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描寫(xiě)秋天的英文詩(shī)歌

時(shí)間:2024-10-12 11:42:37 煒玲 學(xué)人智庫(kù) 我要投稿
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描寫(xiě)秋天的英文詩(shī)歌(精選10首)

  詩(shī)歌是語(yǔ)言的精髓,是最古老、最具文學(xué)特質(zhì)的文學(xué)形式。英語(yǔ)詩(shī)歌以其特有的格律與韻律向世人突顯了其獨(dú)特的音樂(lè)美。小編整理了描寫(xiě)秋天的英文詩(shī)歌,歡迎閱讀!

描寫(xiě)秋天的英文詩(shī)歌(精選10首)

  描寫(xiě)秋天的英文詩(shī)歌 1

  《秋季火災(zāi)》

  by Robert Louis Stevenson

  In the other gardens

  And all up the vale,

  From the autumn bonfires

  See the smoke trail!

  Pleasant summer over

  And all the summer flowers,

  The red fire blazes,

  The grey smoke towers.

  Sing a song of seasons!

  Something bright in all!

  Flowers in the summer,

  Fires in the fall!

  描寫(xiě)秋天的英文詩(shī)歌 2

  《秋之歌》

  Autumn is a time of mists and mellow fruitfulness,

  Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun,

  Conspiring with him how to load and bless

  With fruit the vines that round the thatched cottage.

  描寫(xiě)秋天的英文詩(shī)歌 3

  《秋月》

  The moon is in the sky,

  So bright and so high.

  It shines on the trees,

  And makes them look like silver.

  The moon is in the water,

  So clear and so still.

  It shines on the fish,

  And makes them look like jewels.

  描寫(xiě)秋天的英文詩(shī)歌 4

  《秋》

  The leaves are brown,

  The sky is gray,

  The days are short,

  The nights are long.

  The air is cold,

  The wind is strong.

  Autumn is here,

  And it wont be long.

  樹(shù)葉是棕色的',

  天空是灰色的,

  白天變短了,

  夜晚變長(zhǎng)了。

  空氣很冷,

  風(fēng)很大。

  秋天來(lái)了,

  不會(huì)太久了。

  描寫(xiě)秋天的英文詩(shī)歌 5

  《秋日》

  I like to walk in the autumn,

  When the leaves are turning brown.

  I like to feel the cool wind,

  Blow my face and blow my hair.

  I like to see the squirrels,

  Jump from tree to tree.

  I like to hear the birds,

  Sing their songs to me.

  I like to pick the apples,

  From the trees so red and round.

  I like to taste the cider,

  That is so sweet and so good.

  描寫(xiě)秋天的英文詩(shī)歌 6

  《秋思》

  The autumn leaves are falling,

  Like a million golden dreams.

  They float upon the breezes,

  And dance upon the streams.

  The autumn days are shortening,

  And the nights are growing cold.

  But in my heart theres a fire,

  That burns with a feverish hold.

  I think of you in the autumn,

  When the leaves are turning red.

  I think of you in the moonlight,

  And the stars are shining overhead.

  I long to hold you in my arms,

  And feel your love so true.

  I long to kiss your lips so sweet,

  And taste the nectar of you.

  描寫(xiě)秋天的英文詩(shī)歌 7

  《秋之歌》

  Autumn is a time of mists and mellow fruitfulness,

  Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun,

  Conspiring with him how to load and bless

  With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eves run.

  To bend with apples the mossd cottage-trees,

  And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core;

  To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells

  With a sweet kernel; to set budding more,

  And still more, later flowers for the bees,

  Until they think warm days will never cease,

  For summer has oer-brimmd their clammy cells.

  Who hath not seen thee oft amid thy store?

  Sometimes whoever seeks abroad may find

  Thee sitting careless on a granary floor,

  Thy hair soft-lifted by the winnowing wind;

  Or on a half-reapd furrow sound asleep,

  Drowsd with the fume of poppies, while thy hook

  Spares the next swath and all its twined flowers.

  And sometimes like a gleaner thou dost keep

  Steady thy laden head across a brook;

  Or by a cyder-press, with patient look,

  Thou watchest the last oozings hours by hours.

  Where are the songs of spring? Ay, where are they?

  Think not of them, thou hast thy music too,--

  While barred clouds bloom the soft-dying day,

  And touch the stubble-plains with rosy hue;

  Then in a wailful choir the small gnats mourn

  Among the river sallows, borne aloft

  Or sinking as the light wind lives or dies;

  And full-grown lambs loud bleat from hilly bourn;

  Hedge-crickets sing; and now with treble soft

  The redbreast whistles from a garden-croft;

  And gathering swallows twitter in the skies.

  描寫(xiě)秋天的英文詩(shī)歌 8

  《秋》

  The mists and vapors of the autumn days

  Rolld on the village like a living thing;

  And through the roofs, with many a rifted rent,

  The moons white light came stealing, and was spent.

  The forest, like a vast amphitheatre,

  Rose in wild terraces of mingled green

  And autumn brown, and with a purple sheen

  Of far-heard wood-notes wild and sweet and clear.

  The unimagined beauty of the world

  Rose on my sight like music on the air;

  And all the garnered stores of summers hours

  Were in its beams like garnered sheaves of corn.

  And like a dream that comes with sound of bells

  Across the meadows of the spirits sleep,

  The vision of the unimagined years

  Rose on my mind like words of prophets old.

  描寫(xiě)秋天的英文詩(shī)歌 9

  《秋日》

  The leaves are falling, falling as from a tree,

  And in the wood, the autumn sun is warm and low;

  The south wind blows, and on the ground I see

  The withered leaves a-rolling to and fro.

  The wayside flowers are withering one by one,

  And in the grass the last red berries shine;

  The thistle-down is sailing in the air alone,

  And on the hedge the woodbines berries twine.

  The autumn days are shortening and the nights are long,

  And in the meadows far and near the reapers sing;

  The corn is ripe, and in the fields theyre bound to reap it,

  And in the barns theyre storing up the yellow grain.

  The birds are flying to the south in troops and companies,

  And in the sky the wild geese honk and cry;

  The foxes come from out the woods to steal the chickens,

  And in the lanes the traveller plods along.

  The autumn days are over, and the winter comes,

  And in the house the fires are burning bright;

  The children sit around the hearth and tell

  Of Jack Frost and the North Winds spite.

  描寫(xiě)秋天的英文詩(shī)歌 10

  《秋》

  The leaves are yellow,

  The nuts are brown,

  The sky is blue,

  And the days are getting colder.

  The geese are flying south,

  The pumpkins are growing fat,

  The apples are red,

  And the cider is ready to drink.

  The corn is in the bin,

  The hay is in the loft,

  The harvest is done,

  And the winter is coming soon.

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