学英语作文

时间:2024-08-07 12:23:21 英语作文 我要投稿

(必备)实用的学英语作文

  在平时的学习、工作或生活中,大家都写过作文,肯定对各类作文都很熟悉吧,借助作文人们可以反映客观事物、表达思想感情、传递知识信息。那么问题来了,到底应如何写一篇优秀的作文呢?以下是小编为大家收集的学英语作文8篇,希望能够帮助到大家。

(必备)实用的学英语作文

学英语作文 篇1

  Desertification is a process. In many parts of the world, the desert is spreading and the experts have tired to find all the ways to stop the cropland from being desert. In order to call for the public's attention to fight against desertification, June 17th has been named World Day to Combat Desertification.

  Desertification is a serious problem. In the northern part of China, many areas have become desert and the local farmers have lost their farmlands, which makes them suffer great economic loss. As the environment loses the green part, if this situation keeps spreading, then human being will face the great challenge to make a living.

  The fight against the desert needs everyone's action. Experts have tried to invent new technology to return the wasted land green. While for the ordinary people, we should have the consciousness of protecting the environment any time, such as do not throw the rubbish away. We should also make an effort to plant more trees.

  Now with effort that people make together, the desertification in our country is no longer spread, which is such inspiring news. In the coming future, we hope to return the world more green.

学英语作文 篇2

  M ther’s da

  M ther is an accuntant, she is beautiful and clever. She lies reading bs. She’s bus ever da.

  In the rning, she gets up at half past five fr ding husewr. After breafast, she alwas taes e t schl. And then she ges t wr. She lves her b ver uch, s she wrs hard.

  At nn, she ces he fr wr. She usuall arrives he earl, because she cs a eal fr us. She watches TV and sleeps seties.

  In the afternn, she ges t wr, t. I see t see ther's hard wring.

  At night, she ften drins tea and reads bs. She ges t bed at ten ’clc.

  It’s ther’s da, bus and happ da!

  妈妈的一天

  我的妈妈是一名会计师,她非常漂亮并且非常聪明。她还喜欢读书,她每天都非常忙碌。

  在早晨,她五点半起床做家务。早饭过后,她一般送我去学校,然后去上班。她喜欢她的工作,所以她工作得非常努力。

  上午,她下班回家。她通常到家很早,因为她要给我们做饭,有时候她会看电视或者午休。

  下午,她又去上班。我仿佛看见我的妈妈辛勤工作的样子。

  晚上,她经常喝茶、看书,她在十点钟睡觉。

  这就是我妈妈的.一天,忙碌而又快乐的一天!

学英语作文 篇3

  Qiangqiang is my classmate. He is nine years old. He doesn't study hard. He talks a lot in class, so the teacher is often angry with him. He doesn't like to do his homework, but he likes sports. He plays football very well. In fact, he is the best player in our class.

学英语作文 篇4

  my winter holiday

  i have a happy winter holiday, because i go to many places.

  first, i go to liannan to climb mountains and visit some old houses.

  then i go to longmen. in the evening, we go to the hot spring. my mothers friend says, there are many squirrels in nankun mountain! thats very interesting! i want to see monkeys very much. but we dont have time to go there. i am so sad!

  later, we go to other places, such as i qiao, guangzhou, etc.

  i love my colourful winter holiday! what about your holiday?

学英语作文 篇5

  Today, my mother has something to do, so she leaves the house early in the morning. Before she goes, I have promised to clean the house, so that she can relieve the burden. But I soon forget my job and just go out to play with my friends. When I go home, I see my mother is cleaning the house, I am so sorry to her. I decide to keep my promise next time.

  今天,我妈妈有事情要做,所以她清晨离开了房子。在她走之前,我已经答应了打扫房子,这样她就可以减轻负担。但我很快就忘记我的工作,和我的朋友出去玩。当我回家时,看到妈妈正在打扫房间,我很抱歉。我决定下次遵守我的`诺言。

学英语作文 篇6

  i was not yet 30 years old and was working as a firefighter in the south brons engine co. 82, probably the worlds most active firehouse at the time. it was warm and sunny, the kind of leisurely sunday that brought etra activity to the neighborhood and to its firefighters. we must have had 15 or 20 calls that day, the worst being a garbage fire in the rear of an abandoned building, which required a hard pull of 600 feet of cotton-jacketed hose.

  between alarms i would rush to the company office to read captain grays copy of the sunday new york times. it was late in the afternoon when i finally got to the book review section. as i read it, my blood began to boil. an article blatantly stated what i took to be a calumny -- that william butler yeats, the nobel prize-winning light of the irish literary renaissance, had transcended his irishness and was forever to be known as a universal poet.

  there were few things i was more proud of than my irish heritage, and ever since i first picked up a book of his poems from a barracks shelf when i was in the military, yeats had been my favorite irish writer, followed by sean ocasey and james joyce.

  my ancestors were irish farmers, fishermen and blue-collar workers, but as far as i can tell, they all had a feeling for literature. it was passed on to my own mother, a telephone operator, who hardly ever sat down without a book in her hands. and at that moment my own fingernails might have been soiled with the soot of the days fires, but i felt as prepared as any trinity don to stand up in the court of public opinion and protest. not only that yeats had lived his life and written his poetry through the very essence of his irish sensibility, but that it was offensive to think irishness -- no matter if it was psychological, social or literary -- was something to be transcended.

  my stomach was churning, and i determined not to let an idle minute pass. hey, captain gray. could i use your typewriter? i asked.

  the typewriter was so old that i had to use just one finger to type, my strongest one, even though i could type with all ten. i grabbed the first piece of clean paper i could find -- one that had the logo of the fire department of the city of new york across the top -- and, hoping there would be a break in the alarms for 20 minutes or so, wrote out a four-paragraph letter of indignation to the editor of the sunday book review.

  throughout his poetry, i postulated, yeats yearned for a messiah to lead ireland out from under the bondage of english rule, and his view of the world and the people in it was fundamentally irish.

  just as i addressed the envelope, the final alarm of my tour came in, and as i slid down the long brass pole, i felt unepectedly calm, as if a great rock had been purged from the bottom of my stomach.

  i dont know why i felt it my obligation to safeguard the reputation of the worlds greatest poet, at least net to homer and shakespeare, or to inscribe an apologia for irish writing. i just knew that i had to write that letter, in the same way a priest has to pray, or a musician has to play an instrument.

  until that point in my life i had not written much of value -- a few poems and short stories, the beginning of a coming-of-age novel. i knew that my writing was anything but refined. like a beginning artist who loves to draw, i understood that the more one draws, or writes, or does anything, the better the end result will be, and so i wrote often to better control my writing skills, to master them. i sent some material to various magazines and reviews but found no one willing to publish me.

  it was a special and unepected delight, then, when i learned something id written would finally see print. ironically it wasnt one of my poems or short stories -- it was my letter to the times. i suppose the editor decided to publish it because he was first attracted by the official nature of my stationery (was his staff taking smoke breaks out on the fire escape?), and then by the incongruity of a ghetto firefighters using words like messianism, for in the lines below my letter it was announced that i was a new york city firefighter. id like to think, though, that the editor silently agreed with my thesis.

  i remember receiving through the fire departments address about 20 sympathetic and congratulatory letters from professors around the country. these letters made me feel like i was not only a published writer but an opinion maker. it was as if i was suddenly thrust into being someone whose views mattered.

  i also received a letter from true magazine and one from the new yorker, asking for an interview. it was the latter that proved momentous, for when an article titled fireman smith appeared in that magazine, i received a telephone call from the editor of a large publishing firm who asked if i might be interested in writing a book about my life.

  i had little confidence in my ability to write a whole book, though i did intuit that my work as a firefighter was a worthy subject. and so i wrote report from engine co. 82 in si months, and it went on to sell two million copies and to be translated into 12 languages. in the years that followed, i wrote three more best-sellers, and last year published a memoir, a song for mary: an irish-american memory.

  being a writer had been far from my epectations; being a best-selling author was almost unfathomable. how had it happened? i often found myself thinking about it, marveling at it, and my thoughts always came back to that letter to the new york times.

  for me, the clearest eplanation is that i had found the subject i was searching for, one i felt so strongly about that the writing was a natural consequence of the passion i felt. i was to feel this same kind of passion when i began writing about firefighters and, later, when writing about my mother. these are subjects that, to me, represent the great values of human life -- decency, honesty and fairness -- subjects that burn within me as i write.

  over the years, all five of my children have come to me periodically with one dilemma or another. should i study english or art? should i go out for soccer or basketball? should i take a job with this company or that one?

  my answer is always the same, yet they still ask, for reassurance is a good and helpful thing. think about what youre feeling deep down in the pit of your stomach, i tell them, and measure the heat of the fire there, for that is the passion that will flow through your heart. your education and your eperience will guide you toward making a right decision, but your passion will enable you to make a difference in whatever you do.

  thats what i learned the day i stood up for irelands greatest poet.

学英语作文 篇7

  I would never forget that day I first met my girl-friend.

  Before I realized what had happened, I was thrown flat onto the concrete road, knocking my head against the front wheel of the bike. Soft dust blurred my eyes and grated my teeth. This must be worse than all the traffic accidents I’ve heard of, I thought to myself and got ready to shout at the person who should take responsibility of this accident. But when I raised my head, I found a face so beautiful and so sweet that I could not refuse to fall for. I smiled as handsome as possible and ask: “ I’m sorry, are you OK?” For my kindness, as well with my later hard chasing, that girl became my girl-friend. This is really a memorable experience for me!

学英语作文 篇8

  last week I went to the Xiangjiang Zoo in Panyu.with my family. The zoo was very big and very beautiful , the zoo has a lot of animals , panda,lion,tiger,snake,elephant,fox Collected By Panda ws very cute and very fat , but it was not my favourite animal. Lion ws very strong , but it wasn t my favourite animal either, because it wasn t very handsome.

  Tiger ws very strong and very handsome , it s my favourite animal, because it s very strong and very handsome. I feel very happy !

  上周我去了湘江动物园家人。动物园非常大,非常漂亮,动物园里有很多动物,熊猫,狮子,老虎,蛇,大象,熊猫是非常可爱的`狐狸收集很胖,但是这不是我最喜欢的动物。狮子是很强的,但那不是我最喜欢的动物,因为它不是很帅。

  老虎是非常强,非常漂亮,这是我最喜欢的动物,因为它很强壮,很帅。我感到很高兴!

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