优美英语美文欣赏
优美的文字于细微处传达出美感，并浸润着人们的心灵。通过英语美文，不仅能够感受语言之美，领悟语言之用，还能产生学习语言的兴趣。度过一段美好的时光，即感悟生活，触动心灵。下面学习啦小编为大家带来优美英语美文欣赏，希望大家喜欢!
优美英语美文欣赏：幸运帽
Dear Arizona,
亲爱的亚利桑那：
My brother is so lucky. Good stuff is always happening to him. Do you believe in luck? And if so, how can I get more of it?
我的兄弟运气特别好，常有好事发生在他身上。你相信运气吗?如果真有运气，我怎样才能得到更多一些呢?
—Looking for Luck in Louisiana
——身在路易斯安那寻找好运的人
Dear Looking,
亲爱的运气寻觅者：
I was eating breakfast with one hand, petting my cat, Cow, with the other, and reading the back of the cereal box, when—“YOUCH!” I screamed. “Why’d you pinch me?”
我当时正一手吃早餐，一手爱抚着我的猫“牛牛”，同时在看燕麦片盒子背面的信息。就在这时——“哎呦”，我尖叫起来，“你干嘛捏我?”
“You’re not wearing green,” said my little brother, Tex. “Everyone knows you get pinched if you don’t wear green on Saint Patrick’s Day!”
“因为你没穿绿色衣服，”我的小弟弟特克斯说，“人人都知道如果在圣帕特里克节里不穿绿色衣服就会被捏!”
“It’s true,” said my little sister, Indi.
“这是真的!”我的小妹妹英蒂说。
I was mostly mad about getting pinched, but also a tiny bit glad about being reminded that it was Saint Patrick’s Day.
我对自己被掐感到非常生气，但有一点儿值得高兴的是，这提醒了我今天是圣帕特里克节。
I panicked. “What am I going to do? I don’t have time to change. I’ll get pinched all day long!”
我惊慌失措：“我该怎么办?我没时间换衣服了。一整天我都会被人捏的!”
“Well,” Tex said, taking the old green baseball cap off his head, “you could borrow my lucky hat.”
“好吧，”特克斯从他头上摘下那顶绿色的旧棒球帽，说，“你可以借我的幸运帽。”
“But it’s your favorite!” I said.
“但它可是你的最爱。”我说。
“I know,” said Tex. “Just promise to give it back after school.”
我知道，”特克斯说，“只要你答应放学后还给我就行了。”
“No problem,” I said, glancing in the mirror on my way out the door. “I look like a goofball in this thing!”
“没问题，”我说。出门前，我照了照镜子。“戴上这个东西，我看上去就像个傻瓜!”
“A lucky goofball!” said Tex.
“一个幸运的傻瓜!”特克斯说。
“Hum.” I grabbed my backpack. “Thanks, I think.”
“嗯，”我抓起书包说道，“好吧，谢谢。”
Now, before I go on, you should know that I’m not an overly superstitious person. I don’t believe that thirteen is an unlucky number or that breaking a mirror brings seven years of bad luck. I definitely don’t freak out if a black cat crosses my path. And when it comes to things like lucky four-leaf clovers and lucky pennies, I just never believed in them.
说到这里，你要知道我不是个极其迷信的人。我不认为13是个倒霉的数字，或者打碎镜子会带来7年的厄运。我决不会因为一只黑猫在我面前走过而被吓坏，也决不会相信诸如幸运四叶草、幸运便士这类东西。
Anyway, I was racing to catch the school bus, and I saw a dollar on the sidewalk! I looked around to see if anyone was looking for it, but people just kept stepping on the poor thing, so I decided to rescue it. I’d found pennies and nickels before, but never a dollar! Then, I didn’t miss the bus, because the bus was even later than me—which never happens!
不管怎样，当我正拼命追赶校车 时，我看到人行道上有张一美元的钞票!我环顾四周，看看有没人在找它，可人们都相继踩过这个可怜的家伙，所以我决定营救它。以前我捡过便士和镍币，可从没 发现过一美元的钞票。随后，我没有错过校车，因为校车甚至比我还晚到——这是从未发生过的!
My luck didn’t stop there. Carlos and Jackson were sitting behind me, quizzing each other on spelling words. I turned around and said, “You guys know that test isn’t till tomorrow, right?”
我的运气并未就此打住。卡洛斯和杰克逊刚好坐在我后面，正相互考单词拼写。我转过头去，说：“你们知道明天才测验，对吗?”
“It got switched to this morning,” said Jackson. “Remember? There’s some assembly tomorrow. ”
“已经改到今天早上了。”杰克逊说，“记得吗?明天有个大会要开。”
“That’s right. I totally forgot!” I said. “I’m so lucky that I sat in front of you. If I hadn’t, I wouldn’t have found out till it was too late!” I got out my spelling words, studied all the way to school. And ended up acing the test!
“对哦。我忘得一干二净!”我说，“坐在你们前面我多么幸运啊。不然，到我发现已经晚了。”我拿出要考的单词表来，去学校的一路上，我都在复习。最终，我考了个好成绩。
The minute I got home, I gave Tex a gigantic hug.
一回到家，我就给特克斯一个大大的拥抱。
“This is the luckiest hat in the world,” I said. “I’m never taking it off!”
“这是世界上最幸运的帽子。”我说，“我永远都不取下来了!”
“But you promised to give it back!” said Tex.
“但你答应过要还给我的。”特克斯说。
“I know, but…” I pretended to try to pull the hat off my head. “I think it’s stuck.”
“我知道，但是……”我假装试图把帽子摘下来，“我想它粘住了。”
“It is not!” said Tex.
“没有!”特克斯说。
“Please-oh-please let me borrow your lucky hat for one more day!” I begged.
“求求你把你的幸运帽借我再用一天。”我请求道。
“Tomorrow I’m auditioning for the school play, and I need every bit of help I can get.”
“明天我要参加学校话剧表演的选角面试，我需要得到所有帮助。”
“OK,” said Tex. “One more day. But you’d better be really nice to me.”
“好吧，”特克斯说，“再借一天。但你最好真得对我好点。”
“I will,” I agreed. “In fact, here you can have my lucky dollar!” Tex let out a whoop, then started dancing around and waving his gift in the air.
“我会的，”我同意道，“这样，我这张幸运美元给你!”特克斯欢呼了一声，接着，他一边在空中挥舞着他的礼物，一边开始在四周跳起舞来。
The next day turned out to be super lucky. My audition couldn’t have gone better.
第二天，我的运气棒极了。我的试演再好不过了。
“Wow, Arizona!” said my friend Mareya. “I can’t believe how amazingly you just did! You are so getting a major part in this play!”
“哇，亚利桑那!”我的朋友玛瑞娅说，“你刚刚的表演太令人吃惊了，我简直不敢相信!你肯定可以在这部话剧里演主角!”
“Thanks! You did really great, too!” I said. “But honestly, the only reason I did OK is because I had my lucky hat.”
“谢谢!你也表演得很棒!”我回答道，“不过，老实说，我表演好全因为我有一顶幸运帽。”
“What lucky hat?” asked Mareya.
“什么幸运帽?”玛瑞娅问。
“This one,” I said, reaching into my backpack, where I thought I’d put Tex’s hat since I couldn’t wear it for the audition. But it wasn’t there! “Oh no!” I cried. “It’s gone! What am I going to tell Tex?”
“就是这个，”我边说边把手伸进书包里，我以为我把特克斯的帽子放在书包里了，因为我不能戴着它表演。但帽子不在里面!“哦，不!”我喊道，“它不见了!我怎么跟特克斯交代啊?”
Mareya helped me look for it. Luckily, we found Tex’s hat in my locker. Also luckily, I discovered that I could be lucky with or without a goofy-looking cap in my possession.
玛瑞娅也帮我找，幸运的是，我们发现原来帽子放在我的储物柜里了。同样幸运的是，我发现无论戴不戴那顶落入我手中让我看起来滑稽可笑的帽子，我都会有好运。
“So it wasn’t the hat,” said Mareya. “This is just a wild guess, but maybe it was all those hours you spent practicing over the past month.”
“所以，并不是因为那顶帽子，”玛瑞娅说，“那不过是瞎猜罢了。也许那是你过去一个月里刻苦练习的结果。”
“Hmm,” I said. “It’s possible.”
“嗯，”我说，“可能是!”
So, dear Looking, I guess you could say that luck is a combination of being prepared, believing in yourself…and maybe just a tiny bit of magic! In other words, luck may come your way, but you have to be ready for it when it does!
所以，亲爱的运气寻觅者，我想你可以说幸运是这样一个组合——做好准备，相信自己……也许再加上一点点的魔法!换言之，幸运也许正向你走来，但在它降临时，你得做好准备!
Ciao for now.
写到这里。再见。
Arizona
亚利桑那
优美英语美文欣赏：尽在不言中
When I read a book from my mother’s shelves, it’s not unusual to come across a gap in the text. A paragraph, or maybe just a sentence, has been sliced out, leaving a window in its place, with words from the next page peeping through. The chopped up page looks like a nearly complete jigsaw puzzle waiting for its missing piece. But the piece isn’t lost, and I always know where to find it. Dozens of quotations, clipped from newspapers, magazines—and books—plaster one wall of my mother’s kitchen. What means the most to my mother in her books she excises and displays.
当我翻看妈妈书架上的书时，常常会发现其中的文字缺了一部分。其中的一个段落，或可能只是一个句子，被剪了下来，在原来的位置上留下了一扇窗户，让后一页上的文字探头探脑地露了出来。被挖掉一块的那一页看上去就像是一幅几乎就要完成的拼图作品，等待着缺失的那一块拼图。但那一块拼图并没有丢，而且我总是知道在哪儿能找到它。在我妈妈的厨房里，从报纸上、杂志上——还有书上——剪下的纸片贴满了一面墙。在她的书里，那些她最喜欢的句子和段落都被她剪了下来，贴在墙上。
I’ve never told her, but those literary amputations appall me. I know Ann Patchett and Dorothy Sayers, and Somerset Maugham would fume alongside me, their careful prose severed from its rightful place. She picks extracts that startle me, too: “Put your worst foot forward, because then if people can still stand you, you can be yourself.” Sometimes I stand reading the wall of quotations, holding a scissors-victim novel in my hand, puzzling over what draws my mother to these particular words.
我从未当面和她说过，但她对文学作品的这种“截肢手术”的确让我感到震惊。我知道，安•帕契特、多萝西•塞耶斯和萨默塞特•毛姆也在我身旁气得冒烟呢，怎么能把这些他们呕心沥血写出来的文字就这样从它们原来的位置上“截肢”了呢!她挑出来的那些段落也着实吓了我一跳，比如：“以你最糟糕的一面示人，因为如果那样人们也能容忍你的话，你就能做真正的自己了。”有时候，我会站在那儿读墙上那些书摘，手里拿着一本备受剪刀“迫害”的小说，心里充满困惑，不知道到底是什么驱使妈妈剪下了这样一些稀奇古怪的句子。
My own quotation collection is more hidden and delicate. I copy favorite lines into a spiral-bound journal-a Christmas present from my mother, actually—in soft, gray No. 2 pencil. This means my books remain whole. The labor required makes selection a cutthroat process: Do I really love these two pages of On Chesil Beach enough to transcribe them, word by finger-cramping word? (The answer was yes, the pages were that exquisite.)
我也摘录和收藏文字，不过我的收藏更为隐秘和精致。我会用灰色的二号软芯铅笔把我最喜欢的句子摘抄到一个活页日记本里——事实上，这还是我妈妈送我的一份圣诞礼物呢。也就是说，我的书都是完整的。但因为摘抄需要工夫，因此选择哪些文字摘抄就成了一个痛苦的过程：我是不是真的喜欢《在切瑟尔海滩上》里的这两页文字?喜欢到我愿意一个字一个字地把它们抄下来，直抄到手指头都抽筋?(答案为“是”，因为这两页文字写得实在太美了。)
My mother doesn’t know any of this. She doesn’t know I prefer copying out to cutting out. I’ve never told her that I compile quotations at all.
我妈妈一点也不知道这件事。她不知道与剪贴相比，我更喜欢抄录。我压根就没告诉过她我也收集自己喜欢的文字。
There’s nothing very shocking about that; for all our chatting, we don’t have the words to begin certain conversations. My mother and I talk on the phone at least once a week, and in some ways, we are each other’s most dedicated listener. She tells me about teaching English to the leathery Russian ladies at the library where she volunteers; I tell her about job applications, cover letters, and a grant I’d like to win. We talk about my siblings, her siblings, the president, and Philip Seymour Hoffman movies. We make each other laugh so hard that I choke and she cries. But what we don’t say could fill up rooms. Fights with my father. Small failures in school. Anything, really, that pierces us.
其实这一点没什么值得大惊小怪的;尽管我们总是聊天，但对于某些特定的话题，我们总是不知道该怎么开口。妈妈和我一个星期至少会通一次电话，从某些方面来说,我们是对方最专心的听众。她会告诉我她在图书馆做志愿者教那些强悍的俄罗斯妇女英语时发生的事;而我会和她谈谈我找工作的事、我的求职信，还有我想要争取的补助什么的。我们会聊我的兄弟姐妹、她的兄弟姐妹、总统，还有菲利普•塞默•霍夫曼的电影。我们常常逗得对方大笑，笑得我喘不过气来，笑得她眼泪都流出来了。但我们不聊的东西也很多，多得几个房间都装不下。譬如她和我爸吵架了，又譬如我在学校遇到一些小挫折了。事实上，所有让我们伤心的事，我们都避而不谈。
I like to say that my mother has never told me “I love you.” There’s something reassuring in its self-pitying simplicity—as if the three-word absence explains who I am and wins me sympathy-so I carry it with me, like a label on my back. I synthesize our cumbersome relationship with an easy shorthand: my mother never said “I love you”. The last time my mother almost spoke the words was two years ago, when she called to tell me that a friend had been hospitalized.
我常常说，妈妈从来没和我说过“我爱你”。这句有点自怜的简单话语听起来颇有些自我安慰的味道——仿佛这三个字的缺失就为我为什么成为现在的我提供了借口，还为我赢得了同情——于是，我总是把这句话挂在嘴边，就像把它贴在背上当标签一样。对于我和妈妈之间的这种微妙关系，我总是简单地用一句“谁让她从来不说‘我爱你’”来总结。上一次妈妈差点说出这几个字是在两年前，当时她给我打电话，告诉我她有个朋友住院了。
I said, “I love you, Mom.” She said, “Thank you.” I haven’t said it since, but I’ve thought about it, and I’ve wondered why my mother doesn’t. A couple of years ago, I found a poem by Robert Hershon called “Sentimental Moment or Why Did the Baguette Cross the Road?” that supplied words for the blank spaces I try to understand in our conversations:
我对她说：“我爱你，妈妈。” 而她说:“谢谢。” 这件事后来我再没提过，但却始终在我的脑海里盘旋不去，我一直想知道为什么我妈妈从来不说这几个字。几年前，我读到罗伯特•赫尔希写的一首诗，诗名叫《感伤的时刻或面包为什么要过马路?》，这首诗填补了我和妈妈的对话中许多我不能理解的空白：
Don’t fill up on bread. I say absent-mindedly. The servings here are huge. My son, whose hair may be receding a bit, says: Did you really just say that to me? What he doesn’t knowis that when we’re walking together, when we get to the curb. I sometimes start to reachfor his hand.
别用面包把肚子塞满了。我心不在焉地说。这儿的菜量大得很，我的儿子，我那发线已开始后退少许的儿子，对我说：你怎么会跟我说这样的话? 他不知道的是当我们一起散步时，当我们走到马路边时，我有时会不自觉地伸出手想要去牵他的手。
It’s a humble poem, small in scope, not the stuff of epic heartbreak, yet poignant. After copying it down in my quotation journal, my wrist smudging the pencil into a gray haze as I wrote, I opened an e-mail I had begun to my mother, and added a postscript: “This poem made me think of you,” with the 13 lines cut and pasted below. My mother doesn’t read poetry—or at least, she doesn’t tell me that she reads poetry-and I felt nervous clicking, “Send” .
这是一首朴实无华的小诗，篇幅不长，不是动人心魄的宏伟诗篇，但读了却让人感到有点心酸。我把它抄在了我的书摘日记本里，写的时候，手腕把灰色的铅笔字迹都蹭模糊了。然后，我打开一封写给妈妈的电子邮件，信已经开了头，我在后面加上了附言：“这首诗让我想起了你。”然后，我在电脑上把这首13行诗剪切下来，粘贴在了邮件下面。我妈妈从来不读诗——或至少她从没告诉过我她读诗——所以，点下“发送”键时，我感到心中隐隐的紧张和不安。
She never mentioned the poem. But the next time I went home for vacation, I noticed something new in the kitchen. Not on her quotation wall, but across the room, fixed to an antique magnetic board: Robert Hershon’s poem, printed on a scrap of white paper in the old-fashioned font of a typewriter. The board hung above the radiator, where we drape wet rags and mittens dripping with snow, in the warmest spot in the kitchen. The poem still hangs there. Neither my mother nor I have ever spoken about it.
她从未和我提起过这首诗，但后来放假回家时，我注意到厨房里有了样新东西。这次不是在她常常粘纸片的墙上，而是在厨房的另一头，粘在一块老旧的磁力板上：罗伯特•赫尔希的诗。诗打印在一小片白纸上，字体有点过时，像是打字机打出来的字体。这块板子高高挂在暖气片的上方，那儿可是厨房里最温暖的地方，我们常在那儿挂湿抹布和粘着雪的手套。那首诗现在还挂在那儿，但无论妈妈还是我，都从未开口谈论过它。
