资源预览内容
第1页 / 共7页
第2页 / 共7页
第3页 / 共7页
第4页 / 共7页
第5页 / 共7页
第6页 / 共7页
第7页 / 共7页
亲,该文档总共7页全部预览完了,如果喜欢就下载吧!
资源描述
关于动人的英文诗歌欣赏 【篇一】关于动人的英文诗歌观赏 Deaths Of Flowers E J Scovell (1907 - 1999) I would if I could choose Age and die outwards as a tulip does; Not as this iris drawing in, in-coiling Its complex strange taut inflorescence, willing Itself a bud again - though all achieved is No more than a clenched sadness, The tears of gum not flowing. I would choose the tulips reckless way of going; Whose petals answer light, altering by fractions From closed to wide, from one through many perfections, Till wrecked, flamboyant, strayed beyond recall, Like flakes of fire they piecemeal fall. 【篇二】关于动人的英文诗歌观赏 The Garden Andrew Marvell (1621 - 1678) How vainly men themselves amaze To win the palm, the oak, or bays, And their uncessant labours see Crowned from some single herb or tree, Whose short and narrow vergd shade Does prudently their toils upbraid, While all flowrs and all trees do close To weave the garlands of repose. Fair Quiet, have I found thee here, And Innocence, thy sister dear! Mistaken long, I sought you then In busy companies of men. Your sacred plants, if here below, Only among the plants will grow. Society is all but rude, To this delicious solitude. No white nor red was ever seen So amrous as this lovely green. Fond lovers, cruel as their flame, Cut in these trees their mistress name. Little, alas, they know, or heed, How far these beauties hers exceed! Fair trees! Whereseer your barks I wound, No name shall but your own be found. When we have run our passions heat, Love hither makes his best retreat. The gods, that mortal beauty chase, Still in a tree did end their race. Apollo hunted Daphne so, Only that she might laurel grow. And Pan did after Syrinx speed, Not as a nymph, but for a reed. What wondrous life is this I lead! Ripe apples drop about my head; The luscious clusters of the vine Upon my mouth do crush their wine; The nectarene, and curious peach, Into my hands themselves do reach; Stumbling on melons, as I pass, Ensnared with flowers, I fall on grass. Meanwhile the mind, from pleasure less, Withdraws into its happiness: The mind, that ocean where each kind Does straight its own resemblance find, Yet it creates, transcending these, Far other worlds, and other seas, Annihilating all thats made To a green thought in a green shade. Here at the fountains sliding foot, Or at some fruit-trees mossy root, Casting the bodys vest aside, My soul into the boughs does glide: There like a bird it sits, and sings, Then whets, and combs its silver wings; And, till prepared for longer flight, Waves in its plumes the various light. Such was the happy garden-state, While man there walked without a mate: After a place so pure, and sweet, What other help could yet be meet! But twas beyond a mortals share To wander solitary there: Two paradises twere in one To live in paradise alone. How well the skilful gardener drew Of flowers and herbs this dial new, Where from above the milder sun Does through a fragrant zodiac run; And, as it works, the industrious bee Computes its time as well as we. How could such sweet and whilesome hours Be reckoned but with herbs and flowers! 【篇三】关于动人的英文诗歌观赏 The Darkling Thrush Thomas Hardy (1840-1928) I leant upon a coppice gate When Frost was spectre-gray, And Winters dregs made desolate The weakening eye of day. The tangled bine-stems scored the sky Like strings of broken lyres, And all mankind that haunted nigh Had sought their household fires. The lands sharp features seemed to be The Centurys corpse outleant, His crypt the cloudy canopy, The wind his death-lament. The ancient pulse of germ and birth Was shrunken hard and dry, And every spirit upon earth Seemed fervourless as I. At once a voice arose among The bleak twigs overhead In a full-hearted evensong Of joy illimited; An agd thrush, frail, gaunt, and small, In blast-beruffled plume, Had chosen thus to fling his soul Upon the growing gloom. So little cause for carolings Of such ecstatic sound Was written on terrestrial things Afar or nigh around, That I could think there trembled through His happy good-night air Some blessd Hope, whereof he knew And I was unaware.
收藏 下载该资源
网站客服QQ:2055934822
金锄头文库版权所有
经营许可证:蜀ICP备13022795号 | 川公网安备 51140202000112号