英语美文摘抄带翻译大全
英语美文摘抄带翻译大全
在纷繁复杂的现代社会,人们需要一个宁静的世界,为自己留一片净土,留一份闲适。静下心来吧,读读诗歌,品品美文,让自己的心清亮起来。下面是学习啦小编带来的英语美文摘抄带翻译，欢迎阅读!
英语美文摘抄带翻译篇一
Get married in an Irish way像爱尔兰人一样结婚吧
When I was having a chit-chat with my colleague, she asked me all of a sudden, “How did your husband propose to you at that time? Was it romantic?” I was numbed by her words for a while, and then burst into laughter, “My husband is a bit rigid, so do you think his proposal would be romantic?” Though I said in that way, I felt very sweet in heart when thinking of my husband’s proposing to me. To be honest, his proposal was actually by no means romantic without flowers, diamond ring and any other surprise. It was even could not be called “marriage proposal”.
At that time, he gave me a book about Ireland, which, now I am thinking was a long-established plan. At the weekend when I finished the book, he came to me and asked me whether I had finished the book. Seeing me nod my head, he felt very pleased and said to me in a low but happy voice, “If you like, we can get married in an Irish way!”
At that time, my heart was totally convinced by the romantic and sacred law of marriage in Ireland. The book told me that Ireland believes in Catholicism and prohibited divorce. Therefore, when a couple get married, they are supposed to choose the time of their marriage which ranges from 1 year to 100 years. The most impressive of this law of marriage lies in the inverse relationship between the time of marriage and the fees to be charged. If you choose 1 year for your marriage, you shall pay as much as 2, 000 sterling pounds plus receiving a dictionary-thick reference of rights and responsibilities. But if you choose 100 years, then you are very lucky and only need to pay 0.5 pound for the fees and receive a short but heart-touching note in all women’s eyes: “I have no idea the clear rights and responsibilities for my left hand to my right hand, my right leg to my left leg, my left eye to my right eye and my right sphere of brain to the left. Actually, they are an integrated whole and live by each other and cheer for each other. Finally, I would like this pink note to convey my best wishes to your one-hundred-year marriage! May you live happily all your lives!”
I still remember at that time that I said to my husband, “Ok, so sir, please choose the time you expect our marriage to last!” He said happily, “I even do not bother to think about it and would definitely choose 100 years because it is highly money-saving!”
Later, I married him, a man who would like to stay with me for 100 years. Although we are not bound by the law of marriage in Ireland, we have cherished our vow to discipline ourselves all the time. We have married like Irish people and look on our marriage as a life-long commitment and spare no effort to nourish it hand in hand as we are gradually aging together.
I also sincerely hope that every pair of lovers in the world can get married like Irish people and love and protect each other whole-heartedly by committing themselves to a 100-year marriage.
英语美文摘抄带翻译篇二
The last jar of jelly最后一罐果子冻
By Andy Skidmore
Our children grew up on peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. Even my husband and I sometimes sneak one in late at night with a glass of milk. I believe that the Earl of Sandwich himself would agree with me that the success of this universally loved concoction lies not in the brand of peanut butter used, but rather in the jelly. The right jelly delights the palate, and homemade is the only choice.
I wasn't the jelly maker in this family. My mother-in-law was. She didn't provide a wide range of flavors, either. It was either grape or blackberry. This limited choice was a welcome relief in the days of toddlers, siblings and puppies. When all around me other decisions and choices had to be made, making peanut butter and jelly sandwiches was easy. And since we liked both flavors, we usually picked whatever jar was at the front of the pantry or refrigerator.
The only contribution I made to the jelly making was to save baby food jars, which my mother-in-law would fill with the tasty gel, seal with wax and send back home with us. For the past 22 years of my married life, whenever I wanted to make a peanut butter and jelly sandwich for myself or my husband or one of the children, all I had to do was reach for one of those little jars of jelly. It was always there. Jelly making was just a way of life for my mother-in-law. She always did it, following the same rituals - from picking the fruit to setting the finished jelly on the homemade shelves in her little pantry off the kitchen.
My father-in-law died several years ago and this past December, my mother-in-law also passed away. Among the things in the house to be divided by her children were the remaining canned goods in the pantry. Each of her children chose from the many jars of tomato juice, green beans and jelly. When my husband brought his jars home, we carefully put them away in our pantry.
The other day I reached in there to retrieve jelly for a quick sandwich, and there it was. Sitting all alone on the far side of the shelf was a small jar of grape jelly. The lid was somewhat rusty in places. Written on it with a black marker was "GR" for grape and the year the jelly had been made.
As I picked up the jar, I suddenly realized something that I had failed to see earlier. I reopened the pantry door to be sure. Yes, this was it, this was the last jar of "Memommie jelly." We would always have store-bought jelly, but this was the last jar we would ever have from the patient, loving hands of my mother-in-law. Although she had been gone for nearly a year, so much of her had remained with us. We hardly ever opened a jar of jelly at the breakfast table without kidding about those thousands of little jars she had filled. Our children had never known a day without their grandmother's jelly. It seems like such a small thing, and most days it was something that was taken for granted. But today it seemed a great treasure.
Holding that last jar in my hand, my heart traveled back to meeting my mother-in-law for the first time. I could see her crying on our wedding day, and later, kissing and loving our children as if she didn't have five other grandchildren. I could see her walking the fields of the farm, patiently waiting while others tended to the cows. I could see her walking in the woods or riding the hay wagon behind the tractor. I saw her face as it looked when we surprised her by meeting her at church. I saw her caring for a sick spouse and surrounded by loving children at the funeral.
I put the jelly back on the shelf. No longer was it just a jar of jelly. It was the end of a family tradition. I guess I believed that as long as it was there, a part of my mother-in-law would always live on.
We have many things that once belonged to my husband's parents. There are guns, tools, handmade sweaters and throws, and some furniture. We have hundreds of pictures and many more memories. These are the kinds of things that you expect to survive the years and to pass on to your children. But I'm just not ready to give up this last jelly jar, and all the memories its mere presence allows me to hold onto. The jar of jelly won't keep that long. It will either have to be eaten or thrown out...but not today.
英语美文摘抄带翻译篇三
A doll from Santa送给爱丽丝妈妈的圣诞礼物
By Alice Ferguson
Alice's mother died when she was five years old. Although her nine brother and sisters were loving and caring, they were no replacement for a mother's love.
The year was 1925, and life was hard. Alice, who grew up to be my mother, told me that her family was too poor to even afford to give her a doll.
In the aftermath of her loss, Alice vowed to care for others. First, her father, then her husband, later her three children and then her grandchildren were the main focus of her life. She felt that she could make up for her sad childhood through her dedication to her own family, but an unfilled void seemed to remain.
In December 1982, I had a job at a local bank. One afternoon, we were decorating the tree in the bank lobby and singing carols, getting ready for the Christmas season. One of my customers approached me with a sample of her handiwork: beautiful handmade dolls. She was taking orders for Christmas. I decided to get one for my daughter, Katie, who was almost five years old. Then I had an idea. I asked my customer if she could make me a special doll for my mother - one with gray hair and spectacles: a grandmother doll.
The doll maker felt that this idea was certainly unique and took it on as a creative challenge. So I placed my Christmas order: two dolls, one blonde and one gray-haired for Christmas morning!
Things really started to fall into place when a friend had told me that his dad - who played Santa Claus at various charitable functions in my area - would be willing to make a visit on Christmas morning to our home to deliver my Katie her presents! Knowing that my parents would be there as well, I began to get ready for what would turn out to be one of the most memorable days of my mother's life.
Christmas Day arrived and at the planned time, so did Santa Claus. I had prepared the presents for Santa to deliver, along with one for my mother tucked into the bottom of Santa's bag. Katie was surprised and elated that Santa had come to see her at her own house, the happiest I had ever seen her in her young life.
My mother was enjoying watching her granddaughter's reaction to the visit from this special guest. As Santa turned to leave he looked once more into his knapsack and retrieved one more gift. As he asked who Alice was, my mother, taken aback by her name being called, indicated that she in fact was Alice. Santa handed her the gift, which was accompanied by a message card that read:
For Alice:
I was cleaning out my sleigh before my trip this year and came across this package that was supposed to be delivered on December 25, 1925. The present inside has aged, but I felt that you might still wish to have it. Many apologies for the lateness of the gift.
Love,
Santa Claus
My mother's reaction was one of the most profound and deeply emotional scenes I have ever witnessed. She couldn't speak but only clasped the doll she had waited fifty-seven years to receive as tears of joy coursed down her cheeks. That doll, given by "Santa," made my mother the happiest "child" alive.
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