關(guān)于英文短篇詩歌欣賞
詩歌是語言藝術(shù)的精華,它不僅語言精練、韻律感強、意境優(yōu)美,而且朗朗上口,適于朗誦,貼近生活,題材廣泛。下面是學習啦小編帶來的關(guān)于英文短篇詩歌欣賞，歡迎閱讀!
關(guān)于英文短篇詩歌欣賞篇一
Who Can Explain Why We Love It
Who can explain why we love it- West Lake is good.
The beautiful scene is without time,
Flying canopies chase each other,
Greedy to be among the flowers, drunk, with a jade cup.
Who can know I'm idle here, leaning on the rail.
Fragrant grass in slanting rays,
Fine mist on distant water,One white egret flying from the Immortal Isle.
關(guān)于英文短篇詩歌欣賞篇二
Scraps of cloud in rosy dusk- West Lake is good
Flowers on the bank, duckweed on sand,
A hundred acres of peaceful ripples,
On the overgrown bank, no man- just the stroke of a boat.
South-west, across the moon, scattered clouds are drifting.
Cool rises at the terrace rail,
Lotus flowers' scent is clear,Wind from the water's face makes the wine face sober.
關(guān)于英文短篇詩歌欣賞篇三
Lament of the Farm Wife of Wu
Rice this year ripens so late!
We watch, but when will frost winds come?
They come - with rain in bucketfuls;the harrow sprouts mod, the sickle rusts.
My tears are all cried out, but rain never ends;
it hurts to see yellow stalks flattened in mud.
We camped in a grass shelter a month by the fields;
then it cleared and we reaped the grain, followed the wagon home,
sweaty, shoulders sore, carting it to town -
the price it fetched, you'd think we came with chaff.
We sold the ox to pay taxes, broke up the roof for kindling;
we'll get by for the time, but what of next year's hunger?
Officials demand cash now - they won't take grain;
the long northwest border tempts invaders.
Wise men fill the court - why do things get worse?
I'd be better off bride to the River Lord*
ancient custom of sacrificing a young girl each year as a "bride" to the River Lord, the god of the Yellow River.
關(guān)于英文短篇詩歌欣賞篇四
On the Pure Brightness Festival
On the Pure Brightness festival- West Lake is good.
Everywhere flowers abound,
Why does anyone need to speak?
Green willows and red wheels of decorated carriages passing.
As sun sets the visitors start to move off together.
Drunk or sober, making a noise, The road bends, the dyke slants,
All the way to the city gate, everything is flowers.
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