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著名英文诗歌 篇一

Kubla Khan

Samuel Taylor Coleridge

忽必烈汗

塞缪尔·泰勒·柯勒律治

In Xanadu did Kubla Khan

忽必列汗在上都曾经

A stately pleasure-dome decree:

下令造一座堂皇的安乐殿堂:

Where Alph, the sacrecl river, ran

这地方有圣河亚佛流奔，

Through caverns measureless to man

穿过深不可测的洞门，

Down to a sunless sea.

直流入不见阳光的海洋。

So twice five miles of fertile ground

有方圆五英里肥沃的土壤，

With walls and towers were girdled round:

四周给围上楼塔和城墙:

And there were gardens bright with sinuous rills,

那里有花园，蜿蜒的溪河在其间闪耀，

Where blossomed many an incense-bearing tree;

园里树枝上鲜花盛开，一片芬芳；

And here were forests ancient as the hills,

这里有森林，跟山峦同样古老，

Enfolding sunny spots of greenery.

围住了洒满阳光的一块块青草草场。

But oh! that deep romantic chasm which slanted

但是，啊！那深沉而奇异的巨壑，

Down the green hill athwart a cedarn cover!

沿青山斜裂，横过伞盖的柏树！

A savage place! as holy and enchanted

野蛮的地方，既神圣而又着了魔

As e'er beneath a waning moon was haunted

好像有女人在衰落的月色里出没，

By woman wailing for her demon-lover!

为她的魔鬼情郎而凄声嚎哭！

And from this chasm, with ceaseless turmoil seething,

巨壑下，不绝的喧嚣在沸腾汹涌，

As if this earth in fast thick pants were breathing,

似乎这土地正喘息在快速而猛烈的悸动中，

A mighty fountain momently was forced:

从这巨壑里，不断迸出股猛烈的地泉；

Amid whose swift half- intermitted burst

在它那断时续的涌迸之间，

Huge fragments vaulted like rebounding hail,

巨大的石块飞跃着象反跳的冰雹，

Or chaffy grain beneath the thresher's flail:

或者象打稻人连枷下一撮撮新稻；

And'mid these dancing rocks at once and ever

从这些舞蹈的岩石中，

It flung up momently the sacred river.

时时刻刻 迸发出那条神圣的溪河。

Five miles meandering with a mazy motion

迷乱地移动着，蜿蜒了五英里地方，

Through wood and dale the sacred river ran,

那神圣的溪河流过了峡谷和森林，

Then reached the caverns measureless to man,

于是到达了深不可测的洞门，

And sank in tumult to a lifeless ocean:

在喧嚣中沉入了没有生命的海洋；

And ‘mid this tumult Kubla heard from far

从那喧嚣中忽必列远远听到

Ancestral voices prophesying war!

祖先的喊声预言着战争的凶兆！

The shadow of the dome of pleasure

安乐的宫殿有倒影，

Floated midway on the waves;

宛在水波的中央漂动；

Where was heard the mingled measure

这儿能听见和谐的音韵

From the fountain and the caves.

来自那地泉和那岩洞。

It was a miracle of rare device,

这是个奇迹呀，算得是稀有的技巧，

A sunny pleasure-dome with caves of ice!

阳光灿烂的安乐宫，

A damsel with a dulcimer

连同那雪窟冰窖！

In a vision once I saw:

有一回我在幻象中见到，

It was an Abyssinian maid,

那是个阿比西尼亚少女，

And on her dulcimer she played,

在她的琴上她奏出乐曲，

Singing of Mount Abora.

歌唱着阿伯若山。

Could I revive within me

如果我心中能再度产生

Her symphony and song,

她的音乐和歌唱，

To such a deep delight ‘twould wiff me,

我将被引入如此深切的欢欣，

That with music loud and long,

以至于我要用音乐高朗而又长久

I would build that dome in air,

在空中建造那安乐宫廷，

That sunny dome! those caves of ice!

阳光照临的宫廷，那雪窟冰窖！

And all who heard should see them there,

那谁都能见到这宫殿，

And all should cry, “Beware! Beware!

只要听见了乐音。 他们全都会喊叫:当心！当心！

His flashing eyes, his floating hair!

他飘动的头发，他闪光的眼睛！

Weave a circle round himthrice,

织一个圆圈，把他三道围住，

And close your eyes with holy dread,

闭下你两眼，带着神圣的恐惧，

For he on honey-dew hath fed,

因为他一直吃着蜜样甘露，

And drunk the milk of Paradise.

一直饮着天堂的琼浆仙乳。

著名英文诗歌 篇二

Old Black Joe

Stephen Collins. Foster

老黑乔

史蒂芬·柯林斯·福斯特

Gone are the days when my heart was young and gay;

那些心头年轻、无忧无虑的日子已离我远去

Gone are my friends from the cotton fields away;

我的伙伴也离开了棉花田

Gone from the earth to a better land I know,

离开这里到一个更好的地方，我知道

I hear their gentle voices calling, “Old Black Joe!”

我听见他们柔声呼唤

I’m coming, I’m coming, for my head is bending low;

我来了，我来了，因为我的头渐渐低垂；

I hear their gentle voices calling,

我听见他们柔声呼唤

“Old Black Joe!”

老黑乔！

Why do I weep when my heart should feel no pain?

我为何哭泣，我心并不悲伤？

Why do I sigh that my friends come not again?

我为何要叹息伙伴不复来？

Grieving for forms now departed long ago,

只为怀念早已逝去的人，

I hear their gentle voices calling,

我听见他们柔声呼唤

“Old Black Joe!”

老黑乔！

Where are thee hearts once so happy and so free?

昔日快乐无羁的人们，如今安在？

The children so dear that I held upon my knee?

还有，我抱在膝上可爱的小家伙？

Gone to the shore where my soul has longed to go,

他们都已到了我灵魂所渴望去的海岸，

I hear their gentle voices calling,

我听见他们柔声呼唤

“Old Black Joe!”

老黑乔！

著名英文诗歌 篇三

After Apple-Picking

Robert Frost

摘苹果后

罗伯特·福罗斯特

My long two-pointed ladder's sticking through a tree

长梯穿过树顶，竖起两个尖端

Toward heaven still.

刺向沉静的天穹。

And there's a barrel that I didn't fill

梯子脚下，有一只木桶，

Beside it, and there may be two or three

我还没把它装满，还有两三个

Apples I didn't pick upon some bough.

苹果留在枝头，我还没摘下。

But I am done with apple-picking now.

但是我已把摘苹果这活干完了。

Essence of winter sleep is on the night,

四处弥漫着冬眠的气息。

The scent of apples; I am drowsing off.

那扑鼻的苹果香：我醺醺欲睡。

I cannot rub the strangeness from my sight

我揉揉眼睛，却揉不掉眼前的奇观。

I got from looking through a pane of glass

那是我透过早晨从饮水槽里。

I skimmed this morning from the drinking trough,

捞起的一片冰晶看到的。

And held against the world of hoary grass.

一个霜浓草衰的世界。

It melted, and I let it fall and break.

冰溶了，我由它掉下。碎掉。

But I was well

可是它还没落地，

Upon my way to sleep before it fell,

我却几乎坠入梦乡。

And I could tell,

我还能说出，

What form my dreaming was about to take.

我的梦境是什么样。

Magnified apples appear and disappear,

膨胀得硕大无比的苹果，忽隐忽现，

Stem end and blossom end,

一头是枝茎，一头是花朵，

And every fleck of russet showing clear.

每个红褐色的斑点，都清晰可见。

My instep arch not only keeps the ache,

我的脚底不仅忍受酸疼的折磨。

It keeps the pressure of a ladder-round.

而且还得经受梯子档的分量，

I feel the ladder sway as the boughs bend,

随着树枝摇晃，

And I keep hearing from the cellar-bin.

我觉得梯子也不停晃悠，轰隆隆的声响。

That rumbling sound,

我听到地窖里不时传出，

Of load on load of apples coming in.

苹果一桶桶地往地窖里送。

For I have had too much,

因为摘了那么多，

Of apple-picking; I am overtired，

苹果，我感到筋疲力尽。

Of the great harvest I myself desired.

尽管我一直盼望这样的好收成。

There were ten thousand thousand fruit to touch,

千万个苹果要去采摘，

Cherish in hand, lift down, and not let fall,

要珍放在手中，轻轻放下，不能掉地，

For all

因为所有的苹果

That struck the earth,

只要一掉地，

No matter if not bruised, or spiked with stubble,

即使没碰伤，也没叫草梗扎破，

Went surely to the cider-apple heap

也准会堆在一边酿酒。

As of no worth.

仿佛毫无价值。

One can see what will trouble，

你能看到是什么在扰乱，

This sleep of mine, whatever sleep it is.

我的睡眠，不管这是否算得上睡觉。

Were he not gone,

倘若土拨鼠尚未离开，

The woodchuck could say whether it's like his

在听了我对睡梦的这番描述后，

Long sleep, as I describe its coming on,

它准会说这有点像它的冬眠，

Or just some human sleep.

或者说，这不过是人类的冬眠。

著名英文诗歌 篇四

Death Be Not Proud

John Donne

死神，你莫骄傲

约翰-多恩

Death be not proud, though some have called thee

死神，你莫骄傲，尽管有人说你

Mighty and dreadful, for, thou art not so,

如何强大，如何可怕，你并不是这样；

For, those, whom thou think'st, thou dost overthrow,

你以为你把谁谁谁打倒了，其实，

Die not, poor death, nor yet canst thou kill me;

可怜的死神，他们没死；你现在也还杀不死我。

From rest and sleep, which but thy pictures be,

休息、睡眠，这些不过是你的写照，

Much pleasure, then from thee, much more must flow,

既能给人享受，那你本人提供的一定更多；

And soonest our best men with thee do go,

我们最美好的人随你去得越早，

Rest of their bones, and soul's delivery.

越能早日获得身体的休息，灵魂的解脱。

Thou art slave to fate, chance, kings, and desperate men,

你是命运、机会、君主、亡命徒的奴隶，

And dost with poison, war, and sickness dwell,

你和毒药、战争、疾病同住在一起，

And poppy, or charms can make us sleep as well,

罂粟和咒符和你的打击相比，同样，

And better than thy stroak;why swell'st thou then?

甚至更能催我入睡；那你何必趾高气扬呢？

One short sleep past, we wake eternally,

睡了一小觉之后，我们便永远觉醒了，

And death shall be no more; Death, thou shalt die.

再也不会有死亡，你死神也将死去。

著名英文诗歌 篇五

Ode on a Grecian Urn

John Keats

希腊古瓮颂

约翰·济慈

THOU still unravish'd bride of quietness,

你委身“寂静”的、完美的处子，

Thou foster-child of Silence and slow Time,

受过了“沉默”和“悠久”的抚育，

Sylvan historian, who canst thus express

呵，田园的史家，

A flowery tale more sweetly than our rhyme:

你竟能铺叙一个如花的故事，比诗还瑰丽:

What leaf-fringed legend haunts about thy shape

在你的形体上，岂非缭绕着古老的传说，

Of deities or mortals, or of both,

以绿叶为其边缘；

In Tempe or the dales of Arcady?

讲着人，或神，敦陂或阿卡狄？

What men or gods are these? What maidens loth?

呵，是怎样的人，或神！

What mad pursuit? What struggle to escape?

在舞乐前多热烈的追求！少女怎样地逃躲！

What pipes and timbrels? What wild ecstasy?

怎样的风笛和鼓谣！怎样的狂喜！

Heard melodies are sweet, but those unheard

听见的乐声虽好，但若听不见却更美；

Are sweeter; therefore, ye soft pipes, play on;

所以，吹吧，柔情的风笛；

Not to the sensual ear, but, more endear'd,

不是奏给耳朵听，而是更甜，

Pipe to the spirit ditties of no tone:

它给灵魂奏出无声的乐曲；

Fair youth, beneath the trees, thou canst not leave

树下的美少年呵，你无法中断你的歌，

Thy song, nor ever can those trees be bare;

那树木也落不了叶子；

Bold Lover, never, never canst thou kiss,

卤莽的恋人，你永远、永远吻不上，

Though winning near the goal—yet, do not grieve;

虽然够接近了——但不必心酸；

She cannot fade, though thou hast not thy bliss,

她不会老，虽然你不能如愿以偿，

For ever wilt thou love, and she be fair!

你将永远爱下去，她也永远秀丽！

Ah, happy, happy boughs! that cannot shed

呵，幸福的树木！

Your leaves, nor ever bid the Spring adieu;

你的枝叶不会剥落，从不曾离开春天；

And, happy melodist, unwearièd,

幸福的吹笛人也不会停歇，

For ever piping songs for ever new;

他的歌曲永远是那么新鲜；

More happy love! more happy, happy love!

呵，更为幸福的、幸福的爱！

For ever warm and still to be enjoy'd,

永远热烈，正等待情人宴飨，

For ever panting, and for ever young;

永远热情地心跳，永远年轻；

All breathing human passion far above,

幸福的是这一切超凡的情态:

That leaves a heart high-sorrowful and cloy'd,

它不会使心灵餍足和悲伤，

A burning forehead, and a parching tongue.

没有炽热的头脑，焦渴的嘴唇。

Who are these coming to the sacrifice?

这些人是谁呵，都去赶祭祀？

To what green altar, O mysterious priest,

这作牺牲的小牛，对天鸣叫，

Lead'st thou that heifer lowing at the skies,

你要牵它到哪儿，神秘的祭司？

And all her silken flanks with garlands drest?

花环缀满着它光滑的身腰。

What little town by river or sea-shore,

是从哪个傍河傍海的小镇，

Or mountain-built with peaceful citadel,

或哪个静静的堡寨山村，

Is emptied of its folk, this pious morn?

来了这些人，在这敬神的清早？

And, little town, thy streets for evermore

呵，小镇，你的街道永远恬静；

Will silent be; and not a soul, to tell

再也不可能回来一个灵魂告诉人，

Why thou art desolate, can e'er return.

你何以是这么寂寥。

O Attic shape! fair attitude! with brede

哦，希腊的形状！唯美的观照！

Of marble men and maidens overwrought,

哦，希腊的形状！唯美的观照！

With forest branches and the trodden weed;

上面缀有石雕的男人和女人，还有林木，和践踏过的青草；

Thou, silent form! dost tease us out of thought

沉默的形体呵，你象是“永恒”使人超越思想:

As doth eternity: Cold Pastoral!

呵，冰冷的牧歌！

When old age shall this generation waste,

等暮年使这一世代都凋落，只有你如旧；

Thou shalt remain, in midst of other woe

在另外的一些忧伤中，

Than ours, a friend to man, to whom thou say'st,

你会抚慰后人说:

'Beauty is truth, truth beauty,—that is all

“美即是真，真即是美，”

Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know.

这就包括你们所知道、和该知道的一切。

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