Classic English poetry is best accompanied by reading MP3.

Default classification of English classical poetry recitation 2009-06-30 15:24 Reading 60 comments 0 font size: Clement Clarke Moore-'Twas the Night before Christmas (text) recording, see music column' twas the night'. Before Christmas (read aloud by Jim Ted) (Music) "It was the night before Christmas, and there was not an animal moving in the whole house, not even a mouse. Socks hang carefully by the chimney, hoping that saint nicholas will appear soon. The children lie comfortably in bed, and the image of sugar plums jumps in their minds. With mom in her headscarf and me in my hat, we just took a long winter nap. When there was such a noise on the lawn outside, I jumped out of bed to see what had happened. I quickly ran to the window, opened the blinds and pulled up the sash. The moon on the chest of the newly fallen snow gives the objects below a midday glow. When should my curious eyes appear, but a miniature sleigh and eight little reindeer. A little old driver, so lively and fast, I knew at once that it must be St. Nick. They are faster than the eagle, and his horse is coming. He whistles, shouts and calls their names! "now Dasher! Now, dancer! Now, Prasse and Wicksen! Go, comet! Go, Cupid! Downer Street and Blitzen Street. Go to the top of the porch! Go to the top of the wall! Now run! Run! All washed away! " Like the dead leaves before a wild hurricane, they will fly into the sky when they encounter obstacles. So, they drove a sleigh full of toys and saint nicholas to the roof. Then, in a flash, I heard the jumping and scratching of every little hoof on the roof. When I turned around, saint nicholas jumped out of the chimney. He was dressed in fur from head to toe, and his clothes were stained with dust and soot. He threw a bundle of toys on his back and looked like a peddler, opening his bag. His eyes-how bright! How happy his dimples are! His cheeks are like roses, and his nose is like cherries! His funny mouth is tilted like a bow, and the beard on his chin is as white as snow. He clenched his pipe with his teeth, and the smell of smoke surrounded his head like a wreath. He has a Zhang Kuan face and a small round belly. When he laughs, he shakes like a bowl of jelly! He is fat and a happy old elf. When I saw him, I couldn't help laughing! He blinked and twisted his head, and soon let me know that I had nothing to fear. Without saying a word, he went straight to work, filled all his socks, and then suddenly turned around. He put his finger next to his nose, nodded and climbed up the chimney! He jumped on his sleigh and whistled to his team. They flew away like thistle fluff. But I heard him shout, "Merry Christmas and good night!" Before he drove away. (Music) Get through BarBy Alfred Tennyson and give me a clear call! When I go out to sea, I hope there is no moaning of sandbars, but when the tide drawn from the boundless deep sea comes home again, the moving tide seems to be asleep, full of sound and foam. Twilight and dusk bells, and then the darkness! When I get on the boat, may there be no sadness of parting; Because beyond the boundary of our time and place, the flood may take me far away, but I hope to meet my pilot face to face when I cross the sandbar. Dushaju Alfredo? Tennyson, in the sunset, the stars shine and call for a clear voice! May sand bamboo be quiet, and I will sail out to sea; The tide is like a dream, the sound of the waves seems to stop, and the waves rest; The depths of the sea come and go quietly. The bell will ring at dusk and the night will be covered! May there be no sadness in farewell, and board the ship and anchor; The torrent of the times, infinite time and space, took me away; Cross the sand-bead line and watch the pilot calmly. = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = Oh, captain! My captain! Walt whitman Kaputin! My captain! Our terrible trip is over, the ship has withstood all kinds of tests, the trophy we are looking for has worn out, the port is near, I hear the bell, people are rejoicing, and with the eyes looking at the stable keel, the ship is cold and brave; But ah, heart! Heart! Heart! Ah, red blood drops! My captain lay on the deck and died cold. Ah, captain! My captain! Get up and listen to the bell; Get up-flags are flying for you-bugles are ringing for you, and bouquets and ribbons are presented for you-the crowds on the coast are crowded and shouting for you, and their eager faces turn; Here you are, captain! Dear father! This arm under your head; This is a dream. You fell on the deck and died of cold. My captain didn't answer, his lips were pale and motionless, my father couldn't feel my arm, he had no pulse and will; The ship has anchored safely and the voyage is over. From the terrible trip, the victorious ship entered the port with the goal of victory; Rejoice, the coast! Ring, oh, the bell! But I, with a sad heart, walked on the deck where my captain was lying, fell cold and died. Captain! My captain! Walter. Captain Whitman. My captain! The terrible voyage has been completed; The ship experienced all the risks and achieved the expected goal. The harbor is in sight, the bell is ringing and people are rejoicing. Millions of eyes are fixed on the boat-steady, brave and firm. But it hurts! Sad! Sad! Look at a drop of red blood! My captain was lying on the deck, and he went down, cold and farewell. Ah, captain! My captain! Get up and listen to the bell; Get up, the horn rings for you, and the standard rises for you; Greeting you, how many bouquets and wreaths are waiting for you, and thousands of people flock to the shore; They shouted at you, gathered around and raised their eager faces; Ah, captain! Dear father! My arm holds your head! Is it a dream: on the deck, you went down, cold, farewell. My captain was silent, his lips were pale and motionless; Father didn't feel my arm, no pulse, no last words; The ship broke down and arrived safely; The voyage is over; The goal of returning home after a hard journey and winning. Ah, the bells on the shore are ringing, ah, people are rejoicing! However, I was on the deck, beside the captain, with a sad heart and heavy footsteps: because he fell, cold and farewell. = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = to the carefree newcomers in william wordsworth who are cuckolded! I heard you. I heard you. I'm glad. Oh, cuckoo! Can I call you a bird, or just a wandering voice? When I was lying on the grass, I heard a double cry; From one mountain to another, Passat seems to be far and near. Although I just mumbled to the valley of sunshine and flowers, you brought me many dreamy times. Welcome three times, baby of spring! Even you are not a bird to me, just an invisible thing, a mysterious voice; That's the man I listened to when I was a student; That cry made me look for everything in the bushes, trees and sky. In order to find you, I often wander in the Woods and green spaces; You are still a hope, a love; Still eager, never seen. I can still listen to you; I can lie on the plain and listen until I have that golden time again. Oh, blessed bird! The earth we live in seems to be an illusory fairyland; That's your home! To William Hua of Du Fu? Wordsworth, a happy new guest! When I heard your chirp, I was filled with joy; Ah, cuckoo, did I call you bird? Or is it a wonderful voice that echoes the clear moon from afar? When I was lying on the grass, I heard your duet: it seemed to spread from one mountain to another, it seemed to be near, and it seemed to be far away. Your song echoes in the valley, accompanied by prosperity and sunshine; You also brought me into the fantasy of recalling the past. I welcome you again and again. You are the forerunner of Yangchun. In my eyes, you are not a bird, but an invisible magical sound. It occurred to me that when I was a primary school student, I used to listen to the same song; I tried my best to find it, from the sky to the jungle. I often roam, in order to find you, stepping on the grass and through the jungle; I am still looking forward to it. Although I can't see it, you are still hope and love. Now that I'm lying on the plain, I can still hear your songs. I listened attentively until I remembered my golden childhood. The land we live in is ethereal and magical; This is a place to bless you to settle down, ah, happy bird, bless you! = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = Spring Author thomas nashe Nashe Spring is a delightful king in a year; Then everything blooms, then the girls dance in a circle, the cold no longer stings, and the beautiful birds sing, goo goo, goo goo, toot, toot! Palm trees and May trees make the country houses full of joy, lambs play, shepherds play flutes all day, and we hear birds singing happily, cuckoo, chirping, poof, poof, woo! The fields breathe the fragrance, daisies kiss our feet, young lovers meet, old wives sit in the sun, and on every street, our ears hear these tunes, goo goo, goo goo, poop-poop! Spring! Sweet spring! Thomas in spring? Nash spring, sweet spring, Yao and Shun in a year, flowers and trees everywhere, surrounded by dancing daughters, slightly cool, clear and harmonious. Good birds are singing and chirping, brother, cut the wheat and insert a grain! The elm willow and hawthorn are all dressed up in Tian She's home. The lamb is swimming, the shepherd's flute is playing all day, the birds are always singing, and there is a melodious voice, chirp, chirp, brother, cut the wheat and insert a grain! Fragrant wind rippling in the countryside, daisies kissing people's heels, lovers in pairs, old women sitting in the sun, heading for any road, with sweet songs, chirping, chirping, brother, cut wheat, cut a grain! Spring! Sweet spring! = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = lilacs, false blue, white, purple, the color of lilacs, your big flowers are everywhere in my new England. In the middle of your heart-shaped leaves, jump around like birds in the music box, singing their weak and soft songs; At the bend of your branch, the bright eyes of sparrows perched on spotted eggs anxiously pass through the light and shadow of all springs. 13