经典英文诗歌（实用）

　　在平平淡淡的日常中，大家一定没少看到经典的诗歌吧，诗歌能使人们自然而然地受到语言的触动。还苦于找不到好的诗歌？下面是小编为大家整理的经典英文诗歌，希望对大家有所帮助。

　　To the Tune of Intoxicated Under the Shadow of Flowers

　　Li Qingzhao

　　Light mists and heavy clouds,melancholy the long dreary day.

　　In the golden censer

　　the burning incense is dying away.

　　It is again time

　　for the lovely Double-Ninth Festival;

　　The coolness of midnight

　　penetrates my screen of sheer silk

　　and chills my pillow of jade.

　　After drinking wine at twilight

　　under the chrysanthemum hedge,My sleeves are perfumed

　　by the fragrance of the plants.

　　Oh, I cannot say it is not endearing,Only, when the west wind stir the curtain,I see that I am more gracile

　　than the yellow flowers.

　　醉花荫

　　李清照

　　薄雾浓云愁永昼，瑞脑销金兽。佳节又重阳，玉枕纱橱，半夜凉初透。

　　东篱把酒黄昏后，有暗香盈袖。莫道不销魂，帘卷西风，人比黄花瘦!

　　And then went down to the ship，

　　Set keel to breakers， forth on the godly sea， and

　　We set up mast and sail on tha swart ship，

　　Bore sheep aboard her， and our bodies also

　　Heavy with weeping， so winds from sternward

　　Bore us out onward with bellying canvas，

　　Circe's this craft， the trim－coifed goddess．

　　Then sat we amidships， wind jamming the tiller，

　　Thus with stretched sail， we went over sea till day's end．

　　Sun to his slumber， shadows o'er all the ocean，

　　Came we then to the bounds of deepest water，

　　To the Kimmerian lands， and peopled cities

　　Covered with close－webbed mist， unpierced ever

　　With glitter of sun－rays

　　Nor with stars stretched， nor looking back from heaven

　　Swartest night stretched over wretched men there．

　　The ocean flowing backward， came we then to the place

　　Aforesaid by Circe．

　　Here did they rites， Perimedes and Eurylochus，

　　And drawing sword from my hip

　　I dug the ell－square pitkin；

　　Poured we libations unto each the dead，

　　First mead and then sweet wine， water mixed with white flour．

　　Then prayed I many a prayer to the sickly death's－head；

　　As set in Ithaca， sterile bulls of the best

　　For sacrifice， heaping the pyre with goods，

　　A sheep to Tiresias only， black and a bell－sheep．

　　Dark blood flowed in the fosse，

　　Souls out of Erebus， cadaverous dead， of brides

　　Of youths and at the old who had borne much；

　　Souls stained with recent tears， girls tender，

　　Men many， mauled with bronze lance heads，

　　Battle spoil， bearing yet dreory arms，

　　These many crowded about me； with shouting，

　　Pallor upon me， cried to my men for more beasts；

　　Slaughtered the heards， sheep slain of bronze；

　　Poured ointment， cried to the gods，

　　To Pluto the strong， and praised Proserpine；

　　Unsheathed the narrow sword，

　　I sat to keep off the impetuous impotent dead，

　　Till I should hear Tiresias．

　　But first Elpenor came， our friend Elpenor，

　　Unburied， cast on the wide earth，

　　Limbs that we left in the house of Circe，

　　Unwept， unwrapped in sepulchre， since toils urged other．

　　Pitiful spirit． And I cried in hurried speech：

　　"Elpenor， how art thou come to this dark coast?

　　Cam'st thou afoot， outstripping seamen?"

　　And he in heavy speech：

　　"Ill fate and abundant wine． I slept in Circe's ingle．

　　Going down the long ladder unguarded，

　　I fell against the buttress，

　　Shattered the nape－nerve， the soul sought Avernus．

　　But thou， O King， I bid remember me， unwept， unburied，

　　Heap up mine arms， be tomb by sea－bord， and inscribed：

　　A man of no fortune， and with a name to come．

　　And set my oar up， that I swung mid fellows．"

　　And Anticlea came， whom I beat off， and then Tiresias Theban，

　　Holding his golden wand， knew me， and spoke first：

　　"A second time? why? man of ill star，

　　Facing the sunless dead and this joyless region?

　　Stand from the fosse， leave me my bloody bever

　　For soothsay．"

　　And I stepped back，

　　And he stong with the blood， said then： "Odysseus

　　Shalt return through spiteful Neptune， over dark seas，

　　Lose all companions．" And then Anticlea came．

　　Lie quiet Divus． I mean， that is Andreas Divus，

　　In officina Wecheli， 1538， out of Homer．

　　And he sailed， by Sirens and thence outward and away

　　And unto Circe．

　　Venerandam，

　　In the Creatan's phrase， with the golden crown， Aphrodite，

　　Cypri munimenta sortita est， mirthful， orichalchi， with golden

　　Girdles and breast bands， thou with dark eyelids

　　Bearing the golden bough of Argicida． So that

　　Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?

　　Shakespear

　　Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?

　　Thou art more lovely and more temperate.

　　Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,

　　And summer's lease hath all too short a date.

　　Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,

　　And often is his gold complexion dimm'd;

　　And every fair from fair sometime declines,

　　By chance or nature's changing course untrimm'd;

　　But thy eternal summer shall not fade

　　Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow'st;

　　Nor shall Death brag thou wander'st in his shade,

　　When in eternal lines to time thou grow'st:

　　So long as men can breathe or eyes can see,

　　So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.

　　你的长夏永远不会凋谢

　　我怎能够把你来比拟作夏天？

　　你不独比他可爱也比他温婉；

　　狂风把五月宠爱的嫩蕊作践，

　　夏天出赁的期限又未免太短；

　　天上的眼睛有时照得太酷烈，

　　他那炳耀的.金颜又常遭掩蔽；

　　给机缘或无偿的天道所摧残，

　　没有芳颜不终于凋残或销毁。

　　但你的长夏将永远不会凋落，

　　也不会损失你这皎洁的红芳；

　　或死神夸口你在他影里漂泊，

　　当你在不朽的诗里与时同长。

　　只要一天有人类，或人有眼睛，

　　这诗将长在，并且赐给你生命。

　　An ancient Hebraic text says:" love is as strong as death". It seems that not everyone experiences this kind of strong love. The increasing probably,crime and war tells us that the world is in indispensable need of true love. But what is true love?

　　Love is something we all how do we know when we experience it?

　　True love is best seen as the promotion and action, not an emotion. Love is not exclusively based how we ainly our emotions are they cannot be our only criteria for love is when you care enough about another person that you will lay down your life for them. When this happens,then love truly is as strong as many of you have a mother, or father,husband or wife,son or daughter or friend who would sacrifice his or her own life on yours? Those of you who truly love your spells but unchildren, would unselfishly lay your life on the line to save them from death? Many people in an emergency room with their loved ones and prayed"please, God,take me instead of them" true love and be a true lover as you find a love which is not only strong as death, but to leave to a truly for feeling life.

　　It was many and many a year ago, In a kingdom by the sea, That a maiden there lived whom you may know By the name of Annabel Lee;

　　And this maiden she lived with no other thought Than to love and be loved by me. I was a child and she was a child, In this kingdom by the sea: But we loved with a love that was more than love— I and my Annabel Lee;

　　With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven Laughed loud at her and me. And this was the reason that, long ago, In this kingdom by the sea, A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling My beautiful Annabel Lee;

　　So that her highborn kinsman came And bore her away from me, To shut her up in a sepulchre In this kingdom by the sea. The angels, not half so happy in heaven, Went laughing at her and me—

　　Yes!—that was the reason (as all men know, In this kingdom by the sea)

　　That the wind came out of the cloud by night, Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee. But our love it was stronger by far than the love Of those who were older than we— Of many far wiser than we—

　　And neither the laughter in heaven above, Nor the demons down under the sea, Can ever dissever my soul from the soul Of the beautiful Annabel Lee: For the moon never beams, without bringing me dreams Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;

　　And the stars never rise, but I feel the bright eyes Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;

　　And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side Of my darling—my darling—my life and my bride, In her sepulchre there by the sea, In her tomb by the sounding sea.

　　Daffodils黄水仙

　　I wander’d lonely as a cloud

　　我孤独地漫游,像一朵云

　　That floats on high o’er vales and hills,在山丘和谷地上飘荡,When all at once I saw a crowd,忽然间我看见一群

　　A host of golden daffodils;

　　成簇的金色水仙花,Beside the lake, beneath the trees,在树荫下,在湖水边,Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.迎着微风起舞翩翩。

　　Continuous as the stars that shine

　　连绵不绝,如繁星灿烂,And twinkle on the milky way,在银河里闪闪发亮,They stretch’d in never-ending line

　　它们沿着湖湾的边缘

　　Along the margin of a bay:延伸成无穷无尽的一行;

　　Ten thousand saw I at a glance,我一眼看见了一万朵,Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.在欢舞之中起伏荡漾。

　　The waves beside then danced; but they

　　粼粼波光也在跳着舞,Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:水仙的欢欣却胜过水波;

　　A poet could not but be gay,与这样快活的伴侣为伍,In such a jocund company:诗人怎能不满心欢乐!

　　I gazed-and gazed-but little thought我久久凝望,却想象不到

　　What wealth the show to me had brought:

　　这奇景赋予我多少宝藏,——

　　For oft, when on my couch I lie每当我躺在床上,In vacant or in pensive mood,或心神迷茫,或默默沉思,They flash upon that inward eye它们常在我心灵中闪现,Which is the bliss of solitude;那是孤独之中的`福祉;

　　And then my heart with pleasure fills,于是我的心便涨满幸福,And dances with the daffodils.和水仙一同翩翩起舞。

　　To a Lady答一位淑女

　　When Man, expell'd from Eden's bowers,当人被逐出伊甸园门，A moment linger'd near the gate,在门首盘桓，不忍遽去，Each scene recall'd the vanish'd hours,眼前的一切都枨触前尘，And bade him curse his future fate.

　　都叫他诅咒未来的境遇。

　　But, wandering on through distant climes,此后，他远走异域关山，He learnt to bear his load of grief;

　　学会了如何忍受悲苦;

　　Just gave a sigh to other times,对往日良辰只付之一叹，And found in busier scenes relief.

　　借纷繁景象把心事排除。

　　Thus, Mary! will it be with me,亲爱的`玛丽!我也像这般，And I must view thy charms no more;

　　不得不与你芳姿告别;

　　For, while I linger near to thee,倘若我在你左近盘桓，I sigh for all I knew before.

　　我也会叹惜往日的一切。

　　In flight I shall be surely wise,远游能使我明智地脱险，Escaping from temptation's snare;

　　逃离此间魔障的引诱;

　　I cannot view my paradise

　　只要我还能见到这乐园，Without the wish of dwelling there.

　　就不甘默认我无福消受。

　　诗歌欣赏：Camma

　　Camma

　　（To Ellen Terry）

　　As one who poring on a Grecian urn

　　Scans the fair shapes some Attic hand hath made，

　　God with slim goddess， goodly man with maid，

　　And for their beauty's sake is loth to turn

　　And face the obvious day， must I not yearn

　　For many a secret moon of indolent bliss，

　　When in midmost shrine of Artemis

　　I see thee standing， antique－limbed， and stern?

　　And yet － methinks I'd rather see thee play

　　That serpent of old Nile， whose witchery

　　Made Emperors drunken， － come， great Egypt， shake

　　Our stage with all thy mimic pageants！ Nay，

　　I am grown sick of unreal passions， make

　　The world thine Actium， me thine Anthony！

　　诗歌欣赏：A Prayer for My Son

　　Bid a strong ghost stand at the head

　　That my Michael may sleep sound，

　　Nor cry， nor turn in the bed

　　Till his morning meal come round；

　　And may departing twilight keep

　　All dread afar till morning‘s back，

　　That his mother may not lack

　　Her fill of sleep．

　　Bid the ghost have sword in fist：

　　Some there are， for I avow

　　Such devilish things exist，

　　Who have planned his murder， for they know

　　Of some most haughty deed or thought

　　That waits upon his future days，

　　And would through hatred of the bays

　　Bring that to nought．

　　Though You can fashion everything

　　From nothing every day， and teach

　　The morning stars to sing，

　　You have lacked articulate speech

　　To tell Your simplest want， and known，

　　Wailing upon a woman‘s knee，

　　All of that worst ignominy

　　Of flesh and bone；

　　And when through all the town there ran

　　The servants of Your enemy，

　　A woman and a man，

　　Unless the Holy Writings lie，

　　Hurried through the smooth and rough

　　And through the fertile and waste，

　　Protecting， till the danger past，

　　With human love．

　　A Path Between Houses

　　Where is the dwelling place of light?

　　And where is the house of darkness?

　　Go about； walk the limits of the land．

　　Do you know a path between them?

　　Job 38：19－20

　　The enigma of August．

　　Season of dust and teenage arson．

　　The nightly whine of pickup trucks

　　bouncing through the sumac

　　beneath the Co－Operative power lines，

　　country & western booming from woofers

　　carved into the doors． A trace of smoke

　　when the wins shifts，

　　spun gravel rattling the fenders of cars，

　　the groan of clutch and transaxle，

　　pickup trucks， arriving at a friction point，

　　gunning from nowhere to nowhere．

　　The duets begin． A compact disc，

　　a single line of muted trumpet，

　　plays against the sirens

　　pursuing the smoke of grass fires．

　　I love a painter． On a new canvas，

　　she paints the neighbor's field．

　　She paints it without trees，

　　and paints the field beyond the field，

　　the field that has no trees，

　　and the upturned Jesus boat，

　　made into a planter，

　　"For God so loved the world． ． ．"

　　a citation from John， chapter and verse，

　　splattered across the bow

　　the boat spills roses into the weeds．

　　What does the stray dog know，

　　after a taste of what is holy?

　　The sun pulls her shadow toward me，

　　an undulant shape that shelters the grass，

　　an unaimed thing．

　　In the gray house， the tiny house，

　　in '52 there was a fire． The old woman，

　　drunk and smoking cigarettes， fell asleep．

　　The winter of the blizzard and her son

　　Not coming home from the Yalu．

　　There are times I still smell smoke．

　　There are days I know she set the fire

　　and why．

　　Last night， lightning to the south．

　　Here， nothing， though along the river

　　the wind upends a willow，

　　a gorgon of leaves and bottom－up clod

　　browning in the afternoon sun．

　　In the museum we dispute

　　the poet's epiphany call——

　　white light or more warmth?

　　And what is the Greek word for the flesh，

　　and the body apart from the spirit，

　　meaning even the body opposed to the spirit?

　　I do not know this word．

　　Dante claims there are pools of fire

　　in the middle regions of hell，

　　but the lowest circles are lakes of ice，

　　offering the hope our greatest sins

　　aren't the passions but indifference．

　　And the willow grew for years

　　With no real hold upon the ground．

　　How the accident occurred

　　and how the sky got dark：

　　Six miles from my house，

　　a drunk leaves the Holiday Inn

　　spins on 104 and smacks a utility pole．

　　The power line sparks

　　across the hood of his Ford

　　and illuminates the crazed spider web

　　of the windshield． His bloody tongue burns

　　with a slurry gospel． Around me，

　　the lights go down，

　　the way death is described

　　as armor crashing to the ground，

　　the soul having already departed

　　for another place． Was it his body I heard

　　leaning against the horn，

　　the body's final song， before the body

　　slumped sideways in the seat?

　　When I was a child，

　　I would wake at night

　　and imagine a field of asteroids， rolling

　　across the walls of my room．

　　In fact， I've seen them，

　　like the last herd of buffalo，

　　grazing against the background of fixed stars．

　　Plate 420 shows the asteroid 433 Eros，

　　the bright point of light， as it closes its approach

　　to light． I loose myself in Cygnus，

　　ancient kamikaze swan，

　　rising or ping to earth，

　　Draco， snarling at the polestar，

　　and Pegasus， stone horse of the gods，

　　ecstatic， looking one last time at home．

　　August and the enigma it is．

　　Days when I move in crabbed circles，

　　nights when I walk with Jesus through the fields．

　　What finally stands between us

　　and the world of flying things?

　　Mobbed by jays， the Cooper's hawk

　　drops the dead bird． It tumbles

　　beneath the cedar tree，

　　tiny acrobat of death，

　　a dead bird released

　　in a failed act of atonement．

　　A nest of wasps buzzing beneath the shingles，

　　flickers drilling the cottonwood，

　　jays， sparrows， the insistent wrens，

　　the language of birds， heads cocked，

　　staring the moon－eyed through the air．

　　Sedge， asters， and fleabane，

　　red tins of gasoline and glowing cigarettes，

　　the midnight voice of a fourteen－year－old girl

　　wailing the word "blue" from the pickup's open doors，

　　illuminated by the dome light，

　　the sulphurous rasp of another struck match，

　　and foxglove， goldenrod and chicory，

　　the dry flowers of late summer，

　　an exhaustion I no longer look at．

　　Time passes． The authorities

　　gather the wreckage， the whirr

　　of cicadas， and light dissembles the sky．

　　A wind shift， and the Cedar Creek fire

　　snaps the backfire line

　　and roars through the cemetery．

　　In the morning，

　　I walk a path between houses．

　　I cross to the water

　　and circle again， the redwings

　　forcing me back from the marsh．

　　Smoke rises from a fire

　　still smoldering along the power lines，

　　flaring and exhausting itself

　　in the shape of something lost．

　　Grass fires， fires through the scrub

　　of the clear－cut， fires in the pulpwood，

　　cemetery fires，

　　the powder of ash still untracked

　　beneath the enormous trees，

　　fires that explode the seed cones

　　on the pines， the smoke of set fires

　　and every good intention gone wrong，

　　scorching the monuments

　　above the graves of the dead．

　　诗歌欣赏：Bamboo Adobe

　　I sit along in the dark bamboo grove，

　　Playing the zither and whistling long．

　　In this deep wood no one would know

　　Only the bright moon comes to shine．

　　诗歌欣赏：Byzantium

　　The unpurged images of day recede；

　　The Emperor‘s drunken soldiery are abed；

　　Night resonance recedes， night－walkers‘ song

　　After great cathedral gong；

　　A starlit or a moonlit dome disdains

　　All that man is，

　　All mere complexities，

　　The fury and the mire of human veins．

　　Before me floats an image， man or shade，

　　Shade more than man， more image than a shade；

　　For Hades‘ bobbin bound in mummy－cloth

　　May unwind the winding path；

　　A mouth that has no moisture and no breath

　　Breathless mouths may summon；

　　I hail the superhuman；

　　I call it death－in－life and life－in－death．

　　Miracle， bird or golden handiwork，

　　More miracle than bird or handiwork，

　　Planted on the star－lit golden bough，

　　Can like the cocks of Hades crow，

　　Or， by the moon embittered， scorn aloud

　　In glory of changeless metal

　　Common bird or petal

　　And all complexities of mire or blood．

　　At midnight on the Emperor‘s pavement flit

　　Flames that no faggot feeds， nor steel has lit，

　　Nor storm disturbs， flames begotten of flame，

　　Where blood－begotten spirits come

　　And all complexities of fury leave，

　　Dying into a dance，

　　An agony of trance，

　　An agony of flame that cannot singe a sleeve．

　　Astraddle on the dolphin‘s mire and blood，

　　Spirit after spirit！ The smithies break the flood，

　　The golden smithies of the Emperor！

　　Marbles of the dancing floor

　　Break bitter furies of complexity，

　　Those images that yet

　　Fresh images beget，

　　That dolphin－torn， that gong－tormented sea．

　　诗歌欣赏：Caged Bird

　　by Matthew J． Spireng

　　Some believe there's somewhere in the brain

　　that senses minor fluctuations in the Earth's

　　magnetic field and uses a sort of memory

　　of that to travel the same route year after year

　　over thousands of miles， over open ocean

　　on moonless， clouded nights， and a built－in clock

　　that， save for weather's influence， tells

　　when it's time to go． But they utter nothing

　　of thwarted dreams in birds' brains， how

　　a few cubic feet near the ground， however

　　well－kept and lighted， however large it seems

　　around a small bright bird， is like a fist

　　closed tight on feather and bone， how， certain times

　　of year， the bird's heart races as if to power flight．

　　Something there is that doesn't love a wall,有一样东西它不喜欢墙，That sends the frozen ground-swell under it,冻胀了墙下的基础土壤，And spills the upper boulders in the sun;

　　太阳一晒，墙上石块跌落在两旁;

　　And makes gaps even two can pass abreast.

　　墙体开裂，双人并肩而过像穿堂。

　　The work of hunters is another thing:

　　猎人的行为则是另一番景象：

　　I have come after them and made repair

　　我要紧随其后修补不停的'忙，Where they have left not one stone on a stone,他们拆掉石块却不放回原位上，But they would have the rabbit out of hiding,而是把兔子赶出让它们难躲藏，To please the yelping dogs. The gaps I mean,惹得猎狗叫汪汪。我所说的裂缝

　　No one has seen them made or heard them made,没有谁见过其开裂听过其声响，But at spring mending-time we find them there.

　　但到春天来修补，眼前已是百孔千疮。

　　I let my neighbor know beyond the hill;

　　我通知了山那边的邻居街坊，And on a day we meet to walk the line

　　约好了一天沿着墙巡查一趟，And set the wall between us once again.

　　重新垒起我们之间的这堵墙。

　　We keep the wall between us as we go.

　　我们沿着墙各自走在各一方，To each the boulders that have fallen to each.

　　将各自一侧的石块收拾妥当。

　　And some are loaves and some so nearly balls

　　有些石块成块状，有些近乎于球状，We have to use a spell to make them balance:

　　我们不得不口念咒语确保其稳当：

　　"Stay where you are until our backs are turned!"

　　“请呆在那儿不要晃，等我们折回来查访!”

　　We wear our fingers rough with handling them.

　　我们搬弄石块，手指被磨得粗糙无光。

　　Oh, just another kind of out-door game,啊，这种户外游戏只不过别于它样，One on a side. It comes to little more:

　　玩家各站各一方。这让我若有所想：

　　There where it is we do not need the wall:

　　我们在这里并不需要修建这堵墙：

　　He is all pine and I am apple orchard.

　　那边种松木这边种苹果树隔墙相望。

　　My apple trees will never get across

　　我的苹果树永远不会越过这一屏障：

　　And eat the cones under his pines, I tell him.

　　跑到他松树下去把松果尝，我对他讲。

　　He only says, "Good fences make good neighbors."

　　他只好说，“好篱笆会促成好街坊。”

　　Spring is the mischief in me, and I wonder

　　春天让我好心伤，我想知道

　　If I could put a notion in his head:

　　我是否能让他这样去思量：

　　"Why do they make good neighbors? Isn't it

　　好篱笆何以能促成好街坊?难道说

　　Where there are cows? But here there are no cows.

　　这是养牛的地方?但这纯粹是说谎。

　　Before I built a wall I'd ask to know

　　以前修建这堵墙，我就该好好想一想

　　What I was walling in or walling out,我要把什么东西来设防，And to whom I was like to give offense.

　　我是否有冒犯谁的地方。

　　Something there is that doesn't love a wall,有样东西它的确不喜欢墙，That wants it down." I could say "Elves" to him,就像妖鬼想让它倒塌一样，我这样讲。

　　But it's not elves exactly, and I'd rather

　　但准确地说这不是妖鬼，我宁愿

　　He said it for himself. I see him there

　　他自己说出来是啥名堂。我见他

　　Bringing a stone grasped firmly by the top

　　用双手将石块上端牢牢抓住不放，In each hand, like an old-stone savage armed.

　　就像石器时代武装的野蛮人一样。

　　He moves in darkness as it seems to me,我认为他似乎已坠入黑暗感到迷茫，Not of woods only and the shade of trees.

　　这黑暗不只是来自树林和树的影像。

　　He will not go behind his father's saying,他不去琢磨父辈曾如何对他讲，And he likes having thought of it so well

　　倒是认为父辈所说的话非常棒，He says again, "Good fences make good neighbors."

　　他接着又说，“好篱笆会促成好街坊。”

　　A Blooming Tree—Xi Murong 一棵开花的树——席慕容 May Buddha let us meet, 如何让你遇见我

　　in my most beautiful hours, 在我最美丽的时刻 I have prayed for it, 为这我已在佛前求了五百年 for five hundred years. 求佛让我们结一段尘缘 Buddha made me a tree, 佛於是把我化做一棵树 by the path you may take, 长在你必经的路旁

　　In full blossoms I'm waiting in the sun, 阳光下，慎重地开满了花

　　every flower carrying my previous hope. 朵朵都是我前世的`盼望

　　As you are near, listen carefully, 当你走近，请你细听，那颤抖的叶

　　the quivering leaves are my waiting zeal, 是我等待的热情

　　As you pass by the tree, 而当你终於无视地走过 without noticing me, 在你身後落了一地的

　　My friend, upon the ground behind you is not the fallen petals,

　　朋友啊，那不是花瓣 but my withered heart. 那是我凋零的心

　　I am not yours, not lost in you,

　　Not lost, although I long to be

　　Lost as a candle lit at noon,

　　Lost as a snowflake in the sea.

　　我不属于你，也没有沉迷于你，

　　没有，尽管我是如此希冀

　　像正午的蜡烛融化，

　　像雪花融汇在大海里。

　　You love me, and I find you still

　　A spirit beautiful and bright,

　　Yet I am I, who long to be

　　Lost as a light is lost in light.

　　你爱我，我也知道

　　你依然是一个精灵，聪明又美丽。

　　可我就是我，渴望着

　　像光一样迷失在光里。

　　Oh plunge me deep in love—put out

　　My senses, leave me deaf and blind,

　　Swept by the tempest of your love,

　　A taper in a rushing wind.

　　啊，将我深深地抛进爱里吧，

　　灭掉我的`心智，让我耳聋眼迷，

　　卷入你爱的暴风雨，

　　做狂风中的纤烛一支。

　　张继 枫桥夜泊

　　A Night-Mooring Near Maple Bridge

　　月落乌啼霜满天Moon going down, Crow cawing, frost filling all over the sky,

　　江枫渔火对愁眠Maple-trees near the river and torch in the fisher opposite the sleeping anxiety.

　　姑苏城外寒山寺From the temple on Cold Mountain out of Suzhou,

　　夜半钟声到客船The midnight ding touches my boat.

　　Making a Fist

　　For the first time，on the road north of Tampico，

　　I felt the life sliding out of me，

　　a drum in the desert，harder and harder to hear.

　　I was seven，I lay in the car

　　watching palm trees swirl a sickening pattern past the glass.

　　My stomach was a melon split wide inside my skin.

　　How do you know if you are going to die

　　I begged my mother.

　　We had been traveling for days.

　　With strange confidence she answered，

　　When you can no longer make a fist.

　　Years later I smile to think of that journey，

　　the borders we must cross separately，

　　stamped with our unanswerable woes.

　　I who did not die，who am still living，

　　still lying in the backseat behind all my questions，

　　clenching and opening one small hand.

　　Man and Wife

　　Tamed by Miltown，we lie on Mothers bed;

　　the rising sun in war paint dyes us red;

　　in broad daylight her gilded bed-posts shine，

　　abandoned，almost Dionysian.

　　At last the trees are green on Marlborough Street，

　　blossoms on our magnolia ignite

　　the morning with their murderous five days white.

　　All night Ive held your hand，

　　as if you had

　　a fourth time faced the kingdom of the mad

　　its hackneyed speech，its homicidal eye

　　and dragged me home alive. . . .Oh my Petite，

　　clearest of all Gods creatures，still all air and nerve：

　　you were in our twenties，and I，

　　once hand on glass

　　and heart in mouth，

　　outdrank the Rahvs in the heat

　　of Greenwich Village，fainting at your feet

　　too boiled and shy

　　and poker-faced to make a pass，

　　while the shrill verve

　　of your invective scorched the traditional South.

　　Now twelve years later，you turn your back.

　　Sleepless，you hold

　　your pillow to your hollows like a child;

　　your old-fashioned tirade

　　loving，rapid，merciless

　　breaks like the Atlantic Ocean on my head.

　　Mama, Come Back

　　Mama，come back.

　　Why did you leave

　　now that I am learning you

　　The landlady next door

　　how she apologizes

　　for my rough brown skin

　　to her tenant from Hong Kong

　　as if I were her daughter，

　　as if she were you.

　　How do I say I miss you

　　your scolding

　　your presence

　　your roast loin of pork

　　more succulent，more tender

　　than any hotel chefs

　　The fur coat you wanted

　　making you look like a polar bear

　　and the mink-trimmed coat

　　I once surprised you

　　on Christmas morning.

　　Mama，how you said importment

　　for important，

　　your gold tooth flashing

　　an insecurity you dared not bare，

　　wanting recognition

　　simply as eating noodles

　　and riding in a motor car

　　to the supermarket

　　the movie theater

　　adorned in your gold and jade

　　as if all your jewelry

　　confirmed your identity

　　a Chinese woman in America.

　　How you said you better

　　always your last words

　　glazed through your dark eyes

　　following me fast as you could

　　one November evening in New York City

　　how I thought Hello，Dolly!

　　showed you an America

　　you never saw.

　　How your fear of being alone

　　kept me dutiful in body

　　resentful in mind.

　　How my fear of being single

　　kept me

　　from moving out.

　　How I begged your forgiveness

　　after that one big fight

　　how I wasnt wrong

　　but needed you to love me

　　as warmly as you hugged strangers.

　　The Griesly Wife 神秘的妻子

　　The Griesly Wife

　　Lie still, my newly married wife,Lie easy as you can.

　　You’re young and ill accustomed yet

　　To sleeping with a man.

　　The snow lay thick, the moon was full

　　And shone across the floor.

　　The young wife went with never a word

　　Barefooted to the door.

　　He up and followed sure and fast,The moon shone clear and white.

　　But before his coat was on his back

　　His wife was out of sight.

　　He trod the trail wherever it turned

　　By many a mound and scree*,And till the barefoot track led on,And an angry man was he.

　　He followed fast, he followed slow,And still he called her name,But only the dingoes* of the hills,Yowled back at him again.

　　His hair stood up along his neck,His angry mind was gone,For the track of the two bare feet gave out

　　And a four-foot track went on.

　　Her nightgown lay upon the snow

　　As it might upon the sheet,But the track that led from where it lay

　　Was never of human feet.

　　His heart turned over his chest,He looked from side to side,And he thought more of his gumwood fire

　　Than he did of his griesly* bride.

　　And first he started walking back

　　And then began to run,And his quarry wheeled at the end of her track

　　And hunted him in turn.

　　O, long the fire may burn for him

　　And open stand the door,And long the bed may wait empty：

　　He’ll not be back any more.

　　注 dingoes*:wild dogs

　　scree*： stony slope

　　griesly*:uncanny,mysterious

　　神秘的妻子

　　“躺下吧, 我新婚的妻子,自由自在, 安安静静;

　　与男人睡在一起,你还太过年轻, 不大适应。”

　　外面的积雪已深,屋里透进了满月的光明;

　　年轻的妻子一声不吭,光着脚丫走出家门。

　　他翻身起床随后紧跟,月光辉耀皎洁明净;

　　可还没等他披好衣服,妻子就消失得无综无影。

　　追过一座座山一面面坡,他紧紧跟随那雪上的脚印;

　　那赤足的脚印不断往前,他心中的怒火油然而生。

　　他在后面紧追慢赶,大声呼喊着她的姓名,但只有山中成群的野狗,向他报以狂吠声声。

　　他不由寒毛倒竖,胸中的怒火也荡然无存;

　　因为一双赤脚的'足迹已经消失,变成了四足的印痕继续前行。

　　她的睡衣脱在雪地,像摆放在床上合于常情;

　　可那周围延伸开去的足迹,又绝不是人类留下的脚萤?

　　他举目四周张望,一阵恐怖使他失魄丧魂;

　　他忆起那橡胶木的炉火,不敢再想他新婚的神秘女人。

　　他开始迈步返回,紧接着就拔腿飞奔;

　　他追逐的脚印转过身来,反倒把他作为猎物追寻。

　　啊, 那炉火会为他悠悠燃烧,那新房开着门将他迟迟久等;

　　那张空床也将无尽地期待,可他再也不会重返家门。

　　英文诗歌朗诵鉴赏

　　Lines 爱的悲歌

　　Lines

　　When the lamp is shattered,The light in the dust lies dead;

　　When the cloud is scattered,The rainbow’s glory is shed;

　　When the lute is broken,Sweet tones are remembered not;

　　When the lips have spoken,Loved accents are soon forgot.

　　As music and splendor

　　Survive not the lamp and the lute,The heart’s echoes render

　　No song when the spirit is mute：---

　　No song but sad dirges,Like the wind through a ruined cell,Or the mournful surges

　　That ring the dead seaman’s knell.

　　When hearts have once mingled,Love first leaves the well-built nest;

　　The weak one is singled

　　To endure what it once possessed.

　　O Love! who bewailest*

　　The frailty of all things here,Why choose you the frailest

　　For your cradle, your home, and your bier?

　　Its passions will rock thee,As the storms rock the ravens on high;

　　Bright reason will mock thee,Like the sun from a wintry sky.

　　From thy nest every rafter

　　Will rot, and thine eagle home

　　Leave thee naked to laughter,When leaves fall and cold winds come.

　　注 bewailest： laments

　　爱的悲歌

　　明灯一旦破碎，光亮随着熄灭;

　　云雾一旦消散，彩虹的辉耀难再摇曳;

　　古瑟一旦损毁，就把动人的琴曲忘却;

　　缠绵的话语刚刚出口，爱侣就恩断情绝。

　　灯碎光不再，琴破曲亦歇;

　　当灵魂归于沉寂，无法拨动的心弦冰冷如铁;

　　像寒风吹过破败的废墟，那歌声带着多少悲切;

　　像为死去的水手敲响丧钟，那悼亡的涛声如此惨烈。

　　两情刚刚相好，爱就与那精心构筑的爱巢告别;

　　常常留下一颗柔弱的心，空想往事耗尽心血;

　　爱情呵，爱情，谁为这最脆最弱悲泣呜咽?

　　为何选择这最脆最弱，送往安寝的棺廓和墓穴?

　　爱的情意将把你摧折，如暴风雨中的乌鸦精疲力竭;

　　理智的辉光将把你嘲弄，就象冬日的斜阳冷如霜雪;

　　你巢穴的棺木会一根根腐朽，耻笑会把你裸露的躯体点点噬啮;

　　你的坆头将刮起寒风，你的墓旁将堆满落叶。

　　英文诗歌朗诵赏析

　　To Ladies’ Eyes 姑娘的眼睛

　　To Ladies’ Eyes

　　To ladies’ eyes a round, boy,We can’t refuse, we can’t refuse;

　　Though bright eyes so abound, boy,’Tis hard to choose, ’tis hard to choose.

　　For thick as stars that lighten

　　Yon airy bowers*, yon airy bowers,????

　　The countless eyes that brighten

　　This earth of ours, this earth of ours.

　　But fill the cup—where’er, boy,Our choose may fall, our choose may fall,We’re sure to find love there, boy,So drink them all! so drink them all!

　　Some looks there are so holy,They seem but given, they seem but given,As splendid beacons so holy,To light to heaven, to light to heaven.

　　While some--oh! Ne’er believe them---

　　With tempting ray, with tempting ray,Would lead us (God forgive them!)

　　The other way, the other way.

　　But fill the cup—where’er, boy,Our choice may fall, our choice may fall,We’re sure to find love there, boy,So drink them all! so drink them all!

　　In some, as in a mirror,Love seems portrayed;

　　But shun the flattering error,’Tis but his shade, ’tis but his shade.

　　Himself has fixed his dwelling

　　In eyes we know, in eyes we know,And lips--but this is telling,So here they go! so here they go!

　　Fill up, fill up—where’er, boy,Our choice may fall, our choice may fall,We’re sure to find love there, boy,So drink them all! so drink them all!

　　注：bowers* heaven

　　姑娘的眼睛

　　姑娘的眼睛悦目赏心,姑娘的眼睛摄魄勾魂;

　　小伙子,无法抗拒,难以选定,她们的明眸充满万种风情。

　　在那高高的天宇,在那高高的天宇,那密布的星云点起了华灯;

　　在我们的大地,在我们的大地,那无数的眼睛带来了光明。

　　小伙子, 斟酒吧,无论何处,我们总要选定,我们总要选定,我们肯定会在那里找到爱情,为她们一饮而尽!

　　为她们一饮而尽!

　　有些目光是天设地造,它们显得多么神圣;

　　就像那闪耀的灯塔,照亮了天国的航程。

　　照亮了天国的航程。

　　然而另一些目光,呵，切莫轻信;

　　那么烁烁诱人,那么烁烁诱人,让上帝饶恕她们,会把我们误導,让我们驶入地狱之门。

　　小伙子, 斟酒吧,无论何处,我们总要选定,我们总要选定,我们肯定会在那里找到爱情,为她们一饮而尽!

　　为她们一饮而尽!

　　还有些目光犹如明镜,映照中的爱栩栩如生;

　　总把缺憾迎合地矫饰,这就是他的照影。

　　这就是他的照影。

　　就在那熟知的眼睛,就在那熟知的眼睛,他把自己的归宿认定;

　　还有那轻启的朱唇,在发出呼唤声声;

　　催促他们去匆匆追寻!

　　催促他们去匆匆追寻!

　　小伙子, 斟酒吧,无论何处,我们总要选定,我们总要选定,我们肯定会在那里找到爱情,为她们一饮而尽!

　　为她们一饮而尽!

　　王维 《渭川田家》

　　斜光照墟落，穷巷牛羊归。

　　野老念牧童，倚杖侯荆扉。

　　雉雊麦苗秀，蚕眠桑叶稀。

　　田夫荷锄至，相见语依依，即此羡闲逸，怅然吟式微。

　　Tillers by the Weichuan River

　　A slanting sun on the village shines;

　　Returning cattle to the lane trail near.

　　A grandpa, on staff, by his gate of vines

　　And brambles, waits for his herds-lad dear.

　　The pheasants call. The wheat-ear grows.

　　The silkworms sleep, and mulberries are bare.

　　The ploughmen homeward, carrying hoes,Enjoy to meet and chat fore’er.

　　What carefree country folk are they!

　　They make me sigh, “O show the way!”