A History of Chinese LiteratureGrove Press, 1923 - 448 עמודים |
מהדורות אחרות - הצג הכל
A History of Chinese Literature <span dir=ltr>Herbert Allen Giles</span> אין תצוגה מקדימה זמינה - 2015 |
מונחים וביטויים נפוצים
asked autumn bamboo barbarian beauty birds Bodhisatva Buddha Buddhist century B.C. CHAPTER Chêng China Chinese literature Chou Chu Hsi Chuang Tzu classical Confucian Confucius cried dead death dream earth Emperor Emperor Ch'ien Lung empire encyclopædia eyes famous father flowers Han dynasty hand heard heart Heaven Hsüan husband Imperial jade known lady Lao Tzu latter Li Ling lines literary lived look Majesty Mencius Ming dynasty moon mother never night official once palace Pao-ch'ai Pao-yü pass play poem poet poetry priest Prince replied river robe ruler Samuel Beckett scholar sent slave-girl specimen spirit spring stone story style Su Wu Sung T'ang Tai-yü Taoist tears things thou thousand took trees Ts'ao Tzŭ verse wander Wang Wên wife wind wine words writing wrote Yüan
קטעים בולטים
עמוד 146 - The qualities rare in a bee that we meet, In an epigram never should fail : The body should always be little and sweet, And a sting should be left in its tail.
עמוד 100 - The sound of rustling silk is stilled, With dust the marble courtyard filled; No footfalls echo on the floor, Fallen leaves, in heaps, block up the door: For she my pride, my lovely one is lost; And I am left, in hopeless anguish tossed.
עמוד 19 - A CLEVER man builds a city, A clever woman lays one low; With all her qualifications, that clever woman Is but an ill-omened bird. A woman with a long tongue Is a flight of Steps leading to calamity; For disorder does not come from heaven, But is brought about by women. * Among those who cannot be trained or taught Are women and eunuchs.
עמוד 63 - Once upon a time, I, Chuang Tzu, dreamt I was a butterfly, fluttering hither and thither, to all intents and purposes a butterfly. I was conscious only of following my fancies as a butterfly, and was unconscious of my individuality as a man.
עמוד 154 - See the moon how she glances response to my song; See my shadow it dances so lightly along! While sober I feel, you are both my good friends; When drunken I reel, our companionship ends, But we'll soon have a greeting without a goodbye, At our next merry meeting away in the sky.
עמוד 34 - Confucius, in his village, looked simple and sincere, and as if he were not able to speak.
עמוד 130 - Ah, how short a time it is that we are here! Why then not set our hearts at rest, ceasing to trouble whether we remain or go? What boots it to wear out the soul with anxious thoughts ? I want not wealth : I want not power : heaven is beyond my hopes. Then let me stroll through the bright hours as they pass, in my garden among my flowers ; or I will mount the hill and sing my song, or weave my verse beside the limpid brook. Thus will I work out my allotted span, content with the appointments of Fate,...
עמוד 64 - To which the Spirit of the Ocean replied : " You cannot speak of ocean to a well-frog, — the creature of a narrower sphere. You cannot speak of ice to a summer insect, — the creature of a season. You cannot speak of Tao to a pedagogue : his scope is too restricted. But now that you have emerged from your narrow sphere and have seen the great ocean, you know your own insignificance, and I can speak to you of great principles.
עמוד 166 - ... softly, as the murmur of whispered words ; now loud and soft together, like the patter of pearls and pearlets dropping upon a marble dish. Or liquid, like the warbling of the mango-bird in the bush; trickling, like the streamlet on its downward course. And then like the torrent, stilled by the grip of frost, so for a moment was the music lulled, in a passion too deep for...
עמוד 101 - O fair white silk, fresh from the weaver's loom, Clear as the frost, bright as the winter snow — See, friendship fashions out of thee a fan ; Round as the round moon shines in heaven above ; At home, abroad, a close companion thou ; Stirring at every move the grateful gale. And yet I fear, ah me ! that autumn chills, Cooling the dying summer's torrid rage, Will see thee laid neglected on the shelf, All thought of by-gone days, like them, by-gone.