These beautiful things will never die.
Charles Dickens/Charles Dickens
Pure, bright, beautiful, pure, brilliant, beautiful,
Shocked our young hearts, shocked our young hearts,
The impulse to pray without words urges us to pray without words.
Dreams of love and truth; Let us dream of love and truth;
Desire after loss, cherish after loss,
The yearning cry of the spirit makes the soul cry deeply,
Pursuing better hopes-fighting for better dreams-
These things will never disappear. These things will never disappear.
Give a helping hand shyly,
When your brother needs it,
A kind word when you are sad and difficult; A kind word when you are sad and difficult.
This proves a true friend; Enough to prove a friend's sincerity;
Begging for forgiveness softly, begging for forgiveness softly,
When justice draws near and judgment draws near,
A contrite heart has a kind of sadness.
These things will never die. These things will never disappear.
Let every hand convey warmth.
Must find some work to do; Do as much as you can;
Don't miss the opportunity to wake up love-don't miss the opportunity to wake up love-
Firm, fair and true; Firmness, integrity and loyalty;
A light that never fades, your light shines on the earth.
Shining on you from a height. It won't disappear.
The angel's voice says to you-you will hear the angel's voice say-
These things will never die. These things will never disappear.
English poetry reading manuscript (2);
Go through the bar
Author: Alfred Tennyson
Give me a clear call!
I hope there are no complaints in the bar,
When I went out to sea,
But this trend seems to be asleep,
Too much sound and foam,
When it is drawn from the endless abyss
Go home again.
Twilight and evening bells,
After that, it's dark!
May there be no sadness of parting,
When I got on the boat;
Although from our time and place
The flood may take me far away,
I hope to meet my pilot.
When I passed the bar.
Phyllostachys pubescens
Alfred Tennyson
In the sunset, the stars are scattered all over the floor.
Call it clear!
May Shazhu be quiet,
I will sail to the sea;
Tides are like dreams,
The sound of the waves seems to have stopped, and the waves are still;
Deep in the ocean,
Quietly retreated.
The bell rings at dusk,
Night will come!
May there be no sadness in farewell,
Boarding and anchoring;
The torrent of the times, infinite time and space,
Carrying me away;
The first line of defense through Shazhu,
Look at the pilot calmly.
English poetry reading manuscript (3);
Oh, captain! My captain!
Walt Whitman
Captain! My captain! Our terrible trip is over,
The ship has weathered the wind and rain, and the spoils we are pursuing have worn away.
As the port approached, I heard the bell and people were jubilant.
As the eyes see the stable keel, the ship is cold and bold;
But ah, heart! Heart! Heart!
Ah, red blood drops!
My captain is lying on the deck,
Die cold.
Ah, captain! My captain! Get up and listen to the bell;
Get up-the flag is flying for you-the horn is ringing for you,
For you, bouquets and ribbons-for you, the coast is crowded,
They call you, swaying crowd, and their eager faces turn;
Here you are, captain! Dear father!
This arm under your head;
There are some dreams on the deck
You have died of cold.
My captain didn't answer, his lips were pale and silent,
My father can't feel my arm, he has 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 sad steps,
Walking on the deck, my captain is lying down,
Die cold.
Captain! My captain!
Walt Whitman
Ah, captain! 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!
On the deck lay my captain,
He went down and said goodbye coldly.
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 go down, cold, goodbye.
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;
Go back to China after a hard journey and win the goal of victory.
Ah, the bells on the shore are ringing, ah, people are rejoicing!
But I was on deck, next to the captain,
Heartbroken, heavy footsteps:
Because he fell down, cold, farewell.
English poetry reading manuscript (4);
To the cuckoo
William Wordsworth
Ah, happy newcomers! I heard,
I was ecstatic when I heard your voice.
Oh, cuckoo! May I call you a bird,
Or is it just a wandering voice?
When I was lying on the grass
I hear your double cry;
It seems that from one mountain to another.
Far and near.
Although only talking to the valley,
Sunshine and flowers,
You brought me a story.
Fantasy time.
Welcome three times, baby of spring!
Even if you are mine.
Not a bird, but an invisible thing,
A mysterious voice;
That's the man from my school days.
I listened; That cry
It showed me a thousand ways.
In bushes, trees and the sky.
In order to find you, I often wander
Through the Woods and green spaces;
You are still a hope, a love;
Still eager, never seen.
I can still listen to you;
You can lie on the plain.
Listen, until I give birth to the baby
It's that golden age again.
Oh, blessed bird! The earth we walk on.
It seems that it is again
An illusory, fairyland-like place;
That's your home!
cuckoo
William Wordsworth
Ah, happy new guests!
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,
Listen to your duet:
It seems to spread from one mountain to another,
It seems close at hand, but it seems far away.
Your song echoes in the valley,
With prosperity and sunshine;
You took me.
Recall past fantasies.
I welcome it again and again.
You are the forerunner of Yangchun.
In my eyes, you are not a bird,
This is an invisible magic sound.
When I was a primary school student,
Heard the same song;
I tried to find it,
From the sky to the jungle.
I often roam, in order to find you,
Stepping on grass and walking through dense forests;
I can't see it, but I'm still looking forward to it.
You still hope, not love.
Now I'm lying on the plain,
Your singing can still be heard.
I'm all ears,
Until I recall my golden childhood.
The land where we live.
It is ethereal and magical;
This is a good place for you to settle down.
Ah, happy bird, bless you!
English poetry reading manuscript (5);
spring
Author: thomas nashe
Spring, sweet spring, is a pleasant king in a year;
Then everything blooms, and then the girls dance in a circle.
Cold doesn't sting, beautiful birds sing,
Cuckoo, puff, puff, puff!
Palms and possibly gay country houses,
The lambs play skipping, the shepherds whistle all day,
We heard the birds tuning the happy melody,
Cuckoo, puff, puff, puff!
The fields breathe the fragrance, daisies kiss our feet,
Young lovers meet, old wives sit in the sun,
In every street, we hear these tunes in our ears.
Cuckoo, puff, puff, puff!
Spring! Sweet spring!
Chun thomas nashe
Spring, sweet spring, Yao and Shun in a year,
Flowers and trees are everywhere, and daughters are dancing in circles everywhere.
Slightly cold but clear, good birds are singing,
Zhaozhao, Chaochao, brother, cut the wheat and insert a grain!
Elms and hawthorn, families dressed as farmhouses,
Lambs play, shepherds play all day,
Birds always sing in harmony, a melodious rhythm,
Zhaozhao, Chaochao, brother, cut the wheat and insert a grain!
The fragrant wind rippled in the countryside, and daisies kissed people's heels.
Couples, old women sitting in the sun,
Go to any avenue, there is a sweet song,
Zhaozhao, Chaochao, brother, cut the wheat and insert a grain!
Spring! Sweet spring!