Memory and dream

All my dear readers, now I want to share 2 wonderful poems written by Lin Huiyin with you, and in my last Steemit blog I have introduced her most famous poem--"You are the April of the world"!

Let's enjoy them together!

source

The first poem is about "memory", which reminds me of my dearest American husband who is in heaven now. The second is about "life and dream". Yeah, after going through vicissitudes of life such as lover's sudden death, we can have a strong feeling that our life is just like a dream.

记忆
Memory
诗/林徽因 (By Lin Huiyin)

断续的曲子，最美或最温柔的
夜，带着一天的星。
记忆的梗上，谁不有
两三朵娉婷，披着情绪的花
无名的展开
野荷的香馥，
每一瓣静处的月明。

An intermittent tune is heard at the most beautiful or the most gentle
night,
with studded stars all over sky.
On the stalk of memory,
who doesn't have two or three elegant,
emotional blossoms quietly in bloom
With sweet scent,
each petal of wild lotus
in tranquility is a bright crescent.

湖上风吹过，头发乱了，或是
水面皱起象鱼鳞的锦。
四面里的辽阔，如同梦
荡漾着中心彷徨的过往
不着痕迹，谁都
认识那图画，
沉在水底记忆的倒影！

Wind blows across the lake, causing messy hair, or
wrinkled water surface like fish scales.
The vastness around, like a dream
is rippling with the past of hesitating inner being
Although leaving no trace, anybody can recognize that picture,
the reflection of memories sunk underwater!

The second poem is "Sorrow of August".

八月的忧愁
Sorrow of August
诗/林徽因(By Lin Huiyin)

黄水塘里游着白鸭，
高粱梗油青的刚高过头，
这跳动的心怎样安插，
田里一窄条路，八月里这忧愁？

White ducks are swimming in a yellow pond,
Oil green sorghum stalks grow just above your head,
How the beating heart arranges
the sorrow of August in a narrow road across the field?

天是昨夜雨洗过的，山岗
照着太阳又留一片影；
羊跟着放羊的转进村庄，
一大棵树荫下罩着井，又像是心！

Sky is washed by the rain last night. Sun shines
on the hills, leaving a stretch of shadow;
A flock of sheep follows the shepherd into the village,
A big tree overshadows the well, perhaps a heart!

从没有人说过八月什么话，
夏天过去了，也不到秋天。
但我望着田垄，土墙上的瓜，
仍不明白生活同梦怎样的连牵。

Nobody has ever said anything about August,
Summer is gone, and fall is not yet around.
But I'm looking at the field ridge and the melon ridding on the walls,
still unaware of how life is associated with a dream.