關於優美的英文詩句閱讀

  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。小編整理了關於優美的英文詩句,歡迎閱讀!

  關於優美的英文詩句篇一

  Mother Doesn't Want a Dog

  by Judith Viorst

  Mother doesn't want a dog.

  Mother says they smell,

  And never sit when you say sit,

  Or even when you yell.

  And when you come home late at night

  And there is ice and snow,

  You have to go back out because

  The dumb dog has to go.

  Mother doesn't want a dog.

  Mother says they shed,

  And always let the strangers in

  And bark at friends instead,

  And do disgraceful things on rugs,

  And track mud on the floor,

  And flop upon your bed at night

  And snore their doggy snore.

  Mother doesn't want a dog.

  She's making a mistake.

  Because, more than a dog, I think

  She will not want this snake

  關於優美的英文詩句篇二

  Mr. Grumpledump's Song

  by Shel Silverstein

  Everything's wrong,

  Days are too long,

  Sunshine's too hot,

  Wind is too strong.

  Clouds are too fluffy,

  Grass is too green,

  Ground is too dusty,

  Sheets are too clean.

  Stars are too twinkly,

  Moon is too high,

  Water's too drippy,

  Sand is too dry.

  Rocks are too heavy,

  Feathers too light,

  Kids are too noisy,

  Shoes are too tight.

  Folks are too happy,

  Singin' their songs.

  Why can't they see it?

  Everything's wrong!

  關於優美的英文詩句篇三

  Mound Digger

  by Sarah Lindsay

  This mound of dirt and the summer are heirs to transfer

  from what lies before and what lies behind,

  pinch by pinch. Of the mound, she keeps a record.

  The point, the students have been assured,

  is not to find objects. Their object is

  to understand the ground.

  What water did with it, when.

  how often earthworms combed and cast it.

  Whether it was tilled or thrust aside,

  which seeds lay in it, which pollens settled.

  When it's too dark to dig, she makes a tent

  of reading assignments. A chapter on similarities

  between spear points unearthed in Virginia

  and Soultrean points in Spain,

  both kinds wrought as though for beauty

  and cached in heaps of red ocher. Another book

  invites her to peer at the keyhole shape of a bone

  the size of her index finger, engraved

  these ten thousand years with forty strokes——

  fourteen, eight, eleven, then seven——and polished.

  A tally, a game, the score?

  We'll never know. And here's a review

  of arguments about a broken rock

  that might have been bashed into useful shape

  deliberately, with another rock,

  by some original axe-making biped,

  or might be a geofact, a tease,

  a found axe——or no tool at all.

  She douses the light

  and all the words disappear.

  Morning, back to the mound. It's two mounds now;

  she knows it halfway through, its wayward layers,

  silky and barren or matted with nutrients,

  heavy clay, a thousand shades of brown.

  She sees it with her eyes shut, with her palms,

  sometimes tastes it. Leaves the flints and bones

  to thrill-seekers and visionaries.

  Dirt answers her questions. She has dug past

  any props or plots or characters

  to the stuff all stories walk on

  關於優美的英文詩句篇四

  Muse

  by Meena Alexander

  I was young when you came to me.

  Each thing rings its turn,

  you sang in my ear, a slip of a thing

  dressed like a convent girl

  white socks, shoes,

  dark blue pinafore, white blouse.

  A pencil box in hand: girl, book, tree

  those were the words you gave me.

  Girl was penne, hair drawn back,

  gleaming on the scalp,

  the self in a mirror in a rosewood room

  the sky at monsoon time, pearl slits

  In cloud cover, a jagged music pours:

  gash of sense, raw covenant

  clasped still in a gold bound book,

  pusthakam pages parted,

  ink rubbed with mist,

  a bird might have dreamt its shadow there

  spreading fire in a tree maram.

  You murmured the word, sliding it on your tongue,

  trying to get how a girl could turn

  into a molten thing and not burn.

  Centuries later worn out from travel

  I rest under a tree.

  You come to me

  a bird shedding gold feathers,

  each one a quill scraping my tympanum.

  You set a book to my ribs.

  Night after night I unclasp it

  at the mirror's edge

  alphabets flicker and soar.

  Write in the light

  of all the languages

  you know the earth contains,

  you murmur in my ear.

  This is pure transport

  關於優美的英文詩句篇五

  Muse, a Lady Cautioning

  by Honorée Fanonne Jeffers

  There's fairness in changing blood for septet's

  guardian rhythm, the horn blossoming

  into cadenza. No good pimp's scowl, his

  baby's voice ruined sweet for the duration.

  Yes, these predictable fifths. O, the blues

  is all about slinging those low tales out

  the back door ***sing: child pried open on that

  stained floor***。 O, Billie hollers way down dirt

  roads ***sing: woman on the verge of needled

  logic***。 She's aware——yeah, I'm going to

  kiss some man's sugared fist tonight. O, this

  tableau's muse, a Lady cautioning me:

  Just tough this thing out, girl. Sweat through the jones.

  Don't ask for nothing. Spit your last damned note