本站小編為你精心整理了6篇《晨讀經典美文》的範文，但願對你的工作學習帶來幫助，希望你能喜歡！當然你還可以在本站搜索到更多與《晨讀經典美文》相關的範文。
My dream ended when I was born. Although I never knew it then, I just held on to something that would never come to pass. Dreams really do exist. But in the morning when you wake up, they are remembered just as a dream. That is what happened to me.
我一出生，夢想就結束了，然而當時我卻毫不知曉，仍執著於一些永無實現之日的事情。我的確懷有許多夢想。不過，當早晨醒來之時，所記起的卻只是一場夢境而已。我的經歷就是如此。
I always had the dream to dance like a beautiful ballerina twirling around and around and hearing people applaud for me. When I was young,I would twirl around and around in the fields of wildflowers that grew in my backyard.
我一直夢想着像一個美麗的芭蕾演員一樣跳舞，輕盈地旋來轉去，耳邊是人們的掌聲喝彩。小時候，我常常在自家後院長滿野花的草地上練習芭蕾舞的旋轉動作。
I thought that if I twirled faster everything would disappear and I would wake up in a new place. Reality woke me up when I heard a voice saying, “I don't know why you bother trying to dance. Ballerinas are pretty , slender little girls. Besides, you don't have the talent to even be a ballerina.” I remember how those words paralyzed every feeling in my body. I fell to the ground and wept for hours.
我想要是我轉得再快一點，眼前的一切都會消失，我將會獲得一方新的天地。然而現實喚醒了我，我聽到一個聲音説：“我不明白你為什麼不厭其煩地嘗試跳舞。跳芭蕾舞的人都長得漂亮、苗條、嬌小可愛。還有，你也沒有跳芭蕾舞的天分。”記得當時那些話讓我的全身都失去了知覺。我癱倒在地上，哭了好幾個小時。
We lived in the country by a nearby lake. I did not like to be at home.When my parents were home, my mother just yelled and criticized because nothing was ever perfect in her life. She dreamed of a different life but she ended up living in the country far away from the city where she believed her dreams would have come true.
我們家住在鄉下，附近有一個湖。我不喜歡待在家裏，媽媽總是在家裏大喊大叫着抱怨生活處處不如意。 她曾經夢想着能夠住在城市裏，只有在那裏她的理想才能實現，而後來卻住在這遠離城市的鄉下，這與她的`理想大相徑庭。
I enjoyed hanging out by the water. I would sit there for hours and stare at my reflection. There I was, looking nothing like a pretty ballerina dancer. Reflections don't lie. Once the waves would come, my reflection was gone. Washed away just like my dream to dance.
我喜歡到水邊待着，在那兒，我常常一坐就是幾個小時，靜靜地望着水中我的倒影。水中的我哪也不像一個漂亮的芭蕾舞演員，倒影從不撒謊。微波盪過，倒影消失了'就像我跳舞的夢想一樣消失了。
As I grew older, I began to realize that the reason my dream was even born, was because it was something that was. inside of me. The dream I had was never nurtured and cared for, so it slowly died. It's not that I wanted it to die, but I allowed it to die the day I started listening to the words, “You can't do it.” When I finally woke up from many years of dreaming, I realized that you can't settle for dancing in the wildflowers, you have to move on to the platform。
隨着我的成長我開始明白之所以我的夢想會產生，是因為它就在我心裏。而我從未培育和呵護過它，因此它慢慢地死去了。我並不想讓它死去，但是從我聽到“你辦不到”這種話的那一天，我就放任了它的離去。最後，當我從多年來的夢想中醒來時，我才明白過來 你不能滿足於在野花叢中跳舞，你必須設法到舞台上去跳。
Inside the Russian Embassy in London a KGB colonel pufTed a cigarette as he read the handwritten note for the third time. There was no need for the writer to express regret, he thought. Correcting this problem would be easy. He would do that in a moment. The thought of it caused a grim smile to appear and joy to his heart. But he pushed away those thoughts and tumed his attention to a framed photograph on his desk. His wife was beautiful, he told himself as he remembered the day they were
married. That was forty-three years ago, and it had been the proudest and happiest day ofhis life,
在倫敦的俄國使館，一位克格勃上校一邊抽着煙，一邊讀着一張手寫的字條，這已是他第3次在讀這張字條了口便條的作者不必表示遺憾了，上校這樣想着。糾正這個錯誤其實很容易。他只要一會兒工夫便會做到。想到這裏，他的臉上不禁浮現出一種可怕 的笑容，內心深處充滿了快樂之情。上校從沉思中游離出來，將注意力集中到桌子上的一個像框上，他的妻子是位美麗的女人，當想起他們成婚的那一天時他不禁自語道。那已是43年前的事情了'可卻是他一生中最自豪最幸福的日子。
What had happened to all that time? Why had it passed so quickly, and why hadn't he spent more ofit with her? Why hadn't he held her close and told her more often that he loved her?He cursed himself as a tear came from the comer ofhis eye, ran down his cheek, and then dropped onto the note. He stitTened and wiped his face with the back of his hand. There was no need for remorse or regret, he told himself. In a few moments he would join her and at that time would express his undying love and
devotion.
那些時候都發生了什麼?為什麼時光流逝得如此之快?為什麼他沒能將更多的時光用來陪伴她?為什麼他沒能將她摟緊，更多次地告訴她他愛她? 他於是開始詛咒起自己，淚水也忍不住奪眶而出，流過面頰，最後滴落在字條上。這時，他板起了面孔，用手背揩去了眼淚。已經沒有必要來自責與悔恨了他對自己説道。很快他不就會與她團聚了嗎?到那時，他將再向她表達他永恆的愛與忠心。
After setting the note ablaze he dropped it into an ashtray and watched it burn. For a time the blaze cast moving shadows on the walls of the darkened room, then they nickered and died out. The colonel dropped the cigarette to the floor and ground it out with his heel, then clutched the photograph to his breast, removed a pistol from his pocket, placed the barrel in his mouth and pulled the trier. In the ashtray a small portion of the note remained. Where it had been wetted by his tear it had failed to bum, and on that scrap of paper were the words “died yesterday”.
他點燃了字條，將它扔進了煙灰缸中，看着它慢慢地燃燒起來。在火苗的映襯下，這間漆黑的屋子裏的四壁一時變得影影綽綽。不一會兒 ，火苗成了星星點點，漸漸地熄滅了。上校把香煙扔在了地板上，用後腳跟將其碾滅，隨後抓起照片放在自己的胸前。他從衣兜中掏出一把手 槍，將槍筒放進自己的嘴中，接着扣動了扳機。在煙灰缸中還殘留着—小片字條，由於被上校的淚水浸濕而未能燃盡。在這塊殘片上有這樣幾個字“昨天去世”。
Laziness is a sin: everyone knows that. We have probably all had lectures pointing out that laziness is immoral, that it is wasteful, and that lazy people will never amount to anything in life. But laziness can be more harmful than that, and it is often caused by more complex reasons than the simple wish to avoid work. Some people who appear to be lazy are suffering from much more serious problems. They may be so distrustful of their fellow workers hat they are unable to join in any group task for fear of being laughed at or fear of having their ideas stolen. These people who seem lazy may be deadened by a fear of failure that prevents fruitful work. Or other sorts of fantasies may prevent work: some people are so busy planning, sometimes planning great deals of fantastic achievements, that they are unable to deal with whatever“lesser” work is on hand. Still other people are not avoiding work, strictly speaking; they are nearly procrastinating—rescheduling their day. Laziness can actually be helpful. Like procrastinators, some people look lazy when they are really thinking, planning, researching. We should all remember that some great scientific discoverise occurred by chance. Newton wasn’t working in the orchard when the apple hit him and he devised the theory of gravity. All of us would like to have someone “lazy” build the car or stove we buy, particularly if that “laziness”—were caused by the worker’s taking time to check each step of his work and to do his job right. And sometimes, being “lazy”, that is, taking time off for a rest is good for the overworked students or executive. Taking a rest can be particularly helpful to the athlete who is trying too hard or the doctor who’s simply working himself overtime too many evenings at the clinic. So be careful when you’re tempted to call someone lazy. That person may be thinking, resting or planning his or her next book
Books are to mankind what memory is to the individual. They contain the history of our race, the discoveries we have made, the accumulated knowledge and experience of ages; they picture for us the miracles and beauties of nature, help us in our difficulties, comfort us in sorrow and in suffering, change hours of weariness into moments of delight, store our minds with ideas, fill them with good and happy thoughts, and lift us out of and above ourselves. Many of those who have had, as we say, all that this world can give, have yet told us they owed much of their purest happiness to books. Macaulay had wealth and fame, rank and power, and yet he tells us in his biography that he owed the happiest hours of his life to books. He says, “If any one would make me the greatest king that ever lived, with palaces and gardens and fine dinners, and wines and coaches, and beautiful clothes, and hundreds of servants, on condition that I should not read books, I would not be a king; I would rather be a poor man in a garret with plenty of books than a king who didn’t love reading.” Precious and priceless are the blessings which the books scatter around our daily paths. We walk, in imagination, with the noblest spirits, through the most solemn and charming regions. Without stirring from our firesides we may roam to the most remote regions of the earth, or soar into realms when Spenser's shapes of unearthly beauty flock to meet us, where Milton's angels peal in our ears the choral hymns of Paradise. Science, art, literature, philosophy, —all that man has thought, all that man has done, —the experience that has been bought with the sufferings of a hundred generations, —all are garnered up for us in the world of books.
Here is a story. A participant in the long-distance race got his shoes filled with sand when he was crossing a beach. He had to stop to get the sand out hastily before he resumed running. Unfortunately a grain of sand remained rubbing the sole and became increasingly telling so that each step meant a twinge of pain. Reluctant to halt and get rid of the sand， he continued to run in spite of the pain until he could stand no more. He dropped out of the contest just a few yards from the finishing line. As he managed to get out of the shoe painfully， he was surprised to find the cause of his lasting torment was only a grain of sand. It seems that the greatest obstacle on one’s way forward may not be a high mountain or a deep valley but a grain of sand that is hardly visible. To avoid blame on a minor fault one may tell a lie. That adds a burden to a heavy heart and weighs it down. In the days to come he will have to fabricate one falsehood after another to cover the lie he told and the fault he committed. Thus he will never be able to free himself from lingering anxiety, worry and regret, to the ignorance that all his sufferings originate in only a grain of sand —the first lie he told.
It’s a sin around here to not thoroughly enjoy every moment of every golden day. It’s embarrassing to answer, “Did you get out and enjoy the sunshine this weekend?” with “No, I stayed inside.” Co-workers frown and exchange suspicious looks; apparently I’m one of those rain-loving slugs. I tried lying, but my pale complexion gave me away. Another mark in rain’s favor is that my body doesn’t betray me when it’s cold and damp outside. Throughout the winter, people wear several layers, with perhaps several extra pounds here and there. In June I dig out my shorts to discover my thighs resemble cottage cheese. I dread buying a swimsuit, as consecutive horror and humiliation make me cringe in the dressing room. Even my tastebuds prefer the rain. When it storms outside, it’s time for steamy hot chocolate or even a soothing toddy. People devour hot, hearty meals, with lots of potatoes and savory sauces. This type of eating evaporates when the sun comes out; suddenly everyone offers salads and ice water and expects it to be satisfying. It’s time to publicly acknowledge that I love the rain. How it transforms my house into a cozy cave where I can spend the afternoon cooking and dreaming. It seems nobody else will admit to a love affair with the rain, nobody else will groan when it’s hot outside and join me in a rain dance. When the sun comes out I do greet it with a smile, slipping sunglasses to my purse and pulling a tank top out of my closet. Yet my comfortable sweaters and warm slippers beckon, making me wish for another wet, chilly afternoon. When the rain returns, I will grin even more. Am I the only one?在這樣絢麗多彩的日子不出去盡情享受這美妙的時刻好像不合情理。當別人問“你週末出去享受陽光了嗎?”，你如果回答“沒有，我呆在家裏了。”是很令人尷尬的。同事們皺起眉頭並相互交換猜疑的表情，很明顯我就是那種喜歡下雨天的懶蛋兒。我試圖撒謊，但我蒼白的臉色總會出賣我。 我喜歡雨的另一個原因是，當室外天氣較冷且潮濕時，我的身體不會跟我作對。整個冬天，人們都穿着好幾層衣服，可能這兒那兒的多重了幾磅。在六月份我就翻出了短褲，結果卻發現我的大腿就像白軟乾酪似的。我害怕買游泳衣，由於接二連三令人恐怖和丟面子的情形發生，使得我總是躲在更衣室裏。 甚至我的味蕾也喜歡雨天，外面狂風暴雨時，正是吃熱巧克力或者喝輕柔的棕櫚汁的好時機。人們吞吃着豐盛的熱肉、許多土豆以及風味極佳的調味品。等太陽出來了就不使用這種吃法了，猛然間每個人都吃沙拉以及冰水，認為這就能使人滿意了。 現在我該公開宣佈了：我喜歡雨，是它把我的.家變成了一個温暖而舒適的小窩。我可以花整個下午的時間邊做飯邊胡思亂想。似乎沒有其他人願意承認喜歡雨，但在外面很熱時，也沒有人為加入我的祈雨舞會而感到猶豫。 太陽出來時我一樣會笑臉相迎，把太陽鏡塞進包裏，從壁櫥中取出緊身背心。然而我舒適的羊毛衫和温暖的拖鞋又在召喚我了，讓我期待有雨而寒冷的下午再次到來。雨又回來時我甚至更為高興。我是惟一一個這樣的人嗎?這篇材料你能聽出多少？點擊這裏做聽寫，提高外語水平
蒙田範文網