世界著名英文詩歌欣賞

　　詩歌是語言的精髓,是最古老、最具文學特質的文學形式。英語詩歌以其特有的格律與韻律向世人突顯了其獨特的音樂美。小編精心收集了世界著名英文詩歌，供大家欣賞學習!

　　世界著名英文詩歌篇1

　　Little Match Box

　　by Tess Gallagher

　　And if there were two moons，

　　who would sleep when one

　　passed before the other

　　and took it in

　　on its dark side? Wouldn't

　　some extra light ray out

　　around the sustaining one?

　　Wouldn't you sense

　　the two in one， even if you'd

　　never seen them parted?

　　Sometimes a glory

　　is just that—a guessing-into

　　the seen， noticing

　　the fringe of presence

　　when it comes， trying to match

　　its fervency by something

　　as tangible， something

　　only you are equal to.

　　世界著名英文詩歌篇2

　　Long Island Sound

　　by Emma Lazarus

　　I see it as it looked one afternoon

　　In August，——by a fresh soft breeze o'erblown.

　　The swiftness of the tide， the light thereon，

　　A far-off sail， white as a crescent moon.

　　The shining waters with pale currents strewn，

　　The quiet fishing-smacks， the Eastern cove，

　　The semi-circle of its dark， green grove.

　　The luminous grasses， and the merry sun

　　In the grave sky; the sparkle far and wide，

　　Laughter of unseen children， cheerful chirp

　　Of crickets， and low lisp of rippling tide，

　　Light summer clouds fantastical as sleep

　　Changing unnoted while I gazed thereon.

　　All these fair sounds and sights I made my own.

　　世界著名英文詩歌篇3

　　Love Incarnateby Frank Bidart

　　To all those driven berserk or humanized by love

　　this is offered， for I need help

　　deciphering my dream.

　　When we love our lord is LOVE.

　　When I recall that at the fourth hour

　　of the night， watched by shining stars，

　　LOVE at last became incarnate，

　　the memory is horror.

　　In his hands smiling LOVE held my burning

　　heart， and in his arms， the body whose greeting

　　pierces my soul， now wrapped in bloodred， sleeping.

　　He made him wake. He ordered him to eat

　　my heart. He ate my burning heart. He ate it

　　submissively， as if afraid as LOVE wept.

　　世界著名英文詩歌篇4

　　Lord Randall

　　by Anonymous

　　"Oh where ha'e ye been， Lord Randall my son?

　　O where ha'e ye been， my handsome young man?"

　　"I ha'e been to the wild wood： mother， make my bed soon，

　　For I'm weary wi' hunting， and fain wald lie down."

　　"Where gat ye your dinner， Lord Randall my son?

　　Where gat ye your dinner， my handsome young man?"

　　"I dined wi' my true love; mother， make my bed soon，

　　For I'm weary wi' hunting， and fain wald lie down."

　　"What gat ye to your dinner， Lord Randall my son?

　　What gat ye to your dinner， my handsome young man?"

　　"I gat eels boiled in broo： mother， make my bed soon，

　　For I'm weary wi' hunting， and fain wald lie down."

　　"What became of your bloodhounds， Lord Randall my son?

　　What became of your bloodhounds， my handsome young man?"

　　"O they swelled and they died： mother， make my bed soon，

　　for I'm weary wi' hunting， and fain wald lie down."

　　"O I fear ye are poisoned， Lord Randall my son!

　　O I fear ye are poisoned， my handsome young man!"

　　"O yes， I am poisoned： mother， make my bed soon，

　　For I'm sick at the heart， and I fain wald lie down."

　　世界著名英文詩歌篇5

　　Late Septemberby Charles Simic

　　The mail truck goes down the coast

　　Carrying a single letter.

　　At the end of a long pier

　　The bored seagull lifts a leg now and then

　　And forgets to put it down.

　　There is a menace in the air

　　Of tragedies in the making.

　　Last night you thought you heard television

　　In the house next door.

　　You were sure it was some new

　　Horror they were reporting，

　　So you went out to find out.

　　Barefoot， wearing just shorts.

　　It was only the sea sounding weary

　　After so many lifetimes

　　Of pretending to be rushing off somewhere

　　And never getting anywhere.

　　This morning， it felt like Sunday.

　　The heavens did their part

　　By casting no shadow along the boardwalk

　　Or the row of vacant cottages，

　　Among them a small church

　　With a dozen gray tombstones huddled close

　　As if they， too， had the shivers.