優美的經典英文詩歌精選

　　英語詩歌作為文學的表現形式之一,在分類、節奏、韻律、構思、詞序、選詞等方面都自成體系,以自己獨特的形式展示著詩人對生活的理解。小編精心收集了優美的經典英文詩歌，供大家欣賞學習!

　　優美的經典英文詩歌篇1

　　The Portrait

　　by Stanley Kunitz

　　My mother never forgave my father

　　for killing himself，

　　especially at such an awkward time

　　and in a public park，

　　that spring

　　when I was waiting to be born.

　　She locked his name

　　in her deepest cabinet

　　and would not let him out，

　　though I could hear him thumping.

　　When I came down from the attic

　　with the pastel portrait in my hand

　　of a long-lipped stranger

　　with a brave moustache

　　and deep brown level eyes，

　　she ripped it into shreds

　　without a single word

　　and slapped me hard.

　　In my sixty-fourth year

　　I can feel my cheek

　　still burning.

　　優美的經典英文詩歌篇2

　　The Orchid Flower

　　by Sam Hamill

　　Just as I wonder

　　whether it's going to die，

　　the orchid blossoms

　　and I can't explain why it

　　moves my heart， why such pleasure

　　comes from one small bud

　　on a long spindly stem， one

　　blood red gold flower

　　opening at mid-summer，

　　tiny， perfect in its hour.

　　Even to a white-

　　haired craggy poet， it's

　　purely erotic，

　　pistil and stamen， pollen，

　　dew of the world， a spoonful

　　of earth， and water.

　　Erotic because there's death

　　at the heart of birth，

　　drama in those old sunrise

　　prisms in wet cedar boughs，

　　deepest mystery

　　in washing evening dishes

　　or teasing my wife，

　　who grows， yes， more beautiful

　　because one of us will die.

　　優美的經典英文詩歌篇3

　　Canon 501

　　by Brian Swann

　　The song was moist， filing away，

　　drifting while we drifted， something

　　in blackface， Al Jolson of birdland，

　　not quite right， prophesizing until hoarse

　　who knows what. The locals say he

　　draws poison from you， angatkuk，

　　shaman， though they don't believe it.

　　Then the incongruous smell of

　　chrysanthemum crossed us up and

　　we remembered the service-station

　　with someone in handcuffs. Probably

　　a mistake， said the attendant， though

　　they do get violent. The prisoner yawned.

　　Our map lumbered from point to point

　　as if trying to remember something itself，

　　anything. We tossed it and got out.

　　On the long walk back the tundra looked cozier

　　by moonlight， everywhere the same，

　　white as bleached whalebone. But

　　things had not been right all day.

　　In the damp heat everything was wobbly，

　　even the bride at the old mission who

　　seemed to grow clouds like companions，

　　drawing them after. I glimpsed a ring

　　of seal-fur flash on her wrist. Mm-hmm，

　　unh-hunh they went. The honeymoon

　　was spent beyond the rigs. It was enough

　　for them it didn't rain or snow though

　　the driftwood fire they made beside the boats

　　was all smoke. The sea sounded obscure

　　as if it had no shape and was empty.

　　We tried to capture it on Canon 501

　　and sent it south， but even that seemed staged.

　　優美的經典英文詩歌篇4

　　Carentan O Carentan

　　by Louis Simpson

　　Trees in the old days used to stand

　　And shape a shady lane

　　Where lovers wandered hand in hand

　　Who came from Carentan.

　　This was the shining green canal

　　Where we came two by two

　　Walking at combat-interval.

　　Such trees we never knew.

　　The day was early June， the ground

　　Was soft and bright with dew.

　　Far away the guns did sound，

　　But here the sky was blue.

　　The sky was blue， but there a smoke

　　Hung still above the sea

　　Where the ships together spoke

　　To towns we could not see.

　　Could you have seen us through a glass

　　You would have said a walk

　　Of farmers out to turn the grass，

　　Each with his own hay-fork.

　　The watchers in their leopard suits

　　Waited till it was time，

　　And aimed between the belt and boot

　　And let the barrel climb.

　　I must lie down at once， there is

　　A hammer at my knee.

　　And call it death or cowardice，

　　Don't count again on me.

　　Everything's all right， Mother，

　　Everyone gets the same

　　At one time or another.

　　It's all in the game.

　　I never strolled， nor ever shall，

　　Down such a leafy lane.

　　I never drank in a canal，

　　Nor ever shall again.

　　There is a whistling in the leaves

　　And it is not the wind，

　　The twigs are falling from the knives

　　That cut men to the ground.

　　Tell me， Master-Sergeant，

　　The way to turn and shoot.

　　But the Sergeant's silent

　　That taught me how to do it.

　　O Captain， show us quickly

　　Our place upon the map.

　　But the Captain's sickly

　　And taking a long nap.

　　Lieutenant， what's my duty，

　　My place in the platoon?

　　He too's a sleeping beauty，

　　Charmed by that strange tune.

　　Carentan O Carentan

　　Before we met with you

　　We never yet had lost a man

　　Or known what death could do.