青春英文诗歌

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　　青春英文诗歌【1】

　　Fish (fly-replete, in depth of June,

　　Dawdling away their wat'ry noon)

　　Ponder deep wisdom, dark or clear,

　　Each secret fishy hope or fear.

　　Fish say, they have their Stream and Pond;

　　But is there anything Beyond?

　　This life cannot be All, they swear,

　　For how unpleasant, if it were!

　　One may not doubt that, somehow, Good

　　Shall come of Water and of Mud;

　　And, sure, the reverent eye must see

　　A Purpose in Liquidity.

　　We darkly know, by Faith we cry,

　　The future is not Wholly Dry.

　　Mud unto Mud! - Death eddies near -

　　Not here the appointed End, not here!

　　But somewhere, beyond Space and Time,

　　Is wetter water, slimier slime!

　　And there (they trust) there swimmeth One

　　Who swam ere rivers were begun,

　　Immense, of fishy form and mind,

　　Squamous, omnipotent, and kind;

　　And under that Almighty Fin,

　　The littlest fish may enter in.

　　Oh! never fly conceals a hook,

　　Fish say in the Eternal Brook,

　　But more than mundane weeds are there,

　　And mud, celestially fair;

　　Fat caterpillars drift around,

　　And Paradisal grubs are found;

　　Unfading moths, immortal flies,

　　And the worm that never dies.

　　And in that Heaven of all their wish,

　　There shall be no more land, say fish.

　　青春英文诗歌【2】

　　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, vigor of the emotions; it is the freshness of the deep spring of life.

　　Youth means a temperamental predominance of courage over timidity, of the appetite for adventure over the love of ease. This often exits in a man of 60, more than a boy of 20.nobody grows merely by the number of years; we grow old by deserting our ideas. Years may wrinkle the skin, but to give up enthusiasm wrinkles the soul. Worry, fear, self-distrust1 bows the heart and turns the spirit back to dust.

　　Whether 60 or 16, there is in every human being’s heart the lure of wonders, the unfailing childlike appetite of what’s next and the joy of the game of living. In the center of your heart and my heart there is a wireless station; so long as it receives messages of beauty, hope, cheer, courage and power from men and from infinite, so long as you are young.

　　When the aerials are down, and your spirit is covered with the snows of cynicism and the ice of pessimism, then you’ve grown old, even at 20, but as long as your aerials are up, to catch waves of optimism, there’s hope you may die young at 80.