關於花的英文美文欣賞

　　女性對於花有一種天然的情愫，花對於女性藝術家更是有著特別的意義，她們對花情有獨鍾，用自己獨特的藝術語言構建了一個“花的世界”，在她們的這個世界中，花被賦予了豐富的精神內涵。下面是小編帶來的，歡迎閱讀!

　　篇一

　　花之歌

　　I am a kind word uttered and repeated

　　By the voice of Nature;

　　I am a star fallen from the

　　Blue tent upon the green carpet.

　　I am the daughter of the elements

　　With whom Winter conceived;

　　To whom Spring gave birth; I was

　　Reared in the lap of Summer and I

　　Slept in the bed of Autumn.

　　我是大自然親切的話語，

　　說出去，又反覆細念;

　　我是一顆星星，

　　從藍色蒼穹墜落綠毯之中。

　　我是諸元素之女：

　　冬天將我孕育;

　　春天使我綻放;

　　夏天讓我成長;

　　秋天令我安睡。

　　At dawn I unite with the breeze

　　To announce the coming of light;

　　At eventide I join the birds

　　In bidding the light farewell.

　　清早，我同晨風一道

　　宣告光明的到來;

　　傍晚，我又與群鳥一起

　　為它的遠去告別。

　　The plains are decorated with

　　My beautiful color and the air

　　Is scented with my fragrance.

　　我在原野上搖曳，

　　使風光更加旖旎;

　　我在清風中呼吸，

　　使氣息芬芳馥郁。

　　As I embrace Slumber the eyes of

　　Night watch over me, and as I

　　Awaken I stare at the sun, which is

　　The only eye of the day.

　　我微睡時，

　　夜空數雙眼睛對我凝望;

　　我醒來時，

　　白晝的獨眸向我注視。

　　I drink dew for wine, and hearken to

　　The voices of the bird and dance

　　To the rhythmic swaying of the grass.

　　我飲著朝露釀成的瓊漿;

　　聽著小鳥的鳴囀歌唱;

　　就著芳草的搖曳婆娑起舞。

　　I am the lover's gift; I am the wedding wreath;

　　I am the memory of a moment of happiness;

　　I am the last gift of the living to the dead;

　　I am a part of joy and a part of sorrow.

　　我是愛人間的贈禮;我是婚禮的冠冕;

　　我是片刻歡愉的記憶;

　　我是生者予死者最後的祭獻;

　　我是一半歡樂，一半憂傷。

　　But I look up high to see only the light,

　　And never look down to see my shadow.

　　This is wisdom which man must learn.

　　而我仰望高空，只因對光明神往;

　　我從不顧影自憐，也不孤芳自賞。

　　而這些智慧，人類尚未得以領會。

　　篇二

　　大自然在說話Nature Is Speaking

　　I am a flower.

　　我是花。

　　Yes, I'm beautiful. I've heard it before and it never grows old.

　　是的，我很美。人們常這麼說，而且從來不會變老。

　　I'm worshiped for my looks, my scent, my looks.

　　人們崇拜我的長相，我的氣味，我的容貌。

　　But here's the thing. Life starts with me.

　　但是事情是這樣的，生活由我而起。

　　You see I feed people. Every fruit comes from me.

　　你看，我在哺育人類。每個水果來自於我。

　　Every potato. Me.

　　每個土豆，來自於我。

　　Every kernel of corn. Me. Every grain of rice. Me.

　　每粒玉米，來自於我。每顆麥子也來自於我。

　　Me, me, me, I know. But it's true.

　　我，我，我，我知道，但這是真的。

　　And sometimes I feed their souls.

　　有時人類的心靈也會需要我。

　　I am their words when they have none.

　　當你無法表達時候，我可以幫你說出。

　　I say “I love you,” without a sound. “I'm sorry,” without a voice.

　　我說“我愛你”不帶一個聲響。“我很抱歉，”沒有一個聲音。

　　I inspire the greatest of them.

　　我是啟發偉人的源泉。

　　Painters, poets, pattern makers. I've been a muse to them all.

　　畫家，詩人，模型師。我一直是他們的繆斯。

　　But in my experience, people underestimate the power of a pretty little flower.

　　但以我的經驗，人們低估了一朵漂亮小花的力量。

　　Because their life does start with me and it could end without me.

　　因為他們的生活確實由我而起，也可以由我而終。

　　篇三

　　公車上的鮮花

　　33年的前的那個夏季，每天我們混跡在各色人中等待公車的到來。一大清早我們就從郊區開始坐車，我們把衣領高豎到耳朵上，懶洋洋的坐在那，一群沉悶的，沒有言語的人。

　　We were a very motley crowd of people who took the bus every day that summer 33 years ago. During the early morning ride from the suburb, we sat drowsily with our collars up to our ears, a cheerless and taciturn bunch.

　　其中的一個乘客是個無名小卒，他每天乘車前往老年人中心。他行走時駝著背，表情悲傷。當他艱難地上了公車，獨自做到駕駛員身後的座位上時，很少有人過多的注意到他。

　　One of the passengers was a small grey man who took the bus to the centre for senior citizens every morning. He walked with a stoop and a sad look on his face when he, with some difficulty, boarded the bus and sat down alone behind the driver. No one ever paid very much attention to him.

　　然而七月的一個早晨，他向駕駛員問好並且在他坐下來之前微笑著環視了一下公車裡的乘客。司機禮貌的點點頭，我們依然沉默的坐著，沒有反應。

　　Then one July morning he said good morning to the driver and smiled short-sightedly down through the bus before he sat down. The driver nodded guardedly. The rest of us were silent.

　　第二天，那個老人精力充沛的上了公車，微笑著大聲的說：“各位早上好啊!”一些人慢慢的抬起頭覺得很奇怪，有些人嘀咕著小聲迴應著：“早上好!”

　　The next day, the old man boarded the bus energetically, smiled and said in a loud voice: "And a very good morning to you all!" Some of us looked up, amazed, and murmured "Good morning," in reply.

　　接下來的幾周我們更震驚了。我們的朋友現在穿著體面的一箇舊外套和一個過時的寬領帶。稀疏的頭髮也是精心梳理的。他每天向我們問好，我們也逐漸的互相點頭致意，相互交談起來了。

　　The following weeks we were more alert. Our friend was now dressed in a nice old suit and a wide out-of-date tie. The thin hair had been carefully combed. He said good morning to us every day and we gradually began to nod and talk to each other.

　　一天早晨他手裡拿著一束野花。因為炎熱，他們都抓著吊環站著。司機轉過頭來笑著問道：“查理，你有女朋友了嗎?”我們從來也不知道他的真名是不是叫查理，但是他害羞的點點頭說：“是的。”

　　One morning he had a bunch of wild flowers in his hand. They were already dangling a little because of the heat. The driver turned around smilingly and asked: "Have you got yourself a girlfriend, Charlie?" We never got to know if his name really was "Charlie", but he nodded shyly and said yes.

　　其他的乘客興奮的吹著口哨，拍打著他。查理鞠躬以示感謝，他揮舞著鮮花坐到了他的位子上。

　　The other passengers whistled and clapped at him. Charlie bowed and waved the flowers before he sat down on his seat.

　　從那天早晨以後，查理總是帶著一束花。常乘這趟車的一些人也開始帶些花給老人，讓他的花束更豔麗，他們紳士的推著老人，羞赧的說：“給你”。每個人都面帶笑容。人們開始拿這事開玩笑，互相嘮著並分享自己的報紙。

　　Every morning after that Charlie always brought a flower. Some of the regular passengers began bringing him flowers for his bouquet, gently nudged him and said shyly: "Here." Everyone smiled. The men started to jest about it, talk to each other, and share the newspaper.

　　夏去秋來，當有一天清晨查理沒有在他通常的站點等候。當第二天和以後的日子裡查理都沒有出現的時候，我們禁不住去想：他是不是病了或者我們更希望他在某個地方度假呢。

　　The summer went by, and autumn was closing in, when one morning Charlie wasn't waiting at his usual stop. When he wasn't there the next day and the day after that, we started wondering if he was sick or -- hopefully -- on holiday somewhere.

　　當我們來到老年人中心附近的時候，一個乘客讓司機停下來等一下。當她走向門口的時候我們都摒住了呼吸。

　　When we came nearer to the centre for senior citizens, one of the passengers asked the driver to wait. We all held our breaths when she went to the door.

　　老年中心的職員告訴我們說他知道我們說的人是誰。那個老紳士是個好人，但那周他一直沒有來過。他的一個很親密的朋友在週末的時候去世了。他們期待著他週一會來。接下來的路上我們是如此的沉靜。

　　Yes, the staff said, they knew who we were talking about. The elderly gentleman was fine, but he hadn't been coming to the centre that week. One of his very close friends had died at the weekend. They expected him back on Monday. How silent we were the rest of the way to work.

　　下週一的時候，查理等候在站點上，背看上去更加的駝了，臉色灰暗，也沒有戴領帶。他看上去一下子又縮小回去了。公車上一下子跟教堂似的靜悄悄的。我們儘管沒有人談論他，那個夏天他給我們的記憶卻揮之不去。我們手拿鮮花，眼含淚水坐在公車上。

　　The next Monday Charlie was waiting at the stop, stooping a bit more, a little bit more grey, and without a tie. He seemed to have shrinked again. Inside the bus was a silence akin to that in a church. Even though no one had talked about it, all those of us, who he had made such an impression on that summer, sat with our eyes filled with tears and a bunch of wild flowers in our hands.