關於優美的英文詩推薦

　　文學語言在很多情況下突破 語言 ,呈現自身的美學特徵。作為高度凝練的文學語言的典型代表,詩歌更加註重追求一種特殊的審美或詩學效果。小編整理了關於優美的英文詩，歡迎閱讀!

　　關於優美的英文詩篇一

　　The Path

　　by Emily Fragos

　　There is so little to go on： a pale

　　trembling hand as I stand over you，

　　my finger tracing the words on the page，

　　a foreign language you are learning

　　for a journey without me. You will do

　　fine， I say. You will wrap your tongue

　　around these sounds and be understood，

　　be given what you desire： a loaf of bread，

　　change for your money， an antique doll

　　with violent eyes. Paintings are hanging

　　on walls， behind glass， waiting for you

　　to admire them. Their plaintive beauty

　　will move through you and you will walk

　　back to your hotel through the park

　　I know well. I spent years there walking

　　its bridle path， a gray cat in my arms，

　　moving toward you， blind， in another life.

　　關於優美的英文詩篇二

　　Carrowmore

　　by Lucie Brock-Broido

　　All about Carrowmore the lambs

　　Were blotched blue， belonging.

　　They were waiting for carnage or

　　Snuff. This is why they are born

　　To begin with， to end.

　　Ruminants do not frighten

　　At anything——gorge in the soil， butcher

　　Noise， the mere graze of predators.

　　All about Carrowmore

　　The rain quells for three days.

　　I remember how cold I was， the botched

　　Job of traveling. And just so.

　　Wherever I went I came with me.

　　She buried her bone barrette

　　In the ground's woolly shaft.

　　A tear of her hair， an old gift

　　To the burnt other who went

　　First. My thick braid， my ornament——

　　My belonging I

　　Remember how cold I will be.

　　關於優美的英文詩篇三

　　Carrion Comfort

　　by Gerard Manley Hopkins

　　Not， I'll not， carrion comfort， Despair， not feast on thee;

　　Not untwist——slack they may be——these last strands of man

　　In me ór， most weary， cry I can no more. I can;

　　Can something， hope， wish day come， not choose not to be.

　　But ah， but O thou terrible， why wouldst thou rude on me

　　Thy wring-world right foot rock? lay a lionlimb against me? scan

　　With darksome devouring eyes my bruisèd bones? and fan，

　　O in turns of tempest， me heaped there; me frantic to avoid thee

　　and flee?

　　Why? That my chaff might fly; my grain lie， sheer and clear.

　　Nay in all that toil， that coil， since ***seems*** I kissed the rod，

　　Hand rather， my heart lo! lapped strength， stole joy， would laugh， chéer.

　　Cheer whom though? The hero whose heaven-handling flung me，

　　fóot tród

　　Me? or me that fought him? O which one? is it each one? That night，

　　that year

　　Of now done darkness I wretch lay wrestling with ***my God!*** my God.

　　關於優美的英文詩篇四

　　The Pear

　　by Chad Davidson

　　It's the consistency of flesh that drives us，

　　how a pome ascends the stairs

　　of its origin. A boy shakes

　　pears down off the higher branches

　　as his friends scavenge underneath，

　　groping for the thing necks.

　　If you find yourself holding one，

　　hungry， if that's the word，

　　then you are testament

　　to what festers in its fattened lobe

　　like a ball of sugar bees.

　　Here is Augustine， his thin

　　fingers tearing into skin

　　that barely holds the pulp

　　around its core. Poised nudes

　　forever in their sunny chairs，

　　they await whatever plucking

　　comes. When they're eaten

　　with darkness plunging

　　always further into their hearts，

　　a few seeds ache then swell black

　　as appetite. Or as their profile

　　imitates a lover's falling

　　breasts， we take them in

　　as we do our own bodies，

　　as infants do， wanting anything

　　to give our wanting form.

　　關於優美的英文詩篇五

　　Catch a Little Rhymeby Eve Merriam

　　Once upon a time

　　I caught a little rhyme

　　I set it on the floor

　　but it ran right out the door

　　I chased it on my bicycle

　　but it melted to an icicle

　　I scooped it up in my hat

　　but it turned into a cat

　　I caught it by the tail

　　but it stretched into a whale

　　I followed it in a boat

　　but it changed into a goat

　　When I fed it tin and paper

　　it became a tall skyscraper

　　Then it grew into a kite

　　and flew far out of sight……