无论是身处学校还是步入社会，大家都收藏过令自己印象深刻的诗歌吧，诗歌是一种抒情言志的文学体裁。诗歌的类型多样，你所见过的诗歌是什么样的呢？下面是小编为大家收集的冬天的英语小诗歌，仅供参考，欢迎大家阅读。
Tell yourself（冬日诗行）
as it gets cold and gray falls from the air
that you will go on
walking, hearing
the same tune no matter where
you find yourself --
inside the dome of dark
or under the cracking white
of the moon′s gaze in a valley of snow.
Tonight as it gets cold
tell yourself
what you know which is nothing
but the tune your bones play
as you keep going. And you will be able
for once to lie down under the small fire
of winter stars.
And if it happens that you cannot
go on or turn back and you find yourself
where you will be at the end,
tell yourself
in that final flowing of cold through your limbs
that you love what you are.
告诉你自己吧
当天气转冷，灰暗从天而降
你将继续
前行，听着
同样的曲子，不必理会
在哪里找到你自己——
黑暗的穹隆里，
或是雪谷中，月亮凝望的
咯兹作响的白色下。
今夜，当天气转冷
告诉你自己吧
你所知的全属虚无
只是当你继续赶路时
骨骼奏响的曲子。有朝一日
你终会躺下，在冬日之星
小小的火焰下。
如若那样——你不能
前进或是回头，在即临的终点
你找到你自己，
告诉你自己吧
在穿过你四肢的最后的`寒流中，
你爱你所是的一切。
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening（雪夜林畔驻马）
By Robert Frost
Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.
My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.
He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sounds the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.
The woods are lovely, dark and deep.
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.
罗伯特.弗罗斯特
我想我知道这是谁的树林.
他的家虽在那边乡村;
他看不到我驻足在此地,
伫望他的树林白雪无垠.
我的小马一定会觉得离奇,
停留于旷无农舍之地,
在这树林和冰湖中间
一年中最昏暗的冬夕.
它将它的佩铃朗朗一牵
问我有没有弄错了地点.
此外但闻微风的拂吹
和纷如鹅毛的雪片
这树林真可爱,黝黑而深邃.
可是我还要赶好几英里路才能安睡,
还要赶好几英里才能安睡.
Winter Poem（冬天的诗）
The quivering wings of the winter ant
wait for lean winter to end.
I love you in slow, dim-witted ways,
hardly speaking, one or two words only.
What caused us to live hidden?
A wound, the wind, a word, a parent.
Sometimes we wait in a helpless way,
awkwardly, not whole and not healed.
When we hid the wound, we fell back
from a human to a shelled life.
Now we feel the ants hard chest,
the carapace, the silent tongue.
The must be the way of the ant,
the winter ant, the way of those
who are wounded and want to live:
to breathe, to sense another, and to wait.
冬天的蚂蚁颤抖的翅膀
等待瘦瘦的冬天结束。
我用缓慢的，呆笨的方式爱你，
几乎不说话，仅有只言片语。
是什么导致我们各自隐藏生活？
一个伤口，风，一个言词，一个起源。
我们有时用一种无助的方式等待，
笨拙地，并非全部也未愈合。
当我们藏起伤口，我们从一个人
退缩到一个带壳的生命。
现在我们触摸到蚂蚁坚硬的胸膛，
那背甲。那沉默的舌头。
这一定是蚂蚁的方式
冬天的蚂蚁的方式，那些
被伤害的并且想生活的人的方式：
呼吸，感知他人，以及等待。
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