英语经典美文阅读翻译精选

　　外国文学里有一种所谓论文，其中大约可以分作两类。一批评的，是学术性的;二记述的，是艺术性的，又称作美文。下面小编整理了带阅读翻译的英语经典美文，希望大家喜欢!

　　带阅读翻译的英语经典美文品析

　　The Giving Tree

　　爱心树

　　Shel Silverstein

　　[美]谢尔·希尔弗斯坦

　　A long time ago, there was a huge apple tree. A little boy loved to come and play around it every day. He climbed to the treetop, ate the apples, took a nap under the shadow... He loved the tree and the tree loved to play with him.

　　很久以前，有一株高大繁茂的苹果树。一个小男孩每天都喜欢到树下玩耍。他爬上树梢，美美地摘下树上的苹果吃，吃完了就在树荫里打吨儿…他爱树，树也爱和他玩耍。

　　Time went by...The little boy had grown up and he no longer played around the tree.

　　日子一天天过去…小男孩长大了，很久不再来和树玩耍。

　　One day, the boy came back to the tree and looked sad."Come and play with me,”the tree asked the boy.

　　一天，小男孩来到树旁，他看起来很不开心。“和我玩吧。”树说。

　　"I am no longer a kid;I don't play around trees anymore,” the boy replied, "I want toys. I need money to buy them."

　　“我不再是小孩子了，不会再和你玩了。”男孩答道，“我想要玩具。我需要钱来买。”

　　"Sorry, but I don't have money...but you can pick all my

　　apples and sell them. So, you will have money." The boy was so excited. He picked all the apples on the tree and left happily. The boy didn't come back after he picked the apples.

　　“对不起，我没有钱……但是你可以把我的苹果都摘下来拿去卖掉。这样，你就有钱了。”男孩很兴奋，他摘下所有的苹果，高高兴兴地走了。从那以后很久没有回来。

　　The tree was sad.

　　树很伤心。

　　One day, the boy returned and the tree was so excited."Come and play with me,”the tree said.

　　一天，男孩回来了，树好高兴。“来和我玩吧。”树说。

　　"I don't have time to play. I have to work for my family. We need a house for shelter. Can you help me?" "Sorry, I don't have a house. But you can cut off my branches to build your house."So the boy cut all the branches of the tree and left happily.

　　“我没有时间，我得干活养家，我们需要一所房子遮蔽风雨，你能帮我吗?”“对不起，我没有房子。但是你可以砍下我的树枝去建一所房子。”于是，男孩砍下所有的树枝，高高兴兴地走了。

　　The tree was glad to see him happy but the boy didn't appear since then. The tree was again lonely and sad.

　　看到男孩开心，树也好开心，但是从那时起男孩很久没再来过。树又变得孤独、伤心起来。

　　One hot summer day, the boy returned and the tree was delighted. "Come and play with me!”the tree said.

　　盛夏的一天，男孩回来了，树好高兴。“来和我玩吧!”树说。“我不快乐，我开始老了，我想去航海放松自己，你能给我一条船吗?”“用我的树干造一条船吧，你就能航海了，你会快乐的。”于是，男孩锯下所有的树干做成一条船。他航海去了，之后很久没有出现。

　　"I am sad and getting old. I want to go sailing to relax myself.Can you give me a boat?" "Use my trunk to build the boat. You can sail and be happy." So the boy cut the tree trunk to make a boat. He went sailing and did not show up for along time.

　　许多年过去了，男孩终于回来了。“对不起，我的孩子。我再也没有任何东西可以给你了，我没有苹果了。”树说。“我也没有牙齿咬了。”男孩答道。“我没有树枝让你爬了。”“我也太老了，爬不动了。”男孩说。“我真想为你做些什么，可我只剩下快要死去的树桩了。”树含着泪说。“现在我什么也不需要了，只想有一个休息的地方就好。经过这么多年，我累了。”男孩答道。“太好了!老树桩就是倚着休息最好的地方。来吧，快坐到我身上来休息吧。”于是，男孩坐下来，树好高兴，它笑了，脸上挂着泪……

　　Finally, the boy returned after he left for so many years "Sorry, my boy. But I don't have anything for you any more.No more apples for you，”the tree said. "I don't have teeth to bite,”the boy replied. "No more trunk for you to climb on." "I am too old for that now,”the boy said. "I really want to give you something... the only thing left is my dying roots，”the tree said with tears. "I don't need much now, just a place to rest. I am tired after all these years,”the boy replied. "Good! Old tree roots are the best place to lean on and rest. Come here, please sit down with me and have a rest." The boy sat down and the tree was glad and smiled with tears...

　　这是我们每个人的故事。树就是我们的父母。小时候，我们喜欢和爸爸妈妈一起玩耍……长大后，便离开他们，只在我们有需要或遇到困难时才会想到他们。尽管如此，为了使我们幸福，父母总会守候着我们，心甘情愿地付出一切。你也许觉得那个男孩太残忍，但是我们不就在那样对待我们的父母吗?

　　This is a story of everyone. The tree is our parents. When we were young，we loved to play with Mom and Dad... When we grow up, we leave them, and only come to them when we need something or when we are in trouble. No matter what, parents will always be There and give everything they could to make you happy. You may think that the boy is cruel to the tree but that's how all of us are treating our parents.

　　经典的带阅读翻译的英语经典美文

　　Wonderful…Lousy…

　　精彩极了……糟糕透了……

　　Budd Schulberg

　　[美]巴德·舒尔伯格

　　When I was eight or nine years old，I wrote my first poem.

　　当我八九岁的时候，写了生平第一首诗。

　　At that time my father was head of Paramount Studios. My mother was involved in various intellectual projects.

　　那时，父亲是派拉蒙电影制片厂的厂长，母亲从事文化事业。

　　母亲读完这首小诗后喊道:“巴蒂，难以置信你能写出这么美、这么美的诗!”

　　My mother read the little poem and began to cry, "Buddy,you didn't really write this beautiful，beautiful poem!”

　　我结结巴巴地说是我写的。她大大地表扬了我一番。天啊，这首诗整个是一个天才的杰作。

　　I stammered that I had. She poured out her praise. Why, this poem was nothing short of genius!

　　我脸上现出愉快的表情。“爸爸什么时候回来?”我问道，我迫不及待地想给他看看。

　　I glowed.“What time will Father be home?" I asked. I could hardly wait to show him.

　　整个下午的大部分时间我都在为父亲的到来做着准备。我先用最漂亮的花体字抄写了一遍，然后用彩色笔画了一圈儿精美的花边儿，让它与内容相配。当七点将近的时候，我满怀信心地把它摆在餐桌上父亲的餐盘里。

　　I spent the best part of that afternoon preparing for his arrival.First, I wrote the poem out in my finest flourish. Then I crayoned an elaborate border around it that would do justice to its brilliant content. As seven o'clock drew near, I confidently placed it on my father's plate on the dining-room table.

　　但是七点钟父亲没有回来，我不能耐受这种心悬的感觉。我崇拜父亲，他是以作家的身份开始他的电影生涯的。他会比母亲更能欣赏优美的诗的。

　　But my father did not return at seven. I could hardly stand the suspense. I admired my father. He had begun his motion-picture career as a writer. He would be able to appreciate this wonderful poem of mine even more than my mother.

　　这天晚上，父亲突然闯进家门，他的情绪比往常要暴躁得多。他比通常吃晚饭的时间晚回来一小时，他坐不下来，手拿酒杯围着长餐桌转圈圈，咒骂他的员工。

　　This evening when my father burst in，his mood seemed even more thunderous than usual. An hour late for dinner, he could not sit down but circled the long dining room table with a drink in his hand，calling down terrible oaths on his employees.

　　他走着走着转过身停了下来，盯着他的餐盘。屋里静悄悄的，我的心悬了起来。“这是什么?”他伸手去拿我的诗。

　　He wheeled in his pacing, paused and glared at his plate.There was a suspenseful silence. "What is this?”He was reaching for my poem.

　　“本，发生了一件了不起的事，”母亲开始说话了，“巴蒂写了他的第一首诗，而且写得很好，绝对出乎意料…”

　　"Ben，a wonderful thing has happened,”my mother began，"Buddy has written his first poem! And it's beautiful，absolutely amazing..."

　　“如果你不介意，我想自己来判断。”父亲说。

　　"If you don't mind，I'd like to decide for myself,”father said.

　　他读诗时，我一直低垂着头，盯着盘子。短短十行诗似乎用了好几个小时，我记得当时不明白他为什么用了这么长的时间。我能听见我父亲的呼吸，接着听见他把诗放回到桌子上，到了作出结论的时候了。

　　I kept my face lowered to my plate as he read that poem.It was only ten lines. But it seemed to take hours. I remember wondering why it was taking so long. I could hear my father breathing. Then I could hear him dropping the poem back on the table. Now came the moment of decision.

　　“我认为写得很糟。”他说。

　　"I think it's lousy,”he said.

　　我无法抬起头，两眼开始湿润起来。

　　I couldn't look up. My eyes were getting wet.

　　“本，有时，我真不理解你，”母亲说道，“他只是个小孩子。这是他平生写的第一首诗，他需要鼓励。”

　　"Ben，sometimes I don't understand you，”my mother said. "This is just a little boy. These are the first lines of poetry he's ever written. He needs encouragement."

　　“我不明白为什么，”父亲仍坚持自己的观点，“难道世界上这样糟糕的诗还不够多吗?没有哪条法律说巴蒂必须成为诗人不可。”

　　"I don't know why,”My father held his ground，"Isn't there enough lousy poetry in the world already? No law says Buddy has to become a poet."

　　他们为此争吵起来，我再也无法忍受了，哭着跑出餐厅，到楼上我的房间，扑倒在床上抽泣起来。

　　They quarreled over it. I couldn't stand it anther second. I ran from the dining room bawling. Up in my room I threw myself on the bed and sobbed.

　　这件事好像已经过去了，但是它对我的深远意义却没有终结。同往常一样，家庭的创伤已经愈合，母亲又开始与父亲说话了，我也继续写诗，但是我不敢拿给父亲看。

　　That may have been the end of the anecdote，but not of its significance for me. Inevitably the family wounds healed. My mother began talking to my father again. I even began writing poetry again，though I dared not expose it to my father.

　　几年以后，当我再读我的第一首诗时，发现它的确写得很糟糕。过了一阵子，我鼓起勇气给父亲看一个新作品—一篇短篇小说。父亲认为写得太累赘，但并不是一无是处。我学着重新写，而母亲也开始学着批评我但又不使我有挫折感。你可以说我们都在学习。那时我快12岁了。

　　A few years later I took a second look at that first poem;it was a pretty lousy poem. After a while，I worked up the courage, to show him something new, a short story. My father thought it was overwritten but not hopeless. I was learning to rewrite.And my mother was learning that she could criticize me without crushing me. You might say we were all learning. I was going on.

　　但是直到多年以后我才渐渐地明白了痛苦的“第一首诗”的经历的真正意义，我才越来越明白自己曾经多么幸运。我有一位说“巴蒂，这当真是你写的吗?我觉得很棒”的母亲，还有一位摇头否定说“我认为写的很糟”使我流泪的父亲。一个作家—实际上我们生活中的每一个人—都需要爱的力量作为一切创作的动力，但是仅仅有爱的力量是不完整的，甚至是误导的，平衡的爱应该是告诉对方“观察、倾听、总结、提高。”

　　But it wasn't until years later that the true meaning of that painful "first poem”experience dawned on me. As it became clearer and clearer to me how fortunate I had been.I had a mother who said，"Buddy, did you really write this? I think it's wonderful!”and a father who shook his head no and drove me to tears with "I think it's lousy,”A writer- in fact every one of us in life-needs that loving force from which all creation flows. Yet alone that force is incomplete, even misleading, balance of the force that cautions, "Watch. Listen. Review. lmprove."

　　有时你会遭遇来自同事、朋友及所热爱的人的反对和压力，但是最终你必须自己平衡这种反对意见:首先要满怀信心向前走，去做该做的事情，去成为想成为的人;其次，调节你的自满情绪，冷静地、现实地评价自己。

　　Sometimes you find these opposing forces in associates,friends, loved ones. But finally you must balance these opposites within yourself:first, the confidence to go forward，to do，to become;second，the tempering of self-approval with hardheaded，realistic self-appraisal.

　　那些儿时听到的对立的而又相互补充的声音，多年以来一直在我耳畔回响—精彩极了……糟糕透了……精彩极了……糟糕透了，它们好像两股对立的风吹打在我的身上。我努力驾驶着我的航船，不让他被任何一股风颠覆。

　　Those conflicting but complementary voices of my childhood echo down through the years-wonderful...lousy... wonderful...lousy-like two opposing winds battering me. I try to navigate my craft so as not to capsize before either.

　　关于带阅读翻译的英语经典美文

　　Love

　　爱

　　Eileen Chang

　　张爱玲

　　This is real.

　　这是真的。

　　There was once a daughter of a tolerably well-off family in the country who was very lovely and sought out by many matchmakers, although nothing had come of their efforts. That year, she was only fifteen or sixteen years old. One spring evening, she stood by the back door, hands resting on a peach tree. She remembered that she was wearing a moon-white tunic.She had seen the young man who lived across the way, but they had never spoken. He walked toward her, came to a halt close by，and said softly:"So you're here，too?" She did not say anything, and he did not say more. They stood for a moment and then went their separate ways.

　　有个村庄的小康之家的女孩子，生得美，有许多人来做媒，但都没有说成。那年她不过十五六岁吧，是春天的晚上，她立在后门口，手扶着桃树。她记得她穿的是一件月白的衫子。对门住的年轻人同她见过面，可是从来没有打过招呼的，他走了过来，离得不远，站定了，轻轻的说了一声:“噢，你也在这里吗?”她没有说什么，他也没有再说什么，站了一会，各自走开了。

　　That was all.

　　就这样就完了。

　　Later, the girl was abducted by a swindler in the family and sold as a concubine in some far-off town，then sold several times more, passing through any number of trials and ordeals.When she was old, she still remembered that incident and often spoke of that evening in spring, the peach free by the back door,that young man.

　　后来这女子被亲眷拐子卖到他乡外县去作妾，又几次三番地被转卖，经过无数的惊险的风波，老了的时候她还记得从前那一回事，常常说起，在那春天的晚上，在后门口的桃树下，那年轻人。

　　When you meet the one among the millions，when amid millions of years，across the borderless wastes of time，you happen to catch him or her, neither a step too early nor a step too late, what else is there to do except to ask softly: "So you're here, too?"

　　于千万人之中遇见你所遇见的人，于千万年之中，时间的无涯的荒野里，没有早一步，也没有晚一步，刚巧赶上了，那也没有别的话可说，唯有轻轻地问一声“噢，你也在这里吗?”