Dictionary › 静谧

静谧

jìng mì

2-character word Traditional 靜謐

What 静谧 means

1. literaryquiet; calm; still; tranquil

The characters in 静谧

• 静jìngstill; calm; quiet
• 谧mì(literary) quiet; peaceful; tranquil

Example sentences

• 这是个静谧的冬夜。
  Zhè shì gè jìngmì de dōng yè.
  It was a quiet winter evening.
• 阳光明媚的地方，坐落着一座宜人的老农舍，紧邻一条深深的河流。从农舍一直到河边，长满了高大的牛蒡叶，最高的牛蒡叶下，可以让一个小孩站直身体。这地方如同茂密森林的中心，原始而静谧。一只鸭子栖息在这片幽静的角落，守候着雏鸟破壳而出。它开始感到有些疲惫，因为小家伙们迟迟不肯破壳而出，而她也很少遇到来访者。
  In a sunny spot stood a pleasant old farm-house close by a deep river, and from the house down to the water side grew great burdock leaves, so high, that under the tallest of them a little child could stand upright. The spot was as wild as the centre of a thick wood. In this snug retreat sat a duck on her nest, watching for her young brood to hatch; she was beginning to get tired of her task, for the little ones were a long time coming out of their shells, and she seldom had any visitors.
• 现在是 2025 年 8 月 3 日，露露岛。晚餐后，阳光下嫩绿的无花果，昨天腌制的甜醋，还有重新加热的阿尔弗雷多义面，我坐在阳台上，望着那棵针叶树。楼下静谧无声，街道空无一车，一片悠闲。我的冰镇青柠水在阳光下闪闪发光。最近，我常和那位法丹混血的 UFO 研究专家麦可聊天。我们谈论内心深处的事情：智慧型装置的迷醉，以及思维的衰退。他说，咖啡馆已经不再是咖啡馆了。人们忘记如何观察、如何驻足停留。我跟他讲起在日本的亚瑟，他会像僧侣凝视虚空一样，对着空白的墙壁发呆。最近，我让机器像诗人一样说话，它们真的做到了。它们模仿伊莉莎白时代的诗歌，以及塔加洛语民谣中那古老而忧伤的韵律。我沿着通往蒂姆霍顿咖啡店的小路采摘黑莓。我像个孩子似的喊道：「莫拉！」我的朋友莫拉，她血液里流着安地斯山脉的薄雾，她会笑的。今天，我买了黄柠檬。我本来想买青柠，但黄柠檬也可以。/ 黑莓的清晨 / 指尖残留无花果的痕迹 / 街道依然沉睡
  It's Lulu Island, 3 August 2025. After supper—green figs tender with sunlight, sweet vinegar from yesterday’s pickled jar, and reheated Alfredo—I sat on the balcony and watched the conifer. Stillness below, a street without cars, without haste. My lime water, iced, caught the light. Michael, the Franco-Danish ufologist, has been in my conversations lately. We speak of inner things: the trance of smart devices, the mind’s eye dwindling. He says cafés aren’t cafés anymore. People forget how to look, how to linger. I tell him of Arthur in Japan—how he'd stare into blank walls like a monk gazing at emptiness. Lately I ask machines to speak like poets, and they do. They mimic Elizabethan verses and the old wistful lilt of Tagalog ballads. I pick blackberries along the path to Tim Hortons. "¡Moras!" I shout like a child. My friend Mora, whose blood flows with Andes mist, would smile. Today, I bought lemons. I meant limes, but lemons are all right. / blackberry morning— / a fig's ghost on my fingers / and the street still sleeps