关于冬天的简短英文诗
冬,就这么冷峻地沉默着,不动声色地看着曾经喧闹的色彩,雪花像棉花一样,多么的松软、多么的`美丽。接下来小编搜集了关于冬天的简短英文诗,仅供大家参考,希望帮助到大家。
In winter Snow often visits us。
My life is full of hexagon flakes。
Whenever north winds blow
I begin to expect snow
The snow that whitens the whole world,
But brings trouble to our friend bird
The trees putting on caps overnight,
The roofs covered by white blanket。
Last night came the first snow of the year;
We’re living in a new world。
At the snow my heart lept,
The snow before the door well kept。
I rode to school by bike,
Pedaled hard, but felt happier。
Some people slipped,
But no one quarrelled or cursed。
The girls play snow on the playground,
Running after one another like wild,
With gigles in their wake
Thowing snowballs they make。
I wish I were young and fast
Throwing snow to whoever runs last;
Or I could write in the snow
My beautiful lines to praise Snow
Blow, Blow, Thou Winter Wind
Poem lyrics of Blow, Blow, Thou Winter Wind by Shakespeare。
Blow, blow, thou winter wind,
Thou art not so unkind
As man's ingratitude;
Thy tooth is not so keen
Because thou art not seen,
Although thy breath be rude。
Heigh—ho! sing heigh—ho! unto the green holly:
Most friendship is feigning, most loving mere folly:
Then, heigh—ho! the holly!
This life is most jolly。
Freeze, freeze, thou bitter sky,
Thou dost not bite so nigh
As benefits forgot:
Though thou the waters warp,
Thy sting is not so sharp
As friend remember'd not。
Heigh—ho! sing heigh—ho! unto the green holly:
Most friendship is feigning, most loving mere folly:
Then, heigh—ho! the holly!
This life is most jolly。
The quivering wings of the winter ant
wait for lean winter to end。
I love you in slow, dim—witted ways,
hardly speaking, one or two words only。
What caused us to live hidden?
A wound, the wind, a word, a parent。
Sometimes we wait in a helpless way,
awkwardly, not whole and not healed。
When we hid the wound, we fell back
from a human to a shelled life。
Now we feel the ant's hard chest,
the carapace, the silent tongue。
The must be the way of the ant,
the winter ant, the way of those
who are wounded and want to live:
to breathe, to sense another, and to wait
Whose woods these are I think I know。
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow。
My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year。
He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake。
The only other sound's the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake。
The woods are lovely, dark and deep。
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep。
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