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英文版詩歌

時間: 韋彥867 分享

英文版詩歌

  詩歌作為經(jīng)典的藝術(shù)形式一直伴隨著人類文明的發(fā)展,無論是對自然美景的贊美,還是對人類善良、積極的人生態(tài)度的贊美,我們都可以找到相應的國外內(nèi)的詩歌題材。下面是學習啦小編帶來的經(jīng)典英語版詩歌,歡迎閱讀!

  經(jīng)典英語版詩歌篇一

  愛如清晨的陽光

  Love Like Morning Sun

  So often, when I'm alone with my thoughts,

  I feel your presence enter me

  like the morning sun's early light,

  filling my memories and dreams of us

  with a warm and clear radiance.

  You have become my love, my life,

  and together we have shaped our world

  until it seems now as natural as breathing.

  But I remember when it wasn't always so

  times when peace and happiness seemed more

  like intruders in my life than

  the familiar companions they are today;

  times when we struggled to know each other,

  but always smoothing out those rough spots

  until we came to share ourselves completely.

  We can never rid our lives entirely

  of sadness and difficult times

  but we

  can understand them together, and grow

  stronger as individuals and as a loving couple.

  If I don't tell you as often as I'd like,

  it's because I could never tell you enough

  that I'm grateful for you

  sharing your life with mine,

  and that my love for you will live forever.

  by Edmund O'Neil

  經(jīng)典英語版詩歌篇二

  The petals fall in the fountain

  These fought in any case,

  and some believing

  pro domo, in any case .....

  Died some, pro patria,

  walked eye-deep in hell

  believing in old men's lies, then unbelieving

  came home, home to a lie,

  home to many deceits,

  home to old lies and new infamy;

  usury age-old and age-thick

  and liars in public places.

  Daring as never before, wastage as never before.

  Young blood and high blood,

  fair cheeks, and fine bodies;

  fortitude as never before

  frankness as never before,

  disillusions as never told in the old days,

  hysterias, trench confessions,

  laughter out of dead bellies.

  經(jīng)典英語版詩歌篇三

  Ezra Pound - Villanelle: The Psychological Hour

  I had over prepared the event,

  that much was ominous.

  With middle-ageing care

  I had laid out just the right books.

  I had almost turned down the pages.

  Beauty is so rare a thing.

  So few drink of my fountain.

  So much barren regret,

  So many hours wasted!

  And now I watch, from the window,

  the rain, the wandering busses.

  "Their little cosmos is shaken" -

  the air is alive with that fact.

  In their parts of the city

  they are played on by diverse forces.

  How do I know?

  Oh, I know well enough.

  For them there is something afoot.

  As for me;

  I had over-prepared the event -

  Beauty is so rare a thing.

  So few drink of my fountain.

  Two friends: a breath of the forest. . .

  Friends? Are people less friends

  because one has just, at last, found them?

  Twice they promised to come.

  "Between the night and the morning?"

  Beauty would drink of my mind.

  Youth would awhile forget

  my youth is gone from me.

  (Speak up! You have danced so stiffly?

  Someone admired your works,

  And said so frankly.

  "Did you talk like a fool,

  The first night?

  The second evening?"

  "But they promised again:

  To-morrow at tea-time."

  Now the third day is here -

  no word from either;

  No word from her nor him,

  Only another man's note:

  "Dear Pound, I am leaving England."

  
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