世界著名英文诗歌欣赏
诗歌是语言的精髓,是最古老、最具文学特质的文学形式。英语诗歌以其特有的格律与韵律向世人突显了其独特的音乐美。小编精心收集了世界著名英文诗歌，供大家欣赏学习!
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.
世界著名英文诗歌篇2Long 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.
世界著名英文诗歌篇3Love 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.
世界著名英文诗歌篇4Lord 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."
世界著名英文诗歌篇5Late 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.
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