me as the king, though already twilight
My wife and I have cried, life is getting cold
rugged country, the people of the Yi-yu
long arm of the longitudinal Law, it is difficult to rule the people
the king of hearts, the people of nobody knows
unbearable Futing, I am going for thousands of miles to
die , and I will
hate the hardships of
this life. Feel the joy of this life
or ride the wind and waves with the deceased , or walk alone on the barren shore with
star clusters, torrential rain, and the waves are rolling.
So
my heart is not full yet, because of it Wandering,
I traveled all over the big and small cities,
I inspected the complicated rituals.
At that time, I was a hero, with the supreme glory running and fighting
on the battlefield called Troy
, enjoying the joy.
This is only a tiny bit
. arches like a
not conquered lands at the door, shiny
traveled cool, I hobbled
but nonetheless, lopsided
stop in monotonous, boring in the end of the
Hercules settling, wound Guanghua no longer
breath yet Existing, but feeling that life is gone,
immortality
seems to be instantaneous. What's more, I have
to wake up in the eternal silence for a few
milliseconds, harvest the new life,
tired of sealing myself out of the
farthest boundary of human thought to
pursue new knowledge. Like the search for the sunken star,
this is my son,
the country left by Telemakos , and I have the right to
pity it because of its courage and wisdom.
I have the honor and be careful, I can cure people
ordinate their young, no exaggeration
to me gone, my son will be king
, and to worship
with my son, not to phase
yond the sea, Yang Fan The ship
toward the dark ocean
my sailors with me with bitter Gan, thinking the same think with
the same lightning sunshine and joy
of our heart to freedom, head of the hard struggle
but have switched elderly
then toil glory surviving
death as the end point, and then to the front end
we still It can shock the world, fight against the gods, the
lighthouse gradually shines
and the day is about to end, the moon slowly climbs,
I listen to the call of the sea to
explore and it is
never too late to set sail!
Break through the noisy waves,
sail to the sunken side,
cross the carnival of the stars, until
we die, we will either be swallowed by the abyss,
or we will
travel to Daqiong and the deceased, named Achilles
. even
now frail older we've
never seen that year in Seattle
distinctly ma'am
years, such as the fate of more than frost Jian
often the hero chilling shortness of breath
but diminished pride
I will work tirelessly
seeking
to fight forever
It Little Profits that AN IDLE King,
By this still hearth, among these barren crags,
Matched with an aged wife, I mete and dole
Unequal laws unto a savage race,
That hoard, and sleep, and feed, and know not me.
I cannot rest from travel: I will drink
Life to the lees: all times I have enjoyed
Greatly, have suffered greatly, both with those
That loved me, and alone; on shore, and when
Through scudding drifts the rainy Hyades
Vest the dim sea: I am become a name;
For always roaming with a hungry heart
Much have I seen and known; cities of men
And manners, climates, councils, governments,
Myself not least, but honoured of them all;
And drunk delight of battle with my peers;
Far on the ringing plains of windy Troy.
I am part of all that I have met;
Yet all experience is an arch wherethrough
Gleams that untravelled world, whose margin fades
For ever and for ever when I move.
How dull it is to pause, to make an end,
To rust unburnished, not to shine in use!
As though to breath were life. Life piled on life
Were all to little, and of one to me
Little remains: but every hour is saved
From that eternal silence, something more,
A bringer of new things; and vile it were
For some three suns to store and hoard myself,
And this gray spirit yearning in desire
To follow knowledge like a sinking star,
Beyond the utmost bound of human thought.
This is my son, mine own Telemachus,
To whom I leave the scepter and the isle—
Well-loved of me, discerning to fulfill
This labour, by slow prudence to make mild
A rugged people, and through soft degrees
Subdue them to the useful and the good.
Most blameless is he, centered in the sphere
Of common duties, decent not to fail
In offices of tenderness, and pay
Meet adoration to my household gods,
When I am gone. He works his work, I mine.
There lies the port; the vessel puffs her sail:
There gloom the dark broad seas. My mariners,
Souls that have toiled, and wrought, and thought
with me—
That ever with a frolic welcome took
The thunder and the sunshine, and opposed
Free hearts, free foreheads--you and I are old;
Old age had yet his honour and his toil;
Death closes all: but something ere the end,
Some work of noble note, may yet be done,
Not unbecoming men that strove with Gods .
The lights begin to twinkle from the rocks:
The long day wanes: the slow moon climbs: the deep
Moans round with many voices. Come, my friends,
'Tis not too late to seek a newer world.
Push off, and sitting well in order smite
The sounding furrows; for my purpose holds
To sail beyond the sunset, and the baths
Of all the western stars, until I die.
It may be that the gulfs will wash us down:
It may be we shall touch the Happy Isles ,
And see the great Achilles, whom we knew.
Though much is taken, much abides; and though
We are not now that strength which in the old days
Moved earth and heaven; that which we are, we are,
One equal-temper of heroic hearts,
Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will
To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.
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