Chapter 132 "Ode to a Nightingale", second ring poet!

The nightingale is a symbol of melancholy, romance, and the entanglement of love and hate, and can be compared to the cuckoo in Eastern literary imagery.

As the dean of the Academy of Poets, Richard knew that poets had a special fondness for the nightingale, the "sacred bird of art."

Richard couldn't help but feel a little bit of anticipation about what kind of poetry Yeats, the nobleman praised by the talented Perron, would write.

Bards were naturally relaxed, and even in the presence of the baron Yeats, the participants in the poetry reading did not behave overly restrainedly.

A variety of dishes were laid out on the open-air tables: roasted pigeon, raspberry pie, blood sausage, vegetable and egg sandwiches, and attendants served wine, mead and whiskey to the participants.

While enjoying the food, everyone composed poems on the spot within the stipulated two-hour time limit.

"Baron, may I ask you, what is the name of this small and exquisite food?"

London writer Lalon looked surprised, pointed at the sandwich on the plate and asked Yeats.

Yeats was walking by with a horn cup of mead. He smiled modestly and said, "It's called a sandwich. It's my new invention."

Lalon was more and more surprised, and said confidently: "I am sure that the sandwich will spread quickly throughout the Golden Lion like your fame - will you allow me to write about what I saw and heard at today's banquet in my work?"

"Of course." Ye Zhi nodded happily.

Lalon looked at Ye Zhi's receding back, picked up a glass of whiskey and took a sip, savoring it for a long time with his gums clenched, and muttered with a red face:

"I can't write poetry anymore... But coming here for the Baron's banquet is a wise decision!"

Quietly.

Two hours passed.

Night falls, and the gentle night covers the grass that is just beginning to turn green.

It's everyone's turn to recite.

The gypsy girl Sasha, with her long black hair draped down to her waist, rolled her dark eyes around, picked up the bell at her waist and shook it, attracting everyone's attention, and smiled slyly.

"Then I'll go first."

After that, Sasha came to the center of the crowd like a gust of wind, dancing in circles, lifted her skirt and bowed, then put her hands on her full chest and sang with a sweet voice: "My nightingale, in my sleepless garden of dreams.

When your holy voice plays the prelude to the silence of this beautiful night..."

Dean Richard was wearing an elegant black suit, a ruff collar with white pleated lace around his neck, and he was stroking his upturned beard, with a strange gleam in his eyes.

I thought she was just a vagrant woman who was trying to attract attention, but I never thought that her poems were indeed quite good! Art appreciation is also a required course for bards.

The poets on the scene can tell the quality of a poem with their ears.

Therefore, when Sasha finished reading a poem, her disdain and contempt for the gypsy were replaced by surprise and recognition.

"Haha, the words are indeed good, but the idea is still a little lacking - look at me!"

The elven poet Perun, dressed in a bright red robe and with a proud look on his face, walked to the center and took off the lyre from behind.

Then, he looked at the Minotaur girl tenderly and said softly, "Ms. Margot, this is for you."

Ye Zhi looked at the blushing minotaur Margot, and the corners of his mouth twitched.

As expected of a great writer who wrote a guide to the customs of other races! Perron said loudly: "Ah, at dusk, all the woods are quiet, only the nightingale sings on the branches full of flowers...

The singing started a little too late and didn't make me feel comfortable.

Whether you are a partner of youth or love.

I serve them both, both of them are my gods!"

After the poem was finished, the faces of the participants were full of surprise, and Dean Richard applauded and cheered:

“The last two lines are especially brilliant!”

Believers have been arguing over whether the nightingale is a sacred bird of love or art.

The proud elf Perun answered this question: I want them all!

Yeats clapped his hands out of courtesy, feeling awkward... Wouldn't this offend both art and the god of love at once?

I originally wanted to take this opportunity to recruit Peren, but now I think forget it. Who knows, this guy might do something terrible one day!

It was Yeats' turn to take the stage.

All eyes converged.

The silver-haired boy, wearing a corset, breeches and snow boots, with a sword at his waist, looked heroic and handsome like a classical sculpture, and walked slowly forward.

The draft lingering in my mind was from the most famous ode of the British romantic poet Keats, "Ode to a Nightingale", which was rated as "the most beautiful poem written in English" in the past.

The magnificent imagination in the poem, the image of death wandering on the edge of melancholy, the loneliness in the quiet night and the longing for love give "Ode to a Nightingale" an immortal soul.

now.

The night sky is dotted with stars and the subtle fragrance of honeysuckle lingers.

The talent of 'aesthetic art' enabled Yeats to instantly enter the 'synaesthesia' state in poetry, as if he had transcended time and space to comprehend Keats' state of mind when he wrote the poem.

The silver-haired boy stood in the night, his eyes flickering slightly, looking towards the village at the foot of the mountain where lights were dotted.

Yeats spoke softly: "My heart aches, I feel drowsy and numb..."

A hall lit by candlelight.

Hildreth pushed the door open and walked in, but Ye Zhi was nowhere to be seen.

Sora followed beside her, and the Argonian whispered, "Are we really leaving, Master Hildrede?"

"It's time to leave, Sora." Hildreth said in a hoarse voice.

Yeats's gentle voice echoed in the night.

"Fade away, disappear, and forget.

Things you never knew in the woods, forgetting the boredom, anxiety, and restlessness here..."

The first three stanzas of "Ode to a Nightingale" are full of fantastic imagination, while stanzas four to six describe how the poet, with the help of the muse, adds invisible wings, writes about his faith in poetry, and pursues the image of the nightingale.

Yeats' voice gradually rose: "Fly, fly, I want to fly to you, not riding the leopard chariot with the god of wine, but riding the invisible wings of the god of poetry -"

Sora and Hildreth walked out of the lord's mansion.

Standing under the starlight, Sora whispered to himself: "How long will it take to come back after this trip?"

"Maybe soon, maybe a long time."

The red-haired beauty gently touched the scar on her face, and before her eyes appeared a scene of a silver-haired boy standing on the top of a snowy mountain, being swallowed by a demon wolf that blocked out the sun.

"I listened to your song in the darkness. I thought of death many times. It can bring people peace..." The poetry meeting was silent. All the poets listened quietly to Yeats's poems with shining eyes.

"However, this time I'm leaving, not to escape."

Please...collect 6...9...books...!

Hildur said, "It is for the next time we meet. I have found what I long for."

"But haven't you found it now?" Sora asked.

Hildreth put on the eagle helmet, raised the corners of his mouth slightly under the iron mask, and looked up at the bright starry sky.

There, beautiful auroras are floating in the sky, like a touch of rose color in the ice and snow.

“Ode to a Nightingale” has reached its final stanza.

"Farewell! Farewell! Your plaintive song gradually fades away, passing over the nearby meadow, over the quiet stream, over the hillside;

This time it disappeared into another ravine.

Is this an illusion or a dream? The singing fades away - am I sleeping or awake? "

At the end of the poem, Yeats's voice is low, slowly echoing in the night wind, and a lonely mood surrounds him.

At the same moment, the vague aurora appeared in the starry sky, and all the poets looked up in shock.

This is the miracle manifested by the goddess of art!

Dean Richard looked at the silent silver-haired boy with shocked eyes, and a huge wave had already risen in his heart.

This is a masterpiece that will be passed down for thousands of years! Because of this masterpiece, even I, as a participant, will leave a mark in history! At this moment, Dean Richard truly realized the true meaning of God's selection of art.

The poems he created are masterpieces that countless bards could not achieve even with their hard work. He is a true genius that is particularly favored by the gods!

Dean Richard felt a sense of admiration.

"Give me a hundred years, and I won't be able to write such a work." Richard was full of admiration and regret, "So this is how a genius can undermine his self-confidence. I've learned a lesson..."

The gypsy girl's black eyes gaze gently at the silver-haired boy...this poem is so beautiful.

Peren's face was filled with dismay.

Then, Peren seemed to have thought of something, his expression returned to calm, and he showed a proud look again!

Ye Zhi looked up at the aurora, the breath in his body continued to surge, and he felt the tremor from the soul realm.

Thanks to the promotion ceremony, the bard profession was promoted to the second ring!

"You have been promoted to a second-level bard!"

"You have learned a new spell!"

"You have realized a new blessing!"

"You have discovered a new talent!"

"Spell Suggestion: School of Enchantment, second-level spell. You use magic to influence a creature you can see within the casting range, and give it some action suggestion, allowing it to do its best to perform the behavior you described. If anyone harms the recipient, the spell will end immediately."

"Talent: Nightingale Voice: Your voice is sweet and melodious. The effects of spells you cast with your voice are enhanced. You can use your voice to call small animals and have them act according to your brief commands. This talent is blessed by the God of Art, and its effect is even more significant."

"Blessing: Wings of the Goddess of Poetry: You call forth a pair of invisible wings woven with poetic inspiration from the realm of the Goddess of Art and Youth, granting you the ability to fly. The second ring lasts for five minutes. Upgraded ring: Increases flight time."

Yeats hissed.

Thank you for the gift package from the Goddess of Art!

It can be seen that she is really satisfied with "Ode to a Nightingale", and even separated a trace of divinity to bless herself with the "Wings of the God of Poetry"! In fact, many fourth-ring extraordinary people find it difficult to master the ability to fly, but she can fly at the second ring!

"I should practice my flying skills when I have time," Ye Zhi thought to himself, "air combat is also a very important ability!"

The talent 'Nightingale Voice' helps the song category and the spell 'Bad Words' is powerful, Yeats is very satisfied.

All the poets present were convinced that the goddess of art performed miracles and helped Yeats to be promoted.

Dean Richard even sensed the double-ring aura emanating from Yeats, and his eyes flickered.

"Yeats is not yet an adult, but he has already reached the second ring level. Although he is not a genius, he is not a rotten wood either!" Richard thought to himself.

"I have to write down his Ode to a Nightingale and bring it back to the academy... to show my students what poetic talent is!"

At this time.

As the aurora in the sky gradually faded, a magnificent glow suddenly appeared in the night!

Peren looked up, his face filled with shock, and he said in disbelief, "The miracle of the God of Love?!"

Richard was stunned, but saw the ray of light breaking through the ribbon woven by the aurora and instantly falling into Yeats' body! Perron: ??? Are you sure, Lord God of Love... Are you trying to steal a man from the Goddess of Art? !

(End of this chapter)