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關(guān)于經(jīng)典的英文詩(shī)歌朗誦

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關(guān)于經(jīng)典的英文詩(shī)歌朗誦

  英語(yǔ)詩(shī)歌是英美文學(xué)中的珍寶。在英美文學(xué)中,尤其是早期作品中,如史詩(shī)及戲劇都是以詩(shī)歌的形式出現(xiàn)。欣賞英語(yǔ)詩(shī)歌是英語(yǔ)學(xué)習(xí)的重要部分。小編精心收集了關(guān)于經(jīng)典的英文詩(shī)歌,供大家欣賞學(xué)習(xí)!

  關(guān)于經(jīng)典的英文詩(shī)歌篇1

  Riverbank Blues

  by Sterling A. Brown

  A man git his feet set in a sticky mudbank,

  A man git dis yellow water in his blood,

  No need for hopin', no need for doin',

  Muddy streams keep him fixed for good.

  Little Muddy, Big Muddy, Moreau and Osage,

  Little Mary's, Big Mary's, Cedar Creek,

  Flood deir muddy water roundabout a man's roots,

  Keep him soaked and stranded and git him weak.

  Lazy sun shinin' on a little cabin,

  Lazy moon glistenin' over river trees;

  Ole river whisperin', lappin' 'gainst de long roots:

  "Plenty of rest and peace in these . . ."

  Big mules, black loam, apple and peach trees,

  But seems lak de river washes us down

  Past de rich farms, away from de fat lands,

  Dumps us in some ornery riverbank town.

  Went down to the river, sot me down an' listened,

  Heard de water talkin' quiet, quiet lak an' slow:

  "Ain' no need fo' hurry, take yo' time, take yo'

  time . . ." Heard it sayin'——"Baby, hyeahs de way life go . . ."

  Dat is what it tole me as I watched it slowly rollin',

  But somp'n way inside me rared up an' say,

  "Better be movin' . . . better be travelin' . . . Riverbank'll

  git you ef you stay . . ."

  Towns are sinkin' deeper, deeper in de riverbank,

  Takin' on de ways of deir sulky Ole Man

  Takin' on his creepy ways, takin' on his evil ways,

  "Bes' git way, a long way . . . whiles you can. "Man got his

  sea too lak de Mississippi Ain't got so long for a whole lot longer way,

  Man better move some, better not git rooted Muddy water fool you, ef you stay …… ."

  關(guān)于經(jīng)典的英文詩(shī)歌篇2

  Parker's Mountain

  by Kate Knapp Johnson

  It is the summer bears ruled, the last summer

  of pure breathlessness

  when I moved unaware, taken in

  by the netted branches of raspberries, held

  in trance by the sweet air

  of the orchards. My grandfather

  died at home one night in early July

  as expected, and the white clouds drifted like snow

  on the face of the black lake.

  Grandmother swept her porch clean, every morning

  pushed grief under the railings like wisps

  of an old bird's nest. Together

  we watched the she-bear heave both bins

  of garbage across the red clay road, her cubs

  somersaulting each other, never minding

  their mother's cautioning strikes. It is the summer

  I was on the brink of seeing

  some unexperienced light, although I stood

  in darkness, or swam in spools

  of dark while everything was bright around;

  the gold lilies and their shadows flickered

  one on one and the two swans stayed

  faithful and fierce in their cove. I was twelve

  and though I knew language

  I did not know the meaning of things——

  I lived within a lattice of time, unhurt,

  undifferentiated, so that even in remembering now

  there is only the singular quality

  of that time itself; while I was there,

  in its duration, I was possessed, wind-mastered

  as the scrolled fields of clouds and disappointed

  when the spell was broken and the real snow

  came, and the cold.

  關(guān)于經(jīng)典的英文詩(shī)歌篇3

  Road TarRoad Tar

  by Chase Twichell

  A kid said you could chew road tar

  if you got it before it cooled,

  black globule with a just-forming skin.

  He said it was better than cigarettes.

  He said he had a taste for it.

  On the same road, a squirrel

  was doing the Watusi to free itself

  from its crushed hindquarters.

  A man on a bicycle stomped on its head,

  then wiped his shoe on the grass.

  It was autumn, the adult word for fall.

  In school we saw a film called Reproduction.

  The little snake-father poked his head

  into the slippery future,

  and a girl with a burned tongue was conceived.

  關(guān)于經(jīng)典的英文詩(shī)歌篇4

  Rock and Hawk

  by Robinson Jeffers

  Here is a symbol in which

  Many high tragic thoughts

  Watch their own eyes.

  This gray rock, standing tall

  On the headland, where the seawind

  Lets no tree grow,

  Earthquake-proved, and signatured

  By ages of storms: on its peak

  A falcon has perched.

  I think, here is your emblem

  To hang in the future sky;

  Not the cross, not the hive,

  But this; bright power, dark peace;

  Fierce consciousness joined with final

  Disinterestedness;

  Life with calm death; the falcon's

  Realist eyes and act

  Married to the massive

  Mysticism of stone,

  Which failure cannot cast down

  Nor success make proud.

  
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