關(guān)于簡短英語小詩歌朗誦
關(guān)于簡短英語小詩歌朗誦
英語詩歌是一個(gè)包含豐富社會生活內(nèi)容、語言藝術(shù)和文化內(nèi)涵的世界,是基礎(chǔ)英語教學(xué)的一塊很有潛力的教學(xué)資源。小編精心收集了關(guān)于簡短英語小詩歌，供大家欣賞學(xué)習(xí)!
關(guān)于簡短英語小詩歌篇1
蘇軾 《洞仙歌》
江南臘盡，
早梅花開后。
分付新春與垂柳。
細(xì)腰肢、
自有入格風(fēng)流。
仍更是、
骨體清英雅秀。
永豐坊那畔，
盡日無人，
誰見金絲弄晴晝?
斷腸是飛絮時(shí)，
綠葉成陰，
無箇事、一成消瘦。
又莫是東風(fēng)逐君來，
便吹散眉間，一點(diǎn)春皺。
Song of a Fairy in the Cave
Su Shi
By the end of the year on the Southern shore
When early mume blossoms disappear,
The newcome spring dwells on the weeping willow tree,
Its slender waist reveals a personality free,
And what is more,
Its trunk appears more elegant and free.
Along the way
There is no sight-seer all the day.
Who'd come to see your golden thread in sunlight sway?
Your heart would break to see catkins fly,
Your green leaves make a shade of deep dye.
Having nothing to do,
You would grow thinner, too.
If you come again with vernal breeze now,
It would dispel the vernal grief on your brow.
關(guān)于簡短英語小詩歌篇2
杜甫 《登岳陽樓》
昔聞洞庭水，今上岳陽樓。
吳楚東南坼，乾坤日夜浮。
親朋無一字，老病有孤舟。
戎馬關(guān)山北，憑軒涕泗流。
Climbing Yueyang Tower
Du Fu
Long ago I heard of Lake Dongting,
now I climb Yueyang Tower:
Wu and Chu slope off to south and east,
Heaven and Earth day and night float on these waters.
Of kinfolk, friends, not one word,
old, sickly, in my solitary boat,
and north of the barrier mountains the fighting
goes on—
as I lean on the railing, tears stream down.
關(guān)于簡短英語小詩歌篇3
杜甫 《登高》
風(fēng)急天高猿嘯哀，渚清沙白鳥飛回。
無邊落木蕭蕭下，不盡長江滾滾來。
萬里悲秋常作客，百年多病獨(dú)登臺。
艱難苦恨繁霜鬢，潦倒新停濁酒杯。
On the Height
Du Fu
The wind so swift, the sky so wide, apes wail and cry;
Water so clear and beach so white, birds wheel and fly.
The boundless forest sheds its leaves shower by shower;
The endless river rolls its waves hour after hour,
A thousand miles from home, I’m grieved at autumn’s plight;
Ill now and then for years, alone I’m on this height,
Living in times so hard, at frosted hair I pine;
Cast down by poverty, I have to give up wine.
關(guān)于簡短英語小詩歌篇4
杜甫 《詠懷古跡》
群山萬壑赴荊門，
生長明妃尚有村。
一去紫臺連朔漠，
獨(dú)留青冢向黃昏。
畫圖省識春風(fēng)面，
環(huán)珮空歸月夜魂。
千載琵琶作胡語，
分明怨恨曲中論。
Thoughts on a Historic Site
All mountains rise and fall till they reach Thatched Gate,
‘Tis the home village where was born the Lady Bright.
She left the palace for the desert desolate,
Her lonely tomb still green is left to face twilight.
No picture could portray her face as fair as spring’s
In vain her roving soul returned beneath the moon.
The pipa’s sighed for ages on Tartarian strings,
We can discern her bitter grief in its sad tune.
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