精美英文小詩閱讀
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(zhì)與精神、理智與情感。詩歌本身包含的豐富社會生活內(nèi)容和藝術(shù)內(nèi)涵，詩歌語言的獨特的美與和諧都使它們具有無窮的魅力。下面學(xué)習(xí)啦小編為大家?guī)砭烙⑽男≡婇喿x，歡迎大家閱讀!
精美英文小詩：Lake Como
The searchlight of a February moon
at the end of the street
bare trees black railing
an eastern star set like a pearl atop a steeple
that shadows the doorway
where the one-armed card shark squats
shuffling his deck on a milk crate
waiting for the No. 6 bus to discharge
the off-duty cop the seamstress
the drunken mechanic and the clerk on crutches
who pauses before his building to watch
the mechanic lose three dollars at blackjack
and then stiffly ascends the five flights
to his two rooms on a shaftway
hanging his coat on a hook
and sitting down at the table
on which this morning he placed
a soup bowl and spoon
a tin of crackers and the crossword
puzzle he had been laboring over
beneath the gaze of his late wife
her color photograph propped up in a small frame
a young woman in a boxy dress and felt cap
waving shyly by the edge of a lake
where over her shoulder beneath a clear sky
a sailboat rides the wind
passengers on the polished deck
gazing at the glowing mountain peaks
the cypresses lining the shore
and the pink palazzi with ancient gardens
these men and women in white
who seem to live upon the water
gliding among themselves oblivious to strife
and all else that wears a body down
some sipping from crystal goblets
others just drinking in the light
精美英文小詩：My Psychic
has a giant hand diagrammed in front of her place
on West Tennessee.
It towers above a kudzu hill as if
to offer a cosmic How!
as in Hello! from a long
way off， as in how
she already knows
the sundry screwed up ways a day
can go days before
I park my wreck on the hill again beside
her white Mercedes.
O little slice of Lebanon!
O cedar scented
cards fanned like feathers
of a Byzantine peacock!
Tell me again how I might have been a fine lawyer，
that I'll raise four kids in Tallahassee，
how I married-it's true-on my lunch break-Yez
she took you to lunch okay a zeven year lunch ha ha!
Incense. Mini-shrine.
A wagon train of chihuahuas snoozing by her slippers.
You have anxious about a furniture… I do.
But lately I've grown cold，
unconsoled by her extrasensory view.
I think no need to speak-across
the black tabletop， I don't want to know
if I'll find a bright city，
a room by the river，a love
I will recognize
by her dragonfly
tattoo. O narrative of ether!
O non-refundable
life facts! say that what happens may not matter，
or that it matters as any
story does when two fresh lovers
embrace the old pact
(her bra on the chair，
his socks in the kitchen) that says
their love is level，
unfabled， new. Level with me，
tell me why the dogs on the floor，
little moon fed hounds of Delphi， seem so over it，
so done with the fleas of destiny.
Maybe that's the right attitude，
no need to ask why I'm here on a perfectly blue Friday，
content with what the thin air，
what the dust motes in the light say near the high window.
I should've learned that music long ago
O soundless number!
O jukebox of being that the dogs dream to!
No faux crystal ball，
no tea leaves or terrace in the nether
reaches of my palm
will make her answers
less like hocus pocus in a purchased dark.
It's time to pay， to drive away
from telepathic altitudes， to say adieu
to why love ends. How
How a heart opens again.
Why anything is true.
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