经典优秀英语诗歌欣赏

英语诗歌是英语语言的精华。它以最凝练的文字传递时间与空间、物质与精神、理智与情感。诗歌本身包含的丰富社会生活内容和艺术内涵,诗歌语言的独特的美与和谐都使它们具有无穷的魅力。本站小编分享经典优秀英语诗歌，希望可以帮助大家!

　　经典优秀英语诗歌：The Interrogation

Amit Majmudar

When they leathered his arm to the armrest and began

like manicurists in a nail salon

he says that he "retreated" from his hand

until the part of him that dwelt there once was gone

and heard no news from his own outer reaches.

In his memoir of those years, he sketches

the tricks he used, one of which was "vision."

Maybe it's better we present his version:

"I imagined my arm as a slope I had to scale,

shaft of the humerus as smooth as shale

but white like bone and giving way like sand

wherever I set foot. I couldn't stand,

couldn't take a breather, or I'd ride my own

disintegration down and end up on

the shore -- which was my hand, my fingernails.

I crested my shoulder, rested on its knoll.

I looked down then and saw the pain as men

charging uphill to where I hid my sense

of pain. At once I stomped a foot to see

the whole arm crack, calve, crash into the sea,

disarticulated, part of me no more.

I did this for the other arm and for

my feet and testicles and eyes until

I found myself on a Pacific atoll

that had no latitude, no longitude.

I built a hut, I scuttled the one canoe.

I saw a sun that weighed a kiloton

and the power cord by which it swung."

　　经典优秀英语诗歌：The Halo

C. Dale Young

In the paintings left to us

by the Old Masters, the halo,

a smallish cloud of light, clung

to the head, carefully framed the faces

of mere mortals made divine.

Accident? My body launched

by a car's incalculable momentum?

It ended up outside the car. I had no idea then

what it was like to lose days, to wake

and find everything had changed.

Through glass, this body went

through the glass window, the seatbelt

snapping my neck. Not the hanged man,

not a man made divine but more human.

I remember those pins buried in my skull,

the cold metal frame surrounding my head,

metal reflecting a small fire, a glow. All

was changed. In that bed, I was a locust.

I was starving. And how could I not be?

I, I . . . I am still ravenous.

　　经典优秀英语诗歌：The Mind Is Its Own Place

Ann Townsend

Mated and unmated,

starlings swarm the willow

with their devotions

until the tree roils

and sways, wing-beats

sounding the torrent

through which they swim.

Dopamine, paroxetine,

an injection of adrenaline

into the bloodstream:

these deliver the dissident

fuel I crave for the mind's

pleasure, and for its pain.

Call it one song indispensable

to trouble the branching

arteries. The willow divinates

toward water, switching

in the breeze; it grazes

the edge but cannot

rest there. My fingertips

pressed against my temples:

ten points of sensation,

a vaulted cage where

starlings congregate

to rustle their chaos,

their alphabet blown to bits

in the wind's rush.

Yes, you heard me.

Like an aviary, Plato said,

the mind is full of birds.

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