菲茨杰拉德声音中的《夜莺颂》和《奥瑟罗》
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Welcome to the new episode of "Sasha Bia, listen to me cut the small theater" I'm Baozi In this episode, I'm just in charge of the set The real protagonist is an important writer Francis Scott Fitzgerald

We don't need to talk about Fitzgerald anymore. The great Gatsby, the gentle night, and the kind young men. His works are too many, and they have affected more than a generation of readers. Especially Gatsby, who is the second best English novel of the 20th century, is really well-known. There are some words about Fitzgerald, such as the self-published novels written by his wife, Zelda. There are videos, we can find the image of this couple.

There are also audio-visuals. Yes, this is the main content of this issue. Like many writers, Fitzgerald has also read a lot of literary works. Today I'm going to release his three-part audio-visuals. The works of his are: "The Nightingale's Song of the Gipsy", "The Names of John, Mithrid, and the Old Testament", and "Othello, the Drama of Shakespeare". But unfortunately, these three volumes are all selected.

First, "The Nightingale", a British romantic poem representing the poet's name, is also one of his most popular poems. It's so beautiful. This is the first three lines of the poem. My heart aches and it drowsy numbness pains my sense as if of hemlock I had drunk or emptied some dull opiate to the drain a moment since then leafy word had sunk

"'Tis not from envy thine happy love, but being too happy in thine happiness, that thou, light-winged dry out of the trees in some melodious plot of beach and green, and shadows numberless, singest of summer and full-throated ease. Oh, for a draught of vintage that hath been cooled along our on the deep-delled earth,

Tasting of flora and the country green dance, and Provençal song and sun-mean mirth. Oh, for a beaker full of the warm south, full of the true, the blushful hippocrene, with beaded bubbles winking at the brim and purple-stained mouth that I might drink and with me fade into the forest dim, fade far away.

And fast forget what thou on earth has never known. The wilderness, the fever, and the fret. Here where men sit and hear each other groan. Where palsy shakes a few last sad gray hairs. Where youth grows dumb and fever thin and dies. New love cannot live beyond tomorrow. Where beauty cannot live.

Although he is not very famous in our country, John Maysferder is a British royal historian. "The Old Testament" is his masterpiece. This poem was written in August 1919. He was only 41 years old at the time. In terms of his writing career, Maysferder is a very multi-talented author. 17 plays, 20 novels, several reviews, and more than 30 poems and essays.

In August 1919, he wrote this poem, The Old Testament, in his only 41 years of age. This is the first half of the book by F.C.J. Lauder. Be with me, beauty, for the fire is dying. My dog and I are old, too old for roving. Man whose young passion sets the spindrift flying. It's soon too lame to march, too cold for loving. I take my boat.

and gather to the fire turning old yellow leaves. Minute by minute a clock ticks to my heart. A withered wire moves a thin ghost of music in the spinet. I cannot sail your seas. I cannot wander your hill lands or your corn lands or your valleys ever again. Nor share the battle yonder where the young knight the broken squadron rallies. Only sit quietly

While my mind remembers the beauty of fire from the beauty of embers. 现在我们来到的最后一段,来自奥瑟罗的第一幕第三场。 因为篇幅和角色原因,菲斯杰拉德当然不能读完整本奥瑟罗了。 他选的这段可以称得上全剧的第一个高潮。

Although he was respected, Oslo was still a man of color, a man of the Moer tribe. His love for the beautiful woman, Tess Dimona, was not recognized by his stepfather, but was told by the palace lord, accusing him of abusing his daughter, causing Oslo to prove his love for himself.

The last sentence that Fitzgerald read was, "He loves me for all the troubles he has suffered for me. I love him for the sympathy I have for him. This is my only request." It was such a great achievement. Most potent, grave and reverent seniors. My very noble and approved good master. That I have taken away this old man's daughter is most true. True, I have married her.

The very head and front of my offending hath this extent no more. Rude am I in my speech in little verse and set phrase of peace. For since these arms of mine had seven years pith, they have used their dearest action in the tented field. And little of the great world can I bespeak save as pertains to feats of royal and battle. Therefore, little will I grace my cause in speaking for myself. Yet...

By your gracious patience, I will around unvarnished tale the liver of my whole course of love. What drugs, what charms, what conjurations, and what mighty magic for such proceedings I am charged with all, I won his daughter with. Her father loved me, often invited me, still questioned me the story of my life from year to year. The battles, sieges, fortunes I had passed, I ran them through even from my boyish days to the moment when he bade me tell them.

wherein I spake of moving accident, by fire and flood, of hairbreadth, scapes, and the eminent deadly breach, of being tamed by the insolent foe, and sold to slavery, of my redemption thence, importance in my travel's history. These things to hear did Desdemona seriously incline, but still the house affairs would call her thence, whichever she could with haste dispatch she would return, and with greedier devour up my discourse.

which I, observing, took once the pliant hour to draw from her a prayer that I would all my pilgrimages to late, which by parcel she had something heard, but not intentively. I did consent, and often did beguile her of her tears when I did speak of some distressful stroke that my youth suffered. She sighed in faith, "'Twas strange, "'twas wondrous strange, "'twas pitiful, "'twas wondrous pitiful, "'she wished she had not heard me, "'yet she wished that heaven had made her such a man.'"

She thanked me. She bade me if I had a friend that loved her. I should but teach him how to tell my story, and that would war. Upon this hint I spake. She loved me for the dangers I'd passed. I loved her, but she did pity them. This only the witchcraft I have used.

Alright, that's all for this episode of Shasha Bia. After that, I'll dig up more of these rare audio files. I'm sure that the best of the best is the best of the best. But one thing is for sure, that is, this audio file is really too precious.