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精選愛英語(yǔ)作文7篇
無(wú)論在學(xué)習(xí)、工作或是生活中,許多人都有過寫作文的經(jīng)歷,對(duì)作文都不陌生吧,作文是一種言語(yǔ)活動(dòng),具有高度的綜合性和創(chuàng)造性。相信許多人會(huì)覺得作文很難寫吧,下面是小編為大家整理的愛英語(yǔ)作文7篇,歡迎閱讀,希望大家能夠喜歡。
愛英語(yǔ)作文 篇1
People say that father’s love likes a mountain: heavy and silent. It’s heavy because he puts all his love to us and it’s silent because he does not know how to express. Faced his love, we accept it silently without saying a word to show our appreciation.
Before I was going to senior school, my father had never said a word to show his love to me, so that I thought he did not love me very much and sometimes I was upset about it. However, when I left home for senior school, he called me frequently and just asked me some simple questions like: how’s your study and life? When do you come home? or something like that. Gradually, I realize that he misses me although he would never say it out. So this is father’s love, not so obvious but
人們說,父親的愛像一座山:沉重而無(wú)聲。這是沉重的,因?yàn)樗阉械膼劢o我們,這是無(wú)聲的',因?yàn)樗恢廊绾伪磉_(dá)。面對(duì)他的愛,我們默默地接受它,不說一句話來表達(dá)我們的感激。
在我上高中之前,我的父親從來沒有說過一句話來向我表明他的愛,所以我認(rèn)為他不愛我,有時(shí)我是不高興的。然而,當(dāng)我離開家的高中,他經(jīng)常給我打電話,問我一些簡(jiǎn)單的問題,如:你的學(xué)習(xí)和生活?你什么時(shí)候回家?或類似的東西。漸漸地,我意識(shí)到他很想念我,雖然他永遠(yuǎn)不會(huì)說出來。所以這是父親的愛,而不是那么明顯
愛英語(yǔ)作文 篇2
But somehow those three little words
但不知道為什么這小小的三個(gè)字
Are the hardest ones to share.
卻最難與人分享
And fathers say I love you
而父親說我愛你
In ways that words can‘t match--
用言語(yǔ)沒法比擬的方式
With tender bed time stories
或是溫和地在床頭講故事
Or a friendly game of catch!
或是一場(chǎng)友好的捉迷藏游戲
You can see the words I love you
你可以看到我愛你這些字
In a father‘s boyish eyes
從父親孩子起的眼睛里
When he runs home,all excited,
當(dāng)他興奮地跑回家
With a poorly wrapped surprise.
臉上帶著難以掩飾的'驚喜
A father says I love you
父親說我愛你
With his strong helping hands
用他強(qiáng)有力的援助之手
With a smile when you‘re in trouble
用他的微笑幫你度過難關(guān)
With the way he understands.
用他所理解的方式
He says I love you haltingly.
他躊躇地說我愛你
With awkward tenderness--
帶著笨拙的溫柔
It‘s hard to help a four-year-old into a party dress!
幫一個(gè)四歲小孩穿上派對(duì)禮服實(shí)在是不容易!
He speaks his love unselfishly
他無(wú)私地表達(dá)他的愛
By giving all he can
付出他的全部
To make some secret dream come true.
讓心底的夢(mèng)想成真
Or follow through a plan.
或追求一個(gè)計(jì)劃
A father‘s seldom-spoken love
父親很少說出口的愛
Sounds clearly through the years--
隨著光陰流逝變得清晰
Sometimes in peals of laughter,
有時(shí)在響亮的笑聲中
Sometimes through happy tears.
有時(shí)在歡樂的淚水中
Perhaps they have to speak their love
可能他們表達(dá)他們的愛
In a fashion all their own.
只能用自己的方式
愛英語(yǔ)作文 篇3
deep beneath my heart resides my sincere gratitude to miss mo, the young lady who initiated me into the language of english. to her patient instruction, vivacious lecturing as well as her epressive story telling, i owe my love for english.
reciting tets was how i started learning english.quite a slow learner in language, i spent more time than the rest listening to the tapes and reading the tets. it is impossible for me not to remember the time when miss mo demonstrated to me the correct way of pronunciation for a thousand and one times after school. instead of a lonely boat lost on the sea of monotonous discourses, gradually i found myself a confident captain capable of steering my own way out of the intriguing ocean of word(s) upon which the great mansion of english literacy is built.
later, when we were able to manipulate the language a bit(more) freely, miss mo devised a variety of activities in which we were encouraged to participate.it is she who squeezed the limited class time for us students to sink ourselves into the fascinating world of english songs, ranging from mother goose, the carpenters to the front guard bsb.we were not supposed to merely enjoy the music, but also to interpret the lyrics in our own manner and to epress our feelings respectively. for the first time, i sensed the underlying principle both languages share and share alike; namely, the subtle relationship they bear with the culture.
on the third year of my learning english, we are granted a ten minute free show before each class, which served as "a stage to ehibit our talent".some of us gave speeches; some put on mini plays and the others still, organized debates. miss mo neyer interfere beforehand, rather, she took detailed notes and gave comments and advice in face-to-face conversations after class. i bet no one else but she knew eactly how much sacrifice had been made to boost our interest and to summon our intelligence in mastering english, yet she was the last person in the world to speak a word of it.
during the past four years since miss mo was appointed teacher of another class when i was a senior one, i went through fire and water to struggle my way out into fudan and the satisfying subject i am now majoring in. passion for english faded due to all these eperiences, however, the cadence of miss mo's enduring encouragement and the rhythm of our reciting the lessons echoes.
愛英語(yǔ)作文 篇4
父愛如樂曲,為我彈奏美妙的樂曲;
Father's love is like music, playing wonderful music for me;
父愛如泉水,在口干舌燥時(shí)給我補(bǔ)充水分。
Father's love is like spring water. When my mouth is dry, give me water.
父愛如支柱!是父親用他高大的脊背支撐著整個(gè)家。
Father's love is like a pillar! It is father who supports the whole family with his high back.
父親愛是偉大的'
Father's love is great
愛英語(yǔ)作文 篇5
父母的愛是無(wú)微不至的,記得小時(shí)候的一個(gè)冬天,我的手很冷你便拿起學(xué)搓一搓握住我的手給我取暖。
Parents love is meticulous, remember one winter when I was a child, my hand is very cold, so you pick up and learn to rub my hand to warm me.
或是在下雨天,你總是把雨傘傾向在我這邊,生怕我淋到雨。
Or on rainy days, you always lean your umbrella on my side, lest I get caught in the rain.
無(wú)論在哪里,你總是對(duì)我那么好。爸爸,我愛你,雖然所有的`父母都是這樣,但我還是覺的你是的父親!
No matter where you are, you are always so kind to me. Dad, I love you, although all parents are like this, but I still think you are the father!
愛英語(yǔ)作文 篇6
my son brendan cried his first day of school。 even mrs。 phillips, a kind, soft-spoken master of the six-year-old mind, could not coax him to a seat。 his eyes streamed, his nose ran and he clung to me like a snail on a strawberry。 i plucked him off and escaped。
it wasn't that brendan didn't like school。 he just didn't like being apart from me。 we'd had some good times, he and i, in those preschool years。 we played at the pool。 we skated on quiet morning ice。 we sampled half the treat tray at weekly neighborhood coffee parties。 now in grade 1, brendan was faced with five hours of wondering what i was doing with my day。
brendan always came home for lunch, the only one of his class not to eat at his desk。 but once home, fed and hugged, a far-away look of longing would crease his gentle brow—he wanted to go back to school to play! so i walked him back, waited with him until he spotted someone he knew, then left。 he told me once that he watched me until he couldn't see me anymore, so i always walked fast and never looked back。
one day when i took brendan back after lunch, he spied a friend, kissed me goodbye, and scampered right off。 i went, feeling pleased for him, celebrating his new independence, his entry into the first-grade social loop。 then—i didn't know why—i glanced back。 and there he was。 the playground buzzed all around him, kids everywhere, and he stood, his chin tucked close, his body held small, his face intent but not sad, blowing me kisses。 so brave, so unashamed, so completely loving, brendan was watching me go。
no book on mothering could have prepared me for that quick, raw glimpse into my child's soul。 my mind leaped 15 years ahead to him packing boxes and his dog grown old and him saying, "dry up, mom。 it's not like i'm leaving the country。" in my mind i tore up the card every mother signs saying she'll let her child go when he's ready。 i looked at my brendan, his shirt tucked in, every button done up, his toes just turned in a bit, and i thought, "ok, you're six for me forever。" with a smile i had to really dig for, i blew him a kiss, turned and walked away。
愛英語(yǔ)作文 篇7
my son brendan cried his first day of school. even mrs. phillips, a kind, soft-spoken master of the si-year-old mind, could not coa him to a seat. his eyes streamed, his nose ran and he clung to me like a snail on a strawberry. i plucked him off and escaped.
it wasnt that brendan didnt like school. he just didnt like being apart from me. wed had some good times, he and i, in those preschool years. we played at the pool. we skated on quiet morning ice. we sampled half the treat tray at weekly neighborhood coffee parties. now in grade 1, brendan was faced with five hours of wondering what i was doing with my day.
brendan always came home for lunch, the only one of his class not to eat at his desk. but once home, fed and hugged, a far-away look of longing would crease his gentle brow—he wanted to go back to school to play! so i walked him back, waited with him until he spotted someone he knew, then left. he told me once that he watched me until he couldnt see me anymore, so i always walked fast and never looked back.
one day when i took brendan back after lunch, he spied a friend, kissed me goodbye, and scampered right off. i went, feeling pleased for him, celebrating his new independence, his entry into the first-grade social loop. then—i didnt know why—i glanced back. and there he was. the playground buzzed all around him, kids everywhere, and he stood, his chin tucked close, his body held small, his face intent but not sad, blowing me kisses. so brave, so unashamed, so completely loving, brendan was watching me go.
no book on mothering could have prepared me for that quick, raw glimpse into my childs soul. my mind leaped 15 years ahead to him packing boes and his dog grown old and him saying, "dry up, mom. its not like im leaving the country." in my mind i tore up the card every mother signs saying shell let her child go when hes ready. i looked at my brendan, his shirt tucked in, every button done up, his toes just turned in a bit, and i thought, "ok, youre si for me forever." with a smile i had to really dig for, i blew him a kiss, turned and walked away.
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