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Poetry is a sword of lightning, ever unsheathed, which consumes the scabbard that would contain it.

  • -- Percy Bysshe Shelley 珀西·比西·雪莱

诗是一把永不拔出鞘的闪电之剑，它吞掉了装它的鞘。

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Sword Poetry Lightning Consumes

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Nothing good bursts forth all at once. The lightning may dart out of a black cloud; but the day sends his bright heralds before him, to prepare the world for his coming.

没有什么好东西是突然冒出来的。闪电可以从乌云中射出;但这一天却把祂光明的使者送到祂面前，使世界为祂的来临做好准备。

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I have been in Sorrow's kitchen and licked out all the pots. Then I have stood on the peaky mountain wrapped in rainbows, with a harp and sword in my hands.

我到过悲伤的厨房，把所有的锅都吃光了。那时，我站在彩虹环绕的峰顶上，手里拿着竖琴和剑。

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Whoso pulleth out this sword of this stone and anvil is rightwise king born of all England.

谁能从这块石头和铁砧上拔出这把剑，谁就是全英格兰的右翼国王。

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Tears upon the dry sponge of heart do not prove I am Promethean.

眼泪落在干涸的心的海绵上 不要证明我是普罗米修斯。

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There is poetry as soon as we realize that we possess nothing.

当我们意识到自己一无所有时，就有了诗歌。

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Rust consumes iron, and envy consumes itself.

锈能消耗铁，嫉妒能消耗自己。

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