關於簡單易讀的英文詩
英語詩歌因其節奏、思想意義及藝術價值,在英語教學中佔有一席之地。小編整理了，歡迎閱讀!
篇一
Sappho in Her Study
by Kelly Cherry
The files in the filing cabinet
Are all talking at once.
Mumble jumble， say the files
In the filing cabinet.
The desk， discreet，
Discloses nothing.
Rough drafts live
A roustabout life，
Tumbling from shelves，
While books， published
and smugly replete，
No longer feel the need
To compete.
Stationery sprawls，
Casual as sunbathers.
In the locked drawer，
Love letters lie.
篇二
Tours
by C. D. Wright
A girl on the stairs listens to her father
Beat up her mother.
Doors bang.
She comes down in her nightgown.
The piano stands there in the dark
Like a boy with an orchid.
She plays what she can
Then she turns the lamp on.
Her mother's music is spread out
On the floor like brochures.
She hears her father
Running through the leaves.
The last black key
She presses stays down， makes no sound
Someone putting their tongue where their tooth had been.
篇三
Traveling through the Dark
by William Stafford
Traveling through the dark I found a deer
dead on the edge of the Wilson River road.
It is usually best to roll them into the canyon：
that road is narrow; to swerve might make more dead.
By glow of the tail-light I stumbled back of the car
and stood by the heap， a doe， a recent killing;
she had stiffened already， almost cold.
I dragged her off; she was large in the belly.
My fingers touching her side brought me the reason
her side was warm; her fawn lay there waiting，
alive， still， never to be born.
Beside that mountain road I hesitated.
The car aimed ahead its lowered parking lights;
under the hood purred the steady engine.
I stood in the glare of the warm exhaust turning red;
around our group I could hear the wilderness listen.
I thought hard for us all——my only swerving，
then pushed her over the edge into the river.
篇四
Scenes From the Battle of Us
by Cate Marvin
You are like a war novel， entirely lacking
female characters， except for an occasional
letter that makes one of the men cry.
I am like a table
that eats its own legs off
because it's fallen
in love with the floor.
My frantic hand can't find where my leg
went. You can play the tourniquet. A tree
with white limbs will grow here someday.
Or maybe a pup tent
that's collapsed in on itself，
it so loves the sleep
of men sleeping beneath it.
The reason why women dislike war movies
may have something to do with why men hate
romantic comedies： they are both about war.
Perhaps I should
live in a pig's trough.
There， I'd be wanted.
There， I'd be tasted.
When the mail bag drops from the sky
and lands heavy on the jungle floor， its letters
are prepared to swim away with your tears.
One letter reads：
I can barely feel
furtive. The other：
I am diminishing.
篇五
The Young Fools
by Paul Verlaine ***Translated by Louis Simpson***
High-heels were struggling with a full-length dress
So that， between the wind and the terrain，
At times a shining stocking would be seen，
And gone too soon. We liked that foolishness.
Also， at times a jealous insect's dart
Bothered out beauties. Suddenly a white
Nape flashed beneath the branches， and this sight
Was a delicate feast for a young fool's heart.
Evening fell， equivocal， dissembling，
The women who hung dreaming on our arms
Spoke in low voices， words that had such charms
That ever since our stunned soul has been trembling.