father - home

first day:

I've seen you cry - those piercing black eyes

dripping crystal tears,

In my imagination, it turns into a black tulip

Dripping clear morning dew.

I've seen you smile - a shining gem

The luster is also dimmed,

How can I match your sweet glance

That flexible and flickering flame!

Like the setting sun to the clouds near and far

Dyed with a beautiful glow,

Neither can the coming dusk

Chasing the glow out of the sky:

Your smile makes a depressed heart

share his innocent joy,

The sun left a light

Flash over the mind.

-Byron "I've seen you cry"

the next day:

……

If we could mourn as before,

My tears will well up;

Thinking of me not being around, not being able to

to guard your sickbed,

Looking at your face with pity,

Embracing your feeble body,

Lift up your bowed head,

Confess the love in my heart to you——

This illusory love is here now!

……

-Byron, "You Are Long Dead"

The third day:

……

Looking at each other in a way no one has ever seen;

A faint smile that no one can understand;

The murmuring thoughts of the two hearts of the alliance;

Trembling hands touch and embrace;

Our kiss, pure and innocent,

It is love that curbs eager longing;

The eyes reveal the purity of the soul,

Even passion is ashamed to tell the wish.

……

——Byron "To Sasha"

Fourth day:

we will no longer wander

In that late night,

Although the heart still loves,

The moonlight is still bright and clear.

Sharp arrows wear the scabbard,

The soul also wears out the chest; (Note)

My heart is tired, I need to relax,

Love also needs rest.

The night is for love,

The day returns in a blink of an eye,

but we don't wander anymore

Bathed in the moonlight.

(Note: Using "sword" as a metaphor for the soul and "sheath" as a metaphor for the body are common metaphors used by Europeans.)

-Byron "We shall linger no more" 1817

Day [-]:

When shadows and hazes envelop all around,

"Reason" quietly hides the light,

"Hope" flickers a dying flame,

I am lost in solitude.

When a fierce struggle unfolds within,

When the soul faces dark midnight,

Terrible cruelty is called generosity,

The weak despair, the indifferent bid farewell;

When bad luck comes, love goes far away,

The sharp arrows of hatred are all fired;

You are my one and only starlight,

Hanging high in the night sky, never falling.

Thanks to your ever-singing flame,

Like the bright eyes of an angel, guard me,

Standing between me and the night,

The end of the world is close at hand, and the Qinghui will stay forever.

When dark clouds roll overhead,

I try my best to cover up your bright brilliance,

Your distant brilliance is more pure,

Drive away all the shadows around you.

Your heart came down to my heart to teach:

What is to be brave, what is to be tolerant;

A soft whisper from you will cancel

The despicable accusations the world has made against me.

……

let any bad luck befall me,

Do not let you encounter disaster;

The sunny heaven will pay for it

Merciful Holy One - you are the first!

……

——Byron "Letter to Augusta (1816)" [-]

Day [-]:

My auspicious days are gone forever,

The stars of my destiny are falling,

Your kind heart never found

The faults of which all accuse me.

Your heart knows my pain,

But not shy away, willing to partake with me,

the kind of love my heart pictured

Look nowhere—except in your heart.

The surrounding nature smiles,

This is the last smile it answered me,

I can't believe he's cheating,

Just because I think of your smiling face.

When the winds hit the ocean (as

my trusting breast assaults me),

What did the waves make me feel?

That's it - the waves, separate you from me!

The cornerstone of my last hope is broken,

Debris sank to the bottom;

The soul has been given to pain to deal with,

But it is never a slave to pain.

All kinds of misery will come after me:

They can destroy but never insult,

They can torture, but they can't subdue me--

I only think of you; think of them?unworthy!

……

I do not condemn or despise the world,

Nor do I resent the attacks of men against me;

Since I cannot respect it all,

Just blame me for being too stupid for not avoiding earlier.

I paid dearly for this mistake—

higher than expected;

But no matter how much I lose,

I can't take you from here!

The past also dies, and in the remaining memory

There's so much more I remember in my heart;

Point out: my favorite thing on weekdays

It is worthy of being a rare treasure that is hard to find in the world.

A spring springs up in the desert,

A green tree stands on the wasteland,

A bird sings in the silence,

Describe you to my heart.

——Byron "Writing to Augusta ([-])"

No. 11 days:

One more struggle and I can

Break free from the pain that tears the heart;

Another long sigh—to love and you,

Back to the hustle and bustle of life.

To mingle among things which he disliked,

Now I have calmly adapted;

All joy has flown away,

What worse misfortune to fear?

Well, bring the wine, and set the table;

Man is not born to be alone:

and play frivolous roles,

Laugh with everyone, never cry with others!

Not so in lovely old days;

It wasn't supposed to be like this, it was all my fault when I left,

leave you alone;

To nothing--to nothing!

……

——Byron "Struggle Again"