The verbs in English are a fright...
Mar. 16th, 2004 03:01 pmСтихи, написанные моей коллегой, переводчицей с испанского, для детей, изучающих английский. Enjoy!
The verbs in English are a fright.
How can we learn to read and write?
Today we speak, but first we spoke:
Some faucets leak, but never loke.
Today we write, but first we wrote;
We bite our tongues, but never bote.
Each day I teach, for years I taught,
And preachers preach, but never praught.
This tale I tell, this tale I told;
I smell the flowers, but never smold.
If knights still slay, as once they slew,
Then do we play, as once we plew?
If I still do as once I did,
Then do cows moo, as once they mid?
I love to win, and games I’ve won;
I seldom sin, and never son.
I hate to lose; and games I’ve lost,
I didn’t choose, and never chost.
I love to sign, and songs I sang;
I fling a ball, but never flang.
I strike that ball, that ball I struck;
This poem I like, but never luck.
About all verbs I sit and think.
These verbs don’t fit. They seem to wink
At me, who sat for years and though
Of verbs that never fat or wought.
I hope I do an awesome job,
When I translate I think a lot, about
The words that can be filled in, as I fill them out
About a house that can be burn up as it burns down.
Вот еще небольшая коллекция:
http://www.math.ohio-state.edu/~genyuk/engl.html
The verbs in English are a fright.
How can we learn to read and write?
Today we speak, but first we spoke:
Some faucets leak, but never loke.
Today we write, but first we wrote;
We bite our tongues, but never bote.
Each day I teach, for years I taught,
And preachers preach, but never praught.
This tale I tell, this tale I told;
I smell the flowers, but never smold.
If knights still slay, as once they slew,
Then do we play, as once we plew?
If I still do as once I did,
Then do cows moo, as once they mid?
I love to win, and games I’ve won;
I seldom sin, and never son.
I hate to lose; and games I’ve lost,
I didn’t choose, and never chost.
I love to sign, and songs I sang;
I fling a ball, but never flang.
I strike that ball, that ball I struck;
This poem I like, but never luck.
About all verbs I sit and think.
These verbs don’t fit. They seem to wink
At me, who sat for years and though
Of verbs that never fat or wought.
I hope I do an awesome job,
When I translate I think a lot, about
The words that can be filled in, as I fill them out
About a house that can be burn up as it burns down.
Вот еще небольшая коллекция:
http://www.math.ohio-state.edu/~genyuk/engl.html
(no subject)
Date: 2004-03-18 10:53 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2004-03-19 12:08 pm (UTC)