甜甜小小宝Sally
下面是我为大家带来英语晨读经典美文，希望大家喜欢!
英语晨读经典美文：窗口
Two men, both seriously ill, occupied the same hospital room.One man was allowed to sit up in his bed for an hour each afternoon to help drain the ftuid from his lungs. His bed was next to the room's only window. The other man had to spend all his time flat on his back.
两个病重的男人住在同一间病房。其中一个每天下午需要在床上坐起来一个小时，以便排出肺部的流质食物。他的床靠着这间房子的唯一一扇窗户。另一个人则只能平躺在床上度日。
The men talked for hours on end. They spoke of their wives and families, their homes, their jobs, their involvement in the military anda whole lot of things. Every afternoon, when the man in the bed by the window could sit up, he would pass the time by describing to his roommate all the things he could see outside the window.
他们能连续说上好几个小时的话。他们谈论各自的妻子和家人、他们的家、他们的工作、他们参军的经历，还有好多其他的事情。每天下午，当靠着窗户的那个人能坐起来的时候，他总是向他的室友描绘他看到的窗外发生的所有事情。
The man in the other bed began to live for those one hour periods where his world would be broadened and enlivened by all the activity and color ofthe world outside.
睡在另一张床上的人开始盼望着那些—小时的生活。每当那时，他的生活就会因窗外的一切活动和多姿多彩而感到开阔和愉快。
The window overlooked a park with a lovely lake. Ducks and swans played on the water while children sailed their model boats. Young lovers walked arm in arm amidst flowers of every color and a fine view of the city skyline could be seen in the distance.
从窗口望去是一个公园，里面有一个可爱的池塘。鸭子和天鹅在水中嬉戏，孩子们则在划模型船，年轻的恋人手挽手在绚丽多彩的花丛中散步，远处是城市地平线上美丽的风景。
As the man by the window described all this in exquisite detail, the man on the other side of the room would close his eyes and imagine the picturesque scene.
靠窗的这个人用优美的语言详细描绘这些的时候，房子另一端的那个人就会闭上眼睛想象那些栩栩如生的情景。
One warm aftemoon, the man by the window described a parade passing by. Although the other man couldn't hear the band he could see it in his mind's eye as the gentleman by the window pojrtrayed it with descriptive words.
一个温和的下午，窗口的那个人描绘了经过此处的阅兵。尽管另一个人听不到乐队演奏，但他却能看到。当窗口那个人用生动的语言描绘的时候，他则用心在看。
Days and weeks passed. one morning, the day nurse arrived to bring water for theirbaths only to find the lifeless body of the man by the window, who had died peacefully in his sleep. She was saddened and called the hospital attendants to take the body away.
一天天过去了’一周周过去了。一天早晨，当值白班的护士为他们提来洗澡水，看到的却是窗口那个男人的尸体，他已经在睡梦中安然去世了.她很悲伤，便叫医院的值班人员把尸体抬走了。
As soon as it seemed appropriate, the other man asked if he could be moved next to the window. The nurse was happy to make the switch, and after making sure he was comfortable, she left him alone.
一到合适的时机，另一个人便问他能否搬到窗口那儿去。护士很乐意为他作了调换，在确信他觉得舒适后，就离开了。
Slowly, painfully, he propped himself up on one elbow to take his first look at the real world outside. He strained to slowly tum to look out the window beside the bed. It faced a blank wall.
缓慢地痛苦地，他用一个胳膊肘支撑着自己起来，想第一次亲眼看看外面的真实世界。他竭尽全力慢慢地朝床边的窗口望去看到的却只是一面墙。
The man asked the nurse what could have compelled his deceased roommate to have described such wonderful things outside this window.The nurse responded that the man was blind and could not even see thewall. She said, "Perhaps he just wanted to encourage you."
这个人问护士是什么促使他过世的室友描绘出窗外那么丰富的世界的。护士回答说，那个人是个盲人，甚至连墙都看不见。她说：“也许他只是想鼓励你。”
英语晨读经典美文：生命中小小的一部分
When he told me he was leaving I felt like a vase which has just smashed. There were pieces of me all over the tidy, tan tiles. He kept talking, telling me why he was leaving, explaining it was for the best, I could do better, it was his fault and not mine. I had heard it before many times and yet somehow was still not immune; perhaps one did not become immune to such blow.
当他告诉我他要离开的时候，我感觉自己就像花瓶裂成了碎片，跌落在干净的茶色瓷砖地板上。他一直在说话，解释着为什么要离开，说什么这是最好的选择，我可以做得更好，都是他的错，与我无关。虽然这些话我已经听上好几千遍了，可每次听完都让我很受伤，或许在这样巨大的打击面前没有人能做到无动于衷。
He left and I tried to get on with my life, I filled the kettle and put it on to boil, I took out my old red mug and filled it with coffee watching as each coffee granule slipped in to the mug. That was what my life had been like, endless omissions of coffee granules, somehow never managing to make that cup of coffee.
他走了，我尝试着继续过自己的生活。我把水壶装满水烧上，取出我那只红色的旧马克杯，倒入咖啡，看着咖啡粉末一点点地落A杯子里。这正是我现在生活的鲜活写照，不断地往下掉咖啡粉末，却从来没有真正地泡成一杯咖啡。
Somehow when the kettle piped its finishing waming I pretended not to hear it. That's what Mike's leaving had been like, sudden and with an awful finality. I would rather just wallow in uncertainty than have things finished.I laughed at myself. Imagine geffing all philosophical and sentimental about a mug of coffee. I must be getting old.
水开了，水壶发出警报声，我假装没有听见。迈克的离去也是一样，突如其来，并且无可挽回。要知道，我宁愿忍受分与不分的煎熬，也不愿意以这样的方式被宣判“死刑”。想着想着我就哑然失笑，自己竟然为一杯咖啡有如此多的人生感怀，我自己一定是老了。
And yet it was a young woman who stared back at me from the mirror. A young woman full of promise and hope, a young woman with bright eyes and full lips just waiting to take on the world. I never loved Mike anyway. Besides there are more important things. More important than love, I insist to myselffirmly. The lid goes back on the coffee just like closure on the whole Mike experience.
可镜子里回瞪着我的那个女孩还是那么年轻啊!她明目皓齿，充满了前途与希望，光明的未来在向她招手。没关系的，反正我也从来没有爱过迈克。何况，生命中还有比爱更重要的东西在等待着我，我对自己坚持说。我将咖啡罐的盖子盖好，也将所有关于迈克的记忆尘封起来。
He doesn't haunt my dreams as I feared that night. Instead I am flying far across fields and woods, looking down on those below me.Suddenly I fall to the ground and it is only when I wake up that I realize I was shot by a hunter, brought down by the burden of not the bullet but the soul of the man who shot it. I realize later, with some degree of understanding, that Mike was the hunter holding me down and I am the bird that longs to fly. The next rught my dream is similar to the previous
nights, but without the hunter.I fly free until I meet another bird who flies with me in perfect harmony. I realize with some relief that there is a bird out there for me, there is another person, not necessarily a lover perhaps just a friend, but there is someone out there who is my soul mate. I think about being a broken vase again and realize that I have glued myself back together, what Mike has is merely a little part of my time in earth, a little understanding of my physicalbeing. He has only, a little piece ofme.
那天晚上，出乎意料的是，他并没有进入到我的梦中。在梦里，我飞过田野和森林，俯瞰着大地。突然间，我掉了下来……醒来后才发现原来自己被猎人打中了，但是令我坠落的不是他的子弹，而是他的灵魂。我后来才渐渐明白，原来迈克就是那个使我坠落的猎人，而我是那只渴望飞翔的小鸟。到了第二天晚上，我仍然做了类似的梦，但是猎人不见了，我—直在自由地飞翔，直到遇上另外一只小鸟和我比翼双飞。我开始意识到，总有那么一只鸟，那么一个人在前面等我，这个人可能是我的爱人，可能只是朋友，但一定是知我懂我的人，这令我感觉如释重负。我想起自己曾经觉得像花瓶一样裂开了，这才意识到原来自己已经把自己修理好了.迈克只是我生命过程中的小小过客，他仅仅了解我的表面而已，他仅仅是我生命中小小的一部分
败家小歪歪
英语是目前世界上通用程度最高的语言,也是人们参与国际交流和竞争必备的技能。下面是我带来的每日英语晨读美文，欢迎阅读!
Causes Are People
by Susan Parker Cobbs
IT HAS NOT been easy for me to meet this assignment. In the first place, I am not a very articulate person, and then one has so many beliefs, changing and fragmented and transitory beliefs---besides the ones most central to our lives. I have tried hard to pull out and put into words my most central beliefs. I hope that what I say won’t sound either too simple or too pious.
I know that it is my deep and fixed conviction that man has within him the force of good and the power to translate force into life. For me, this means that a pattern of life that makes personal relationships more important. A pattern that makes more beautiful and attractive the personal virtues: courage, humility, selflessness and love. I used to smile at my mother because the tears came so readily to her eyes when she heard or read of some incident that called out these virtues. I don’t smile any more because I find I have become more and more responsive in the same inconvenient way to the same kind of story.
And so I believe that I both can and must work to achieve the good that is in me. The words of Socrates keep coming back to me: “The unexamined life is not worth living.” By examination we can discover what is our good and we can realize that knowledge of good means its achievement. I know that such self-examination has never been easy---Plato maintained that it was soul’s central search. It seems to me peculiarly difficult now. In a period of such rapid material expansion and such wide spread conflicts, black and white have become gray and will not easily separate.
There is a belief which follows this. If I have the potential of the good life within me and compulsion to express it, then it is a power and compulsion common to all men. What I must have for myself to conduct my search, all men must have: freedom of choice, faith in the power and the beneficent qualities of truth. What frightens me most today is the denial of these rights, because this can only come from the denial of what seems to me the essential nature of man. For if my conviction holds, man is more important than anything he has created and our great task is to bring back again into a subordinate position the monstrous superstructures of our society.
I hope this way of reducing our problems to the human equation is not simple an evasion of them. I don’t believe it is. For most of us it is the area in which we can work : the human area---with ourselves, with the people we touch, and through these two by vicarious understanding, with mankind. I believe this is the safest starting point. I watch young people these days wrestling with our mighty problems. They are much more concerned with them and involved in them than my generation of students ever was. They are deeply aware of the words “quality” and “justice” In their great desire to right wrong they are prone to forget that causes are people, that nothing matters more than people. They need to add to their crusades the warmer and more affecting virtues of compassion and love. And here again come those personal virtues that bring tears to the eyes.
One further word, I believe that the power of good within us is real and comes there from a source outside and beyond ourselves. Otherwise, I could not put my trust so firmly in it.
Keep the Innocent Eye
By Sir Hugh Casson
When I Accepted the invitation to join in "This I Believe," it was not-goodness knows-because I felt I had anything profound to contribute. I regarded it-selfishly, perhaps-as a chance to get my own ideas straight. I started, because it seemed simplest that way, with my own profession. The signposts I try to follow as an architect are these: to keep the innocent eye with which we are all born, and therefore always to be astonished; to respect the scholar but not the style snob; to like what I like without humbug, but also to train my eye and mind so that I can say why I like it; to use my head but not to be frightened to listen to my heart (for there are some things which can be learned only through emotion); finally, to develop to the best of my ability the best that lies within me.
But what, you may say, about the really big problems of life- Religion? Politics? World Affairs? Well, to be honest, these great problems do not weigh heavily upon my mind. I have always cared more for the small simplicities of life-family affection, loyalty of friends, joy in creative work.
Religion? Well, when challenged I describe myself as "Church of England," and as a child I went regularly to church. But today, though I respect churchgoing as an act of piety and enjoy its sidelines, so to speak, the music and the architecture, it holds no significance for me. Perhaps, I don't know, it is the atmosphere of death in which religion is so steeped that has discouraged me-the graveyards, the parsonical voice, the thin damp smell of stone. Even today a "holy" face conjures up not saintliness but moroseness. So, most of what I learned of Christian morality I think I really learned indirectly at home and from friends.
World Affairs? I wonder if some of you remember a famous prewar cartoon. It depicted a crocodile emerging from a peace conference and announcing to a huge flock of sheep (labeled "People of the World"), "I am so sorry we have failed. We have been unable to restrain your warlike ambitions." Frankly, I feel at home with those sheep-mild, benevolent, rather apprehensive creatures, acting together by instinct and of course very, very woolly. But I have learned too, I think, that there is still no force, not even Christianity, so strong as patriotism; that the instinctive wisdom with which we all act in moments of crisis-that queer code of conduct which is understood by all but never formulated-is a better guide than any panel of professors; and finally that it is the inferiority complex, usually the result of an unhappy or unlucky home, which is at the bottom of nearly all our troubles. Is the solution, then, no more than to see that every child has a happy home? I'm not sure that it isn't. Children are nearer truth than we are. They have the innocent eye.
If you think that such a philosophy of life is superficial or tiresomely homespun or irresponsible, I will remind you in reply that the title of this series is "This I Believe”-not "This I ought to believe," nor even "This I would like to believe”-but, "This I Believe."
Dreams Are the Stuff Life Is Made Of
By Carroll Carroll
I believe I am a very lucky man.
My entire life has been lived in the healthy area between too little and too much. I’ve never experienced financial or emotional insecurity, but everything I have, I’ve attained by my own work, not through indulgence, inheritance, or privilege.
Never having lived by the abuses of any extreme, I’ve always felt that a workman is worthy of his hire, a merchant entitled to his profit, an artist to his reward.
As a result of all this, my bargaining bump may be a little underdeveloped, so I’ve never tried to oversell myself. And though I may work for less than I know I can get, I find that because of this, I’m never so afraid of losing a job that I’m forced to compromise with my principles.
Naturally in a life as mentally, physically, emotionally, and financially fortunate as mine has been, a great many people have helped me. A few meant to, most did so by accident. I still feel I must reciprocate. This doesn’t mean that I’ve dedicated my life to my fellow man. I’m not the type. But I do feel I should help those I’m qualified to help, just as I’ve been helped by others.
What I’m saying now is, I feel, part of that pattern. I think everyone should, for his own sake, try to reduce to six hundred words the beliefs by which he lives—it’s not easy—and then compare those beliefs with what he enjoys—not in real estate and money and goods, but in love, health, happiness, and laughter.
I don’t believe we live our lives and then receive our reward or punishment in some afterlife. The life and the reward…the life and the punishment—these to me are one. This is my religion, coupled with a firm belief that there is a Supreme Being who planned this world and runs it so that “no man is an island, entire of himself…” The dishonesty of any one man subverts all honesty. The lack of ethics anywhere adulterates the whole world’s ethical content. In these—honesty and ethics—are, I think, the true spiritual values.
I believe the hope for a thoroughly honest and ethical society should never be laughed at. The most idealistic dreams have repeatedly forecast the future. Most of the things we think of today as hard, practical, and even indispensable were once merely dreams.
So I like to hope that the world need not be a dog-eat-dog jungle. I don’t think I’m my brother’s keeper. But I do think I’m obligated to be his helper. And that he has the same obligation to me.
In the last analysis, the entire pattern of my life and belief can be found in the words “do NOT do unto others that which you would NOT have others do unto you.” To say “Do unto others as you would have others DO unto you” somehow implies bargaining, an offer of favor for favor. But to restrain from acts which you, yourself, would abhor is an exercise in will power that must raise the level of human relationship.
“What is unpleasant to thyself,” says Hillel, “THAT do NOT unto thy neighbor. This is the whole law,” and he concluded, “All else is exposition.”
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