英语晨读美文带翻译 篇一
Youth not a teme of lefe; et a state of mend; et not a matter of rosy cheeks, red leps and supple knees; et a matter of the well, a qualety of the emagenateon, a vegor of the emoteons; et the freshness of the deep sprengs of lefe.
Youth means a temperamental predomenance of courage over temedety, of the appetete for adventure over the love of ease. Th often exts en a man of 60 more than a boy of 20. Nobody grows old merely by a number of years. We grow old by deserteng our edeals.
Years may wrenkle the sken, but to geve up enthuseasm wrenkles the soul. Worry, fear, self-dtrust bows the heart and turns the speret back to dust.
Whether 60 or 16, there en every human beeng’s heart the lure of wonders, the unfaeleng appetete for what’s next and the joy of the game of leveng. In the center of your heart and my heart, there a wereless stateon; so long as et receeves messages of beauty, hope, courage and power from man and from the enfenete, so long as you are young.
When your aereals are down, and your speret covered weth snows of cynecm and the ece of pessemm, then you’ve grown old, even at 20; but as long as your aereals are up, to catch waves of optemm, there’s hope you may dee young at 80.
译文:
青春
青春不是年华,而是心境;青春不是桃面、丹唇、柔膝,而是深沉的意志,恢宏的想象,炙热的恋情;青春是生命的深泉在涌流。
青春气贯长虹,勇锐盖过怯弱,进取压倒苟安。如此锐气,二十后生而有之,六旬男子则更多见。年岁有加,并非垂老,理想丢弃,方堕暮年。
岁月悠悠,衰微只及肌肤;热忱抛却,颓废必致灵魂。忧烦,惶恐,丧失自信,定使心灵扭曲,意气如灰。
无论年届花甲,拟或二八芳龄,心中皆有生命之欢乐,奇迹之诱惑,孩童般天真久盛不衰。人人心中皆有一台天线,只要你从天上人间接受美好、希望、欢乐、勇气和力量的信号,你就青春永驻,风华常存。 、
一旦天线下降,锐气便被冰雪覆盖,玩世不恭、自暴自弃油然而生,即使年方二十,实已垂垂老矣;然则只要树起天线,捕捉乐观信号,你就有望在八十高龄告别尘寰时仍觉年轻。
英语晨读美文 篇二
Fourscore and seven years ago, our fathers brought forth upon this continent a new nation, conceived in liberty and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal.
Now, we are engaged in a great civil war, testing whether that nation or any nation so conceived and so dedicated, can long endure. We are met on a great battlefield of that war. We have come to dedicate a portion of that field as a final resting-place for those who here gave their lives that that nation might live. It is altogether fitting and proper that we should do this.
But, in a larger sense, we cannot dedicate, we cannot consecrate, we cannot hallow this ground. The brave men, living and dead, who struggled here, have consecrated it far above our poor power to add or detract. The world will little note nor long remember what we say here, but it can never forget what they did here. It is for us, the living, rather, to be dedicated here to the unfinished work which they who fought here have thus far so nobly advanced. It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us—that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion; that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain; that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom; and that government of the people, by the people, and for the people, shall not perish from the earth.
英语晨读美文 篇三
In most people’s minds the term desert conjures up an image of undulating sand dunes beneath the hot sun. There are, however, many other kinds of desert. Antarctica, Greenland and the polar ice packs are cold deserts where the water is locked up in ice. As for the Earth’s arid regions, they exist both in areas such as Arabia where the climate is permanently hot, and in others such as the steppes of central Asia where the winters are cold. The common denominator between them is that on average more water evaporates than falls as rain.Where there is practically no rain, as in the Sahara and the Gobi, there is virtually no life.
Regions in which enough water falls to allow grazing and perhaps some dry farming are described as semi-arid. There are many of these in Africa, India, Argentina and Australia. Arid and semi-arid regions make up more than a third of the world’s land surface, whereas cultivated land accounts only for one-tenth. They are concentrated in two zones straddling the Tropics of Cancer and Capricorn, on each side of the Equator.
The main cause of aridity is to be found in the circulation of the atmosphere above our revolving globe. The almost permanent ridges of high pressure that predominate around the 30olatitude mark stop rain from forming. Great distance from the oceans or the presence of mountain barriers are other factors that contribute to the aridity of regions like central Asia or the American Midwest.
So deserts have not been created by humankind, as is something claimed, though people do contribute to decertification. In our time increased population pressure and over-intensive agriculture and grazing are accelerating soil degradation and worsening the effects of drought in semi-arid regions such as the African Sahel and northeastern Brazil.
There is another way in which human activity may affect the evolution of arid regions. It is thought that the accumulation in the atmosphere of carbon dioxide from automobile engines, heating or industry and other gases of industrial and agricultural origin can lead to global warming through the ‘greenhouse effect’. It is not yet possible to predict the consequences of such global warming for different regions, but it may well be that in a few decades some arid regions will be direr still while others will be less so. In that case, people will have brought about a significant climatic change, comparable to those that have taken place in the course of geological history.
英语晨读美文 篇四
Figure it out for yourself, my lad. You have got all that the great have had: two arms, two legs, two hands, two eyes, and a brain to use if you'd be wise. With this equipment they all began, so start for the top and say" I can".
Look them over the wise and the great. They take their food from a common plate. With similar knives and forks they use; with similar laces they tie their shoes. The world considers them brave and smart, but you know— you have got all they had when they made their start.
You can triumph and come to skill; you can be great if you only will. You are well equipped for the fight you choose you have arms and legs and brains to use. And people who have risen, great deeds to do started their lives with no more than you.
You are the handicap you must face. You are the one who must choos m.niubb.nete your place. You must say where you want to go, and how much you will study the truth to know. God has equipped you for life, but he lets you decide what you want to be.
The courage must come from the soul within; you must furnish the will to win. So figure it out for yourself, my lad; you were born with all the great have had; with your equipment they all began. Get hold of yourself and say" I can".
你会发现,自己已经具备了所有伟人所拥有的:两条胳膊,两条腿,两只手,两只眼睛以及为你带来智慧的大脑。这些伟大的人在奋斗之处也只拥有这些。因此,开始为了梦想奋斗吧,告诉你自己:“我行!”。
看看那些伟大睿智的人,他们吃饭用寻常的盘子和刀叉;甚至用类似的方法系鞋带--世人皆认为他们兼具勇敢与智慧。但你要知道,此刻你已拥有他们拼搏向前的一切。
如果你愿意,你同样可以取胜,同样可以伟大。在奋斗的路途上你已拥有最精良的装备,不断向前成就伟业的人在奋斗之初并不比你多多少。
你必须面对的是你自己,仅有你自己可以决定自己的处境。说出自己想要达到目标,讲出自己掌握的真相。上帝已为你提供了装备,但方向只能由你自己来决定。
勇气来自内心深处,下定决心取得胜利。所以,自己想想吧,伟人的资本与生俱来。把握好自己,告诉自己:“我行!”。
英语晨读美文 篇五
I have known very few writers, but those I have known, and whom I respect, confess at once that they have little idea where they are going when they first set pen to paper.
They have a character, perhaps two; they are in that condition of eager discomfort which passes for inspiration; all admit radical changes of destination once the journey has begun; one, to my certain knowledge,spent nine months on a novel about Kashmir, then reset the whole thing in the Scottish Highland. I never heard of anyone making an “outline”, as we were taught at school. In the breaking and remaking,in the timing, interweaving,beginning again, the writer comes to discern things in his material which were not consciously in his mind when he began. This organic process, often leading to moments of extraordinary self-discovery, is of an indescribable fascination. A blurred image appears; he adds a brushstroke and another, and it is gone; but something was there, and he will not rest till he has captured it.
Sometimes the passion within a writer outlives a book he has written. I have heard of writers who read nothing but their own books; like adolescents they stand before the mirror, and still cannot understand the exact outline of the vision before them. For the same reason, writers talk endlessly about their own books, digging up hidden meanings, super-imposing new ones, begging response from those around them. Of course a writer doing this is misunderstood: he might as well try to explain a crime or a love affair. He is also, incidentally, an unforgivable bore. This temptation to cover the distance between himself and the reader, to study his image in the sight of those who do not know him, can be his undoing:he has begun to write to please.
A young English writer made the pertinent observation a year or two back that the talent goes into the first draft, and the art into the drafts that follow. For this reason also the writer, like any other artist,has no resting place, no crowd or movement in which he may take comfort, no judgment from outside which can replace the judgment from within. A writer makes order out of the anarchy of his heart; he submits himself to a more ruthless discipline than any critic dreamed of, and when he flirts with fame, he is taking time off from living with himself, from the search for what his world contains at its inmost point.
英语晨读美文 篇六
Suddenly, I think of my youngest daughter, living now in Amsterdam. Very soon she will call and ask “Have you planted the bulbs yet?” Then I will answer teasingly that actually I’m waiting until she comes to help me. And then we will both be overcome by nostalgia, because once we always did that together. One entire sunny autumn afternoon, when she was three and a half years old, she helped me with all enthusiasm and joyfulness of her age.
It was one of the last afternoons that I had her around, because her place in school has been already reserved. She wandered around so happily carefree with her little bucket and spade, covering the bulbs with earth and calling out “Night, night” or “Sleep night”, her little voice chattering constantly on. She discovered “baby bulbs”, “kiddie bulbs”, and “mummy and daddy bulbs”, the latter snuggling cozily together. While we were both working so industriously, I watched my kid very deliberately. She was such a tiny thing, between an infant and a toddler, with such a round little tummy.
Every autumn, throughout her childhood, we repeated the ritual of planting the bulbs together. Every autumn I saw her changing, the toddler became a schoolgirl, a straightforward realist, full of drive. Never once dreamy, her hands in her pockets; no longer happily indulging in her fantasies. The schoolgirl developed long legs, her jaw-line changed, she had her hair cut. It was autumn again that I thought “bye roses, bye butterflies, bye schoolgirl”。 I listened to her stories while we painstakingly burrowed in the earth, planting the promise of spring.
Suddenly, much quicker than I had expected, a tall teenager was standing by my side. She is taller than I. The ritual became rather silent, and we no longer chatter from one subject to another. I thought about her room full of posters and knick-knacks, how it had been full of treasures in bottles and boxes, white peddles, a copper brooch, colored drawings, the treasures of a child who still knew nothing of money, who wanted to be read to and who looked anxiously at a spider at her room and asked, “Would he want to be my friend?”
Then came the autumn when I planted the bulbs alone, and I knew from then on it would always be that way. But every year, in autumn, she talks about it. Full of nostalgia for the security of childhood, the seclusion of a garden, the final moments of a season. How both of us would dearly love to have a time machine. To go back. Just for a day.
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