爱英语作文

时间：2021-04-05 10:29:25 关于爱的作文我要投稿

关于爱英语作文合集8篇

　　无论是身处学校还是步入社会，大家都不可避免地会接触到作文吧，通过作文可以把我们那些零零散散的思想，聚集在一块。那么你知道一篇好的作文该怎么写吗？下面是小编收集整理的爱英语作文8篇，欢迎大家分享。

关于爱英语作文合集8篇

爱英语作文篇1

　　（The Difference between Love and Like ）

　　爱和喜欢的区别(the difference between love and like )

　　in front of the person you love, your heart beats faster, but in front of the person you like, you get happy.

　　in front of the person you love, winter seems like spring, but in front of the person you like, winter is just beautiful winter.

　　if you look into the eyes of the one you love, you blush, but if you look into the eyes of the person you like, you smile.

　　if front of the person you love, you can’t say everything on your mind, but in front of the person you like, you can.

　　in front of the person you love, you tend to get shy, but in front of the person you like, you can show your own self.

　　you can’t look straight into the eyes of the one you love, but you can always smile into the eyes of the one you like.

　　when the one you love is crying, you cry with him, but when the one you like is crying, you end up comforting.

　　the feeling of love starts from the eye, and the feeling of like starts from the ears.

　　so if you stop liking a person you used to like, all you need to do is cover your ears. but if you try to close your eyes, love turns into a teardrop and remains in your heart forever after.

爱英语作文篇2

　　老爸是我最佩服的人，我佩服他学习英语的刻苦精神。

　　爸爸满脸的青春痘，但丝毫不影响他的帅气，一张国字脸上有一双炯炯有神的大眼睛，挺拔的鼻梁，和一张能说会道的嘴巴。

　　爸爸的爱好很广泛，尤其热爱英语。有一次，我正在房间里大声朗读英语，不知什么时候爸爸突然冒了出来，说：“英语真的很好听啊，真不愧是******用语言，我也来学一学，要不然就落伍了。”于是，爸爸就让我当他的“英语老师”，虚心地问我应该怎么读。刚一开始，爸爸读得很难听，就像外星人说话似地，可能连外星人都听不懂吧。可爸爸没有被困难吓倒，天天早晨早起二十分钟，一边听磁带，一边大声朗读。过了一段时间，在我和爸爸的艰苦努力下，爸爸的英语终于有了很大的进步。

　　老爸学习英语有一个最大的困难，就是容易遗忘。为了记住更多的英语单词，老爸苦思冥想，终于想到了一个好办法，他几乎把家里所有的东西上都贴满了纸条，纸条上写着相应的英语单词。这样，老爸在拿什么东西的时候，就会把这个单词念出来。长时间后，老爸果然记住了很多单词。

　　这就是我的爱学英语的老爸。

爱英语作文篇3

　　But somehow those three little words

　　但不知道为什么这小小的三个字

　　Are the hardest ones to share.

　　却最难与人分享

　　And fathers say I love you

　　而父亲说我爱你

　　In ways that words can‘t match--

　　用言语没法比拟的方式

　　With tender bed time stories

　　或是温和地在床头讲故事

　　Or a friendly game of catch!

　　或是一场友好的捉迷藏游戏

　　You can see the words I love you

　　你可以看到我爱你这些字

　　In a father‘s boyish eyes

　　从父亲孩子起的眼睛里

　　When he runs home,all excited,

　　当他兴奋地跑回家

　　With a poorly wrapped surprise.

　　脸上带着难以掩饰的'惊喜

　　A father says I love you

　　父亲说我爱你

　　With his strong helping hands

　　用他强有力的援助之手

　　With a smile when you‘re in trouble

　　用他的微笑帮你度过难关

　　With the way he understands.

　　用他所理解的方式

　　He says I love you haltingly.

　　他踌躇地说我爱你

　　With awkward tenderness--

　　带着笨拙的温柔

　　It‘s hard to help a four-year-old into a party dress!

　　帮一个四岁小孩穿上派对礼服实在是不容易!

　　He speaks his love unselfishly

　　他无私地表达他的爱

　　By giving all he can

　　付出他的全部

　　To make some secret dream come true.

　　让心底的梦想成真

　　Or follow through a plan.

　　或追求一个计划

　　A father‘s seldom-spoken love

　　父亲很少说出口的爱

　　Sounds clearly through the years--

　　随着光阴流逝变得清晰

　　Sometimes in peals of laughter,

　　有时在响亮的笑声中

　　Sometimes through happy tears.

　　有时在欢乐的泪水中

　　Perhaps they have to speak their love

　　可能他们表达他们的爱

　　In a fashion all their own.

　　只能用自己的方式

爱英语作文篇4

　　love wanted to persevere until the last possible moment. when the island was almost sinking, love decided to ask for help. richness was passing by love in a grand boat. love said, richness, can you take me with you? richness answered, no, i can t. there is a lot of gold and silver in my boat. there is no place here for you.

　　love decided to ask vanity who was also passing by in a beautiful vessel, vanity, please help me! i can t help you love. you are all wet and might damage my boat. vanity answered.sadness was close by so love asked for help, sadness, let me go with you. oh....love, i am so sad that i need to be by myself! happiness passed by love too, but she was so happy that she did not even hear when love called her!suddenly, there was a voice, come love, i will take you. it was an elder. love felt so blessed and overjoyed that he even forgot to ask the elder his name. when they arrived at dry land, the elder went his own way.

　　love realizing how much he owed the elder and asked knowledge, another elder, who helped me? it was time, knowledge answered. time? asked love. but why did time help me? knowledge smiled with deep wisdom and answered, because, only time is capable of understanding how great love is.

爱英语作文篇5

　　It is cold, so bitter cold, on this dark, winter day in 1942. But it is no different from any other day in this Nazi concentration camp. I stand shivering in my thin rags, still in disbelief that this nightmare is happening. I am just a young boy. I should be playing with friends; I should be going to school; I should be looking forward to a future, to growing up and marrying, and having a family of my own. But those dreams are for the living, and I am no longer one of them. Instead, I am almost dead, surviving from day to day, from hour to hour, ever since I was taken from my home and brought here with tens of thousands other Jews. Will I still be alive tomorrow? Will I be taken to the gas chamber tonight?

　　Back and forth I walk next to the barbed wire fence, trying to keep my emaciated body warm. I am hungry, but I have been hungry for longer than I want to remember. I am always hungry. Edible food seems like a dream. Each day as more of us disappear, the happy past seems like a mere dream, and I sink deeper and deeper into despair. Suddenly, I notice a young girl walking past on the other side of the barbed wire. She stops and looks at me with sad eyes, eyes that seem to say that she understands, that she, too, cannot fathom why I am here. I want to look away, oddly ashamed for this stranger to see me like this, but I cannot tear my eyes from hers.

　　Then she reaches into her pocket, and pulls out a red apple. A beautiful, shiny red apple. Oh, how long has it been since I have seen one! She looks cautiously to the left and to the right, and then with a smile of triumph, quickly throws the apple over the fence. I run to pick it up, holding it in my trembling, frozen fingers. In my world of death, this apple is an expression of life, of love. I glance up in time to see the girl disappearing into the distance.

　　The next day, I cannot help myself-I am drawn at the same time to that spot near the fence. Am I crazy for hoping she will come again? Of course. But in here, I cling to any tiny scrap of hope. She has given me hope and I must hold tightly to it.

　　And again, she comes. And again, she brings me an apple, flinging it over the fence with that same sweet smile.

　　This time I catch it, and hold it up for her to see. Her eyes twinkle. Does she pity me? Perhaps. I do not care, though. I am just so happy to gaze at her. And for the first time in so long, I feel my heart move with emotion.

　　For seven months, we meet like this. Sometimes we exchange a few words. Sometimes, just an apple. But she is feeding more than my belly, this angel from heaven. She is feeding my soul. And somehow, I know I am feeding hers as well.

　　One day, I hear frightening news: we are being shipped to another camp. This could mean the end for me. And it definitely means the end for me and my friend. The next day when I greet her, my heart is breaking, and I can barely speak as I say what must be said: "Do not bring me an apple tomorrow," I tell her. "I am being sent to another camp. We will never see each other again." Turning before I lose all control, I run away from the fence. I cannot bear to look back. If I did, I know she would see me standing there, with tears streaming down my face.

　　Months pass and the nightmare continues. But the memory of this girl sustains me through the terror, the pain, the hopelessness. Over and over in my mind, I see her face, her kind eyes, I hear her gentle words, I taste those apples.

　　And then one day, just like that, the nightmare is over. The war has ended. Those of us who are still alive are freed. I have lost everything that was precious to me, including my family. But I still have the memory of this girl, a memory I carry in my heart and gives me the will to go on as I move to America to start a new life. Years pass. It is 1957. I am living in New York City. A friend convinces me to go on a blind date with a lady friend of his. Reluctantly, I agree. But she is nice, this woman named Roma. And like me, she is an immigrant, so we have at least that in common.

　　"Where were you during the war?" Roma asks me gently, in that delicate way immigrants ask one another questions about those years.

　　"I was in a concentration camp in Germany," I reply.

　　Roma gets a far away look in her eyes, as if she is remembering something painful yet sweet.

　　"What is it?" I ask.

　　"I am just thinking about something from my past, Herman," Roma explains in a voice suddenly very soft. "You see, when I was a young girl, I lived near a concentration camp. There was a boy there, a prisoner, and for a long while, I used to visit him every day. I remember I used to bring him apples. I would throw the apple over the fence, and he would be so happy."

　　Roma sighs heavily and continues. "It is hard to describe how we felt about each other-after all, we were young, and we only exchanged a few words when we could-but I can tell you, there was much love there. I assume he was killed like so many others. But I cannot bear to think that, and so I try to remember him as he was for those months we were given together."

　　With my heart pounding so loudly I think it wil1 explode, I look directly at Roma and ask, "And did that boy say to you one day, 'Do not bring me an apple tomorrow. I am being sent to another camp'?"

　　"Why, yes," Roma responds, her voice trembling.

　　"But, Herman, how on earth could you possibly know that?"

　　I take her hands in mine and answer, "Because I was that young boy, Roma."

　　For many moments, there is only silence. We cannot take our eyes from each other, and as the veils of time lift, we recognize the soul behind the eyes, the dear friend we once loved so much, whom we have never stopped loving, whom we have never stopped remembering.

　　Finally, I speak: "Look, Roma, I was separated from you once, and I don't ever want to be separated from you again. Now, I am free, and I want to be together with you forever. Dear, will you marry me?"

　　I see that same twinkle in her eye that I used to see as Roma says, "Yes, I will marry you," and we embrace, the embrace we longed to share for so many months, but barbed wire came between us. Now, nothing ever will again.

　　Almost forty years have passed since that day when I found my Roma again. Destiny brought us together the first time during the war to show me a promise of hope and now it had reunited us to fulfill that promise.

　　Valentine's Day, 1996. I bring Roma to the Oprah Winfrey Show to honor her on national television. I want to tell her in front of millions of people what I feel in my heart every day:

　　"Darling, you fed me in the concentration camp when I was hungry. And I am still hungry, for something I will never get enough of: I am only hungry for your love."

爱英语作文篇6

　　Mother’s love wins people’s praises for its selflessness. In fact, father’s love is as great as that. They bury their love in the deep bottom of their hearts and will never show it. My father is of this kind. I remembered once I felt ill. Mother wasn’t at home at that moment. Father acted as a father and as a mother as well. When he came home from work, he would cook dinner for me first. The way he fed me made me think of my kind and tender mother. His eyes were full of love and expectation. I did feel a father’s love at that time.

　　参考翻译

　　父爱

　　母亲的爱因无私而赢得人们的赞扬。事实上，父亲的爱是如此的伟大。他们把自己的爱埋在心底，永远不会显露出来。我的父亲是这样的。我记得有一次我感到不舒服。那时母亲不在家。父亲是父亲，母亲也是母亲。当他下班回家时，他会先为我做晚饭。他喂我的方式使我想起了我那温柔体贴的母亲。他的眼睛充满了爱和期待。那时我确实感到了父亲的爱。

爱英语作文篇7

　　Father‘s love

　　All say that love is great and selfless, in fact, fatherly love is express volumes.

　　My father is a carpenter, a black and a white hair, a pair of one‘s eyes brimming with radiating vigour eyes, big nose is a lovely catfish mouth. This is my ordinary father.

　　My father is a real redneck, usually not much words, silent as a mountain. But the simple, honest, can not cover up the elegant temperament, he always pay attention to their words, in their own words and deeds to tell me the truth in life.

　　Once, my father took a wooden work, nor let the father on the door to do color pretty, red. My father came home for dinner, thinking of this, watch TV and thinking about it. I couldn‘t help, complained: " Dad, you still think which! You play nice, people do not give you money, play is not pretty, and they will not give you the money, but also so much, why old miss! "

　　Father says: " no no, play beautiful even though he does not give me money, but I the performance obtained his approval, he will be looking for me to do the work, not to give me that money is a matter? " Father smiled, " if I don‘t do well, don‘t just give me your name was bad? Even if he can‘t find me working, we are a friend, I do not lose. "

　　From the mouth to spit out the catfish such beautiful words! Looked at his father‘s smiling eyes, my long time of taste of the beautiful words.

　　The lush mountain never abandon every blade of grass, a towering mountain never give up a stone. My father is a mountain, he bit by bit and caress me grow up healthy, in my eyes, this mountain, more and more high. Father‘s love!

爱英语作文篇8

　　Recently, I saw an interesting commercial ad. The celebrities asked people the question what would you do for love. I thought of this question for a while and my parents lingered on my mind. I wanted to help them share the housework, so they could be much easier. I also wanted to get progress on my study, so that my parents would be very happy.

　　最近，我看到一则有趣的商业广告。广告里面名人问了大家一个问题，你会为爱做什么？我想了下这个问题，父母的形象一直在我的脑海中徘徊。我想帮他们分担家务，这样他们就可以轻松很多。我也想在学习上有所进步，这样我的父母就会很高兴。

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