關於最經典的英文詩朗誦
英語詩歌是一個包含豐富社會生活內容、語言藝術和文化內涵的世界,是基礎英語教學的一塊很有潛力的教學資源。本站小編整理了關於最經典的英文詩，歡迎閱讀!
Love is More Thicker than Forget
by E. E. Cummings
Love is more thicker than forget
More thinner than recall
More seldom than a wave is wet
More frequent than to fail
It is most mad and moonly
And less it shall unbe
Than all the sea which only
Is deeper than the sea
Love is Iess always than to win
Less never than alive
Less bigger than the least begin
Less littler than forgive
It is most sane and sunly
And more it cannot die
Than all the sky which only
Is higher than the sky
愛情比忘卻更深厚
愛情比忘卻厚
比回憶薄
比潮溼的波浪少
比失敗多
它最癡癲最瘋狂
但比起所有
比海洋更深的海洋
它更爲長久
愛情總比勝利少見
卻比活着多些
不大於無法開始
不小於諒解
它最明朗最清醒
而比起所有
比天空更高的天空
它更爲不朽
關於最經典的英文詩篇二Skunk Hour
By Robert Lowell
(For Elizabeth Bishop)
Nautilus Island's hermit
heiress still lives through winter in her Spartan cottage;
her sheep still graze above the sea.
Her son's a bishop. Her farmer
is first selectman in our village;
she's in her dotage.
Thirsting for
the hierarchie privacy
of Queen Victoria's century,
she buys up all
the eyesores facing her shore,
and lets them fall.
The season's ill--
we've lost our summer millionaire,
who seemed to leap from an L. L. Bean
catalogue. His nine-knot yawl
was auctioned off to lobstermen.
A red fox stain covers Blue Hill.
And now our fairy
decorator brightens his shop for fall;
his fishnet's filled with orange cork,
orange, his cobbler's bench and awl;
there is no money in his work,
he'd rather marry.
One dark night,
my Tudor Ford climbed the hill's skull;
I watched for love-cars. Lights turned down,
they lay together, hull to hull,
where the graveyard shelves on the town. . . .
My mind's not right.
A car radio bleats,
"Love, O careless Love. . . ." I hear
my ill-spirit sob in each blood cell,
as if my hand were at its throat. . . .
I myself am hell;
nobody's here--
only skunks, that search
in the moonlight for a bite to eat.
They march on their soles up Main Street:
white stripes, moonstruck eyes' red fire
under the chalk-dry and spar spire
of the Trinitarian Church.
I stand on top
of our back steps and breathe the rich air--
a mother skunk with her column of kittens swills the garbage pail.
She jabs her wedge-head in a cup
of sour cream, drops her ostrich tail,
and will not scare.
臭鼬的時光
爲伊麗莎白·畢肖普而作
鸚鵡螺島的隱士
女繼承人整個冬天仍住在她的斯巴達式小屋;
她的羊羣仍在海的北面啃食牧草。
她的兒子是主教。我們村裏的第一任村長
是她的農場主;
她已年老糊塗。
渴望
維多利亞女王時
那種等級森嚴的清靜閒適
她買下了全部
對岸看不順眼的地方，
任其荒蕪。
這季節令人討厭—
我們失去了夏天的百萬富翁，
他彷彿是從一個廉價貨目單上突然跳出。
他那速度可達九節的快艇
拍賣給了一個捕蝦的人。
紅褐色斑點佈滿藍山。
如今我們那仙子般的裝飾家
爲秋天他把古玩店扮靚;
他的漁網掛滿橘黃色的浮子，
鞋匠的凳子和錐子也漆成橘黃;
他幹活卻掙不了工資，
他不如去成家。
一個漆黑的夜晚，
我的都鐸式福特車爬上山頭;
我留意着愛情車。燈暗了下來，
他們停泊在一起，頭挨着頭，
像廢舊汽車垃圾場在市鎮邊層層布排….
我的神志不安。
一輛車中的收音機在咩叫，
“愛情，啊，輕率的愛情….”我聽到
我那染病的魂靈在每個血細胞中哽咽無語
彷彿我的手卡住了心靈的咽喉…
我自已就是地獄;
無人在這裏—
只有臭鼬，在月光下面
尋覓一口食物充飢。
他們獨自在大街上行進整齊：
白條紋，迷離的眼神冒着熾熱的光
在三一教堂
那冷冰冰的白堊色圓柱形的尖頂下面。
我站在我家後門臺階的頂端
吸入濃烈的空氣—
一隻母鼬帶着一羣小臭鼬貪婪地在垃圾桶裏吸食，
她把楔形腦袋插進一個酸乳酪杯子裏面，
垂下她鴕鳥似的尾巴，
什麼也不怕。
關於最經典的英文詩篇三After Apple-Picking
Robert Frost (1874-1963)
My long two-pointed ladder’s sticking through a tree
Toward heaven still,
And there’s a barrel that I didn’t fill
Beside it, and there may be two or three
Apples I didn’t pick upon some bough.
But I am done with apple-picking now.
Essence of winter sleep is on the night,
The scent of apples: I am drowsing off.
I cannot rub the strangeness from my sight
I got from looking through a pane of glass
I skimmed this morning from the drinking trough
And held against the world of hoary grass.
It melted, and I let it fall and break.
But I was well
Upon my way to sleep before it fell,
And I could tell
What form my dreaming was about to take.
Magnified apples appear and disappear,
Stem end and blossom end,
And every fleck of russet showing clear.
My instep arch not only keeps the ache,
It keeps the pressure of a ladder-round.
I feel the ladder sway as the boughs bend.
And I keep hearing from the cellar bin
The rumbling sound
Of load on load of apples coming in.
For I have had too much
Of apple-picking: I am overtired
Of the great harvest I myself desired.
There were ten thousand thousand fruit to touch,
Cherish in hand, lift down, and not let fall.
For all
That struck the earth,
No matter if not bruised or spiked with stubble,
Went surely to the cider-apple heap
As of no worth.
One can see what will trouble
This sleep of mine, whatever sleep it is.
Were he not gone,
The woodchuck could say whether it’s like his
Long sleep, as I describe its coming on,
Or just some human sleep.
摘蘋果之後
羅伯特•弗羅斯特(1874-1963)
王道餘 譯
我那長長的雙柱梯子穿過一棵樹
還在指向天堂，
有一隻桶就在一旁
我還沒有裝滿;而在樹枝某處，
也許還有沒摘的兩三個蘋果。
但摘蘋果這活兒算告一段落。
夜晚已經瀰漫着冬眠的氣息，
蘋果的香味：我正在昏昏欲睡。
我今天早上從飲水槽裏撈起
一大塊的玻璃。透過這塊東西
我把這草枯霜凍的世界琢磨;
我視線裏是揮之不去的怪異。
冰化了，我讓它掉下、摔在地上。
但我其實
在它掉下之前就已漸有睡意，
我也明知
我的夢境會是什麼樣的形狀。
巨大蘋果，這邊浮現，那邊淡出，
有蒂的一端，有花的一端，
每個紅褐色的斑點都很清楚。
我的腳弓不僅還殘留着痛傷，
它也殘留着梯子橫槓的擠壓。
樹枝一彎，我能感到梯子一偏。
我還不斷聽到地窖裏有聲音
轟轟作響
那是一筐一筐的蘋果在送進。
因爲我摘蘋果
已經摘得太多：我已累得太過
因自己曾經期望的巨大收穫。
有十萬萬隻水果需要我去摸
手裏小心握，扯落，但不能鬆掉。
只要
砸到地皮，
不管是否碰傷，不管是否刺破，
肯定要歸到用來造酒的那堆，
似乎一錢不值。
誰都能看出這次睡眠，我
會有什麼麻煩，無論它是哪種睡眠。
如果他還在，
土撥鼠能說出這會不會有點
像他的長眠，如上所述般襲來，
抑或只是人的安睡?
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