, he will definitely make you feel bone-cutting pain. . You know, just like in the poem, the United States lost their "captain" after the assassination of Abraham Lincoln. Abraham Lincoln (English: Abraham Lincoln, February 12, 1809 - April 15, 1865) was an American politician and the 16th President of the United States. During his term as president, a civil war broke out in the United States, known as the Civil War in history.
Lincoln abolished slavery in the southern states, but after the Civil War, several northern states that supported the federal government were still allowed by Lincoln to continue to maintain slavery. Lincoln defeated the secessionist forces in the South and upheld the equal rights of all men, regardless of race, in the Union and its territories. Shortly after the end of the Civil War, Lincoln was assassinated. He was the first U.S. president to be assassinated, and the first Republican and party president. He was once ranked as one of the greatest presidents. America Online held a voting event in 2005 - "The Greatest American", and Lincoln was selected as the second greatest American figure. Ranked No. 1 among the 100 most influential people in the United States by the authoritative American journal "The Atlantic Monthly". On the front of the latest $5 bill is a picture of Abraham Lincoln. I feel it is necessary to review the brief introduction of Lincoln's deeds again, because only in this way can we understand the profound significance of the captain to the sailors and the greatest significance of Lincoln to the United States. The following explanations are all based on this symbolic meaning, and feel Whitman's reflection, gratitude, and mourning for President Lincoln. The whole poem is divided into three parts. The ship returning from the adventure slowly docked and finally anchored. Part one. The emotion is intense, and a heroic voyage is about to end triumphantly. "Our ship has sailed through the stormy seas safely, and the reward we seek has been won." Perhaps before I saw the surging crowd on the shore, "I" only felt a low sadness in my heart. But when the ship was about to dock, the sadness in my heart almost turned into anger. On one side, "Thousands of people were cheering and shouting." ", and on the other side "On the deck, there lies my captain, he has fallen, dead, and cooled", the difficult and great voyage finally ended victoriously, "Our dangerous voyage is over, our ship is safe. Through the stormy waves, the reward we seek has been won. "However, the captain, my captain, sleeps coldly forever. In this strong contrast, the poet's emotions become strong and turbulent, and the regrets and sorrows of life are nothing but " "It's too late." After a long battle in the wind and rain, it was finally completed, but the captain could no longer feel it. President Lincoln during the Civil War, just like the captain, completed the dangerous voyage bravely and resolutely. He was the people and the country. , even the leader of a nation, such a character, such a great "captain", has fallen, died, and cooled down in the cheering crowd. At the end of this part, the author's sadness and pathos reach the top of this part, and then go up to the next section - "Oh, Captain, my Captain! Get up, please listen to the bell, get up , - the flags are fluttering for you - the horns are sounding for you. For you, the shore is crowded with people - for you, countless bouquets, ribbons, and garlands are calling, and how many eager voices are turning. Face", the strong call is like a cry from the soul, I wish you could take a look, just like what is said on Weibo - "This prosperous age is as you wish", but you can never wake up again. "Here, Captain! Dear father! Under your head are my arms! This is a dream on the deck. You have fallen, died, and have cooled." The poet here is almost crazy, and the father and captain himself They are two words, but in the poet's almost incoherent language, the three concepts of "President Lincoln, Captain, and Father" are almost naturally unified together, so close, so warm, and so painful. The poet in the third stanza slowly calms down in extreme madness, like a beast licking its wounds in a dense forest, or feeling the beating of the pulse on the moist land in the dark night. This is the echo of the collision of blunt instruments, like Paris Quasimodo's bell in Notre Dame. Different from the descriptions in the first two parts, the author starts with describing the captain, and once again reviews the entire voyage - under the "captain"'s head is "my" arm - the arm that cannot be felt, the weight of history It needs to be remembered. After the fierceness, there is more pain buried in the heart. In the dense forest of the soul, place a coffin that will never be opened. "Cheers, oh, coast! Roar, oh, Hongzhong! However, I lightly move the sadness away." steps, on the deck, there lies my captain, fallen, dead, cooled." "I" am about to leave and continue living, but I clearly hear the thunderous roar of the torrent of history. What kind of grief is this? It is not as intense as the previous two sections, but it sublimates the emotion to the limit - I didn't want you to Scream with me, but curl up in the hell of memory. The poet's mourning and love for President Lincoln reached the extreme. Whitman is undoubtedly great, a kind of greatness that "walks forward". He is like a silent and stoic spider, looking at himself with the height of his soul and feeling the country he loves deeply with his pure heart; he is as experienced as a spider in the silk hole, pulling you step by step into the emotional mudslide, and then He is as simple as a baby singing carefree nursery rhymes; he is as ordinary as the mediocre people in the world, and like a grasshopper jumping over blades of grass admiring his smooth tongs. I like people like this.