關於優美的英文詩句閱讀

　　英語詩歌是一個包含豐富社會生活內容、語言藝術和文化內涵的世界,是基礎英語教學的一塊很有潛力的教學資源。小編整理了關於優美的英文詩句，歡迎閱讀!

　　關於優美的英文詩句篇一

　　Mother Doesn't Want a Dog

　　by Judith Viorst

　　Mother doesn't want a dog.

　　Mother says they smell，

　　And never sit when you say sit，

　　Or even when you yell.

　　And when you come home late at night

　　And there is ice and snow，

　　You have to go back out because

　　The dumb dog has to go.

　　Mother doesn't want a dog.

　　Mother says they shed，

　　And always let the strangers in

　　And bark at friends instead，

　　And do disgraceful things on rugs，

　　And track mud on the floor，

　　And flop upon your bed at night

　　And snore their doggy snore.

　　Mother doesn't want a dog.

　　She's making a mistake.

　　Because， more than a dog， I think

　　She will not want this snake

　　關於優美的英文詩句篇二

　　Mr. Grumpledump's Song

　　by Shel Silverstein

　　Everything's wrong，

　　Days are too long，

　　Sunshine's too hot，

　　Wind is too strong.

　　Clouds are too fluffy，

　　Grass is too green，

　　Ground is too dusty，

　　Sheets are too clean.

　　Stars are too twinkly，

　　Moon is too high，

　　Water's too drippy，

　　Sand is too dry.

　　Rocks are too heavy，

　　Feathers too light，

　　Kids are too noisy，

　　Shoes are too tight.

　　Folks are too happy，

　　Singin' their songs.

　　Why can't they see it?

　　Everything's wrong!

　　關於優美的英文詩句篇三

　　Mound Digger

　　by Sarah Lindsay

　　This mound of dirt and the summer are heirs to transfer

　　from what lies before and what lies behind，

　　pinch by pinch. Of the mound， she keeps a record.

　　The point， the students have been assured，

　　is not to find objects. Their object is

　　to understand the ground.

　　What water did with it， when.

　　how often earthworms combed and cast it.

　　Whether it was tilled or thrust aside，

　　which seeds lay in it， which pollens settled.

　　When it's too dark to dig， she makes a tent

　　of reading assignments. A chapter on similarities

　　between spear points unearthed in Virginia

　　and Soultrean points in Spain，

　　both kinds wrought as though for beauty

　　and cached in heaps of red ocher. Another book

　　invites her to peer at the keyhole shape of a bone

　　the size of her index finger， engraved

　　these ten thousand years with forty strokes——

　　fourteen， eight， eleven， then seven——and polished.

　　A tally， a game， the score?

　　We'll never know. And here's a review

　　of arguments about a broken rock

　　that might have been bashed into useful shape

　　deliberately， with another rock，

　　by some original axe-making biped，

　　or might be a geofact， a tease，

　　a found axe——or no tool at all.

　　She douses the light

　　and all the words disappear.

　　Morning， back to the mound. It's two mounds now;

　　she knows it halfway through， its wayward layers，

　　silky and barren or matted with nutrients，

　　heavy clay， a thousand shades of brown.

　　She sees it with her eyes shut， with her palms，

　　sometimes tastes it. Leaves the flints and bones

　　to thrill-seekers and visionaries.

　　Dirt answers her questions. She has dug past

　　any props or plots or characters

　　to the stuff all stories walk on

　　關於優美的英文詩句篇四

　　Muse

　　by Meena Alexander

　　I was young when you came to me.

　　Each thing rings its turn，

　　you sang in my ear， a slip of a thing

　　dressed like a convent girl

　　white socks， shoes，

　　dark blue pinafore， white blouse.

　　A pencil box in hand： girl， book， tree

　　those were the words you gave me.

　　Girl was penne， hair drawn back，

　　gleaming on the scalp，

　　the self in a mirror in a rosewood room

　　the sky at monsoon time， pearl slits

　　In cloud cover， a jagged music pours：

　　gash of sense， raw covenant

　　clasped still in a gold bound book，

　　pusthakam pages parted，

　　ink rubbed with mist，

　　a bird might have dreamt its shadow there

　　spreading fire in a tree maram.

　　You murmured the word， sliding it on your tongue，

　　trying to get how a girl could turn

　　into a molten thing and not burn.

　　Centuries later worn out from travel

　　I rest under a tree.

　　You come to me

　　a bird shedding gold feathers，

　　each one a quill scraping my tympanum.

　　You set a book to my ribs.

　　Night after night I unclasp it

　　at the mirror's edge

　　alphabets flicker and soar.

　　Write in the light

　　of all the languages

　　you know the earth contains，

　　you murmur in my ear.

　　This is pure transport

　　關於優美的英文詩句篇五

　　Muse, a Lady Cautioning

　　by Honorée Fanonne Jeffers

　　There's fairness in changing blood for septet's

　　guardian rhythm， the horn blossoming

　　into cadenza. No good pimp's scowl， his

　　baby's voice ruined sweet for the duration.

　　Yes， these predictable fifths. O， the blues

　　is all about slinging those low tales out

　　the back door ***sing： child pried open on that

　　stained floor***。 O， Billie hollers way down dirt

　　roads ***sing： woman on the verge of needled

　　logic***。 She's aware——yeah， I'm going to

　　kiss some man's sugared fist tonight. O， this

　　tableau's muse， a Lady cautioning me：

　　Just tough this thing out， girl. Sweat through the jones.

　　Don't ask for nothing. Spit your last damned note