优美英文诗歌汉英对照
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。下面本站小编为大家带来优美英文诗歌汉英对照，欢迎大家阅读!
优美英文诗歌汉英对照：回答
卑鄙是卑鄙者的通行证，
高尚是高尚者的墓志铭，
看吧，在那镀金的天空中，
飘满了死者弯曲的倒影。
冰川纪过去了，
为什么到处都是冰凌?
好望角发现了，
为什么死海里千帆相竞?
我来到这个世界上，
只带着纸、绳索和身影，
为了在审判之前，
宣读那些被判决的声音。
告诉你吧，世界
我--不--相--信!
纵使你脚下有一千名挑战者，
那就把我算作第一千零一名。
我不相信天是蓝的，
我不相信雷的回声，
我不相信梦是假的，
我不相信死无报应。
如果海洋注定要决堤，
就让所有的苦水都注入我心中，
如果陆地注定要上升，
就让人类重新选择生存的峰顶。
新的转机和闪闪星斗，
正在缀满没有遮拦的天空。
那是五千年的象形文字，
那是未来人们凝视的眼睛。
Cruelty is the ID pass of the cruel,
honesty the grave stone of the honest.
Look, in the sky plated gold,
crooked reflections of all the dead float around.
The glacial epoch is over,
so why is there ice everywhere?
Good Hope was rounded a long time ago,
so where are these thousands of boats racing on the Dead Sea?
I came into this world
with only blank pages, rope and my fingers;
therefore, before final judgements are given,
I need to speak in all the voices of the defendants.
Just let me say, world,
I--don't--believe!
If a thousand challengers are under your feet
count me as challenger one-thousand-and-one.
I don't believe the sky is always blue;
I don't believe it was thunder echoing;
I don't believe all dreaming is false;
I don't believe the dead cannot bring judgement.
If the sea is doomed someday to break its levees
my heart must flood with all the bitter waters.
If the land is destined to form the hills again,
let real human beings learn to choose the higher ground.
The latest, favorable turnings, the twinkling stars
studding the naked sky,
are pictographs five-thousand years old.
They are the eyes of the future staring at us now.
优美英文诗歌汉英对照：古寺
消失的钟声
结成蛛网，在裂缝的柱子里
扩散成一圈圈年轮
没有记忆，石头
空蒙的山谷里传播回声的
石头，没有记忆
当小路绕开这里的时候
龙和怪鸟也飞走了
从房檐上带走喑哑的铃铛
荒草一年一度
生长，那么漠然
不在乎它们屈从的主人
是僧侣的布鞋，还是风
石碑残缺，上面的文字已经磨损
仿佛只有在一场大火之中
才能辨认，也许
会随着一道生者的目光
乌龟在泥土中复活
驮着沉重的秘密，爬出门槛
The long ago songs of a bell
weaved this spider web; in the column's crevices,
grown outward, one sees annual rings there for the counting.
No memories are here; stones
that merely scattered the echoes in this mountain valley,
have no memories.
That little path, even, by-passed it;
its dragons and strange birds are gone.
They took with them the silent bells that hung from the eaves.
They took the unrecorded legends of the place, too.
The words on the walls are all worn clean and torn.
Maybe if it caught on fire
one could read the words on the inside.
See the annual growths of the wild grasses,
so indifferent.
They don't care if they submit to any master,
to the shoes of the old monks,
or to the winds, either.
Out front the sky is held up by a broken stone tablet.
Still, led by the gaze of some living person,
the tortoise may revive and
come out carrying his heavy secret,
crawl right out there on the temple's threshold.
