英语美文含译文

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英语美文含译文

　　导语：伙伴们，优美的的句子总让人赏心悦目，富含哲理的短文更像是清晨的一缕阳光，照耀我们的心灵。下面由小编为大家整理了几篇英语美文，希望大家喜欢！

英语美文含译文

　　篇一 If you are alive

　　You will receive a body.

　　You may like it or hate it, but it will be yours for the entire period.

　　You will learn lessons.

　　You are enrolled in a full-time informal school called Life. Each day in this school you will learn lessons. You may like the lessons or think them irrelevant and stupid.

　　There are no mistakes, only lessons.

　　Growth is a process of trial and error: Experimentation. The "failed" experiments are as much a part of the process as the experiment that ultimately "works".

　　A lesson is repeated until learned.

　　A lesson will be presented to you in various forms until you have learned it. Once learned, you then go on to the next lesson.

　　Learning lessons does not end.

　　There is no part of life that does not contain its lessons. If you are alive, there are lessons to be learned.

　　译文：如果活着

　　你将拥有一个躯体。

　　你可以喜之也可以恶之，但它毕生都会属于你。

　　你将接受教育。

　　你入读了一所叫做"生活"的大学的全日制非正式学校。在学校的每一天你都将接受教育。你可以爱你所爱或者视之无聊而又豪无裨益。

　　没有过失，只有教训。

　　成长就是反复"尝试-犯错"的渐进过程，或者说是实验。那些所谓"失败"的实验和最终"奏效"的实验一样重要，都是这个过程的一部分。

　　同样的教训会不断重复直到你真正领悟为止。

　　同样的教训会以不同的形式不断出现在你面前直到你学会为止。而一旦你学会了，就会马上进入下一课的学习。

　　学无止境。

　　生活的每个部分无不包含可学之处。只要活着，你就学无止境。

　　篇二

　　Suppose someone gave you a pen — a sealed, solid-colored pen. You couldn’t see how much ink it had.

　　It might run dry after the first few tentative words or last just long enough to create a masterpiece (or several) that would last forever and make a difference in the scheme of things. You don’t know before you begin.

　　Under the rules of the game, you really never know. You have to take a chance!

　　Actually, no rule of the game states you must do anything. Instead of picking up and using the pen, you could leave it on a shelf or in a drawer where it will dry up.

　　But if you do decide to use it, what would you do with it? How would you play the game?

　　Would you plan and plan before you ever wrote a word?

　　Would your plans be so extensive that you never even got to the writing?

　　Or would you take the pen in hand, plunge right in and just do it, struggling to keep up with the twists and turns of the torrents of words that take you where they take you?

　　Would you write cautiously and carefully, as if the pen might run dry the next moment, or would you pretend or believe (or pretend to believe) that the pen will write forever and proceed accord gly?

　　And of what would you write: Of love? Hate? Fun? Misery? Life? Death?Nothing Everything?

　　Would you write to please just yourself? Or others? Or yourself by writing for others?

　　Would your strokes be tremblingly timid or brilliantly bold? Fancy with a flourish or plain?

　　Would you even write? Once you have the pen, no rule says you have to write. Would you sketch? Scribble? Doodle or draw?

　　Would you stay in or on the lines, or see no lines at all, even if they were there? Or are they? There’s a lot to think about here, isn’t there?

　　Now, suppose someone gave you a life...

　　译文

　　假设有人给了你一枝笔，一枝密封的、纯色的水笔，里面有多少墨水你看不到。

　　很可能刚刚试写几字便用干耗尽；也可能足以完成一部或几部杰作，永存于世，使世事为之大变。而这一切你在动笔之前却是一无所知。

　　根据游戏的规则，你确实永远也不会知道，只能冒一下险。

　　而事实上，也没有规则说你就一定要做些什么。你大可以把笔搁在架子上、放在抽屉里，弃置不用，任墨水蒸发干净。

　　然而，如果你真的决定使用，你会做什么？怎么来做这个游戏？

　　你会左计划、右计划，然后才慢慢下笔吗？

　　计划会不会太泛太多，根本就达不到写作这一步？

　　会不会提笔在手，迫不及待地投入其中，任由手中的笔、笔下的字带着你在词海中上下翻腾、左突右冲？

　　会不会下笔谨小慎微，似乎墨水随时都将干涸？会不会假装或相信、或假装相信笔中墨水永不会枯竭，任你挥洒？

　　你会写些什么？爱情？仇恨？乐趣？痛苦？生命？死亡？虚无空空抑或世事万种？

　　是会用来自娱？还是取悦他人？还是为人写作而愉悦自身？

　　你的一笔一划会颤抖怯懦还是亮丽大胆？花里胡哨还是朴实无华？

　　你确实会去写吗？你一旦有了这枝笔，却也没有规则说你一定就要去写。你会粗粗写来？潦潦草草？信手涂鸦？还是认真描画？

　　你会写在线里还是写在线上，或者对纸上的线格根本就视而不见？真的有什么线格吗？此时此刻，有很多东西值得思考，不是吗？

　　那么，假设有人给了你一次生命……

　　篇三

　　Springs are not always the same. In some years, April bursts upon Virginia hills in one prodigious leap – and all the stage is filled at once, whole choruses of tulips, arabesques of forsythia, cadenzas of flowering plum. The trees grow leaves overnight.

　　In other years, spring tiptoes in. It pauses, overcome by shyness, like my grandchild at the door, peeping in, ducking out of sight, giggling in the hallway. I know you’re out there, I cry. Come in! And April slips into our arms.

　　The dogwood bud, pale green, is inlaid with russet markings. Within the perfect cup a score of clustered seeds are nestled. One examines the bud in awe: Where were those seeds a month ago? The apples display their milliner’s scraps of ivory silk, rose-tinged. All the sleeping things wake up – primrose, baby iris, blue phlox. The earth warms – you can smell it, feel it, crumble April in your hands.

　　Look to the rue anemone, if you will, or the pea patch, or to the stubborn weed that thrusts its shoulders through a city street. This is how it was, is now, and ever shall be, the world without end. In the serene certainty of spring recurring, who can fear the distant fall?

　　译文

　　春不总是千篇一律的。有时候，四月一个健步就跃上了弗吉尼亚的小山丘。顿时，整个舞台活跃起来：郁金香们引吭高歌，连翘花翩翩起舞，梅花表演起了独奏。树木也在一夜之间披上了新绿。

　　有时候，春又悄然来临。它欲前又止，羞涩腼腆，就像我的小孙女，倚在门口，偷偷往里瞅，又一下子跑开了，不见踪影，从门厅传出她咯咯的'笑声。我喊一声：我知道你在那儿，进来吧！于是四月便倏地一下飞进我们怀中。

　　山茱萸的花骨朵儿嫩绿嫩绿的，镶着赤褐色的花边。在那漂亮的花萼里，竟稳稳地簇拥着十几颗小种子。我们不禁要惊羡地问一句：一个月前这些种子还在哪儿呢？苹果树则像卖帽人，向人们展示他帽子上那一片片微带点玫瑰红地乳白色丝缎。所有熟睡的都醒了樱草花、小蝴蝶花、蓝夹竹桃。大地也暖和起来了你可以闻到四月的气息，感觉到它那股馨香，把它捧在手中赏玩。

　　去看看白头翁花，如果你愿意，再去看看豌豆畦，或是那倔强地手臂伸过城市街道的野花。它们从前是这样，现在是这样，将来还会是这样，这是个永不停息的世界。当我们发现，春已切切实实地回来了，在恬静之中，谁还会害怕遥远的秋天呢？

　　篇四 Quiet mornings.

　　Sing-a-long songs with my toddlers in the car.

　　Sunset and a beer with my wife.

　　Runner’s high on a long run.

　　Cuddling up and watching a DVD with the wife and kids.

　　Walking outside with my son after it rains.

　　My “life” talks with my eldest daughter in the car.

　　Writing a post for 50,000 people, in my pajamas.

　　Feeling sick and lying in bed all day without having to call my boss.

　　Showing my 2-year-old the clear starry sky.

　　Cheering my kids on in their soccer games.

　　Time alone with a good book.

　　Freshly brewed coffee.

　　My hot veggie soup on a cold day.

　　Writing before the sun rises.

　　Fresh, cold berries.

　　A long conversation with a friend.

　　Succumbing to a mid-afternoon nap.

　　Playing kickball in the yard with my kids.

　　The feeling of satisfaction after a workout.

　　Waking up to a clean, uncluttered living room.

　　Laughing at my 4-year-old son’s wacky sense of humor.

　　Screaming my head off when my son scores a goal.

　　Collapsing after finishing a marathon, exhausted but in love with life.

　　Spending time with my mom and sisters on a Saturday afternoon, baking sweets.

　　Letting a warm chocolate chip cookie melt in my mouth with my eyes closed.

　　A long hot shower.

　　Walking with the sand between my toes as the sun goes down.

　　Listening to the sound of waves lapping a white sand beach.

　　A hug when I need it.

　　Dew on the grass in the morning.

　　译文:简单的生活

　　宁静的早晨。

　　与我的小宝贝在车里唱一首悠长的歌。

　　夕阳，啤酒，爱人。

　　长跑后的酣畅淋漓。

　　蜷在沙发上，与妻子孩子一起看碟。

　　和我的儿子在雨中散步。

　　在车里与我的大女儿谈论我的“人生”。

　　穿着睡裤，写一篇文章，读者50000人。

　　感觉不舒服，躺在床上一整天，不用给老板打电话。

　　带我那两岁的孩子看星星布满的夜空。

　　为孩子们的足球赛加油喝彩。

　　独自一人，读一本好书。

　　喝一杯煮好的咖啡，精神饱满。

　　寒冷冬日的一碗热蔬菜汤。

　　在太阳升起前写作。

　　新鲜，冰镇的浆果。

　　和好友的一次促膝长谈。

　　午后禁不住打个小盹。

　　和我的孩子在花园里踢球。

　　经历考验后的满足感。

　　醒来发现躺在整洁的卧室里。

　　对我四岁儿子独特的幽默感哈哈大笑。

　　为我儿子的进球得分尖叫。

　　在跑完马拉松后瘫倒在地，精疲力竭但挚爱着生活。

　　周六的午后与母亲和姐妹一起度过，烘焙甜点。

　　洗一个热水澡。

　　踩在沙滩上，沙子在脚趾间的触感，欣赏落日。

　　听着海浪拍打白色沙滩的声音。

　　在我需要时，给我一个拥抱。

　　清晨草叶上新鲜的露珠。

　　篇五

　　Youth is not a time of life; it is a state of mind; it is not a matter of rosy cheeks, red lips and supple knees; it is a matter of the will, a

　　quality of the imagination, a vigor of the emotions; it is the freshness of the deep springs of life.

　　Youth means a tempera-mental predominance of courage over timidity, of the appetite for adventure over the love of ease. This often exists in a man of 60 more than a boy of 20. Nobody grows old merely by a number of years. We grow old by deserting our ideals.

　　译文

　　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。

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