經(jīng)典英語(yǔ)詩(shī)歌朗誦稿大全
經(jīng)典英語(yǔ)詩(shī)歌朗誦稿大全
詩(shī)歌是語(yǔ)言高度精煉的體現(xiàn),詩(shī)是文學(xué)的最高形式之一,因此在日常教學(xué)中,每一位教育工作者都喜歡引導(dǎo)學(xué)生用本民族語(yǔ)言閱讀和欣賞詩(shī)歌。學(xué)習(xí)啦小編分享經(jīng)典英語(yǔ)詩(shī)歌朗誦稿，希望可以幫助大家!
經(jīng)典英語(yǔ)詩(shī)歌朗誦稿：Spéculation Hasardeuse
Arthur Vogelsang
No one was learning French fast.
I was learning French too slowly and
Some were learning at an average speed.
We had to learn it fast. There was a great plane
Coming for us and we had to know French
When we got on it or else.
Later we found out there was no or else.
We boarded the plane knowing an amount of French.
Enough that the others covered for me.
That was easy, I never spoke French,
I never spoke. Far up over Earth and France
Where we floated which of course was fun
In the great plane, in the great swift plane as I have said,
That high, the French spoke to us in French,
Numbers, "millième des soixante," and other manifold numbers
For hours -- division and multiplication are the hairiest,
The epitome of difficult, for a non-native speaker.
According to my character I did something else,
No counting, no speaking French. I was there
To float and study and be studied and do unmentionables
So I forgot about learning French fast and I forgot about
Their or else, I said to myself I think I am their or else.
I was not. In such a risky venture or spéculation hasardeuse
I think it was decided to include somebody not fast and not smart
Like a slow horse that keeps a posse at its safe pace, unambushed.
The endless arguments about this had been in French and English,
Back and forth endlessly they had gone at it,
So we began by trying to learn French fast.
經(jīng)典英語(yǔ)詩(shī)歌朗誦稿：Down Unwin's Track
Alison Brackenbury
And the rain stopped. And the sky spun
past the hills' flush of winter corn.
The mare strode out as though still young.
You walked. I almost said, last year
I saw a hare run with her young
just past the broken wall, just here.
Two flew in circles. First, one rose
upon its great back legs. It boxed
at air. The second flinched, then rose.
England has blackbirds, mice. To find
these strong black shapes makes the heart race
as barley under icy wind.
Boxing is courtship, failed. One broke,
tore past us to the rough safe hedge.
She crossed the sun. Her colours woke,
ears black, back russet, earth new-laid.
Her legs stretched straight. The late showers made
bright water fly from every blade.
經(jīng)典英語(yǔ)詩(shī)歌朗誦稿：Memorial
Dave Smith
Today on the 17th fairway I stepped over
the gutted, dried out corpse,
not quite the length of my arm once,
now more papery shell than any
fish, and yet moccasin still.
The triangular head had been halved,
a six-iron maybe, swung without thought.
Twisting tongue gone into this grass
making for the pond maybe,
that was gone too, the way words go
when we open our mouth
and try to remember what we have done.
So little of it all really matters.
Sunlight poured down its free admiration,
a scale here and there gleamed
as if a nerve had been touched again,
so we stood off even as we bent our backs
to understand more. You know, don't
you, our brains were saying, they will bite
you even when they are dead? But
look how there was an eye, a beauty.
Braided and subtle was what covered
this rippling, this surge to go over
to the side it couldn't see,
turning as the planet does, slow, sure.
Instant by instant it must have
blinked, tasted, filled itself with knowing
it would have to kill some things
to get where the future would be better.
Sometimes it would lie in the grass,
rain falling with its voice of approval,
but always the thump and rumble.
Until the dark, and then endless sun
its body would hold like a scaled straw.
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