英语励志中长篇诗歌1 TheLastLeaf OliverWendellHolmes Isawhimoncebefore, Ashepassedbythedoor, Andagain T下面是小编为大家整理的2023年度英语励志中长篇诗歌,菁选2篇【完整版】,供大家参考。
英语励志中长篇诗歌1
The Last Leaf
Oliver Wendell Holmes
I saw him once before,
As he passed by the door,
And again
The pavement stones resound,
As he totters o"er the ground
With his cane.
They say that in his prime,
Ere the pruning-knife of Time
Cut him down,
Not a better man was found
By the Crier on his round
Through the town.
But now he walks the streets,
And he looks at all he meets
Sad and wan,
And he shakes his feeble head,
That it seems as if he said,
"They are gone!"
The mossy marbles rest
On the lips that he has prest
In their bloom,
And the names he loved to hear
Have been carved for many a year
On the tomb.
My grandmamma has said--
Poor old lady, she is dead
Long ago--
That he had a Roman nose,
And his cheek was like a rose
In the snow;
But now his nose is thin,
And it rests upon his chin
Like a staff,
And a crook is in his back,
And a melancholy crack
In his laugh.
I know it is a sin
For me to sit and grin
At him here;
But the old three-cornered hat,
And the breeches, and all that,
Are so queer!
And if I should live to be
The last leaf upon the tree
In the spring,
Let them smile, as I do now,
At the old forsaken bough
Where I cling.
最后的叶片
奥利弗·温德尔·霍姆斯
他曾从门前经过，
我在一旁观望;
如今，石板路又哒哒作响，
他蹒跚走来，
手里拄着拐杖。
人们说他当时年轻力壮，
时光的剪刀虽有锐利锋芒，
尚未削去他的青春模样;
周围的人们有口皆碑，
满城数他最为善良。
如今，他却在街头流浪，
看着别人的面孔，憔悴忧伤;
虚弱的脑袋，不断摇晃，
似乎在说;
“他们已不在世上”?
他曾热吻过的姑娘，
就在这墓中安葬;
一块生苔的石碑，立在墓旁，
刻着他所爱慕的芳名，
岁月悠长。
我年迈的祖母久已过世，
话音还在耳边回荡;
说他长着高高的鼻梁，
说他的面颊像一朵玫瑰，
在雪中绽放。
可是现在，
他的鼻子干瘪瘦长，
贴近下巴像纤细的棍棒;
弯腰驼背，
沙哑的笑声带着不尽的凄凉。
坐着笑看他的模样，
一种负罪的感觉在我心底隐藏;
可那破旧的尖顶小帽，
还有马裤，所有的衣装，
实在是奇形怪状!
假如我的生命十分久长，
能够成为最后的叶片挂在春天的树上，
让人们冲着我悬挂的残枝发笑吧，
就像我现在这样，
尽管那残枝久已被人们淡忘!
英语励志中长篇诗歌2
A Peasant
by Ronald Stuart Thomas
Iago Prytherch his name, though, be allowed,
Just an ordinary man of the bald Welsh hills,
Who pens a few sheep in a gap of cloud.
Docking mangels, chipping the green skin
From the yellow bones with a hallf-witted grin
Of satisfaction, or churning the crude earth
To a stiff sea of clods that glint in the wind---
So are his days spent, his spittled mirth
Rarer than the sun that cracks the cheeks
Of the gaunt sky perhaps once in a week.
And then at night see him fixed in his chair
Motionless, except when he leans to gob in the fire.
There is something frightening in the vacancy of his mind.
His clothes, sour with years of sweat
And animal contact, shock the refined,
But affected, sense with their stark naturalness.
Yet this is your proto, who season by season
Against siege of rain and the wind"s attrition,
Preserves his stock, an impregnable fortress
Not to be stormed even in death"s confusion.
Remember him then, for he, too, is a winner of wars
Enduring like a tree under the curious stars.
一个农民
伊阿戈-普里特奇是他的`名字，请原谅
他只是光秃秃的威尔士山间的普通人，
在白云的缝隙当中关进了几只羊。
剪短一颗颗饲牛的甜菜，削绿皮，
切黄梗，心满意足地咧着嘴儿
傻笑;或者，猛劲儿犁翻粗糙的大地，
造出凝滞的泥土的海洋，在风中闪耀——
他这样度着日子，流着口水的欢笑
比那或许一礼拜一次使憔悴的天公
笑逐颜开的太阳还要难见到。
夜晚，他在椅子上坐定，纹丝不动。
只有向炉火中吐痰时才歪一下身子。
他那空空的脑袋有点儿叫人害怕。
他的衣衫，由于终年累月地流汗
和接触牲畜而发酸;这裸露的自然状态
使文雅(而矫作)的人们深感惊骇。
但这是你的原型，一个季节又一个季节，
他抵御着暴雨的围攻和狂风的侵袭，
保护着他的家族，那坚不可摧的堡垒，
即使在死亡的困惑中也不会受到冲击。
记住他吧，因为他也是战争的胜利者，
犹如好奇的群星下一颗不朽的大树。
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