經典優秀英語詩歌欣賞

英語詩歌是英語語言的精華。它以最凝練的文字傳遞時間與空間、物質與精神、理智與情感。詩歌本身包含的豐富社會生活內容和藝術內涵,詩歌語言的獨特的美與和諧都使它們具有無窮的魅力。本站小編分享經典優秀英語詩歌，希望可以幫助大家!

　　經典優秀英語詩歌：The Interrogation

Amit Majmudar

When they leathered his arm to the armrest and began

like manicurists in a nail sAlon

he says that he "retreated" from his hand

until the part of him that dwelt there once was gone

and heard no news from his own outer reaches.

In his memoir of those years, he sketches

the tricks he used, one of which was "vision."

Maybe it's better we present his version:

"I imagined my arm as a slope I had to scale,

shaft of the humerus as smooth as shale

but white like bone and giving way like sand

wherever I set foot. I couldn't stand,

couldn't take a breather, or I'd ride my own

disintegration down and end up on

the shore -- which was my hand, my fingernails.

I crested my shoulder, rested on its knoll.

I looked down then and saw the pain as men

charging uphill to where I hid my sense

of pain. At once I stomped a foot to see

the whole arm crack, calve, crash into the sea,

disarticulated, part of me no more.

I did this for the other arm and for

my feet and testicles and eyes until

I found myself on a Pacific atoll

that had no latitude, no longitude.

I built a hut, I scuttled the one canoe.

I saw a sun that weighed a kiloton

and the power cord by which it swung."

　　經典優秀英語詩歌：The Halo

C. Dale Young

In the paintings left to us

by the Old Masters, the halo,

a smallish cloud of light, clung

to the head, carefully framed the faces

of mere mortals made divine.

Accident? My body launched

by a car's incalculable momentum?

It ended up outside the car. I had no idea then

what it was like to lose days, to wake

and find everything had changed.

Through glass, this body went

through the glass window, the seatbelt

snapping my neck. Not the hanged man,

not a man made divine but more human.

I remember those pins buried in my skull,

the cold metal frame surrounding my head,

metal reflecting a small fire, a glow. All

was changed. In that bed, I was a locust.

I was starving. And how could I not be?

I, I . . . I am still ravenous.

　　經典優秀英語詩歌：The Mind Is Its Own Place

Ann Townsend

Mated and unmated,

starlings swarm the willow

with their devotions

until the tree roils

and sways, wing-beats

sounding the torrent

through which they swim.

Dopamine, paroxetine,

an injection of adrenaline

into the bloodstream:

these deliver the dissident

fuel I crave for the mind's

pleasure, and for its pain.

Call it one song indispensable

to trouble the branching

arteries. The willow divinates

toward water, switching

in the breeze; it grazes

the edge but cannot

rest there. My fingertips

pressed against my temples:

ten points of sensation,

a vaulted cage where

starlings congregate

to rustle their chaos,

their alphabet blown to bits

in the wind's rush.

Yes, you heard me.

Like an aviary, Plato said,

the mind is full of birds.

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