优秀英语四级美文荐读
英语写作能力是衡量英语学习者综合应用能力的主要尺度。但是,英语写作往往是广大英语学习者的薄弱环节，通过强化英语阅读来提高英语写作能力。下面是本站小编带来的优秀英语四级美文荐读，欢迎阅读!
One Dollars Worth-一美圆的价值
The United States One Dollar Bill. Take out a one dollar bill，and look at it.
The one dollar bill you“”re looking at first came off the presses in 1957 in its present design.
This so-called paper money is in fact a cotton and linen blend with Red and blue minute silk fibers running through it.
It is actually material.
We“”ve all washed it without it falling apart. A special blend of ink is used，the contents we will never know. It is overprinted with symbols and then it is starched to make it water resistant and pressed to give it that nice crisp look.
If you look on the front of the bill，you will see the United States Treasury Seal.
On the top，you will see the scales for a balanced the center you have a carpenter“”s square，a tool used for an even cut. Underneath is the Key to the United States “”s all pretty easy to figure out，but what is on the back of that dollar bill is something we should all you turn the bill over，you will see two circles.
Both circles，together，comprise the Great Seal of the United States. The First Continental Congress requested that Benjamin Franklin and a group of men come up with a Seal. It took them four years to accomplish this task and another two years to get it approved.
If you look at the left-hand circle，you will see a Pyramid. Notice the face is lighted and the western side is dark. This country was just beginning. We had not begun to explore the West or decided what we could do for Western Civilization.
The Pyramid is un-capped，again signifying that we were not even close to being finished. Inside the capstone，you have the all-seeing eye，an ancient symbol for divinity. It was Franklin“”s belief that one man couldn“”t do it alone，but a group of men，with the help of God，could do anything.“In God We Trust”is on this currency，but that phrase was added in the 1950s during the Red Scare.
Prior to that，none of our paper currency had that phrase.
The Latin above the pyramid，Annuit Coeptis，means，“God has favored our undertaking.”
The Latin below the pyramid，Novus Ordo Seclorum，means，“a new order has begun.”
At the base of the pyramid is the Roman Numeral for 1776.
If you look at the right-hand circle，and check it carefully，you will learn that it is on every National Cemetery in the United States.
It is also on the Parade of Flags Walkway at the Bushnell，Florida National Cemetery and is the centerpiece of most heroes“”
monuments. Slightly modified，it is the seal of the President of the United States，and it is always visible whenever he speaks，yet very few people know what the symbols mean.
The Bald Eagle was selected as a symbol for victory for two reasons：
First，he is not afraid of a storm;he is strong，and he is smart enough to soar above it.
Second，he wears no material crown. We had just broken from the King of England.
Also，notice the shield is unsupported. This country can now stand on its own.
At the top of that shield you have a white bar signifying congress，a unifying factor. We were coming together as one nation.
In the Eagle“”s beak you will read，“E Pluribus Unum”，meaning，“one nation from many people.”
Above the Eagle，you have thirteen stars，representing the thirteen original colonies and any clouds of misunderstanding rolling away. Again，we were coming together as one.
Notice what the Eagle holds in his talons. He holds an olive branch and arrows. This country wants peace，but we will never be afraid to fight to preserve peace. The Eagle always wants to face the olive branch，but in time of war，his gaze turns toward the arrows.
They say that the number 13 is an unlucky number. This is almost a worldwide belief. You will usually never see a room numbered 13，or any hotels or motels with a 13th floor. But think about this：
13 original colonies，13 signers of the Declaration of Independence，13 stripes on our flag，13 steps on the Pyramid，13 letters in the Latin above，13 letters in“E Pluribus Unum”，13 stars above the Eagle，13 bars on that shield，13 leaves on the olive branch，13 fruits，and if you look closely，13 arrows. And，for minorities：the 13th Amendment.
I always ask people，“Why don”“t you know this?”Your children don“”t know this，and their history teachers don“”t know this.
Too many veterans have given up too much to ever let the meaning fade. Many veterans remember coming home to an America that didn“”t care. Too many veterans never came home at all.
Share this page with everyone，so they can learn what is on the back of the UNITED STATES ONE DOLLAR BILL and what it stands for. Otherwise，they will probably never know……
优秀英语四级美文荐读篇二The Lost Heart of Asia
The following passage is an extract from The Lost Heart of Asia by British travel writer Colin Thubron. In this book，Thubron travels through the countries of Central Asia shortly after the collapse of the Soviet Union. In this extract，Thubron describes his first evening in the city of Mari，in Turkmenistan.
下面这段文章选自英国游记作家科林?萨布伦撰写的《亚西亚失落的心》一书。
本书描述了萨布伦在苏联解体后不久游历中亚诸国的经历。在这个节选片段中，萨布伦叙述了他在土库曼斯坦马雷市度过的第一晚的见闻。
Eastward from Ashkhabad my train lumbered across a region of oases where rivers dropped out of Iran to die in the Turcoman desert. In one window the Kopet Dagh mountains lurched darkly out of haze，and repeated themselves in thinning colours far into the sky. Beyond the other rolled a grey-green savannah，gashed with poppies. Over this immensity the sky curved like a frescoed ceiling，where flotillas of white and grey clouds floated on separate winds.
我乘坐的列车由阿什哈巴德驶出，一路向东，在土库曼沙漠中的绿洲地区中缓慢行驶，源自伊朗的数条河流便在这里汇集。透过一扇车窗，可以看到考匹特塔克山脉在黑色的迷雾中蜿蜒前行，若隐若现，其颜色随着山势的增高而变得模糊起来。另一扇车窗中，灰绿色草原绵延不绝，四处是凌乱的罂粟。天空在无垠的大地上盘旋曲折，仿佛是一个刻有壁画的天花板，密集的白云和灰云在空中随着阵风飘移。
Once or twice under the foothills I glimpsed the mound of a kurgan，broken open like the lips of a volcano– the burial-place of a tribal chief，perhaps，or the milestone of some lost nomad advance. Along this narrow littoral，a century ago，the Tekke Turcomans had grazed their camels and tough Argamak horses，and tilled the soil around forty-three earthen fortresses. Now the Karakum canal ran down from the Oxus through villages with old，despairing names such as“Dead-End”and“Cursed-by-God”，and fed collective farms of wheat and cotton.
在山麓小丘之下，我瞥见了一两个坟头，坟头已经裂开，样子与火山口相仿——也许，它是部落首领的埋葬之地，或者就是某个迷失的游牧开拓者的一座里程碑。一个世纪之前，在这个滨海地区的沿岸，提基亚土库曼人用泥土建立起43个堡垒，他们在周围放牧骆驼和凶悍的阿葛马克马，并耕种土地。如今，卡拉库姆运河自阿姆河顺流而下，穿过那些以“死角”和“天谴”等古老、绝望的名字来命名的村子，灌溉着那些种有小麦与棉花的集体农场。
The train was like a town on the move. In its cubicles the close-tiered bunks were stacked with Russian factory workers and gangs of gossiping Turcomans. Grimy windows soured the world outside with their own fog，and a stench of urine rose from the washrooms. But a boisterous freedom was in the air. Everyone was in passage，lightly uprooted. They gobbled salads and tore at scraggy chicken，played cards raucously together and pampered each other“s children，until the afternoon lunch-break lulled them into sleep. Then the stained railway mattresses were deployed over the bunks，and the corridor became a tangle of arms and projecting feet in frayed socks. From a tundra of sheets poked the beards of Turcoman farmers，and the weathered heads of soldiers resting on their caps. Matriarchs on their way to visit relatives in the next oasis lay mounded under blankets or quilted coats，and young women curled up with their children in their arms and their scarves swept over their faces.
这列火车就像一个移动的城镇。车厢单间内，上下铺位间的空间狭窄，上面全都挤满了俄罗斯工人和成群唧喳不停的土库曼人。污秽的车窗布满了雾气，使外面的景色模糊不清，洗手间更是飘来了小便后的恶臭。但空气中弥漫着放纵喧闹的气氛。人们全都是在旅行，似乎有点漂泊在外的味道。他们大口吞咽着沙拉，撕啃着骨多肉少的鸡，一起大声吆喝着玩着扑克，互相哄弄着彼此的小孩，直到下午，午休时间才使他们安静下来，开始睡觉。之后，铺位上纷纷铺起污迹斑斑的列车床垫，走廊里顿时到处都是胳膊和露在外面、穿着破袜子的脚丫子。所有被单仿佛就是一片苔原，土库曼农民把他们的胡子露在了被单外面，而枕着帽子的士兵则把他们那饱受风霜之苦的脑袋露了出来。去下一个绿洲地区看亲戚的老妇人们躺在毛毯里或棉大衣中，好似一座座小山丘，而年轻的妇人则蜷着身子，怀里抱着孩子，并用她们的头巾盖住了自己的脸。
Two hundred miles east of Ashkhabad，where the soil shelved into ridges of scrub-speckled sand，a harsh wind sprang up. It whined against our windows and liquefied the plain and sky to a single，yellowed light. Suddenly ploughed tracts and irrigation channels appeared，and the glisten of flooded rice-fields;and cranes preceded the suburbs of Mari. I had time for a spy“s glimpse into backyards– a view of cherished private plots and straggling geese– before we jolted to a halt.
在阿什哈巴德以东200英里处，土地变成了长有稀松灌木的梯形沙地，狂风即时而起。风沙击打着车窗，把平原和天空融合成一道昏黄的光线。刹那间，犁耕田和灌溉渠出现了，水稻田也在闪闪发亮;到达马雷市郊区之前还看到了一些起重机。在我们的列车摇晃着停下来之前，我还来得及迅速瞥一眼居民的后院——看到的是妥善照料的自耕地和乱窜的鹅。
Mari was a scrawl over the oasis，built piecemeal in a pallid，dead brick. Between flat-blocks and bungalows I tramped towards a heart which was not there. I found a bleak hotel. Towards evening，sitting in its hall before a black-and-white-television，I heard that Najibullah had been deposed in Afghanistan. But there was nobody in the lobby with whom to share this;and the news went on. With a dim dissociation，as if I were receiving reports from a distant planet，I heard that the Danes had rejected the European Exchange Rate Mechanism and that there was to be a memorial concert for Freddie Mercury at Wembley.
马雷市是绿洲地区中一座凌乱的城市，是用白色的、死气沉沉的砖块一块块堆垒起来的。我在居民楼和平房中大步行走，寻找一个原本不存在的市中心。我找到了一家景象凄凉的旅馆。快入夜的时候，坐在大厅中黑白电视机前的我听到了纳吉布拉(原阿富汗总统)在阿富汗被免职的消息。但是，大厅中空无一人，无法与人分享这个消息;新闻还在继续播送。我有点迷失，仿佛我正在一个遥远的星球接收报告，我听到丹麦人否决了欧洲汇率机制，以及要为弗雷迪?摩克瑞(“皇后乐队”主唱)在温布利举行纪念演唱会的消息。
But nothing from the outlandish present seemed real that night. It was the past which impinged. Somewhere on the fringe of this unlovely town lay the ruined caravan-city of Merv，lodestar of the Silk Road for two thousand years，and capital of the gifted and tragic Seljuk Turks：a rich city，sometimes cultivated and benignly powerful，which had nurtured its heterogeneous citizens in a common passion for trade.
但是那晚，在那个奇异的现实中似乎没有一点是真实的。回荡着的只是过去。在这个丑陋的城镇边缘的某个地方，坐落着已沦为废墟的驿站城市——莫夫城，它作为丝绸之路的一颗明珠已有2000年的历史了，而且是拥有天赋、命运悲惨的塞尔柱突厥人的都城：一座富裕的城市，在某段时间里曾拥有过文明并且恃强而不凌弱，城中生活着对贸易有着同样激情的各族居民。
I wandered out into the warm night of Mari. The few street-lamps shed down squalor. The only open restaurant served coarse vegetable soups，with lumps of mutton and goat in sticky rice. I padded down unlit alleys towards a thread of music，and emerged beneath flat-blocks to see a floodlit wedding feast. The guests were sitting at long trestle tables under a ceiling of vines，or dancing in a clearing of beaten earth. I watched them from the darkness. They seemed to be celebrating with an isolated fragility. They danced all together with their arms dangled above their heads. They might have been actors on a faraway stage. Nothing seemed solid. Distance muted the gorging and tippling at the table to an elfin conviviality. The speeches and the clash of toasts dwindled to murmuring and tinkling. The women shimmered in claret-coloured velvets and harlequin headscarves，and the young men flaunted black bomber-jackets and flared jeans.
我出了门，在马雷市温暖的夜晚中漫步。大街上为数不多的路灯投下了昏暗的灯光。唯一一家尚在营业的餐馆提供的是做工很差的羊肉块蔬菜汤，以及拌有羊肉的粘米饭。我跟随着隐约听到的音乐走进了漆黑的巷子，突然在居民楼之下出现了灯火通明的婚宴。宾客们要不围坐在有藤顶遮盖的长折叠桌旁，要不就在一块土质夯实的空地上跳舞。我在黑暗处观察着他们。他们似乎是在一个尘世之外、虚无的世界中庆祝着。他们跳舞时全部都在头上挥舞着手臂。仿佛就是在远处舞台上表演的演员。一切都看似虚幻。由于距离远，所以餐桌上的大吃大喝变成了无声的精灵欢宴。而致辞声和觥筹交错的祝酒声也变小了，成了嘟囔和叮当作响之声。女人们穿着深红色天鹅绒，头戴花格头巾，神采奕奕，而穿着松紧口夹克和阔摆牛仔裤的小伙子们也很招摇。
Adding to the strangeness，there were Russians among them：big，blond men who danced，and affectionate young women kissing their Turcoman friends. They swayed and sang faintly to the plangent music– Turc and Slav together– in a tableau of fairytale unity.
更不可思议的是，俄罗斯人加入了他们中间：高大的金发男子在跳舞，热情洋溢的年轻姑娘在亲吻着他们的土库曼朋友。在一个童话般团结的戏剧性场面中，他们——土库曼人和斯拉夫人——伴随着凄切的音乐在摇摆和轻声歌唱。
I wanted to believe in this unity. The material divide between conqueror and conquered had always been slim here，so that the poorer people，I thought，might painlessly integrate. But the Russian“s conviction of their cultural superiority，and the Turcomans”deep conservatism，①played havoc with this hope. Safar had told me that it was almost unknown for a Turcoman family to yield its daughter to a Russian man. So，as I watched，the feasting and dancing assumed the make-believe of an advertisement，and I was not surprised when the Russian guests departed early，their presence a fleeting token，while the Turcomans danced on into the night.
我想相信这种团结是真的。征服者与被征服者之间在物质上的差异在这里总是显得渺小的，所以我认为，更加贫困的人们可能会愉快地团结到一起。但俄罗斯人认定，他们的文化是优越的，而土库曼人是非常保守的，这极大地破坏了这一意愿。萨法(作者在土库曼斯坦认识的一位朋友)曾告诉我，土库曼家庭中几乎很少有人把女儿嫁给俄罗斯人。所以，正如我所看到的，这里的晚宴和舞会好似广告一样是虚假的，当俄罗斯宾客早早地离去——他们的存在转瞬即逝，而土库曼人则一直跳到深夜时，我并没有感到吃惊。
优秀英语四级美文荐读篇三英汉对照:贾平凹《丑石》
我常常遗憾我家门前的那块丑石呢：它黑黝黝地卧在那里，牛似的模样;谁也不知道是什么时候留在这里的，谁也不去理会它。只是麦收时节，门前摊了麦子，奶奶总是要说：这块丑石，多碍地面哟，多时把它搬走吧。
于是，伯父家盖房，想以它垒山墙，但苦于它极不规则，没棱角儿，也没平面儿;用堑破开吧，又懒得花那么大气力，因为河滩并不甚远，随便去掬一块回来，哪一块也比它强。
一年，来了一个石匠，为我家洗一台石磨，奶奶又说：用这块丑石吧，省得从远处搬动。石匠看了看，摇着头，嫌它石质太细，也不采用。它不像汉白玉那样的细腻，可以凿下刻字雕花，也不像大青石那样的光滑，可以供来院纱捶布;它静静地卧在那里，院边的槐荫没有庇覆它，花儿也不再在它身边生长。荒草便繁衍出来，枝蔓上下，慢慢地，竟锈上了绿苔、黑斑。我们这些做孩子的也讨厌起它夹。曾合伙要搬走它，但力气又不足;虽时时咒骂它，嫌弃它，也无可奈何，只好任它留在那里去了。稍稍能安慰我们的，是在那石上有一个不大不小的坑凹儿，雨天就盛满了水。常常雨过三天了，地上已经干燥，那石凹里水儿还有，鸡儿便去那里渴饮。每每到了十五的夜晚，我们盼着满月出来，就爬到其上，翘望天边;奶奶总是要骂的，害怕我们摔下来。果然那一次就摔了下来，磕破了我的膝盖呢。
人都骂它是丑石，它真是丑得不能再丑的丑石了。
终有一日，村子里来了一个天文学家。他在我家门前路过，突然发现了这块石头，眼光立即就拉直了。他再没有走去，就住了下来;以后又来了好些人，说这是一块陨石，从天上落下来已经有二三百年了，是一件了不起的东西。不久便来了车，小心翼翼地将它运走了。这使我们都很惊奇!这又怪又丑的石头，原来是天上的呢!它补过天，在天上发过热，闪过光，我们的先祖或许仰望过它，它给了他们光明、向往、憧憬;而它落下来了，在污土里，荒草里，一躺就是几百年了?!
奶奶说：“真看不出!它那么不一般，却怎么连墙也垒不成，台阶也垒不成呢?”
“它是太丑了。”天文学家说。
“真的，是太丑了。”
“可这正是它的美!”天文学家说，“它是以丑为美的。”
“以丑为美?”
“是的，丑到极处，便是美到极处。正因为它不是一般的顽石，当然不能去做墙，做台
阶，不能去雕刻，捶布。它不是做这些小玩意儿的，所以常常就遭到一般世俗的讥讽。“
奶奶脸红了，我也脸红了。
我感到自己的可耻，也感到了丑石的伟大;我甚至怨恨它这么多年竟会默默地忍受着这一切，而我又立即深深地感到它那种不屈于误解、寂寞的生存的伟大。
I used to feel sorry for that ugly black piece of stone lying like an ox in front of our door;none knew when it was left there and none paid any attention to it，except at the time when wheat was harvested and my grandma，seeing the grains of wheat spread all over the ground in the front yard of the house，would grumble：“This ugly stone takes so much space. Move it away someday.”
Thus my uncle had wanted to use it for the gable when he was building a house，but he was troubled to find it of very irregular shape，with no edges nor corners，nor a flat plane on it. And he wouldn‘t bother to break it in half with a chisel because the river bank was nearby，where he could have easily fetched a much better stone instead. Even when my uncle was busy with the flight of steps leading to the new house he didn’t take a fancy to the ugly stone. one year when a mason came by，we asked him to make us a stone mill with it. As my grandma put it：“Why not take this one，so you won‘t have to fetch one from afar.”But the mason took a look and shook his head：He wouldn’t take it for it was of too fine a quality.
It was not like a fine Piece of white marble on which words or flowers could be carved，nor like a smooth big bluish stone People used to wash their clothes on. The stone just lay there in silence，enjoying no shading from the Pagoda trees by the yard，nor flowers growing around it As a result weeds multiplied and stretched all over it，their stems and tendrils gradually covered with dark green spots of moss. We children began to dislike the stone too，and would have taken it away if we had been strong enough;all we could do for the present was to leave it alone，despite our disgust or even curses.
The only thing that had interested us in the ugly stone was a little pit on to P of it，which was filled with water on rainy days. Three days after a rainfall，usually，when the ground had become dry，there was still water in the pit，where chickens went to drink And every month when it came to the evening of the 15th of lunar calendar，we would climb onto the stone，looking up at the sky，hoping to see the full moon come out from far away. And Granny would give us a scolding，afraid lest we should fall down—and sure enough，I fell down once to have my knee broken. So everybody condemned the stone：an ugly stone，as ugly as it could be.
Then one day an astronomer came to the village. He looked the stone square in the eye the moment he came across it. He didn‘t take his leave but decided to stay in our village. Quite a number of people came afterwards，saying the stone was a Piece of aerolite which had fallen down from the sky two or three hundred years ago一what a wonder indeed!Pretty soon a truck came and carried it away carefully.
It gave us a great surprise!We had never expected that such a strange and ugly stone should have come from the sky!So it had once mended the sky，given out its heat and light there，and our ancestors should have looked up at it. It had given them light，brought- them hopes and expectations，and then it had fallen down to the earth，in the mud and among the weeds，lying there for hundreds of years!
My grandma said：“1 never expected it should be so great!But why can‘t People build a wall or pave steps with it?”
“It‘s too ugly，”The astronomer said.
“sure，it‘s really so ugly.”
“But that‘s just where its beauty lies!”
The astronomer said，“its beauty comes from its ugliness.”
“Beauty from ugliness?”
“Yes. When something becomes the ugliest，it turns out the most beautiful indeed. The stone is not an ordinary Piece of insensate
stone，it shouldn‘t be used to build a wall or pave the steps，to carve words or flowers or to wash clothes on. It’s not the material for those
Petty common things，and no wonder it‘s ridiculed often by people with petty common views.
My grandma became blushed，and so did I.
I feel shame while 1 feel the greatness of the ugly stone;I have even complained about it having pocketed silently all it had experienced for so many years，but again I am struck by the greatness that lies in its lonely unyielding existence of being misunderstood by people.
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