【关于最经典的英文诗朗诵】 经典英文诗歌朗诵.docx

本文格式为Word版，下载可任意编辑【关于最经典的英文诗朗诵】 经典英文诗歌朗诵 　　英语诗歌是一个包含丰富.生活内容、语言艺术和文化内涵的世界,是基础英语教学的一块很有潜力的教学资源我整理了关于最经典的英文诗，欢迎阅读! 　　关于最经典的英文诗篇一 　　Love is More Thicker than Forget 　　by E. E. Cummings 　　Love is more thicker than forget 　　More thinner than recall 　　More seldom than a wave is wet 　　More frequent than to fail 　　It is most mad and moonly 　　And less it shall unbe 　　Than all the sea which only 　　Is deeper than the sea 　　Love is Iess always than to win 　　Less never than alive 　　Less bigger than the least begin 　　Less littler than forgive 　　It is most sane and sunly 　　And more it cannot die 　　Than all the sky which only 　　Is higher than the sky 　　爱情比忘却更深厚 　　爱情比忘却厚 　　比回忆薄 　　比潮湿的波浪少 　　比失败多 　　它最痴癫最疯狂 　　但比起全部 　　比海洋更深的海洋 　　它更为长期 　　爱情总比成功少见 　　却比活着多些 　　不大于无法开头 　　不小于谅解 　　它最明朗最糊涂 　　而比起全部 　　比天空更高的天空 　　它更为不朽 　　关于最经典的英文诗篇二 　　Skunk Hour 　　By Robert Lowell 　　(For Elizabeth Bishop) 　　Nautilus Islands hermit 　　heiress still lives through winter in her Spartan cottage; 　　her sheep still graze above the sea. 　　Her sons a bishop. Her farmer 　　is first selectman in our village; 　　shes in her dotage. 　　Thirsting for 　　the hierarchie privacy 　　of Queen Victorias century, 　　she buys up all 　　the eyesores facing her shore, 　　and lets them fall. 　　The seasons ill-- 　　weve lost our summer millionaire, 　　who seemed to leap from an L. L. Bean 　　catalogue. His nine-knot yawl 　　was auctioned off to lobstermen. 　　A red fox stain covers Blue Hill. 　　And now our fairy 　　decorator brightens his shop for fall; 　　his fishnets filled with orange cork, 　　orange, his cobblers bench and awl; 　　there is no money in his work, 　　hed rather marry. 　　One dark night, 　　my Tudor Ford climbed the hills skull; 　　I watched for love-cars. Lights turned down, 　　they lay together, hull to hull, 　　where the graveyard shelves on the town. . . . 　　My minds not right. 　　A car radio bleats, 　　Love, O careless Love. . . . I hear 　　my ill-spirit sob in each blood cell, 　　as if my hand were at its throat. . . . 　　I myself am hell; 　　nobodys here-- 　　only skunks, that search 　　in the moonlight for a bite to eat. 　　They march on their soles up Main Street: 　　white stripes, moonstruck eyes red fire 　　under the chalk-dry and spar spire 　　of the Trinitarian Church. 　　I stand on top 　　of our back steps and breathe the rich air-- 　　a mother skunk with her column of kittens swills the garbage pail. 　　She jabs her wedge-head in a cup 　　of sour cream, drops her ostrich tail, 　　and will not scare. 　　臭鼬的时间 　　为伊丽莎白毕肖普而作 　　鹦鹉螺岛的隐士 　　女继承人整个冬天仍住在她的斯巴达式小屋; 　　她的羊群仍在海的北面啃食牧草。

　　她的儿子是主教我们村里的第一任村长 　　是她的农场主; 　　她已年老糊涂 　　渴望 　　维多利亚女王时 　　那种等级森严的清静闲适 　　她买下了全部 　　对岸看不顺眼的地方， 　　任其荒芜 　　这季节令人厌烦 　　我们失去了夏天的百万富翁， 　　他仿佛是从一个廉价货目单上突然跳出 　　他那速度可达九节的快艇 　　拍卖给了一个捕虾的人 　　红褐色斑点布满蓝山 　　如今我们那仙子般的装饰家 　　为秋天他把古玩店扮靓; 　　他的渔网挂满橘黄色的浮子， 　　鞋匠的凳子和锥子也漆成橘黄; 　　他干活却挣不了工资， 　　他不如去成家 　　一个漆黑的夜晚， 　　我的都铎式福特车爬上山头; 　　我留意着爱情车灯暗了下来， 　　他们停靠在一起，头挨着头， 　　像废旧汽车垃圾场在市镇边层层布排. 　　我的神志担心 　　一辆车中的收音机在咩叫， 　　"爱情，啊，轻率的爱情.'我听到 　　我那染病的魂灵在每个血细胞中哽咽无语 　　仿佛我的手卡住了心灵的咽喉 　　我自已就是地狱; 　　无人在这里 　　只有臭鼬，在月光下面 　　寻找一口食物充饥。

　　他们独拘束大街上行进整齐： 　　白条纹，迷离的眼神冒着酷热的光 　　在三一教堂 　　那冷冰冰的白垩色圆柱形的尖顶下面 　　我站在我家后门台阶的顶端 　　吸入浓烈的空气 　　一只母鼬带着一群小臭鼬贪欲地在垃圾桶里吸食， 　　她把楔形脑袋插进一个酸乳酪杯子里面， 　　垂下她鸵鸟似的尾巴， 　　什么也不怕 　　关于最经典的英文诗篇三 　　After Apple-Picking 　　Robert Frost (1874-1963) 　　My long two-pointed ladders sticking through a tree 　　Toward heaven still, 　　And theres a barrel that I didnt fill 　　Beside it, and there may be two or three 　　Apples I didnt pick upon some bough. 　　But I am done with apple-picking now. 　　Essence of winter sleep is on the night, 　　The scent of apples: I am drowsing off. 　　I cannot rub the strangeness from my sight 　　I got from looking through a pane of glass 　　I skimmed this morning from the drinking trough 　　And held against the world of hoary grass. 　　It melted, and I let it fall and break. 　　But I was well 　　Upon my way to sleep before it fell, 　　And I could tell 　　What form my dreaming was about to take. 　　Magnified apples appear and disappear, 　　Stem end and blossom end, 　　And every fleck of russet showing clear. 　　My instep arch not only keeps the ache, 　　It keeps the pressure of a ladder-round. 　　I feel the ladder sway as the boughs bend. 　　And I keep hearing from the cellar bin 　　The rumbling sound 　　Of load on load of apples coming in. 　　For I have had too much 　　Of apple-picking: I am overtired 　　Of the great harve。