英文短文美文欣赏 关于花的英文美文欣赏

女性对于花有一种天然的情愫,花对于女性艺术家更是有着特别的意义,她们对花情有独钟,用自己独特的艺术语言构建了一个“花的世界”,在她们的这个世界中,花被赋予了丰富的精神内涵。下面是小编带来的关于花的英文美文欣赏,欢迎阅读!

关于花的英文美文欣赏篇一

花之歌

I am a kind word uttered and repeated

By the voice of Nature;

I am a star fallen from the

Blue tent upon the green carpet.

I am the daughter of the elements

With whom Winter conceived;

To whom Spring gave birth; I was

Reared in the lap of Summer and I

Slept in the bed of Autumn.

我是大自然亲切的话语,

说出去,又反复细念;

我是一颗星星,

从蓝色苍穹坠落绿毯之中。

我是诸元素之女:

冬天将我孕育;

春天使我绽放;

夏天让我成长;

秋天令我安睡。

At dawn I unite with the breeze

To announce the coming of light;

At eventide I join the birds

In bidding the light farewell.

清早,我同晨风一道

宣告光明的到来;

傍晚,我又与群鸟一起

为它的远去告别。

The plains are decorated with

My beautiful color and the air

Is scented with my fragrance.

我在原野上摇曳,

使风光更加旖旎;

我在清风中呼吸,

使气息芬芳馥郁。

As I embrace Slumber the eyes of

Night watch over me, and as I

Awaken I stare at the sun, which is

The only eye of the day.

我微睡时,

夜空数双眼睛对我凝望;

我醒来时,

白昼的独眸向我注视。

I drink dew for wine, and hearken to

The voices of the bird and dance

To the rhythmic swaying of the grass.

我饮着朝露酿成的琼浆;

听着小鸟的鸣啭歌唱;

就着芳草的摇曳婆娑起舞。

I am the lover's gift; I am the wedding wreath;

I am the memory of a moment of happiness;

I am the last gift of the living to the dead;

I am a part of joy and a part of sorrow.

我是爱人间的赠礼;我是婚礼的冠冕;

我是片刻欢愉的记忆;

我是生者予死者最后的祭献;

我是一半欢乐,一半忧伤。

But I look up high to see only the light,

And never look down to see my shadow.

This is wisdom which man must learn.

而我仰望高空,只因对光明神往;

我从不顾影自怜,也不孤芳自赏。

而这些智慧,人类尚未得以领会。

关于花的英文美文欣赏篇二

大自然在说话Nature Is Speaking

I am a flower.

我是花。

Yes, I'm beautiful. I've heard it before and it never grows old.

是的,我很美。人们常这么说,而且从来不会变老。

I'm worshiped for my looks, my scent, my looks.

英文短文美文欣赏 关于花的英文美文欣赏

人们崇拜我的长相,我的气味,我的容貌。

But here's the thing. Life starts with me.

但是事情是这样的,生活由我而起。

You see I feed people. Every fruit comes from me.

你看,我在哺育人类。每个水果来自于我。

Every potato. Me.

每个土豆,来自于我。

Every kernel of corn. Me. Every grain of rice. Me.

每粒玉米,来自于我。每颗麦子也来自于我。

Me, me, me, I know. But it's true.

我,我,我,我知道,但这是真的。

And sometimes I feed their souls.

有时人类的心灵也会需要我。

I am their words when they have none.

当你无法表达时候,我可以帮你说出。

I say “I love you,” without a sound. “I'm sorry,” without a voice.

我说“我爱你”不带一个声响。“我很抱歉,”没有一个声音。

I inspire the greatest of them.

我是启发伟人的源泉。

Painters, poets, pattern makers. I've been a muse to them all.

画家,诗人,模型师。我一直是他们的缪斯。

But in my experience, people underestimate the power of a pretty little flower.

但以我的经验,人们低估了一朵漂亮小花的力量。

Because their life does start with me and it could end without me.

因为他们的生活确实由我而起,也可以由我而终。

关于花的英文美文欣赏篇三

公车上的鲜花

33年的前的那个夏季,每天我们混迹在各色人中等待公车的到来。一大清早我们就从郊区开始坐车,我们把衣领高竖到耳朵上,懒洋洋的坐在那,一群沉闷的,没有言语的人。

We were a very motley crowd of people who took the bus every day that summer 33 years ago. During the early morning ride from the suburb, we sat drowsily with our collars up to our ears, a cheerless and taciturn bunch.

其中的一个乘客是个无名小卒,他每天乘车前往老年人中心。他行走时驼着背,表情悲伤。当他艰难地上了公车,独自做到驾驶员身后的座位上时,很少有人过多的注意到他。

One of the passengers was a small grey man who took the bus to the centre for senior citizens every morning. He walked with a stoop and a sad look on his face when he, with some difficulty, boarded the bus and sat down alone behind the driver. No one ever paid very much attention to him.

然而七月的一个早晨,他向驾驶员问好并且在他坐下来之前微笑着环视了一下公车里的乘客。司机礼貌的点点头,我们依然沉默的坐着,没有反应。

Then one July morning he said good morning to the driver and smiled short-sightedly down through the bus before he sat down. The driver nodded guardedly. The rest of us were silent.

第二天,那个老人精力充沛的上了公车,微笑着大声的说:“各位早上好啊!”一些人慢慢的抬起头觉得很奇怪,有些人嘀咕着小声回应着:“早上好!”

The next day, the old man boarded the bus energetically, smiled and said in a loud voice: "And a very good morning to you all!" Some of us looked up, amazed, and murmured "Good morning," in reply.

接下来的几周我们更震惊了。我们的朋友现在穿着体面的一个旧外套和一个过时的宽领带。稀疏的头发也是精心梳理的。他每天向我们问好,我们也逐渐的互相点头致意,相互交谈起来了。

The following weeks we were more alert. Our friend was now dressed in a nice old suit and a wide out-of-date tie. The thin hair had been carefully combed. He said good morning to us every day and we gradually began to nod and talk to each other.

一天早晨他手里拿着一束野花。因为炎热,他们都抓着吊环站着。司机转过头来笑着问道:“查理,你有女朋友了吗?”我们从来也不知道他的真名是不是叫查理,但是他害羞的点点头说:“是的。”

One morning he had a bunch of wild flowers in his hand. They were already dangling a little because of the heat. The driver turned around smilingly and asked: "Have you got yourself a girlfriend, Charlie?" We never got to know if his name really was "Charlie", but he nodded shyly and said yes.

其他的乘客兴奋的吹着口哨,拍打着他。查理鞠躬以示感谢,他挥舞着鲜花坐到了他的位子上。

The other passengers whistled and clapped at him. Charlie bowed and waved the flowers before he sat down on his seat.

从那天早晨以后,查理总是带着一束花。常乘这趟车的一些人也开始带些花给老人,让他的花束更艳丽,他们绅士的推着老人,羞赧的说:“给你”。每个人都面带笑容。人们开始拿这事开玩笑,互相唠着并分享自己的报纸。

Every morning after that Charlie always brought a flower. Some of the regular passengers began bringing him flowers for his bouquet, gently nudged him and said shyly: "Here." Everyone smiled. The men started to jest about it, talk to each other, and share the newspaper.

夏去秋来,当有一天清晨查理没有在他通常的站点等候。当第二天和以后的日子里查理都没有出现的时候,我们禁不住去想:他是不是病了或者我们更希望他在某个地方度假呢。

The summer went by, and autumn was closing in, when one morning Charlie wasn't waiting at his usual stop. When he wasn't there the next day and the day after that, we started wondering if he was sick or -- hopefully -- on holiday somewhere.

当我们来到老年人中心附近的时候,一个乘客让司机停下来等一下。当她走向门口的时候我们都摒住了呼吸。

When we came nearer to the centre for senior citizens, one of the passengers asked the driver to wait. We all held our breaths when she went to the door.

老年中心的职员告诉我们说他知道我们说的人是谁。那个老绅士是个好人,但那周他一直没有来过。他的一个很亲密的朋友在周末的时候去世了。他们期待着他周一会来。接下来的路上我们是如此的沉静。

Yes, the staff said, they knew who we were talking about. The elderly gentleman was fine, but he hadn't been coming to the centre that week. One of his very close friends had died at the weekend. They expected him back on Monday. How silent we were the rest of the way to work.

下周一的时候,查理等候在站点上,背看上去更加的驼了,脸色灰暗,也没有戴领带。他看上去一下子又缩小回去了。公车上一下子跟教堂似的静悄悄的。我们尽管没有人谈论他,那个夏天他给我们的记忆却挥之不去。我们手拿鲜花,眼含泪水坐在公车上。

The next Monday Charlie was waiting at the stop, stooping a bit more, a little bit more grey, and without a tie. He seemed to have shrinked again. Inside the bus was a silence akin to that in a church. Even though no one had talked about it, all those of us, who he had made such an impression on that summer, sat with our eyes filled with tears and a bunch of wild flowers in our hands.

  

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