ã1ãRainé¨
Rain is falling all around, é¨å¿å¨å°å¤éè½ï¼
It falls on field and tree, å®è½å¨ç°éåæ æ¢¢ï¼
It rains on the umbrella here, å®è½å¨è¿è¾¹çé¨ä¼ä¸ï¼
And on the ships at sea. åè½å¨èªè¡æµ·ä¸çè¹åªã
by R. L. Stevenson, 1850-1894
ã2ãWhat Does The Bee Do?
What does the bee do? èèåäºä»ä¹ï¼
Bring home honey. æèè带åå®¶ã
And what does Father do? ç¶äº²åäºä»ä¹ï¼
Bring home money. æé±å¸¦åå®¶ã
And what does Mother do? æ¯äº²åäºä»ä¹ï¼
Lay out the money. æé±ç¨å
ã
And what does baby do?å©´å¿åäºä»ä¹ï¼
Eat up the honey. æèåå
ã
by C. G. Rossetti, 1830-1894
ã3ãO Sailor, Come Ashoreåï¼æ°´æï¼ä¸å²¸å§
(Part I)
O sailor, come ashore åï¼æ°´æï¼ä¸å²¸å§
What have you brought for me? ä½ ç»æå¸¦æ¥ä»ä¹ï¼
Red coral , white coral, æµ·éçççï¼
Coral from the sea. 红çï¼ç½çã
(Part II)
I did not dig it from the ground å®ä¸æ¯æä»å°ä¸æçï¼
Nor pluck it from a tree; ä¹ä¸æ¯ä»æ 䏿çï¼
Feeble insects made it 宿¯æ´é£é¨ç海裹
In the stormy sea. 弱尿è«åæçã
by C. G. Rossetti
ã4ãTHE WINDé£
(Part I)
Who has seen the wind? è°æ¾è§è¿é£çé¢è²ï¼
Neither I nor you; è°ä¹æ²¡è§è¿ï¼ä¸è®ºä½ ææï¼
But when the leaves hang trembling, ä½å¨æ å¶éå¨ä¹é
ï¼
The wind is passing through. 飿£ä»é£éå¹è¿ã
(Part II)
Who has seen the wind? è°æ¾è§è¿é£çé¢åï¼
Neither you nor I; è°ä¹æ²¡è§è¿ï¼ä¸è®ºä½ ææï¼
But when the trees bow down their heads, ä½å¨æ 梢ä½åä¹é
ï¼
The wind is passing by. 飿£ä»é£éç»è¿ã
ï½by C. G. Rossetti
å¦ä¸é¦è¯äººçé£ä¹æ
O wind , why do you never rest, é£åï¼ä¸ºä½ä½ æ°¸ä¸ä¼æ¢
Wandering, whistling to and fro, æ¥æ¥ååçæ¼æ³ï¼å¼å¸
Bring rain out of the west, ä»è¥¿æ¹å¸¦æ¥äºé¨
From the dim north bringing snow? ä»èç¬ç忹另æ¥äºéªã
ã5ãTHE CUCKOOå¸è°·é¸
In April, åæéï¼
Come he will, å®å°±æ¥äºï¼
In May, äºæéï¼
Sing all day, æ´å¤©åå±å¤éé¥ï¼
In June, å
æéï¼
Change his tune, å®å¨æ¹åæ²è°ï¼
In July, 䏿éï¼
Prepare to fly, åå¤é£ç¿ï¼
In August, å
«æéï¼
Go he must! å®å°±å¾ç¦»å»äºï¼
ï½by Mother Goose's Nursery Rhyme
ã6ãCOLORSé¢è²
What is pink? A rose is pink ä»ä¹æ¯ç²çº¢è²ï¼
By the fountain's brink. å·æ³è¾¹çç«ç°å°±æ¯ç²çº¢è²ã
What is red? A poppy's red ä»ä¹æ¯è³çº¢è²ï¼
In its barley bed. å¨å¤§éº¦åºéçç½ç²è±å°±æ¯è³çº¢è²ã
What is blue? The sky is blue ä»ä¹æ¯èèè²ï¼å¤©ç©ºå°±æ¯èèè²ï¼
Where the clouds float thro'. äºæµé£è¿å
¶é´ã
What is white? A swan is white ä»ä¹æ¯ç½è²ï¼
Sailing in the light. é³å
ä¸å¬æ°´ç天é¹
å°±æ¯ç½è²ã
What is yellow? Pears are yellow, ä»ä¹æ¯é»è²ï¼æ¢¨å¿å°±æ¯é»è²ï¼
Rich and ripe and mellow. çéä¸å¤æ±ã
What is green? The grass is green, ä»ä¹æ¯ç»¿è²ï¼èå°±æ¯ç»¿è²ï¼
With small flowers between. å°è±æºæå
¶é´ã
What is violet? Clouds are violet ä»ä¹æ¯ç´«è²ï¼å¤æ¥å¤é³éç
In the summer twilight. 彩éå°±æ¯ç´«è²ã
What is orange? Why, an orange, ä»ä¹æ¯æ©è²ï¼å½ç¶å¦ï¼
Just an orange! æ©åå°±æ¯æ©è²ã
by C. G. Rossetti
ã7ãA House Of Cards 纸çå æçæ¿å
(1)
A house of cards 纸çå æçæ¿å
Is neat and small; æ´ååå°å·§
Shake the table, æææ¡å
It must fall. å®ä¸å®ä¼åã
(2)
Find the court cards æ¾åºç»æäººåç纸ç
One by one; ä¸å¼ ä¸å¼ å°ç«èµ·
Raise it, roof it,---- åå ä¸é¡¶ç
Now it's done;---- ç°å¨æ¿åå·²ç»ç好
Shake the table! æææ¡å
That's the fun. é£å°±æ¯å®çä¹è¶£ã
by C. G. Rossetti
ã8ãWhat Does Little Birdie Say?
(1)
What does little birdie say, å°é¸è¯´äºä»ä¹å¢ï¼
In her nest at peep of day? å¨è¿é»æåæçå°å·¢ä¸ï¼
Let me fly, says little birdie, å°é¸è¯´ï¼è®©æé£ï¼
Mother, let me fly away, å¦å¦ï¼è®©æé£èµ°å§ã
Birdie, rest a little longer, å®è´ï¼ç¨çä¹
ä¸ä¼å¿ï¼
Till the little wings are stronger. çå°é£å¯¹å°ç¿
èåé¿ç¡¬äºå¿ã
So she rests a little longer, å æ¤å®åå¤çäºä¸ä¼å¿ï¼
Then she flies away. ç¶èå®è¿æ¯é£èµ°äºã
(2)
What does little baby say, å©´å¿è¯´äºä»ä¹ï¼
In her bed at peep of day? å¨ç ´ææ¶åçåºä¸ï¼
Baby says, like little birdie, å©´å¿åå°é¸é£æ ·è¯´ï¼
Let me rise and fly away. 让æèµ·æ¥é£èµ°å§ã
Baby, sleep a little longer, ä¹ä¹ï¼ç¨å¾®å¤ç¡ä¸ä¼å¿ï¼
Till the little limbs are stronger. çä½ çåè¢åé¿ç¡¬ç¹å¿ã
If she sleeps a little longer, 妿她åå¤ç¡ä¸ä¼å¿ï¼
Baby too shall fly away. å©´å¿å¿
ç¶ä¹ä¼åé¸å¿ä¸æ ·å°é£èµ°ã
by Alfred Tennyson, 1809-1892
ã9ãThe Star ææ
(1)
Twinkle, twinkle, little star! éªèï¼éªèï¼å°ææï¼
How I wonder what you are, ææ³ç¥éä½ èº«å½¢ï¼
Up above the world so high, é«é«æå¨å¤©ç©ºä¸ï¼
Like a diamond in the sky. å°±å天ä¸çé»ç³ã
(2)
When the blazing sun is gone, ç¿ç太é³å·²è¥¿æ²ï¼
When he nothing shines upon, å®å·²ä¸åç
§ä¸ç©ï¼
Then you show your little light, ä½ å°±æ¾é²äºå¾®å
ï¼
Twinkle, twinkle all the night. æ´ä¸ªæä¸ç¨ç¼çã
(3)
The dark blue sky you keep çææ¼é»ç天空
And often thro' my curtains peep, ç©¿è¿çªå¸åææï¼
For you never shut your eye æ°¸ä¸éä¸ä½ ç¼ç
Till the sun is in the sky. ç´å°å¤ªé³åç°å½¢ã
(4)
'Tis your bright and tiny spark ä½ è¿å¾®äº®çç«æï¼
Lights the traveler in the dark; é»å¤ç
§èçæ¸¸äººï¼
Though I know not what you are è½æä¸ç¥ä½ 身形ï¼
Twinkle, twinkle, little star! éªèï¼éªèï¼å°ææï¼
by Jane Taylor, 1783-1824
ã10ãAt The Seaside æµ·è¾¹
(1)
When I was down beside the sea 彿尿µ·è¾¹æ¶
A wooden spade they gave to me ä»ä»¬ç»äºæä¸ææ¨é²
To dig the sandy shore. å¥½å»æææ²æ»©ã
(2)
The holes were empty like a cup ææåæ¯ç¶è¬ç空æ´
In every hole the sea camp up, 让æ¯ä¸ªæ´ä¸çæµ·æ°´æ¶ç°
Till it could come no more. ç´å°å®ä¸è½åæ¶ç°ã
by R. L. Stevenson
ã11ãBoats Sail On The Rivers
(1)
Boats sail on the rivers, å°è卿²³ä¸èªè¡ï¼
And ships sail on the seas; 大è¹å¨æµ·ä¸æè½®ï¼
But clouds that sail across the sky, ç¶èç½äºé£è¿å¤©ç©ºæ¶ï¼
Are prettier far than these. æ¯è¿äºæ´ä¸ºæ¦äººã
(2)
There are bridges on the rivers, æ²³ä¸ææ¡¥ï¼
As pretty as you please; å¦ä½ ææ¿çé£ä¹æ¦ç®ï¼
But the bow that bridges heaven, ç¶è横跨å¨ç©¹èçé¿è¹ï¼
And overtops the trees, å´æ¯æ 梢æ´é«ï¼
And builds a road from earth to sky, èè½å»ºç䏿¡éè¡å¤©é
çéè·¯ï¼
Is prettier far than these. æ¯è¿äºæ´ä¸ºç¾å¥½ã
by C. G. Rossetti
ã12ãThe Swing ç§å
(1)
How do you like to go up in a swing, ä½ åæ¬¢è¡ä¸è¶ç§åï¼
Up in the air so blue? 置身äºèèçæ´ç©ºåï¼
Oh, I do think it the pleasantest thing åï¼æè®¤ä¸ºè¿æ¯å°å©æè½åå°ç
Ever a child can do. ææå¿«çç©èã
(2)
Up in the air and over the wall, è¶è¿å¢å¤é«è¸å¤©ç©ºï¼
Till I can see so wide, ç´å°æè½æè§å¦æ¤å¹¿å¤§çä¸çï¼
River and trees and cattle and all æ²³æµãæ æ¨ãç群ï¼
Over the countryside---- è¿ææ´ä¸ªç乡æã
(3)
Till I look down on the garden green ç´å°æä¿¯ç°çç¿ ç»¿çè±å
Down on the roof so brown---- 以忣è²çå±é¡¶
Up in the air I go flying again æåé£ä¸å¤©å»ï¼
Up in the air and down! å¨å¤©å°é´ä¸ä¸ç©¿æ¢ï¼
by R. L. Stevenson
ã13ãThe Blossom è±å¿
(1)
Merry, merry sparrow! æå¿«ï¼æå¿«çå°éº»éï¼
Under leaves so green, å¨å¦æ¤ç¿ ç»¿çæ å¶ä¸ï¼
A happy blossom 䏿µå¹¸ç¦çè±å¿
Sees you, swift as arrow, ççä½ ï¼å¦ç®è¬å°ææ·ï¼
Seek your cradle narrow 卿çè¸å寻æ¾
Near my bosom. ä½ é£çªå°çæç¯®ã
(2)
Pretty, pretty robin! æ¼äº®ï¼æ¼äº®çç¥æ´é¸ï¼
Under leaves so green, å¨å¦æ¤ç¿ ç»¿çæ å¶ä¸ï¼
A happy blossom 䏿µå¹¸ç¦çè±æµ
Hears you sobbing, sobbing, å¬å°ä½ åå½ï¼åå½ï¼
Pretty, pretty, robin, æ¼äº®ï¼æ¼äº®çç¥æ´é¸ï¼
Near my bosom. 卿çè¸åçæã
by William Blake, 1757-1827
åèèµæï¼ç½ç»