Студопедия
Случайная страница | ТОМ-1 | ТОМ-2 | ТОМ-3
АрхитектураБиологияГеографияДругоеИностранные языки
ИнформатикаИсторияКультураЛитератураМатематика
МедицинаМеханикаОбразованиеОхрана трудаПедагогика
ПолитикаПравоПрограммированиеПсихологияРелигия
СоциологияСпортСтроительствоФизикаФилософия
ФинансыХимияЭкологияЭкономикаЭлектроника

Listening. 1. Close your eyes and listen to the poem

He took nine years to build a part of the machine. This machine, which is in the London Science Museum, can make complex mathematical calculations. | An inventor | Writing | Office hours | Read the text and choose the best title for it. | Warming up | Reading | Questions for computer based test | Office hours | Abai (Ibrahim) Kunanbayev |


Читайте также:
  1. Bank of tests for listening practice
  2. Listening
  3. Listening
  4. LISTENING
  5. LISTENING
  6. LISTENING

1. Close your eyes and listen to the poem. Don’t try to understand every word.

● What has happened?

● How does the the writer feel about the world now?

● What words or lines can you remember?

2. Listen again, and read the poem. Answer the questions. Use your dictionary to check new words.

a) A loved one has died. What, in general, does the poet want the rest of the world to do? Why does the poet feel like this?

b) Which lines describe things that could possibly happen? Which lines describe impossible things?

c) Which verse describes the closeness of the relationship?

d) When you fall in love it is said you see the world through “rose-colored glasses”. What does this mean? In what ways is the poem the opposite of this?

 

Funeral Blues

Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,

Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,

Silence the pianos and with muffled drum

Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.

 

Let aero planes circle moaning overhead

Scribbling on the sky the message He Is Dead,

Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,

Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.

 

He was my North, my South, my East and West,

My working week and my Sunday rest,

My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;

I thought love would last forever: I was wrong.

 

The stars are not wanted now: put out every one;

Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;

Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood.

For nothing now can ever come to any good.

 

WH Auden(1907-1973)

 


Дата добавления: 2015-08-20; просмотров: 156 | Нарушение авторских прав


<== предыдущая страница | следующая страница ==>
Word nineteen| Questions for computer based test

mybiblioteka.su - 2015-2024 год. (0.006 сек.)