關於愛情的著名英文詩

　　詩歌用優美的形式表達思想、傳遞情感,詩可以詠志,詩可以言情,詩可以表意。詩歌之所以具有如此大的力量,就在於其能夠引起人的審美愉悅感,喚起欣賞者強烈的情感共鳴。小編整理了，歡迎閱讀!

　　篇一

　　Mirabeau Bridge

　　by Guillaume Apollinaire ***Translated by Donald Revell***

　　Under Mirabeau Bridge the river slips away

　　And lovers

　　Must I be reminded

　　Joy came always after pain

　　The night is a clock chiming

　　The days go by not I

　　We're face to face and hand in hand

　　While under the bridges

　　Of embrace expire

　　Eternal tired tidal eyes

　　The night is a clock chiming

　　The days go by not I

　　Love elapses like the river

　　Love goes by

　　Poor life is indolent

　　And expectation always violent

　　The night is a clock chiming

　　The days go by not I

　　The days and equally the weeks elapse

　　The past remains the past

　　Love remains lost

　　Under Mirabeau Bridge the river slips away

　　The night is a clock chiming

　　The days go by not I

　　篇二

　　Minor Miracle

　　by Marilyn Nelson

　　Which reminds me of another knock-on-wood

　　memory. I was cycling with a male friend，

　　through a small midwestern town. We came to a 4-way

　　stop and stopped， chatting. As we started again，

　　a rusty old pick-up truck， ignoring the stop sign，

　　hurricaned past scant inches from our front wheels.

　　My partner called， "Hey， that was a 4-way stop!"

　　The truck driver， stringy blond hair a long fringe

　　under his brand-name beer cap， looked back and yelled，

　　"You fucking niggers!"

　　And sped off.

　　My friend and I looked at each other and shook our heads.

　　We remounted our bikes and headed out of town.

　　We were pedaling through a clear blue afternoon

　　between two fields of almost-ripened wheat

　　bordered by cornflowers and Queen Anne's lace

　　when we heard an unmuffled motor， a honk-honking.

　　We stopped， closed ranks， made fists.

　　It was the same truck. It pulled over.

　　A tall， very much in shape young white guy slid out：

　　greasy jeans， homemade finger tattoos， probably

　　a Marine Corps boot-camp footlockerful

　　of martial arts techniques.

　　"What did you say back there!" he shouted.

　　My friend said， "I said it was a 4-way stop.

　　You went through it."

　　"And what did I say?" the white guy asked.

　　"You said： 'You fucking niggers.'"

　　The afternoon froze.

　　"Well，" said the white guy，

　　shoving his hands into his pockets

　　and pushing dirt around with the pointed toe of his boot，

　　"I just want to say I'm sorry."

　　He climbed back into his truck and drove away

　　篇三

　　Miracle Ice Cream

　　by Adrienne Rich

　　Miracle's truck comes down the little avenue，

　　Scott Joplin ragtime strewn behind it like pearls，

　　and， yes， you can feel happy

　　with one piece of your heart.

　　Take what's still given： in a room's rich shadow

　　a woman's breasts swinging lightly as she bends.

　　Early now the pearl of dusk dissolves.

　　Late， you sit weighing the evening news，

　　fast-food miracles， ghostly revolutions，

　　the rest of your heart.

　　篇四

　　Misconceptions of Childhoodby Celia Bland

　　My father was a sidewise Jack，

　　always in profile， a hand on his rod.

　　His pack was a Destroyer， said my mother，

　　where he played ping-pong on

　　the deck， two fingers flat on his spade.

　　I saw his photo： a big-bellied dick

　　in a tailor-made sailor suit.

　　"Bye-Bye!" he waved， and out I

　　sprang， strong enough

　　to shove all the drawers shut.

　　My teeth took root. White

　　stalagmites， their stems sunk inward

　　and rotted. Biting strawberries，

　　they sheared unripe heads from

　　luscious tips.

　　The leaves caused a rash.

　　My mouth's toes， St. Theresa，

　　grind with your hips

　　when you close your eyes. Sex is

　　sacred， you say.

　　Leaving me， to prove it.