抒情英文朗诵稿(2)

　　抒情英文朗诵稿3

　　Joy in living comes from having fine emotions, trusting them, giving them the freedom of a bird in the open. Joy in living can never be assumed as a pose, or put on from the outside as a mask. People who have this joy don not need to talk about it; they radiate it. They just live out their joy and let it splash its sunlight and glow into other lives as naturally as bird sings.

　　We can never get it by working for it directly. It comes, like happiness, to those who are aiming at something higher. It is a byproduct of great, simple living. The joy of living comes from what we put into living, not from what we seek to get from it.

　　抒情英文朗诵稿4

　　Three passions, simple but overwhelmingly strong, have governed my life: the longing for love, the search for knowledge, and unbearable pity for the suffering of mankind. These passions, like great winds, have blown me hither and thither, in a waywa

　　rd course over a deep ocean of anguish, reaching to the very verge of despair.

　　I have sought love, first, because it brings ecstasy-ecstasy so great that I would often have sacrificed all the rest of my life for a few hours for this joy. I have sought it, next, because it relieves loneliness-that terrible loneliness in which one shivering consciousness looks over the rim of the world into the cold unfathomable lifeless abyss. I have sought it, finally, because in the union of love I have seen, in a mystic miniature, the prefiguring vision of the heaven that saints and poets have imagined. This is what I sought, and though it might seem too good for human life, this is what-at last-I have found.

　　With equal passion I have sought knowledge. I have wished to understand the hearts of men. I have wished to know why the stars shine...A little of this, but not much, I have achieved.

　　Love and knowledge, so far as they were possible, led upward toward the heavens. But always pity brought me back to earth. Echoes of cries of pain reverberate in my heart. Children in famine, victims tortured by oppressors, helpless old people a hated burden to their sons, and the whole world of loneliness, poverty, and pain make a mockery of what human life should be. I long to alleviate the evil, but I cannot, and I too suffer.

　　This has been my life. I have found it worth living, and would gladly live it again if the chance were offered me.

　　抒情英文朗诵稿5

　　one windy spring day, i observed young people having fun using the wind to fly their kites. multicolored creations of varying shapes and sizes filled the skies like beautiful birds darting and dancing. as the strong winds gusted against the kites, a string kept them in check.

　　instead of blowing away with the wind, they arose against it to achieve great heights. they shook and pulled, but the restraining string and the cumbersome tail kept them in tow, facing upward and against the wind. as the kites struggled and trembled against the string, they seemed to say, “let me go! let me go! i want to be free!” they soared beautifully even as they fought the restriction of the string. finally, one of the kites succeeded in breaking loose. “free at last,” it seemed to say. “free to fly with the wind.”

　　yet freedom from restraint simply put it at the mercy of an unsympathetic breeze. it fluttered ungracefully to the ground and landed in a tangled mass of weeds and string against a dead bush. “free at last” free to lie powerless in the dirt, to be blown helplessly along the ground, and to lodge lifeless against the first obstruction.

　　how much like kites we sometimes are. the heaven gives us adversity and restrictions, rules to follow from which we can grow and gain strength. restraint is a necessary counterpart to the winds of opposition. some of us tug at the rules so hard that we never soar to reach the heights we might have obtained. we keep part of the commandment and never rise high enough to get our tails off the ground.

　　let us each rise to the great heights, recognizing that some of the restraints that we may chafe under are actually the steadying force that helps us ascend and achieve.

　　抒情英文朗诵稿6

　　To Monsieur Charles Nodier, member of the French Academy, etc. Here, my dear Nodier, is a book filled with deeds that are screened from the action of the laws by the closed doors of domestic life; but as to which the finger of God, often called chance, supplies the place of human justice, and in which the moral is none the less striking and instructive because it is pointed by a scoffer. To my mind, such deeds contain great lessons for the Family and for Maternity. We shall some day realize, perhaps too late, the effects produced by the diminution of paternal authority.

　　That authority, which formerly ceased only at the death of the father, was the sole human tribunal before which domestic crimes could be arraigned; kings themselves, on special occasions, took part in executing its judgments. However good and tender a mother may be, she cannot fulfil the function of the patriarchal royalty any more than a woman can take the place of a king upon the throne. Perhaps I have never drawn a picture that shows more plainly how essential to European society is the indissoluble marriage bond, how fatal the results of feminine weakness, how great the dangers arising from selfish interests when indulged without restraint. May a society which is based solely on the power of wealth shudder as it sees the impotence of the law in dealing with the workings of a system which deifies success, and pardons every means of attaining it. May it return to the Catholic religion, for the purification of its masses through the inspiration of religious feeling, and by means of an education other than that of a lay university.

　　In the "Scenes from Military Life" so many fine natures, so many high and noble self-devotions will be set forth, that I may here be allowed to point out the depraving effect of the necessities of war upon certain minds who venture to act in domestic life as if upon the field of battle. You have cast a sagacious glance over the events of our own time; its philosophy shines, in more than one bitter reflection, through your elegant pages; you have appreciated, more clearly than other men, the havoc wrought in the mind of our country by the existence of four distinct political systems. I cannot, therefore, place this history under the protection of a more competent authority.

　　Your name may, perhaps, defend my work against the criticisms that are certain to follow it,--for where is the patient who keeps silence when the surgeon lifts the dressing from his wound? To the pleasure of dedicating this Scene to you, is joined the pride I feel in thus making known your friendship for one who here subscribes himself Your sincere admirer, De Balzac Paris, November, 1842.