英語(yǔ)詩(shī)歌朗讀
詩(shī)是一切知識(shí)的菁華,是人類(lèi)強(qiáng)烈情感的自然流露。 英語(yǔ)詩(shī)歌語(yǔ)言高度凝練、意象豐富、意義深遠(yuǎn)、韻律感強(qiáng)、形式多樣且便于記憶等特點(diǎn)無(wú)一不為英語(yǔ)寫(xiě)作提供了豐富的素材,為學(xué)生選詞造句提供了參考價(jià)值。學(xué)習(xí)啦小編分享英語(yǔ)詩(shī)歌，希望可以幫助大家!
英語(yǔ)詩(shī)歌：A Dusk
Christian Wiman
How slowly the mountain
takes it in,
like a diagnosis
of darkness.
The consolation
of a continuation
that has nothing to do
with you.
英語(yǔ)詩(shī)歌：
I Walk from Steeple to Steeple
Regan Good
You diagram promises by your advancements
but leave bad things behind -- germy wing.
(World like a large drum beaten by soft things.)
I've spun unlike the lilies without proper goals,
toiled in wrong ways, it was the wrong difficulty
I sought.
Stunning the newborn things, all
these babies baking in their brains or playing
in the fronds in their throes --
The steeples were needle-like in their insistence
that the answer was always up, yet, with gusto
one walks the paved streets under the boiling sun --
(We live in the world with the bird and the whale.)
Despite the hemlock on the hill; despite the crow --
I watched the movement of the birds exact diligence
of no consequence but description,
heavenly description, of things fluted and feathered,
things flying liquid and high.
They cleave and cluster,
break then roll, corrosive mites infesting underwings,
their stained skin hidden from the whorl in my eye.
Behind my back -- the hooded rill of woods.
(Sun gavels the clouds; rain pounds the underdrum.)
Birds are the lilies. The will is the sickle. Birdsong
over the Willsong, one whistles loudly on the bluestone,
especially through long rains, though most hotly in the sun.
One wears it as a crown -- the sun and its wreathing song.
(We are as in a big drum, cold, pale spring, the increments of an underwing.)
Above, birds flying in circles and common-seeming serpentines.
英語(yǔ)詩(shī)歌：Flight
Christian Wiman
-- after Anna Akhmatova
In the end we love the line love cannot cross.
In the end we fall for what we fail.
Forget friendship. Ardor.
Forget the years that only grow harder
as the soul recedes in what the years bring,
grown alien to any touchable thing.
Touch me. As I am. As you can.
My heart a bird's heart just beyond your hand.
英語(yǔ)詩(shī)歌：A Final Ease
Barry Spacks
After the vaunting reach for gold,
feeling no need for a curtain-call,
I'd leave the stage with ardor cooled
as Sisyphus, at the foot of the hill,
might give it all up, the crazy rote
of shove and sweat he'd always known,
cease with a smile, light a cheroot,
and sit down on his stone.
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