以下是小编帮大家整理的英语诗歌欣赏：独自去散步（共含9篇），仅供参考，大家一起来看看吧。同时，但愿您也能像本文投稿人“Joe”一样，积极向本站投稿分享好文章。
英语诗歌欣赏：独自去散步
I took a walk today
and left myself alone.
I didn't ask myself to slow down
or demand that I pick up the pace.
I wandered off course
and drifted slowly back
repeatedly.
今日独自去散步
不紧不慢
不断辗转徘徊
Didn't tell myself what to look for
but I saw things.
Didn't tell myself what to listen for
but I heard things.
Didn't tell myself what to feel
but I felt things.
没有刻意找寻却看见
没有刻意聆听却听见
没有刻意感受却感觉到了
In the course of five miles,
I meditated,
I grieved,
I healed.
在五英里的'路途中
冥像
悲恸
治愈
I never took my pulse,
have no record of my heart rate,
but I could feel it gently beating
and at times I thought I felt
the world's beat just the same.
没有测量脉搏
没有记录心率
但我
却分明感觉到了
心和世界的
一齐脉动.
转过身来，就会很近，
可，转过身去，就会很远，
甚至花上一生，
围绕地球转一个圈，
一生的容颜都花尽，
还是不会相聚。
不是同一个目的，
动听的音籁也不觉婉转。
/
羽翼轻盈地
看透未来的差距，
一个不知踪迹，
还有一个哭泣，
或许一时的欢乐，
让评判低估你的情感。
即使转过身去的决定，
让你伤痛了整个身心。
/
转过身去，差距就在这里，
不是一路的风景，
定然是迥异的心情。
几叠伤感的照片，
炫耀过去的神气。
那个人不是你，
那个人不是我，
倘若你我都不必如此绝情。
/
是我低估了你，
还是你高估了我，
文字里坦露的都是真实的自己。
流言的尖针刺向心灵，
还用感念的诗句描述柔情，
书写我，
褒扬你，
故事的好坏总要人听。
/
街道的.拥堵，
挤瘦了强壮的双臂。
乘上电梯的眼睛，
都在观看楼下的风景。
而一段感情，分手的原因不清，
分别总是在车笛的喧嚣声里。
/
离开这个地方的列车将所有都背叛，
列车的座位很拥挤，
面无表情的人影只有小孩在哭泣。
低下头去，
掏出手机，
将所有的记录都删除，还有短信
那字字饱含的深情。
/
有了崭新的开始，
便有理由忘记腐朽的过去，
不是薄情，不应在责备中，
将人世的苦衷都淡忘。
不再顾虑人世不屑与冷漠的表情。
开始，只是你，
而结局，也只有你，
收拾着人世撕下的一页一页日历。
诗歌欣赏：Batuschka
From yonder gilded minaret
Beside the steel－blue Neva set，
I faintly catch， from time to time，
The sweet， aerial midnight chime——
“God save the Tsar！”
Above the ravelins and the moats
Of the white citadel it floats；
And men in dungeons far beneath
Listen， and pray， and gnash their teeth——
“God save the Tsar！”
The soft reiterations sweep
Across the horror of their sleep，
a term of endearment applied
to the Tsar in Russian folk－song．
As if some daemon in his glee
Were mocking at their misery——
“God save the Tsar！”
In his Red Palace over there，
Wakeful， he needs must hear the prayer．
How can it drown the broken cries
Wrung from his children's agonies?——
“God save the Tsar！”
Father they called him from of old——
Batuschka！ ． ． ． How his heart is cold！
Wait till a million scourged men
Rise in their awful might， and then——
God save the Tsar！
Camma
（To Ellen Terry）
As one who poring on a Grecian urn
Scans the fair shapes some Attic hand hath made，
God with slim goddess， goodly man with maid，
And for their beauty's sake is loth to turn
And face the obvious day， must I not yearn
For many a secret moon of indolent bliss，
When in midmost shrine of Artemis
I see thee standing， antique－limbed， and stern?
And yet － methinks I'd rather see thee play
That serpent of old Nile， whose witchery
Made Emperors drunken， － come， great Egypt， shake
Our stage with all thy mimic pageants！ Nay，
I am grown sick of unreal passions， make
The world thine Actium， me thine Anthony！
诗歌欣赏：A Prayer for My Son
Bid a strong ghost stand at the head
That my Michael may sleep sound，
Nor cry， nor turn in the bed
Till his morning meal come round；
And may departing twilight keep
All dread afar till morning‘s back，
That his mother may not lack
Her fill of sleep．
Bid the ghost have sword in fist：
Some there are， for I avow
Such devilish things exist，
Who have planned his murder， for they know
Of some most haughty deed or thought
That waits upon his future days，
And would through hatred of the bays
Bring that to nought．
Though You can fashion everything
From nothing every day， and teach
The morning stars to sing，
You have lacked articulate speech
To tell Your simplest want， and known，
Wailing upon a woman‘s knee，
All of that worst ignominy
Of flesh and bone；
And when through all the town there ran
The servants of Your enemy，
A woman and a man，
Unless the Holy Writings lie，
Hurried through the smooth and rough
And through the fertile and waste，
Protecting， till the danger past，
With human love．
A Path Between Houses
Where is the dwelling place of light?
And where is the house of darkness?
Go about； walk the limits of the land．
Do you know a path between them?
The enigma of August．
Season of dust and teenage arson．
The nightly whine of pickup trucks
bouncing through the sumac
beneath the Co－Operative power lines，
country & western booming from woofers
carved into the doors． A trace of smoke
when the wins shifts，
spun gravel rattling the fenders of cars，
the groan of clutch and transaxle，
pickup trucks， arriving at a friction point，
gunning from nowhere to nowhere．
The duets begin． A compact disc，
a single line of muted trumpet，
plays against the sirens
pursuing the smoke of grass fires．
I love a painter． On a new canvas，
she paints the neighbor's field．
She paints it without trees，
and paints the field beyond the field，
the field that has no trees，
and the upturned Jesus boat，
made into a planter，
“For God so loved the world． ． ．”
a citation from John， chapter and verse，
splattered across the bow
the boat spills roses into the weeds．
What does the stray dog know，
after a taste of what is holy?
The sun pulls her shadow toward me，
an undulant shape that shelters the grass，
an unaimed thing．
In the gray house， the tiny house，
in '52 there was a fire． The old woman，
drunk and smoking cigarettes， fell asleep．
The winter of the blizzard and her son
Not coming home from the Yalu．
There are times I still smell smoke．
There are days I know she set the fire
and why．
Last night， lightning to the south．
Here， nothing， though along the river
the wind upends a willow，
a gorgon of leaves and bottom－up clod
browning in the afternoon sun．
In the museum we dispute
the poet's epiphany call——
white light or more warmth?
And what is the Greek word for the flesh，
and the body apart from the spirit，
meaning even the body opposed to the spirit?
I do not know this word．
Dante claims there are pools of fire
in the middle regions of hell，
but the lowest circles are lakes of ice，
offering the hope our greatest sins
aren't the passions but indifference．
And the willow grew for years
With no real hold upon the ground．
How the accident occurred
and how the sky got dark：
Six miles from my house，
a drunk leaves the Holiday Inn
spins on 104 and smacks a utility pole．
The power line sparks
across the hood of his Ford
and illuminates the crazed spider web
of the windshield． His bloody tongue burns
with a slurry gospel． Around me，
the lights go down，
the way death is described
as armor crashing to the ground，
the soul having already departed
for another place． Was it his body I heard
leaning against the horn，
the body's final song， before the body
slumped sideways in the seat?
When I was a child，
I would wake at night
and imagine a field of asteroids， rolling
across the walls of my room．
In fact， I've seen them，
like the last herd of buffalo，
grazing against the background of fixed stars．
Plate 420 shows the asteroid 433 Eros，
the bright point of light， as it closes its approach
to light． I loose myself in Cygnus，
ancient kamikaze swan，
rising or diving to earth，
Draco， snarling at the polestar，
and Pegasus， stone horse of the gods，
ecstatic， looking one last time at home．
August and the enigma it is．
Days when I move in crabbed circles，
nights when I walk with Jesus through the fields．
What finally stands between us
and the world of flying things?
Mobbed by jays， the Cooper's hawk
drops the dead bird． It tumbles
beneath the cedar tree，
tiny acrobat of death，
a dead bird released
in a failed act of atonement．
A nest of wasps buzzing beneath the shingles，
flickers drilling the cottonwood，
jays， sparrows， the insistent wrens，
the language of birds， heads cocked，
staring the moon－eyed through the air．
Sedge， asters， and fleabane，
red tins of gasoline and glowing cigarettes，
the midnight voice of a fourteen－year－old girl
wailing the word “blue” from the pickup's open doors，
illuminated by the dome light，
the sulphurous rasp of another struck match，
and foxglove， goldenrod and chicory，
the dry flowers of late summer，
an exhaustion I no longer look at．
Time passes． The authorities
gather the wreckage， the whirr
of cicadas， and light dissembles the sky．
A wind shift， and the Cedar Creek fire
snaps the backfire line
and roars through the cemetery．
In the morning，
I walk a path between houses．
I cross to the water
and circle again， the redwings
forcing me back from the marsh．
Smoke rises from a fire
still smoldering along the power lines，
flaring and exhausting itself
in the shape of something lost．
Grass fires， fires through the scrub
of the clear－cut， fires in the pulpwood，
cemetery fires，
the powder of ash still untracked
beneath the enormous trees，
fires that explode the seed cones
on the pines， the smoke of set fires
and every good intention gone wrong，
scorching the monuments
above the graves of the dead．
诗歌欣赏：Bamboo Adobe
I sit along in the dark bamboo grove，
Playing the zither and whistling long．
In this deep wood no one would know
Only the bright moon comes to shine．
诗歌欣赏：Byzantium
The unpurged images of day recede；
The Emperor‘s drunken soldiery are abed；
Night resonance recedes， night－walkers‘ song
After great cathedral gong；
A starlit or a moonlit dome disdains
All that man is，
All mere complexities，
The fury and the mire of human veins．
Before me floats an image， man or shade，
Shade more than man， more image than a shade；
For Hades‘ bobbin bound in mummy－cloth
May unwind the winding path；
A mouth that has no moisture and no breath
Breathless mouths may summon；
I hail the superhuman；
I call it death－in－life and life－in－death．
Miracle， bird or golden handiwork，
More miracle than bird or handiwork，
Planted on the star－lit golden bough，
Can like the cocks of Hades crow，
Or， by the moon embittered， scorn aloud
In glory of changeless metal
Common bird or petal
And all complexities of mire or blood．
At midnight on the Emperor‘s pavement flit
Flames that no faggot feeds， nor steel has lit，
Nor storm disturbs， flames begotten of flame，
Where blood－begotten spirits come
And all complexities of fury leave，
Dying into a dance，
An agony of trance，
An agony of flame that cannot singe a sleeve．
Astraddle on the dolphin‘s mire and blood，
Spirit after spirit！ The smithies break the flood，
The golden smithies of the Emperor！
Marbles of the dancing floor
Break bitter furies of complexity，
Those images that yet
Fresh images beget，
That dolphin－torn， that gong－tormented sea．
英语诗歌精选欣赏
Day That I Have Loved
Tenderly， day that I have loved， I close your eyes，
And smooth your quiet brow， and fold your thin dead hands.
The grey veils of the half-light deepen； colour dies.
I bear you， a light burden， to the shrouded sands，
Where lies your waiting boat， by wreaths of the sea's making
Mist- garlanded， with all grey weeds of the water crowned.
There you'll be laid， past fear of sleep or hope of waking；
And over the unmoving sea， without a sound，
Faint hands will row you outward， out beyond our sight，
Us with stretched arms and empty eyes on the far-gleaming
And marble sand. . . .
Beyond the shifting cold twilight，
Further than laughter goes， or tears， further than dreaming，
There'll be no port， no dawn-lit islands！ But the drear
Waste darkening， and， at length， flame ultimate on the deep.
Oh， the last fire —— and you， unkissed， unfriended there！
Oh， the lone way's red ending， and we not there to weep！
（We found you pale and quiet， and strangely crowned with flowers，
Lovely and secret as a child. You came with us，
Came happily， hand in hand with the young dancing hours，
High on the downs at dawn！） Void now and tenebrous，
The grey sands curve before me. . . .
From the inland meadows，
Fragrant of June and clover， floats the dark， and fills
The hollow sea's dead face with little creeping shadows，
And the white silence brims the hollow of the hills.
Close in the nest is folded every weary wing，
Hushed all the joyful voices； and we， who held you dear，
Eastward we turn and homeward， alone， remembering . . .
Day that I loved， day that I loved， the Night is here！
英语诗歌经典欣赏
经典英语诗歌一
Translation of the Famous Greek War Song
希腊战歌
Sons of the Greeks, arise!
起来，希腊的儿男!
The glorious hour's gone forth,
光荣时刻已到来，
And, worthy of such ties,
要效法我们祖先，
Display who gave us birth.
不枉作英豪后代!
Sons of Greeks! let us go
起来，希腊的儿男!
In arms against the foe,
挥戈向敌人迎战，
Till their hated blood shall flow
让他们腥臭的血川
In a river past our feet.
像河水在脚下奔窜!
Then manfully despising
让我们傲然抗拒
The Turkish tyrant's yoke,
土耳其暴君的强权，
Let your country see you rising,
让祖国眼见她儿女
And all her chains are broke.
站起来，砸碎锁链!
Brave shades of chiefs and sages,
先王和先哲的英灵
Behold the coming strife!
来检阅这场决战!
Hellenes of past ages,
希腊的列祖列宗
Oh, start again to life!
听到号角的呼唤，
At the sound of my trumpet, breaking
快从坟墓中苏生，
Your sleep, oh, join with me!
参加我们的战斗!
And the seven-hill'd city seeking,
要攻克七山之城，
Fight, conquer, till we're free.
夺回我们的自由!
Sons of Greeks! let us go
起来，希腊的儿男!
In arms against the foe,
挥戈向敌人迎战，
Till their hated blood shall flow
让他们腥臭的血川
In a river past our feet.
像河水在脚下奔窜!
Sparta, Sparta, why in slumbers
醒来吧，斯巴达!今天
Lethargic dost thou lie?
你怎能高卧不起?
Awake, and join thy numbers
同你的老伙伴雅典
With Athens, old ally!
快联合起来抗敌!
Leonidas recalling,
历代讴歌的主君
That chief of ancient song,
列奥尼达斯唤回，
Who saved ye once from falling,
他曾拯救过你们，
The terrible! the strong!
何等刚强而可畏!
Who made that bold diversion
扼守在温泉险关，
In old Thermopylae,
他英勇牵制敌寇，
And warring with the Persian
同波斯军队鏖战，
To keep his country free;
让祖国得保自由;
With his three hundred waging
他率领三百勇士，
The battle, long he stood,
战斗中始终挺立，
And like a lion raging,
像威猛暴怒的雄狮，
Expired in seas of blood.
在滔滔血海中沉溺。
Sons of Greeks! let us go
起来，希腊的儿男!
In arms against the foe,
挥戈向敌人迎战，
Till their hated blood shall flow
让他们腥臭的血川
In a river past our feet.
像河水在脚下奔窜!
经典英语诗歌二
If Sometimes in the Haunts of Men
倘若偶尔在繁嚣人境
If sometimes in the haunts of men
倘若偶尔在繁嚣人境，
Thine image from my breast may fade,
你音容暂从我心头隐退，
The lonely hour presents again
不久，你温柔娴静的幽影
The semblance of thy gentle shade:
又在我孤寂的时刻重回;
And now that sad and silent hour
如今，那黯然无语的时刻
Thus much of thee can still restore,
还能唤回你前尘历历，
And sorrow unobserved may pour
无人察见的哀思会诉说
The plaint she dare not speak before.
以前未敢倾吐的悲戚。
Oh, pardon that in crowds awhile
恕我有时也不免虚耗
I waste one thought I owe to thee,
那本应专注于你的心意，
And self-condemn'd, appear to smile,
我责怪自己强颜欢笑，
Unfaithful to thy memory!
未能尽忠于对你的思忆。
Nor deem that memory less dear,
似乎我不曾哀恸，那决非
That then I seem not to repine;
对往事旧情不知珍惜;
I would not fools should overhear
我不愿愚夫们听到我伤悲：
One sigh that should be wholly thine.
向你，只向你吞声饮泣!
If not the goblet pass unquaff'd,
传杯把盏，我并不拒绝，
It is not drain'd to banish care;
却不是以此排遣忧伤;
The cup must hold a deadlier draught,
杯中的毒素要更加酷烈，
That brings a Lethe for despair.
才能忘却心中的绝望。
And could Oblivion set my soul
“遗忘”或能把我的灵魂
From all her troubled visions free,
从种种骚乱烦扰中解脱;
I'd dash to earth the sweetest bowl
它若敢淹没对你的思忖，
That drown'd a single thought of thee.
我就要把那金杯摔破!
For wert thou vanish'd from my mind,
倘若你从我心头消失，
Where could my vacant bosom turn?
这空白心灵又转向何处?
And who would then remain behind
那时有谁留下来坚持
To honour thine abandon'd Urn?
祭扫你被人离弃的'坟墓?
No, no—it is my sorrow's pride
我悲怆的心情以此自豪——
That last dear duty to fulfil;
履行这最终的高贵职责;
Though all the world forget beside,
哪怕全世界都把你忘掉，
'Tis meet that I remember still.
只要有我在，我终久记得!
For well I know, that such had been
因为我深知，在悠悠往昔，
Thy gentle care for him, who now
你对他何等亲切温存;
Unmourn'd shall quit this mortal scene,
今后他死去再无人悼惜，
Where none regarded him, but thou:
眷念过他的只有你一人;
And, oh! I feel in that was given
我从你那儿蒙受的恩幸
A blessing never meant for me;
决不是理应归我所有;
Thou wert too like a dream of Heaven.
你宛如一场天国绮梦，
For earthly Love to merit thee.
尘世爱情不配去攀求。
经典英语诗歌三
Away, Away去吧,去吧
Away, away, ye notes of woe!
去吧，去吧，悲凉的曲调!
Be silent, thou once soothing strain,
沉默吧，一度甘美的乐音!
Or I must flee from hence—for, oh!
否则，我只得掩耳奔逃，
I dare not trust those sounds again.
这样的乐曲我不忍重听。
To me they speak of brighter days—
它们追述欢愉的往昔——
But lull the chords, for now, alas!
此刻，快停止拨弄琴弦!
I must not think, I may not gaze
我不愿正视，也不堪回忆
On what I am—on what I was.
我的今日，和我的当年。
The voice that made those sounds more sweet
你嗓音已哑，使这些乐曲。
Is hush'd, and all their charms are fled;
原先的魅力都逃逸无踪;
And now their softest notes repeat
如今，它们低回的旋律
A dirge, an anthem o'er the dead!
不过是挽歌哀乐的复诵。
Yes, Thyrza! yes, they breathe of thee
是的，它们在唱你，赛沙!
Beloved dust! since dust thou art;
唱你——被人挚爱的尘土;
And all that once was harmony
那曲调原先是雍融和洽，
Is worse than discord to my heart!
如今比不上嘈杂的喧呼!
'Tis silent all!—but on my ear
全都静默了!可是我耳边
The well remember'd echoes thrill;
记忆犹新的回声在颤栗;
I hear a voice I would not hear,
听见的声音，我不愿听见，
A voice that now might well be still:
这样的声音早就该沉寂。
Yet oft my doubting soul 'twill shake;
它还在摇撼我迷惘的心灵，
Even slumber owns its gentle tone,
那柔婉乐音潜入我梦寐，
Till consciousness will vainly wake
“意识”枉然醒过来谛听，
To listen, though the dream be flown.
那梦境早已飞去不回。
Sweet Thyrza! waking as in sleep,
赛沙呵!醒来也如在梦中，
Thou art but now a lovely dream;
你化为一场神奇的梦幻;
A star that trembled o'er the deep,
仿佛海上闪烁的孤星，
Then turned from earth its tender beam.
清光已不再俯照人寰。
But he who through life's dreary way
当苍天震怒，大地阴晦，
Must pass, when heaven is veil'd in wrath,
有人在人生的征途跋涉，
Will long lament the vanish'd ray
他久久悼惜那隐没的明辉——
That scatter'd gladness o'er his path.
它在这征途上投洒过欢乐。
如何欣赏英语诗歌呢
英文诗歌是各种英语文体中最富有激情和感情色彩的一种文体。诗歌往往用高度凝练的语言来表达诗人的喜怒哀乐以及诗人对生活和客观世界的理解和感悟。当我们在欣赏一首诗时，可以通过文字捕捉到诗人的内心情感。一首优秀的诗可以以其特有的方式影响人们的精神世界。
一、诗歌的篇幅一般短小精悍，语言精练，感情强烈；在格式上，英语诗歌同汉语诗歌一样讲究押韵。
诗的押韵是指通过重复元音或辅音以达到一定的音韵效果。一首诗的押韵具有带规律性的一致性，尤其是在诗句的.末尾，称尾韵。下面我们来看Thomas Nashe的一首诗：
Spring
Spring, the sweet Spring, is the year’s pleasant king;
Then blooms each thing, then maids dance in a ring,
Cold doth not sting, the pretty birds do sing,
Cuckoo, jug-jug, pu-we, to-witta-woo!
The palm and may make country houses gay,
Lambs frisk and play, the shepherds pipe all day,
And we hear aye birds tune this merry lay,
Cuckoo, jug-jug, pu-we, to-witta-woo!
The fields breathe sweet, the daisies kiss our feet,
Young lovers meet, old wives a-sunning sit,
In every street theses tunes our ears do greet,
Cuckoo, jug-jug, pu-we, to-witta-woo!
Spring! the sweet Spring!
这首诗押韵整齐，读起来很有节奏感， 表现了春天里万物复苏、生机盎然、一派欢乐祥和的生动景象。
二、现代诗歌可以押韵，也可以不押韵，但需注意两点：
1. 要有节奏感。没有节奏感的诗歌不能算诗，最多是分行的散文。
2. 要把握句子结构的平衡，也就是诗句长短不要相差太远，否则读起来给人不平衡、不舒服之感。
下面我们欣赏一首现代诗：
The Significance of Failure
Failure doesn’t mean you are a failure,
It does mean you haven’t succeeded yet.
Failure doesn’t mean you have accomplished nothing,
It does mean you have learned something.
Failure doesn’t mean you have been a fool,
It does mean you had a lot of faith.
Failure doesn’t mean you’ve been disgraced,
It does mean you were willing to try.
Failure doesn’t mean you don’t have it,
It does mean you have to do something in a different way.
Failure doesn’t mean you are inferior,
It does mean you are not perfect.
Failure doesn’t mean you’ve wasted your life,
It does mean you have a reason to start afresh.
Failure doesn’t mean you should give up,
It does mean you must try harder.
Failure doesn’t mean you’ll never make it,
It does mean it will take a little longer.
Failure doesn’t mean God has abandoned you,
It does mean God has a better idea.
这首诗是Robert Harold Schuller的一篇励志佳作。这首诗虽然句尾不押韵，但是由于每句诗都以排比的形式重复使用Failure doesn’t mean ... It does mean ...，使得整首诗节奏感很强，读起来催人奋进，使读者受到感染。
[佳作赏析]
When You Are Old
When you are old and grey and full of sleep,
And nodding by the fire, take down this book,
And slowly read, and dream of the soft look
Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep;
How many loved your moments of glad grace,
And loved your beauty with love false or true,
But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you,
And loved the sorrows of your changing face;
And bending down beside the glowing bars,
Murmur, a little sadly, how Love fled
And paced upon the mountains overhead
And hid his face amid a crowd of stars.
这首诗的作者是William Butler Yeats（威廉·巴特勒·叶芝）。叶芝是爱尔兰最伟大的诗人之一 ，对现代诗影响很大。这首诗是叶芝写给自己心爱之人的情诗。诗中的主人公“你”指的是爱尔兰革命家Maud Gonne，诗人遇见她并爱上她，曾多次向其求婚，均未成功，但诗人对她爱慕终生，于是就有了这篇经典之作。
全诗共三节，前两节均是对Maud Gonne的爱意倾诉。第一节中虽然多次用第二人称“你”，但实际上是描述作者自己心中的所思所想。第二节中诗人采用了对比的手法，讲述了对Maud Gonne的爱慕之情，突出自己永恒的爱。最后一节诗人描述了自己内心悲伤的感情。诗中sleep / deep, book / look, grace / face, bars / stars, fled / overhead这几组韵调使诗歌富于音韵感，有音律美，节奏感强，读起来琅琅上口。纵观全诗，没有华丽的辞藻，也找不到甜蜜的情话，有的只是平淡的文字背后寄予的永恒的爱意和深情，反而能让读者久久回味。
英语诗歌欣赏
(1)
What does little birdie say，小鸟说些什么呢?
In her nest at peep of day? 在这黎明初晓的小巢中?
Let me fly， says little birdie，小鸟说，让我飞，
Mother， let me fly away，妈妈，让我飞走吧。
Birdie， rest a little longer，宝贝，稍留久一会儿，
Till the little wings are stronger.等到那对小翅膀再长硬些儿。
So she rests a little longer，因此它又多留了一会儿，
Then she flies away.然而它还是飞走了。
(2)
What does little baby say，婴儿说些什么，
In her bed at peep of day? 在破晓时分的.床上?
Baby says， like little birdie，婴儿像小鸟那样说，
Let me rise and fly away.让我起来飞走吧。
Baby， sleep a little longer，乖乖，稍微多睡一会儿，
Till the little limbs are stronger.等你的四肢再长硬点儿。
If she sleeps a little longer，如果她再多睡一会儿，
Baby too shall fly away.婴儿必然也会像鸟儿一样地飞走。
by Alfred Tennyson， 1809-1892
★ 欣赏英语诗歌
★ 散步诗歌
★ 去海边散步作文
