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學(xué)習(xí)啦 > 學(xué)習(xí)英語 > 英語閱讀 > 英語詩歌 > 優(yōu)美經(jīng)典的英文詩句精選

優(yōu)美經(jīng)典的英文詩句精選

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優(yōu)美經(jīng)典的英文詩句精選

  詩歌朗讀、學(xué)習(xí)詩歌、并進(jìn)行詩歌創(chuàng)作和翻譯過程中都是一種美的感受,能夠讓學(xué)生體會其特有的韻律美,盡情發(fā)揮想象,馳騁在詩歌的海洋中。學(xué)習(xí)啦小編整理了優(yōu)美經(jīng)典的英文詩句,歡迎閱讀!

  優(yōu)美經(jīng)典的英文詩句篇一

  Nothing Stays Put

  by Amy Clampitt

  In memory of Father Flye, 1884-1985

  The strange and wonderful are too much with us.

  The protea of the antipodes——a great,

  globed, blazing honeybee of a bloom——

  for sale in the supermarket! We are in

  our decadence, we are not entitled.

  What have we done to deserve

  all the produce of the tropics——

  this fiery trove, the largesse of it

  heaped up like cannonballs, these pineapples, bossed

  and crested, standing like troops at attention,

  these tiers, these balconies of green, festoons

  grown sumptuous with stoop labor?

  The exotic is everywhere, it comes to us

  before there is a yen or a need for it. The green-

  grocers, uptown and down, are from South Korea.

  Orchids, opulence by the pailful, just slightly

  fatigued by the plane trip from Hawaii, are

  disposed on the sidewalks; alstroemerias, freesias

  fattened a bit in translation from overseas; gladioli

  likewise estranged from their piercing ancestral crimson;

  as well as, less altered from the original blue cornflower

  of the roadsides and railway embankments of Europe, these

  bachelor's buttons. But it isn't the railway embankments

  their featherweight wheels of cobalt remind me of, it's

  a row of them among prim colonnades of cosmos,

  snapdragon, nasturtium, bloodsilk red poppies,

  in my grandmother's garden: a prairie childhood,

  the grassland shorn, overlaid with a grid,

  unsealed, furrowed, harrowed and sown with immigrant grasses,

  their massive corduroy, their wavering feltings embroidered

  here and there by the scarlet shoulder patch of cannas

  on a courthouse lawn, by a love knot, a cross stitch

  of living matter, sown and tended by women,

  nurturers everywhere of the strange and wonderful,

  beneath whose hands what had been alien begins,

  as it alters, to grow as though it were indigenous.

  But at this remove what I think of as

  strange and wonderful, strolling the side streets of Manhattan

  on an April afternoon, seeing hybrid pear trees in blossom,

  a tossing, vertiginous colonnade of foam, up above——

  is the white petalfall, the warm snowdrift

  of the indigenous wild plum of my childhood.

  Nothing stays put. The world is a wheel.

  All that we know, that we're

  made of, is motion

  優(yōu)美經(jīng)典的英文詩句篇二

  Outside

  by Michael Ryan

  The dead thing mashed into the street

  the crows are squabbling over isn't

  her, nor are their raucous squawks

  the quiet cawing from her throat

  those final hours she couldn't speak.

  But the racket irks him.

  It seems a cruel intrusion into grief

  so mute it will never be expressed

  no matter how loud or long the wailing

  he might do. Nor could there be a word

  that won't debase it, no matter

  how kind or who it comes from.

  She knew how much he loved her.

  That must be his consolation

  when he must talk to buy necessities.

  Every place will be a place without her.

  What people will see when they see him

  pushing a shopping cart or fetching mail

  is just a neatly dressed polite old man

  優(yōu)美經(jīng)典的英文詩句篇三

  Outside Abilene

  by Harley Elliott

  the full rage of kansas turns loose upon us.

  On the mexican radio station

  they are singing Espiritu de mis suenos

  and that is exactly it tonight.

  The spirit of my dreams

  rises in the storm like vapor.

  Deep clouds bulge together and below them

  we are a tiny constellation of lights

  the car laid under sheets of lightning

  moving straight in to the night.

  Before us are miles and miles of water and wind

  優(yōu)美經(jīng)典的英文詩句篇四

  Outskirts

  by Tomas Transtromer (Translated by Robert Bly)

  Men in overalls the same color as earth rise from a ditch.

  It's a transitional place, in stalemate, neither country nor city.

  Construction cranes on the horizon want to take the big leap,

  but the clocks are against it.

  Concrete piping scattered around laps at the light with cold tongues.

  Auto-body shops occupy old barns.

  Stones throw shadows as sharp as objects on the moon surface.

  And these sites keep on getting bigger

  like the land bought with Judas' silver: "a potter's field for burying strangers."

  優(yōu)美經(jīng)典的英文詩句篇五

  Ox Cart Manby Donald Hall

  In October of the year,

  he counts potatoes dug from the brown field,

  counting the seed, counting

  the cellar's portion out,

  and bags the rest on the cart's floor.

  He packs wool sheared in April, honey

  in combs, linen, leather

  tanned from deerhide,

  and vinegar in a barrel

  hoped by hand at the forge's fire.

  He walks by his ox's head, ten days

  to Portsmouth Market, and sells potatoes,

  and the bag that carried potatoes,

  flaxseed, birch brooms, maple sugar, goose

  feathers, yarn.

  When the cart is empty he sells the cart.

  When the cart is sold he sells the ox,

  harness and yoke, and walks

  home, his pockets heavy

  with the year's coin for salt and taxes,

  and at home by fire's light in November cold

  stitches new harness

  for next year's ox in the barn,

  and carves the yoke, and saws planks

  building the cart again

  
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