爱华网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。小编精心收集了关于短篇英文诗歌带翻译，供大家欣赏学习!
关于短篇英文诗歌带翻译篇1
寄左省杜拾遗
岑参
联步趋丹陛， 分曹限紫微。
晓随天仗入， 暮惹御香归。
白发悲花落， 青云羡鸟飞。
圣朝无阙事， 自觉谏书稀。
a message to censor du fu at his office in the left court
cen can
together we officials climbed vermilion steps,
to be parted by the purple walls....
our procession, which entered the palace at dawn,
leaves fragrant now at dusk with imperial incense.
...grey heads may grieve for a fallen flower,
or blue clouds envy a lilting bird;
but this reign is of heaven, nothing goes wrong,
there have been almost no petitions.
关于短篇英文诗歌带翻译篇2
题大庾岭北驿
宋之问
阳月南飞雁， 传闻至此回。
我行殊未已， 何日复归来。
江静潮初落， 林昏瘴不开。
明朝望乡处， 应见陇头梅。
inscribed on the wall of an inn north of dayu mountain
song zhiwen
they say that wildgeese, flying southward,
here turn back, this very month....
shall my own southward journey
ever be retraced, i wonder?
...the river is pausing at ebb-tide,
and the woods are thick with clinging mist --
but tomorrow morning, over the mountain,
dawn will be white with the plum-trees of home.
关于短篇英文诗歌带翻译篇3
孤雁
崔涂
几行归塞尽， 片影独何之?
暮雨相呼失， 寒塘欲下迟。
渚云低暗渡， 关月冷相随。
未必逢矰缴， 孤飞自可疑。
a solitary wildgoose
cui tu
line after line has flown back over the border.
where are you headed all by yourself?
in the evening rain you call to them --
and slowly you alight on an icy pond.
the low wet clouds move faster than you
along the wall toward the cold moon.
...if they caught you in a net or with a shot,
would it be worse than flying alone?
关于短篇英文诗歌带翻译篇4
除夜有怀
崔涂
迢递三巴路， 羁危万里身。
乱山残雪夜， 孤独异乡春。
渐与骨肉远， 转于僮仆亲。
那堪正飘泊， 明日岁华新。
on new year's eve
cui tu
farther and farther from the three ba roads,
i have come three thousand miles, anxious and watchful,
through pale snow-patches in the jagged nightmountains --
a stranger with a lonely lantern shaken in the wind.
...separation from my kin
binds me closer to my servants --
yet how i dread, so far adrift,
new year's day, tomorrow morning!
关于短篇英文诗歌带翻译篇5
题破山寺后禅院
常建
清晨入古寺， 初日照高林。
曲径通幽处， 禅房花木深。
山光悦鸟性， 潭影空人心。
万籁此俱寂， 惟余钟磬音。
a buddhist retreat behind broken-mountain temple
chang jian
in the pure morning, near the old temple,
where early sunlight points the tree-tops,
my path has wound, through a sheltered hollow
of boughs and flowers, to a buddhist retreat.
here birds are alive with mountain-light,
and the mind of man touches peace in a pool,
and a thousand sounds are quieted
by the breathing of a temple-bell.
