求适合在广播站英语栏目朗读的英语文章,越多越好.

求适合在广播站英语栏目朗读的英语文章,越多越好.
求适合在广播站英语栏目朗读的英语文章,越多越好.

求适合在广播站英语栏目朗读的英语文章,越多越好.
Christina Rossetti (1830-1894
　　1 A Green Cornfield
　　The earth was green, the sky was blue:
　　I saw and heard one sunny morn
　　A skylark hang betweent he two,
　　A singing speck above the corn;
　　A stage below, in gay accord,
　　White butterflies danced on the wing,
　　And still the singing skylark soared,
　　And silent sank and soared to sing.
　　The cornfield stretched a tender green
　　To right and left beside my walks;
　　I knew he had a nest unseen
　　Somewhere among the million stalks.
　　And as I paused to hear his song
　　While swift the sunny moments slid,
　　Perhaps his mate sat listening long,
　　And listened longer than I did
　　(莎士比亚）
　　2 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.
　　3The Seven Ages of Man
　　Poem lyrics of Seven Ages Of Man by William Shakespeare.
　　All the world's a stage,
　　And all the men and women merely players,
　　They have their exits and entrances,
　　And one man in his time plays many parts,
　　His acts being seven ages. At first the infant,
　　Mewling and puking in the nurse's arms.
　　Then, the whining schoolboy with his satchel
　　And shining morning face, creeping like snail
　　Unwillingly to school. And then the lover,
　　Sighing like furnace, with a woeful ballad
　　Made to his mistress' eyebrow. Then a soldier,
　　Full of strange oaths, and bearded like the pard,
　　Jealous in honour, sudden, and quick in quarrel,
　　Seeking the bubble reputation
　　Even in the cannon's mouth. And then the justice
　　In fair round belly, with good capon lin'd,
　　With eyes severe, and beard of formal cut,
　　Full of wise saws, and modern instances,
　　And so he plays his partWhen you are old
　　William Butler Yeats(1865-1939)
　　When you are old and gray and full of sleep
　　and nodding by the fire ,take down this book
　　and slowly read ,and dream the soft look
　　your eyes had once,and of their shadows deep
　　how many loved your moments of glad grace
　　and loved your beauty with love false of true
　　but one man loved the pilgrim soul in you
　　and loved the sorrow of your changing face
　　and beding down beside the glowing bars
　　murmur ,a little sadly, how love fled
　　and paced upon the mountains overhead
　　and hid his face amid a crowd of stars Rose
　　When a cloud flew from the far beyond
　　It would pour down my rose
　　At the dusk lake bank
　　Dim lights
　　Existing my lovely rose
　　A soft walk,a deep breath
　　Along with my sleeping rose
　　A long warm kiss
　　What I could swallow
　　My rose
　　a red,red rose
　　robert burns
　　红玫瑰
　　罗伯特·彭斯
　　o my luve's like a red,red rose
　　that's newly spring in june:
　　o my luve's like the melodie
　　that's sweetly play'd tune.
　　as fair art thou,my bonnie lass.
　　so deep in luve am i:
　　and i will luve thee still,my dear,
　　till a'the seas gang dry.
　　till a'the seas gang dry,my dear,
　　and the rocks melt wi'the sun;
　　o i will luve thee still, my dear,
　　while the sands o'life shall run.
　　and fare thee week,my onlu luve!
　　and fare thee awhile!
　　and i will come again,my luve,
　　tho'it were ten thousand mile.
　　吾爱吾爱玫瑰红,
　　六月初开韵晓风；
　　吾爱吾爱如管弦,
　　其声悠扬而玲珑.
　　吾爱吾爱美而珠,
　　我心爱你永不渝,
　　我心爱你永不渝,
　　直到四海海水枯；
　　直到四海海水枯,
　　岩石融化变成泥,
　　只要我还有口气,
　　我心爱你永不渝.
　　暂时告别我心肝,
　　请你不要把心耽!
　　纵使相隔十万里,
　　踏穿地皮也要还.
　　First Love
　　Wislawa Szymborska
　　Translated from the Polish by
　　Clare Cavanagh and Stanislaw Baranczak
　　Monologue of a Dog
　　Harcourt, Inc.
　　Source from:http://www.poems.com
　　They say
　　the first love's most important.
　　That's very romantic,
　　but not my experience.
　　Something was and wasn't there between us,
　　something went on and went away.
　　My hands never tremble
　　when I stumble on silly keepsakes
　　and a sheaf of letters tied with string
　　— not even ribbon.
　　Our only meeting after years:
　　two chairs chatting
　　at a chilly table.
　　Other loves
　　still breathe deep inside me.
　　This one's too short of breath even to sigh.
　　Yet just exactly as it is,
　　it does what the others still can't manage:
　　unremembered,
　　not even seen in dreams,
　　it introduces me to death.