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Dover Beach

Matthew Arnold

The sea is calm to-night.
The tide is full, the moon lies fair
Upon the straits;--on the French coast the light
Gleams and is gone; the cliffs of England stand,
Glimmering and vast, out in the tranquil bay.
Come to the window, sweet is the night air!
Only, from the long line of spray
Where the sea meets the moon-blanch'd land,
Listen! you hear the grating roar
Of pebbles which the waves draw back, and fling,
At their return, up the high strand,
Begin, and cease, and then again begin,
With tremulous cadence slow, and bring
The eternal note of sadness in.

Sophocles long ago
Heard it on the {AE}gean, and it brought
Into his mind the turbid ebb and flow
Of human misery; we
Find also in the sound a thought,
Hearing it by this distant northern sea.

The Sea of Faith
Was once, too, at the full, and round earth's shore
Lay like the folds of a bright girdle furl'd.
But now I only hear
Its melancholy, long, withdrawing roar,
Retreating, to the breath
Of the night-wind, down the vast edges drear
And naked shingles of the world.

Ah, love, let us be true
To one another! for the world, which seems
To he before us like a land of dreams,
So various, so beautiful, so new,
Hath really neither joy, nor love, nor light,

Nor certitude, nor peace, nor help for pain;
And we are here as on a darkling plain
Swept with confused alarms of struggle and flight,
Where ignorant armies clash by night.

 

 

داور بيچ[1]

چه آرام امشب اين دريا.

كه مد آن دمادم، ماه

در آغوش دريا آرميده،

بس زيبا؛

كورسويي بر ساحل[2]، پرتو افكند هر دم،

و يك دم محو مي گردد،

چه محكم صخره ها اينجا،

ايستاده بر خليج ساكن و آرام،

درخشان...، پر وسعت!!!

بيا اينجا، كنار پنجره، چه شيرين اين هواي شب...

ولي انگار: گوش جان بسپار!...

صداي غرش تير آساي موج غلتان را

كه از خط طويل آب بر لب ساحل،

مي ستاند سنگها از صخره ها،

پا پس مي كشد زان پس

 و ديگر بار در برگشت،

مي افكند آنرا تا سر حد ساحل ها...

شروع يك آن، ايست، وانگاه شروعي ديگر اندر راه،

با وزني چنان آهسته و لرزان،

فرا مي خواند آن سرمدي آهنگ محزون را.

 

كه خيلي قبل، اندر درياي ايجينا[3]،

شنيد آنرا سوفكل[4].

يادش آورد، آن اهنگ محزون

جزر و مد رنج انسان را.

مي يابيم ما اينك در اين آوا،

چنان انديشه اي؛

اين آواي گنگ از شمالين بحر دور.

 

بحر ايمان

بود انگه در مد كامل؛

بر گرفته اين زمين همچو يك حلقه ي مرصع

مامني امن.

ليك اينك،

غرش حزن انگيز اين دريا،

به گوشم مي رسد تنها.

 

آه، اي عشق، بيا راستين،

بهرهم باشيم.

كه اين دنيا كه همچون دشت روياها

پيش پامان سفره گسترده

بس زيبا، بس تازه، بس الوان،

ندارد بهره اي از نور و عشق و سرمستي،

نه صلحي، نه يقيني، نه حتي ياوري بر درد؛

و ما اينجا در اين آشفته بازار گريز و جهد،

فنا گرديم؛ چنان گويي كه بر تيرگي دشت اش،

نيروهاي اهريمن نباشد سازگار با شب.

 

متيو آرنولد



[1] Dover Beach اسم ساحلي مرزي در انگلستان

[2] ساحل فرانسه

[3]

[4] Sophocles

+ نوشته شده در  جمعه 24 خرداد1387ساعت 8:52  توسط شبنم | 
O WILD West Wind, thou breath of Autumn's being  
  Thou from whose unseen presence the leaves dead  
Are driven like ghosts from an enchanter fleeing,  
 
  Yellow, and black, and pale, and hectic red,  
Pestilence-stricken multitudes! O thou          5
  Who chariotest to their dark wintry bed  
 
The wingèd seeds, where they lie cold and low,  
  Each like a corpse within its grave, until  
Thine azure sister of the Spring shall blow  
 
  Her clarion o'er the dreaming earth, and fill   10
(Driving sweet buds like flocks to feed in air)  
  With living hues and odours plain and hill;  
 
Wild Spirit, which art moving everywhere;  
Destroyer and preserver; hear, O hear!  
 
II


Thou on whose stream, 'mid the steep sky's commotion,
  15
  Loose clouds like earth's decaying leaves are shed,  
Shook from the tangled boughs of heaven and ocean,  
 
  Angels of rain and lightning! there are spread  
On the blue surface of thine airy surge,  
  Like the bright hair uplifted from the head   20
 
Of some fierce Mænad, even from the dim verge  
  Of the horizon to the zenith's height,  
The locks of the approaching storm. Thou dirge  
 
  Of the dying year, to which this closing night  
Will be the dome of a vast sepulchre,   25
  Vaulted with all thy congregated might  
 
Of vapours, from whose solid atmosphere  
Black rain, and fire, and hail, will burst: O hear!  
 
III


Thou who didst waken from his summer dreams
 
  The blue Mediterranean, where he lay,   30
Lull'd by the coil of his crystàlline streams,  
 
  Beside a pumice isle in Baiæ's bay,  
And saw in sleep old palaces and towers  
  Quivering within the wave's intenser day,  
 
All overgrown with azure moss, and flowers   35
  So sweet, the sense faints picturing them! Thou  
For whose path the Atlantic's level powers  
 
  Cleave themselves into chasms, while far below  
The sea-blooms and the oozy woods which wear  
  The sapless foliage of the ocean, know   40
 
Thy voice, and suddenly grow gray with fear,  
And tremble and despoil themselves: O hear!  
 
IV


If I were a dead leaf thou mightest bear;
 
  If I were a swift cloud to fly with thee;  
A wave to pant beneath thy power, and share   45
 
  The impulse of thy strength, only less free  
Than thou, O uncontrollable! if even  
  I were as in my boyhood, and could be  
 
The comrade of thy wanderings over heaven,  
  As then, when to outstrip thy skiey speed   50
Scarce seem'd a vision—I would ne'er have striven  
 
  As thus with thee in prayer in my sore need.  
O! lift me as a wave, a leaf, a cloud!  
  I fall upon the thorns of life! I bleed!  
 
A heavy weight of hours has chain'd and bow'd   55
One too like thee—tameless, and swift, and proud.  
 
V


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,   60
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 incantation of this verse,   65
 
  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! O Wind,  
If Winter comes, can Spring be far behind?   70
 
+ نوشته شده در  یکشنبه 9 اردیبهشت1386ساعت 10:40  توسط شبنم | 

 

کشاورز سالخورده ای داشت با بدخلقی به ویرانه های سیل می نگریست. همسایه اش فریاد زد:هی! آب تمام خوک هایت را به پایین خلیج برده است.

کشاورز پرسید:خوک های تامپسن چه شده اند؟

- آنها را هم آب برده.

- و خوک های لارسن؟

- بله.

کشاورز با خوشحالی فریاد زد: به آن بدی هم که من فکر میکردم نیست.

 

 

+ نوشته شده در  پنجشنبه 6 اردیبهشت1386ساعت 1:53  توسط شبنم | 

Sonnet 144  William Shakespear

 

Two loves I have of comfort and despair,
Which like two spirits do suggest me still:
The better angel is a man right fair,
The worser spirit a woman colour'd ill.
To win me soon to hell, my female evil
Tempteth my better angel from my side,
And would corrupt my saint to be a devil,
Wooing his purity with her foul pride.
And whether that my angel be turn'd fiend
Suspect I may, but not directly tell;
But being both from me, both to each friend,
I guess one angel in another's hell:
Yet this shall I ne'er know, but live in doubt,
Till my bad angel fire my good one out.

 

 

+ نوشته شده در  دوشنبه 2 بهمن1385ساعت 22:37  توسط شبنم | 

On Shakespeare, 1630

What needs my Shakespeare for his honoured bones
The labour of an age in pilèd stones?
Or that his hallowed relics should be hid
Under a star-ypointing pyramid?
Dear son of memory, great heir of fame,
What need'st thou such weak witness of thy name?
Thou in our wonder and astonishment
Has built thyself a livelong monument.
For whilst, to the shame of slow-endeavouring art,
Thy easy numbers flow, and that each heart
Hath from the leaves of thy unvalued book
Those Delphic lines with deep impression took,
Then thou, our fancy of itself bereaving,
Dost make us marble with too much conceiving,
And so sepúlchred in such pomp dost lie
That kings for such a tomb would wish to die.
+ نوشته شده در  شنبه 25 آذر1385ساعت 12:56  توسط شبنم | 

A MEDITATION UPON A BROOMSTICK

By
Jonathan Swift

Jonathan Swift (1667 - 1745) was born in Dublin, Ireland, and is probably best known for his book, Gulliver's Travels.

This short piece about a broomstick was written in 1704 as a burlesque on Robert Boyle's Meditations

 

This single stick, which you now behold ingloriously lying in that neglected corner, I once knew in a flourishing state in a forest;  it was full of sap, full of leaves, and full of boughs; but now, in vain does the busy art of man pretend to vie with nature, by tying that withered bundle of twigs to its sapless trunk;  'tis now, at best, but the reverse of what it was, a tree turned upside down, the branches on the earth, and the root in the air;  'tis now handled by every dirty wench, condemned to do her drudgery, and, by a capricious kind of fate, destined to make other things clean, and be nasty itself: at length, worn to the stumps in the service of the maids, it is either thrown out of doors, or condemned to the last use, of kindling a fire.  When I beheld this I sighed, and said within myself,  Surely man is a Broomstick!  Nature sent him into the world strong and lusty, in a thriving condition, wearing his own hair on his head, the proper branches of this reasoning vegetable, until the axe of intemperance has lopped off his green boughs, and left him a withered trunk: he then flies to art, and puts on a periwig, valuing himself upon an unnatural bundle of hairs (all covered with powder) that never grew on his head; but now, should this our broomstick pretend to enter the scene, proud of those birchen spoils it never bore, and all covered with dust, though the sweepings of the finest lady's chamber, we should be apt to ridicule and despise its vanity.  Partial judges that we are of our own excellencies, and other men's defaults!

But a broomstick, perhaps, you will say, is an emblem of a tree standing on its head; and pray what is man, but a topsyturvy creature, his animal faculties perpetually mounted on his rational, his head where his heels should be, groveling on the earthand yet, with all his faults, he sets up to be a universal reformer and corrector of abuses, a remover of grievances, rakes into every slut's corner of Nature, bringing hidden corruption to the light, and raises a mighty dust where there was none before; sharing deeply all the while in the very same pollutions he pretends to sweep away:  his last days are spent in slavery to women, and generally the least deserving, till, worn out to the stumps, like his brother besom, he is either kicked out of doors, or made use of to kindle flames for others to warm themselves by.

 

+ نوشته شده در  شنبه 11 آذر1385ساعت 12:33  توسط شبنم | 
 

ممنون از کمنت هاتون...این هم توضیحی در مورد رسول یونان شاعر ، مترجم ، نمايش نامه و داستان نويس ...

من رسول هستم پسر محمد. در دهکده ای دور کنار دریاچه چی چست به دنیا آمده ام و همه اش سی و سه سال دارم. فعلا ساکن تهران هستم و اضافه کنم که به طور کاملا شانسی از اینجا سردرآوردم یعنی اگر تنها اتوبوس دهکده به شهر دیگری جای شهر تهران می رفت حتما الان آنجا بودم. باقی جزئیات زندگی ام را در کتاب هایم خرد کرده ام.

کتاب ها:

- روز بخیر محبوب من ( مجموعه شعر )

- کلبه ای در مزرعه برفی ( مجموعه داستان )

- گندمزار دور ( نمایشنامه )

- کنسرت در جهنم ( مجموعه شعر )

- بنرجی چرا خودکشی کرد؟ ( رمان – شعر از ناظم حکمت)

- یک کاسه عسل ( گزینه شعر ناظم حکمت)

- روزهای چوبی ( گزینه شعر جهان)

- من يك پسر بد بود (مجموعه شعر ) /زیر چاپ

- فرشته‌ها (26 داستان ميني‌مال)

- سايه‌ي نقره‌يي (ترجمه‌ي شعر معاصر آذربايجان ايران)

- شعرهاي عزيز نسين

- واگن سياه (نوشته‌ي وكير يلديز)

- قصه‌ي كوچك عشق (يك داستان كوتاه)

يونان اين روزها به ويرايش رمانش - «ليلا دير كرده» - مشغول است.

+ نوشته شده در  شنبه 11 آذر1385ساعت 11:51  توسط شبنم | 

 

 

قول بده که خواهی آمد

اما هرگز نیا

اگر بیایی

همه چیز خراب میشود

دیگر نمیتوانم

اینگونه با اشتیاق

به دریا و جاده خیره شوم

من خو کرده ام

به این انتظارها

به این پرسه زدن ها

در اسکلت و ایستگاه

اگر بیایی

من چشم به راه چه کسی بمانم؟

 

 

رسول یونان

+ نوشته شده در  دوشنبه 29 آبان1385ساعت 16:34  توسط شبنم | 

تو از من يه فرشته ساختی

يه فرشته ی بلوری

اما اون

يهو افتاد و شكست

ذره ذره شد

يه ذره ی كوچيكی از اون

اومد و رفت تو دل من

تو تموم وجودم پخش شد

من يه فرشته شدم

اما اين بار تو ديگه بهش دست نزدی

می ترسيدی كه يهو بيفته و بشكنه
+ نوشته شده در  یکشنبه 9 مهر1385ساعت 5:18  توسط شبنم | 

خيلي ها ليست منابع ارشد رو خواسته بودند. اين ليست كتابهايي كه خووندنشون براي كنكور كارشناسي ارشد رشته ي  آموزش زبان انگليسي  توصيه ميشه. اين ليست رو از استاد راهنمامون گرفتم. ليست literature هم براتون ميزارم.

 

Many reference books are used in preparing this book. The following list includes the ones which are particularly used in this respect. It should be noted that these sources are not exhaustive and answers might be found in many other books. The references are numbered to correspond to ones used in the text.

 

 

  1. Akmajian, A., Demers, R.A., Farmer, A.K., and Harnish, R.M.(1995). Liguistics: An Introduction to Language and Communication. The MIT Press.

 

  1. Atchison, J. (1978). Teach Yourself Linguistics. Hodder & Stoughton.

 

  1. Bowen J., Madsen, H. and Hilferty, A. (1985). TESOL: Techniques and Procedures. Newbury House Publishers, Inc.

 

  1. Brown, d. (1994). Principles of Language Learning and Teaching. Prentice Hall Regents.

 

  1. Brown, G. and Yule, G.(1983). Discourse Analysis. Cambridge University Press.

 

  1. Celce-Murcia, M.(ed.)  (1991). Teaching English as a Second or Foreign Language. Heinle and publishers.

 

  1. Chastain, K. (1988) Developing Second Language Skills . Harcourt Brace Jovanovich.

 

  1. Cook, V. (1991). Second Language Learning and Language Teaching. Routiedge, Chapman and Hall Inc.

 

  1. Crystal, D. (1980). A Dictionary of Linguistics and Phonetics. Blackwell Publishers.

 

  1. Crystal, D. (1992). An Encyclopedic Dictionary of Language and Languages. Blackwell publishers.

 

  1. Falk, J. (1973). Linguistic and Language. John Wiley and Sons, Inc.

 

  1. Farhady H. (1995). Class Lectures.

 

  1. Farhady H., Jafarpur, A. and Birjandi, P.(1994). Testing Language Skills. SAMT.

 

  1. Fromkin, V. and Rodman, R. (1988). An Introduction to Language. Holt, Reinhart and Winiston, Inc.

 

  1. Harris, D. (1996). Testing English as a Second Language Mc.Graw-hill.

 

  1. Hatch, E. and Farhady, H. (1981). Research Design and Statistics for Applied Linguistics. Newbury House Publishers.

 

  1. Heaton, J.B. (1988). Writing English Language Tests. Longman.

 

  1. James, C. (1980). Contrastive Analysis. Longman.

 

  1. Ladefoged, P. (1975). A Course in Phonetics. Harcourt Brace JOvanovish.

 

  1. Lyons, J. (1981). Language and Linguistocs. Cambridge University Press.

 

  1. Madsen, H. (1983). Techniques in Testing. Oxford University Press.

 

  1. Mousavi, S.A. (1997). A Dictionary of Language Testing. Tehran: Rahnama publications.

 

  1. Radford, A. (1988). Transformational Grammar. Cambridge University Press.

 

  1. Radford, A. (1997). Syntax: A Minimalist Introdction. Cambridge University Press.

 

  1. Richards, J., Platt, J., and Platt, H. (1992). Longman Dictionary of Language Teaching and Applied Linguistics. Longman.

 

  1. Richards, J.C. and Rodgers, T. (1986). Approaches and Methods in Language Teaching. Cambridge University Press.

 

  1. Rivers, W.M. (1981). Teaching Foreign Language Skills. University of Chicago Press.

 

  1. Stem, H.H. (1983). Fundamental Concepts of Language Teaching. Oxford University Press.

 

  1. Trask, R.L. (1993). A Dictionary of Grammatical Terms in Linguistics. Routledge.

 

  1. Yule, G. (1985). The Study of Language. Cambridge University Press
+ نوشته شده در  جمعه 24 شهریور1385ساعت 2:39  توسط شبنم | 
 
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پست الکترونیک
آرشیو
درباره وبلاگ
I am a twenty two-year-old girl from Tabriz, Iran. I am studying English Literature in one of my city`s public universities.My major gives me the opportunity to look the world from the other side of view.I hope you enjoy visiting my weblog.I will be glad to know your comments on my weblog,news and whatever you like.

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