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你的老师理解错了。只用介词短语写英文诗,是美国中学英语课里的标准训练,要求是每行以介词开头,名词结尾,不能有动词。通常最后一行打破格式,叫做"element of surprise"。只用介词而不用任何其它词,是写不成任何东西的。
我给你写个自创的介词短语诗,凡是在美国上过中学的人都会写:
1. Spring 春天
On the road
To Kentucky
Along the river bank
In the valley
Between two mountains
Under the bright sunshine
Among the blooming flowers
With the soft touch
Of the light spring breeze
You are blushing
hussein_bond原创
下面这首是网上抄来的:
2. On the Court 篮球场上
Around the opponent
Down the court
To the top of the key
Between the forwards
Toward the basket
Above my head
Near a victory
In the hoop
Swish!
我给你写个自创的介词短语诗,凡是在美国上过中学的人都会写:
1. Spring 春天
On the road
To Kentucky
Along the river bank
In the valley
Between two mountains
Under the bright sunshine
Among the blooming flowers
With the soft touch
Of the light spring breeze
You are blushing
hussein_bond原创
下面这首是网上抄来的:
2. On the Court 篮球场上
Around the opponent
Down the court
To the top of the key
Between the forwards
Toward the basket
Above my head
Near a victory
In the hoop
Swish!
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可以来《世界上最遥远的距离》
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你似乎没理解我的意思,,我曾见过一首全部用介词写成的诗,但现在找不到了,希望大家能帮一下
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哦,没理解,现在理解了,呵呵。
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Ruth Heller's Behind the Mask
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能发原文上来吗?找不到诶
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这首诗是个典范!不是完全由介词组成的(有可能吗?)是每一句的开头
Out of the Cradle Endlessly Rocking
by Walt Whitman
Out of the cradle endlessly rocking,
Out of the mocking-bird's throat, the musical shuttle,
Out of the Ninth-month midnight,
Over the sterile sands and the fields beyond, where the child
leaving his bed wander'd alone, bareheaded, barefoot,
Down from the shower'd halo,
Up from the mystic play of shadows twining and twisting as
if they were alive,
Out from the patches of briers and blackberries,
From the memories of the bird that chanted to me,
From your memories sad brother, from the fitful risings and
fallings I heard,
From under that yellow half-moon late-risen and swollen as
if with tears,
From those beginning notes of yearning and love there in
the mist,
From the thousand responses of my heart never to cease,
From the myriad thence-arous'd words,
From the word stronger and more delicious than any,
From such as now they start the scene revisiting,
As a flock, twittering, rising, or overhead passing,
Borne hither, ere all eludes me, hurriedly,
A man, yet by these tears a little boy again,
Throwing myself on the sand, confronting the waves,
I, chanter of pains and joys, uniter of here and hereafter,
Taking all hints to use them, but swiftly leaping beyond them,
A reminiscence sing.
Once Paumanok,
When the lilac-scent was in the air and Fifth-month grass
was growing,
Up this seashore in some briers,
Two feather'd guests from Alabama, two together,
And their nest, and four light-green eggs spotted with brown,
And every day the he-bird to and fro near at hand,
And every day the she-bird crouch'd on her nest, silent, with
bright eyes,
And every day I, a curious boy, never too close, never
disturbing them,
Cautiously peering, absorbing, translating.
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