诗歌是语言高度精炼的体现,诗是文学的最高形式之一,因此在日常教学中,每一位教育工作者都喜欢引导学生用本民族语言阅读和欣赏诗歌。小编分享经典英语诗歌朗诵稿，希望可以帮助大家!

经典英语诗歌朗诵稿：Spéculation Hasardeuse

Arthur Vogelsang

No one was learning French fast.

I was learning French too slowly and

Some were learning at an average speed.

We had to learn it fast. There was a great plane

Coming for us and we had to know French

When we got on it or else.

Later we found out there was no or else.

We boarded the plane knowing an amount of French.

Enough that the others covered for me.

That was easy, I never spoke French,

I never spoke. Far up over Earth and France

Where we floated which of course was fun

In the great plane, in the great swift plane as I have said,

That high, the French spoke to us in French,

Numbers, "millième des soixante," and other manifold numbers

For hours -- division and multiplication are the hairiest,

The epitome of difficult, for a non-native speaker.

According to my character I did something else,

No counting, no speaking French. I was there

To float and study and be studied and do unmentionables

So I forgot about learning French fast and I forgot about

Their or else, I said to myself I think I am their or else.

I was not. In such a risky venture or spéculation hasardeuse

I think it was decided to include somebody not fast and not smart

Like a slow horse that keeps a posse at its safe pace, unambushed.

The endless arguments about this had been in French and English,

Back and forth endlessly they had gone at it,

So we began by trying to learn French fast.

经典英语诗歌朗诵稿：Down Unwin's Track

Alison Brackenbury

And the rain stopped. And the sky spun

past the hills' flush of winter corn.

The mare strode out as though still young.

You walked. I almost said, last year

I saw a hare run with her young

just past the broken wall, just here.

Two flew in circles. First, one rose

upon its great back legs. It boxed

at air. The second flinched, then rose.

England has blackbirds, mice. To find

these strong black shapes makes the heart race

as barley under icy wind.

Boxing is courtship, failed. One broke,

tore past us to the rough safe hedge.

She crossed the sun. Her colours woke,

ears black, back russet, earth new-laid.

Her legs stretched straight. The late showers made

bright water fly from every blade.

经典英语诗歌朗诵稿：Memorial

Dave Smith

Today on the 17th fairway I stepped over

the gutted, dried out corpse,

not quite the length of my arm once,

now more papery shell than any

fish, and yet moccasin still.

The triangular head had been halved,

a six-iron maybe, swung without thought.

Twisting tongue gone into this grass

making for the pond maybe,

that was gone too, the way words go

when we open our mouth

and try to remember what we have done.

So little of it all really matters.

Sunlight poured down its free admiration,

a scale here and there gleamed

as if a nerve had been touched again,

so we stood off even as we bent our backs

to understand more. You know, don't

you, our brains were saying, they will bite

you even when they are dead? But

look how there was an eye, a beauty.

Braided and subtle was what covered

this rippling, this surge to go over

to the side it couldn't see,

turning as the planet does, slow, sure.

Instant by instant it must have

blinked, tasted, filled itself with knowing

it would have to kill some things

to get where the future would be better.

Sometimes it would lie in the grass,

rain falling with its voice of approval,

but always the thump and rumble.

Until the dark, and then endless sun

its body would hold like a scaled straw.