关于经典英文诗词欣赏

2017-05-08

英语诗歌因其节奏、思想意义及艺术价值,在英语教学中占有一席之地。小编精心收集了关于经典英文诗词,供大家欣赏学习!

关于经典英文诗词篇1

The Pumpkin

by John Greenleaf Whittier

Oh, greenly and fair in the lands of the sun,

The vines of the gourd and the rich melon run,

And the rock and the tree and the cottage enfold,

With broad leaves all greenness and blossoms all gold,

Like that which o'er Nineveh's prophet once grew,

While he waited to know that his warning was true,

And longed for the storm-cloud, and listened in vain

For the rush of the whirlwind and red fire-rain.

On the banks of the Xenil the dark Spanish maiden

Comes up with the fruit of the tangled vine laden;

And the Creole of Cuba laughs out to behold

Through orange-leaves shining the broad spheres of gold;

Yet with dearer delight from his home in the North,

On the fields of his harvest the Yankee looks forth,

Where crook-necks are coiling and yellow fruit shines,

And the sun of September melts down on his vines.

Ah! on Thanksgiving day, when from East and from West,

From North and from South comes the pilgrim and guest;

When the gray-haired New Englander sees round his board

The old broken links of affection restored;

When the care-wearied man seeks his mother once more,

And the worn matron smiles where the girl smiled before;

What moistens the lip and what brightens the eye,

What calls back the past, like the rich Pumpkin pie?

Oh, fruit loved of boyhood! the old days recalling,

When wood-grapes were purpling and brown nuts were falling!

When wild, ugly faces we carved in its skin,

Glaring out through the dark with a candle within!

When we laughed round the corn-heap, with hearts all in tune,

Our chair a broad pumpkin, - our lantern the moon,

Telling tales of the fairy who travelled like steam

In a pumpkin-shell coach, with two rats for her team!

Then thanks for thy present! none sweeter or better

E'er smoked from an oven or circled a platter!

Fairer hands never wrought at a pastry more fine,

Brighter eyes never watched o'er its baking, than thine!

And the prayer, which my mouth is too full to express,

Swells my heart that thy shadow may never be less,

That the days of thy lot may be lengthened below,

And the fame of thy worth like a pumpkin-vine grow,

And thy life be as sweet, and its last sunset sky

Golden-tinted and fair as thy own Pumpkin pie!

关于经典英文诗词篇2

The Question of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde

by Barbara Hurd

A teacher at the chalkboard turns

and imagines pushing desks

together, lowering her body

onto the one whose question

about character and conflict

still lingers in his mouth.

Behind a curtain of textbook and chalk,

she shudders thick and shaded

inside Jekyll's bones, spine twisting in the hands

of what she thought she'd turned to ash

by the heat of her good intentions.

She unbuttons the hugeness of his coat,

hears her voice gone dwarfish and husky,

feels Jekyll's nausea in her mouth,

Hyde's lust grinding in her molars

while stage crews haul away bridges,

drag in back alleys

and the curtain begins to rise.

It's moments like this,

the director gone for coffee,

stage crew caught with their arms full,

when we know what rises in us unbidden

is woven to us,

more intimate than a lover.

关于经典英文诗词篇3

The Red Poppy

by Louise Glück

The great thing

is not having

a mind. Feelings:

oh, I have those; they

govern me. I have

a lord in heaven

called the sun, and open

for him, showing him

the fire of my own heart, fire

like his presence.

What could such glory be

if not a heart? Oh my brothers and sisters,

were you like me once, long ago,

before you were human? Did you

permit yourselves

to open once, who would never

open again? Because in truth

I am speaking now

the way you do. I speak

because I am shattered

关于经典英文诗词篇4

The Republic

by Paul Mariani

Midnight. For the past three hours

I've raked over Plato's Republic

with my students, all of them John

Jay cops, and now some of us

have come to Rooney's to unwind.

Boilermakers. Double shots and triples.

Fitzgerald's still in his undercover

clothes and giveaway white socks, and two

lieutenants——Seluzzi in the sharkskin suit

& D'Ambruzzo in the leather——have just

invited me to catch their fancy (and illegal)

digs somewhere up in Harlem, when

this cop begins to tell his story:

how he and his partner trailed

this pusher for six weeks before

they trapped him in a burnt-out

tenement somewhere down in SoHo,

one coming at him up the stairwell,

the other up the fire escape

and through a busted window. But by

the time they've grabbed him

he's standing over an open window

and he's clean. The partner races down

into the courtyard and begins going

through the garbage until he finds

what it is he's after: a white bag

hanging from a junk mimosa like

the Christmas gift it is, and which now

he plants back on the suspect.

Cross-examined by a lawyer who does his best

to rattle them, he and his partner

stick by their story, and the charges stick.

Fitzgerald shrugs. Business as usual.

But the cop goes on. Better to let

the guy go free than under oath

to have to lie like that.

And suddenly you can hear the heavy

suck of air before Seluzzi, who

half an hour before was boasting

about being on the take, staggers

to his feet, outraged at what he's heard,

and insists on taking the bastard

downtown so they can book him.

Which naturally brings to an end

the discussion we've been having,

and soon each of us is heading

for an exit, embarrassed by the awkward

light the cop has thrown on things.

Which makes it clearer now to me why

the State would offer someone like Socrates

a shot of hemlock. And even clearer

why Socrates would want to drink it.

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