Graham Greene is Faulkner’s inheritance as well as simplification. European tragic poet is one of the most successful novelists in Britain today. William Prommel wrote that his dialogues are very clever, comparable to Haiwei’s and more colorful than the latter. His description of the scenery is extremely delicate and reminiscent of Virginia Woolf Graham Greene’s personality. He is a mature novelist.

Translated by Xu Shaojun and Wang Xiaofang
1PaulBurge1851935 French national critic
WilliaPler1931973 English family was born in South Africa, and I speak Africa, etc.
A summary of Einstein’s theory
Albert Einstein’s two treatises are quite difficult to interpret. Perhaps it is the theory of relativity. Robinson published this article in Science and Technology News with the signature CWW. According to this kind of article, the most satisfactory chapter is described in four dimensions.
Four-dimension was invented by Henry Moore, an Englishman in the first half of the 17th century. It is strange that this originated from form, not from several dimensions. Several people often argue their views in this way. Since moving points produce lines, moving lines produce planes and moving planes produce cubes, why can’t moving cubes produce unimaginable shapes? Sophistication continues to be a short line, a simple square and a poor line, a simple cube and a poor cube. This imaginative cube is calculated and we don’t know whether it is in four dimensions. But we know that each four-dimensional body has a cube, twenty-four squares, thirty-two cross lines, sixteen points and lines, points and planes, lines and planes, cubes and planes, and four-dimensional bodies are limited by cubes.
This is not a three-dimensional height, that is, a point in a circle can leave the circle without touching the edge. Now it is not an imagination that a person in a cell can leave the cell without touching the roof, floor or wall.
In the story of Wells plattner, a man was thrown into a horror world, and when he returned from there, people told him that he was a left-handed man with a heart on the right and a hand on the other side than in the mirror.
Translated by Xu Shaojun and Wang Xiaofang
1 is special relativity and general relativity.
HenryMre16141687 British philosopher and theologian
Yuwen life
Oliver Gogarty, the poet of Ireland’s last wartime, was killed by Northern Irish in a big room on the Barrow River in Kildare County. He was shot at dawn when he was white. He came to the garden for an excuse and jumped into the cold river. At night, the guns were densely covered in the flying river. When he swam, he told a swan that the swan had saved him to the other side of the river, and he married his wife. The river god saved him when he heard these words. He fulfilled his promise.
Translated by Xu Shaojun and Wang Xiaofang
An oldest poem in the English-speaking world 1
Around 1916, I decided to engage in Oriental Studies. When I was studying English of a China philosopher with enthusiasm and piety, I came across such a sentence: Death row inmates are not afraid of death. A note was added here saying that his translation is better than that of another Han family, and his opponent will not judge whether it is good or bad if it is broken. Since then, the mystery has come to my mind. I will follow Paul Francesca’s example and never read this kind of work again.
Whenever fate makes me face the faithful translation of China or Arabic classics, I will recall that painful past. Now, when I get the translation of Genji’s story by Arthur Willi, I also commented on the recent translation of the Book of Songs in my column, I remember that thing again. It is said that these folk poems were wounded by soldiers and farmers in China in the seventh century BC, and I translated several passages from rhyming protest poems.
Minister of war, we are the minions of the king.
To put us in fire and water
Yongtouri
Minister of war, we are the minions of the king.
To put us in fire and water
Rest forever
Minister of war, you are really violent and perverse.
To put us in fire and water
Our mother was hungry and cold.
I translated a poem about love and sorrow.
It was windy that day.
You look at me and smile at me.
But that look is not mocking
My heart aches
There was a sandstorm that day.
You and I sincerely meet.
But you didn’t come.