英文诗歌：The Writer

时间：2021-01-23 08:27:52 英文诗歌我要投稿

英文诗歌：The Writer

　　The Writer

英文诗歌：The Writer

　　by Richard Wilbur

　　In her room at the prow of the house

上海油压工作室　　Where light breaks， and the windows are tossed with linden，

　　My daughter is writing a story.

上海油压工作室　　I pause in the stairwell， hearing

上海油压工作室　　From her shut door a commotion of typewriter-keys

　　Like a chain hauled over a gunwale.

　　Young as she is， the stuff

　　Of her life is a great cargo， and some of it heavy：

　　I wish her a lucky passage.

　　But now it is she who pauses，

　　As if to reject my thought and its easy figure.

　　A stillness greatens， in which

　　The whole house seems to be thinking，

上海油压工作室　　And then she is at it again with a bunched clamor

上海油压工作室　　Of strokes， and again is silent.

上海油压工作室　　I remember the dazed starling

上海油压工作室　　Which was trapped in that very room， two years ago；

　　How we stole in， lifted a sash

　　And retreated， not to affright it；

上海油压工作室　　And how for a helpless hour， through the crack of the door，

　　We watched the sleek， wild， dark

上海油压工作室　　And iridescent creature

　　Batter against the brilliance， drop like a glove

上海油压工作室　　To the hard floor， or the desk-top，

　　And wait then， humped and bloody，

上海油压工作室　　For the wits to try it again； and how our spirits

　　Rose when， suddenly sure，

上海油压工作室　　It lifted off from a chair-back，

　　Beating a smooth course for the right window

上海油压工作室　　And clearing the sill of the world.

上海油压工作室　　It is always a matter， my darling，

　　Of life or death， as I had forgotten. I wish

　　What I wished you before， but harder.

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