“We were born broken”这句话中的broken是什么词性？这句话的句子结构是什么

破坏的过去式和过去分词

破碎的

破碎的

名词例如Thelockisbroken锁坏了此外broken本身就是个可以直接修饰名次的形容词比如说：brokenheart破碎的心abrokenwashingmachine坏了的洗衣机

(东西)摔破,摔坏,(人)摔伤, 动词原形是break,过去式broke

brokenheart1.伤心；绝望2.幻灭，绝望；(尤指失恋所引起的)极其悲哀，非常悲伤例句1.nomorebrokenheartremarkable.心碎没多了不起。2.whyabrokenheartbeginstocry?为什么一个破碎的心开始哭泣？3.howcanyoumendmybrokenheart?你如何修补我破碎地心？希望对你有帮助如有疑问请在线交谈祝你天天开心心想事成o(∩_∩)o...

broken的意思是破损的、伤残的、残缺的、出了毛病的、中止了的、破坏了的、被违背的、未履行的、裂，碎，弄坏、损坏、坏掉、弄破，使流血。break的过去分词。

破碎

盖他，把肉啃

坏的、破碎（了）的 的意思

broken是break的过去分词，意思有破裂的，破碎的，折断的，衰弱的，颓丧的，不完整的，间断的，断断续续的，凹凸不平的等；而damage指价值、用途等降低或外表损坏等，不一定会破坏，破坏了也还能修复……

应该是出BUG了或者是 被打残了吧

broken into闯入拼音双语对照双语例句1Something else i"d like to know is whose house has been broken into.另外我还想知道的是谁家撬窃了。2E-commerce models are broken into the three Cs: communities, content and commerce.电子商务模型可以细分成三个C：社团、内容和商务。

我被抛弃了！

有

that"sbroken字面意思是“那是破损了的或蹩脚的”。broken用在人身上意思是衰弱的、精疲力尽的、累垮了的，想表示伤心的，可以翻译为that"ssad。

意思是“坏了”，你应该把整个句子写上来，broken的意思有很多的你可以自己去查下，getbroken中的get你可以将它看做一个“be”来理解

broken破碎的双语对照词典结果：broken[英][ˈbrəʊkən][美][ˈbroʊkən]adj.破碎的，打碎的; （腿，臂等）已骨折的; （线条）虚线的，断续的; 被打断的; v.打破，折断(break的过去分词); 打破（纪录）; 损坏; The old model is broken. 旧的模式已经被打破。

broken 英["brəʊkən] 美[ˈbrokən] adj. 破碎的，打碎的;（腿，臂等）已骨折的;（线条）虚线的，断续的;被... v. 打破，折断(break的过去分词);打破（纪录）;损坏 ~如果你认可我的回答，请及时点击【采纳为满意回答】按钮~~手机提问的朋友在客户端右上角评价点【满意】即可。~你的采纳是我前进的动力~~O(∩_∩)O，互相帮助，祝共同进步！

破碎

打破

是break的过去分词,打破打碎的意思

calmadj.镇定的; 平静的; （海洋，天气等）安静的，平静的; （人）从容不迫的; vt.& vi.（使）平静，（使）镇定; （使）镇静; n.平静; 镇定; 安定; 无风; vt.使安静; 使冷静; 使镇定; 使（疼痛等）减轻; vi.安静下来，平静下来，镇静下来; Brokenadj.破碎的，打碎的; （腿，臂等）已骨折的; （线条）虚线的，断续的; 被打断的; v.打破，折断(break的过去分词); 打破（纪录）; 损坏;

破碎 坏了

词性：属形容词词义：adj. 破碎的, 破裂的, 被打坏的打断的, 中止的被驯服的, 被制服的, 被打败的

破碎的;损坏的2.被破坏的;遭违背的3.不连续的;中断的4.衰弱的;沮丧的;低沉的5.(婚姻)破裂的;(家庭)破碎的[B]6.(语言)拙劣的,不流利的望采纳

作为形容词. 弄坏的, 破碎的；也是，break动词的过去式分词

它是break的过去分词中断；休息；破裂；机会中断；破坏；碎,络打破；断裂；打碎

形容词。弄坏的；破碎的动词break的过去分词.

　　broken heart英 [ˈbrəukən hɑ:t] 美 [ˈbrokən hɑrt]　　[释义]伤心，绝望，心碎;　　[网络]心碎; 绝望; 伤心,绝望;　　[例句]"Of a broken heart, I was told."And a tear rolled down O liver"s cheek.　　“有人告诉我她是伤心死的。”一颗泪珠从奥利弗的脸上滚落下来。

破碎的，打碎的; （腿，臂等）已骨折的; （线条）虚线的，断续的; 被打断的v. 打破，折断(break的过去分词); 打破（纪录）; 损坏

broken是 惜碎滴 的意思

break的过去分词形式 ,打破、破坏的意思

被摔坏的，被破坏的【♥Me YC♥】的回答，请及时点击【采纳为满意回答】按钮~~手机提问的朋友在客户端右上角评价点【采纳】即可。~你的采纳是我前进的动力~~

破坏的

破碎的

破的坏的

破损的，破坏的

桥坏了

您好！我猜……您想要问的句子应该是“brokenheart”吧？因为“brokentheheart”的语法是不正确的。broken：是break的过去式。break：破；碎；折断等的意思。heart：心所以翻译过来的意思是：破碎的心；被伤害到的心。如果您坚持句子里要有the的话，可以这样子：Breaktheheart。(这是命令式的句子。意思是：去伤害那颗心。)更详细的分析是比如：A教唆B去伤害C的心。希望能帮到你。愿上帝祝福你！：）

短的 破的

翻译成。。。你是否已经破碎了？？？？？

broken1.破碎的;损坏的Let"ssweepawaythebrokenglass.让我们把这些碎玻璃扫走。Joe"swatchisbroken.乔的手表坏了。2.被破坏的;遭违背的Afterabrokenpromise,itishardtocountonaperson.一次失约,再要人相信你就难了。3.不连续的;中断的Shesaidshehadabrokensleeplastnight.她说昨夜她睡得不熟,常常醒。4.衰弱的;沮丧的;低沉的Johnsufferedfromabrokenspirit.约翰心灰意懒。5.(婚姻)破裂的;(家庭)破碎的[B]Mostofthesechildrencomefrombrokenfamilies.这些孩子中的多数人来自婚姻破裂的家庭。6.(语言)拙劣的,不流利的AlisonspeaksbrokenFrench.艾莉森讲法语结结巴巴。7.破了产的

Broken是break 的过去分词。The bottle is broken.那个瓶子是坏的。I have broken the bottle .我打碎了那个瓶子.

您好！我猜……您想要问的句子应该是“brokenheart”吧？因为“brokentheheart”的语法是不正确的。broken：是break的过去式。break：破；碎；折断等的意思。heart：心所以翻译过来的意思是：破碎的心；被伤害到的心。如果您坚持句子里要有the的话，可以这样子：Breaktheheart。(这是命令式的句子。意思是：去伤害那颗心。)更详细的分析是比如：A教唆B去伤害C的心。希望能帮到你。愿上帝祝福你！：）

我怎么觉得正好相反呢～～应该是我错了

please help me open permission of the net folder

1I thought once how Theocritus had sungOf the sweet years, the dear and wished-for years,Who each one in a gracious hand appearsTo bear a gift for mortals, old or young:And, as I mused it in his antique tongue,I saw, in gradual vision through my tears,The sweet, sad years, the melancholy years,Those of my own life, who by turns had flungA shadow across me. Straightway I was "ware,So weeping, how a mystic Shape did moveBehind me, and drew me backward by the hair;And a voice said in mastery, while I strove, --`Guess now who holds thee?" -- `Death." I said. But, thereThe silver answer rang, -- `Not Death, but love."2But only three in all God"s universeHave heard this word thou hast said, -- Himself, besideThee speaking, and me listening! and repliedOne of us ... _that_ was God, ... and laid the curseSo darkly on my eyelids, as to amerceMy sight from seeing thee, -- that if I had died,The death-weights, placed there, would have signifiedLess absolute exclusion. `Nay" is worseFrom God than from all others, O my friend!Men could not part us with their worldly jars,Nor the seas change us, nor the tempests bend;Our hands would touch for all the mountain-barsAnd, heaven being rolled between us at the end,We should but vow the faster for the stars.3Unlike are we, unlike, O princely Heart!Unlike our uses and our destinies.Our ministering two angels look surpriseOn one another, as they strike athwartTheir wings in passing. Thou, bethink thee, artA guest for queens to social pageantries,With gages from a hundred brighter eyesThan tears even can make mine, to play thy partOf chief musician. What hast thou to doWith looking from the lattice-lights at me,A poor, tired, wandering singer, ... singing throughThe dark, and leaning up a cypress tree?The chrism is on thine head, -- on mine, the dew, --And Death must dig the level where these agree.4Thou hast thy calling to some palace-floor,Most gracious singer of the high poems! whereThe dancers will break footing, from the careOf watching up thy pregnant lips for more.And dost thou lift this house"s latch too poorFor hand of thine? and canst thou think and bearTo let thy music drop here unawareIn folds of golden fulness at my door?Look up and see the casement broken in,The bats and owlets builders in the roof!My cricket chirps against thy mandolin.Hush, call no echo up in further proofOf desolation! there"s a voice withinThat weeps ... as thou must sing ... alone, aloof.5I lift my heavy heart up solemnly,As once Electra her sepulchral urn,And, looking in thine eyes, I overturnThe ashes at thy feet. Behold and seeWhat a great heap of grief lay hid [1] in me,And how the red wild sparkles dimly burnThrough the ashen greyness. If thy foot in scornCould tread them out to darkness utterly,It might be well perhaps. But if insteadThou wait beside me for the wind to blowThe grey dust up, ... those laurels on thine head,O my Beloved, will not shield thee so,That none of all the fires shall scorch and shredThe hair beneath. Stand further off then! go.6Go from me. Yet I feel that I shall standHenceforward in thy shadow. NevermoreAlone upon the threshold of my doorOf individual life, I shall commandThe uses of my soul, nor lift my handSerenely in the sunshine as before,Without the sense of that which I forbore --Thy touch upon the palm. The widest landDoom takes to part us, leaves thy heart in mineWith pulses that beat double. What I doAnd what I dream include thee, as the wineMust taste of its own grapes. And when I sueGod for myself, He hears the name of thine,And sees within my eyes the tears of two.7The face of all the world is changed, I think,Since first I heard of the footsteps of thy soulMove still, oh, still, beside me, as they stolebetwixt me and the dreadful outer brink Of obvious death, where I, who thought to sink,Was caught up into love, and taught the wholeOf life in a new rhythm. The cup of doleGod gave for baptism, I am fain to drink,And praise its sweetness, Sweet, with thee anear.The names of a country, heaven, are changed awayFor where thou art or shalt be, there or here;And this ... this lute and song ... loved yesterday( The singing angels know ) are only dearBecause thy name moves right in what they say.8What can I give thee back, O liberalAnd Princely giver, who hast brought the goldAnd purple of thine heart, unstained, untold,And laid them on the outside of the wallFor such as I to take or leave withal, In unexpected largesse? am I cold,Ungrateful, that for these most manifoldHigh gifts, I render nothing back at all?Not so; not cold, -- but very poor instead.Ask God who knows. For frequent tears have runThe colours from my life, and left so deadAnd pale a stuff, it were not fitly doneTo give the same as pillow to thy head.Go further! let it serve to trample on.9Can it be right to give what I can give?To let thee sit beneath the fall of tearsAs salt as mine, and hear the sighing yearsRe-sighing on my lips renunciativeThrough those infrequent smiles which fail to liveFor all thy adjurations? O my fears,That this can scarce be right! We are not peersSo to be lovers; and I own, and grieve,That givers of such gifts as mine are, mustBe counted with the ungenerous. Out, alas!I will not soil thy purple with my dust,Nor breathe my poison on thy Venice-glass,Nor give thee any love -- which were unjust.Beloved, I only love thee! let it pass.10Sonnets from the PortugueseYet, love, mere love, is beautiful indeedAnd worthy of acceptation. Fire is bright,Let temple burn, or flax. And equal lightLeaps in the flame from cedar-plank or weed.And love is fire. And when I say at need_I love thee ... mark! ... _I love thee_ -- in thy sightI stand transfigured, glorified aright,With conscience of the new rays that proceedOut of my face toward thine. There"s nothing lowIn love, when love the lowest: meanest creaturesWho love God, God accepts while loving so.And what I _feel_, across the inferior features11The sonnets from the PortugueseAnd therefore if to love can be desert,I am not all unworthy. Cheeks as paleAs these you see, and trembling knees that failTo bear the burden of a heavy heart. --This weary minstrel-life that once was girtTo climb Aornus, and can scare availto pipe now "gainst the valley nightingaleA melancholy music, why advertTo these things? O belov`ed, it is plainI am not of thy worth nor for thy place!And yet, because I love thee, I obtainFrom that same love this vindicating grace,To live on still in love, and yet in vain, ...To bless thee, yet renounce thee to thy face.12Indeed this very love which is my boast,And which, when rising up from breast to brow,Doth crown me with a ruby large enowTo draw men"s eyes and prove the inner cost, ...This love even, all my worth, to the uttermost,I should not love withal, unless that thouHadst set me an example, shown me how,When first time thine earnest eyes with mine were crossedAnd love called love. And thus, I cannot speakOf love even, as a good thing of my own.Thy soul hath snatched up mine all faint and weakAnd placed by thee on a golden throne, --And that I love (O soul, we must meek!)Is by thee only, whom I love alone.13And wilt thou have me fashion into speechThe love I bear thee, finding words enough,And hold the torch out, while the winds are roughBetween our faces, to cast light on each? --I drop it thy feet. I cannot teachMy hands to hold my spirit so far offFrom myself ... me ... that I should bring thee proofIn words, of love hid in me out of reach.Nay, let the silence of my womanhoodcommand my woman-love to thy belief, --Seeing that I stand unwon, however wooed,And rend the garment of my life, in brief,By a most dauntless, voiceless fortitude,Lest one touch of this heart convey its grief.14If thou must love me, let it be for noughtExcept for love"s sake only. Do not say`I love her for her smile ... her look ... her wayOf speaking gently, ... for a trick of thoughtThat falls in well with mine, and certes brought [certes: certainly]A sense of pleasant ease on such a day" --For these things in themselves, Belov`ed, mayBe changed, or change for thee, -- and love, so wrought [wrought: worked]May be unwrought so. Neither love me forThine own dear pity"s wiping my cheeks dry, --A creature might forget to weep, who boreThy comfort long, and lose thy love thereby!But love for love"s sake, that evermoreThou may"st love on, through love"s eternity.15EBB "The sonnets from the Portuguese", No. XVAccuse me not, beseech thee, that I wearToo calm and sad a face in front of thine;For we too look two ways, and can not shineWith the same sunlight on our brow and hair.On me thou lookest with no doubting care,As on a bee shut in a crystalline, --Since sorrow hath shut me safe in love"s divine,And to spread wing and fly in the outer airWere most impossible failure, if I stroveTo fail so. But I look on thee -- on thee --Beholding, besides love, the end of love,Hearing oblivion beyond memory!As one who sits and gazes from above,Over the rivers of the bitter sea.16And yet, because thou overcomest so,Because thou art more noble and like a king,Thou canst prevail against my fears and flingthy purple round me, till my heart shall growToo close against thine heart henceforth to knowHow it shook when alone. Why, conqueringMay prove as lordly and complete a thingIn lifting upward, as in crushing low!And as a vanquished soldier yields his swordTo one who lifts him from the bloody earth, --Even so, Beloved, I at last record,Here ends my strife. If _thou_ invite me forth,I rise above abasement at the word.Make thy love larger to enlarge my worth.之后的打不下了，请谅解

喋喋不休 [dié dié bù xiū] 基本释义 喋喋:形容说话多;休:停止。唠唠叨叨,说个没完没了。 贬义 出 处 《史记·匈奴传》:“嗟士室之人;顾.

天高地厚-厚颜无耻-（耻居人下）-(下不为例)-(例行公事),