مقاله استاد رفیعی در مورد نکات Reading آزمون آیلتس

نویسنده: استاد حامد رفیعی

اشاره:

در این مقاله استاد رفیعی نکاتی را توضیح داده اند که به شما کمک خواهد کرد تا پیشرفت بسیار زیادی در آزمون Reading داشته باشید.

نکات آزمون Reading

ساختار تست

ساختار تستهای آزمون Reading در آیلتس جنرال و آکادمیک با هم متفاوت است. بیشتر اوقات در Academic Reading سه متن بلند از روزنامه ها یا مجلات وجود دارد در حالیکه در General Reading چندین متن کوچک وجود دارد که از تبلیغات، متون رسمی، جزوات یا از کتب راهنما گرفته شده اند و 2 یا 3 متن بزرگتر که از کتابها، مجلات یا روزنامه ها گرفته شده اند. همانند Listening، سوالات Reading نیز بصورت گروهی داده می شوند و دستورالعملهای هر سوال به شما خواهند گفت که هر گروه از سوالات به کدام پاراگراف یا بخش از متن تعلق دارند. همچنین سوالات ممکن است قبل یا بعد از متنی که به آن تعلق دارند داده شوند.

زمان خود را مدیریت کنید

همانطور که قبلاً هم گفتم، زمان بزرگترین دشمن شماست. در تست Listening، زمان از قبل برای شما مدیریت شده است اما در Reading اینطور نیست. بنابراین باید آن را به دقت توسط خودتان مدیریت کنید. وقتی که شما دفترچه سوالات را دریافت می کنید، اول بشمارید که چند قسمت متن در آن وجود دارد. اجازه بدهید بگویم که شما معمولاً شما با 4 قسمت متن در Reading روبرو خواهید شد و این بدان معنی است که شما برای هر قسمت 15 دقیقه وقت خواهید داشت. ساعتی که باید هر قسمت را شروع کرده و به اتمام برسانید را برای هر قسمت یادداشت کنید. در واقع 13 دقیقه را به پاسخگویی (نوشتن پاسخها در دفترچه سوالات) و 2 دقیقه را به انتقال از آن به برگه پاسخنامه اختصاص دهید. اگر شما موفق نشدید که یک قسمت را در زمانی که برایش تعیین کرده اید به اتمام برسانید، در هر صورت از آن بگذرید و به قسمت بعدی بروید و فراموش نکنید که پاسخ سوالات را به برگه پاسخنامه منتقل کنید (جوانی که نمره صفر گرفت را به خاطر دارید؟)

 اگر شما زمان اضافه در Reading داشتید، مطمئن شوید که هیچ سوالی را بدون پاسخ نگذاشته اید. جوابها را دوباره چک کنید و این به شما فرصتی می دهد که اشتباهات را قبل از اینکه تصحیح کننده برگه شما پیدا کند، خودتان آنها را پیدا کرده باشید!

مقاله استاد رفیعی در مورد نکات Listening آزمون آیلتس

 

نویسنده: استاد حامد رفیعی

اشاره: در این مقاله استاد رفیعی نکاتی را توضیح داده اند که به شما کمک خواهد کرد تا پیشرفت بسیار زیادی در آزمون Listening داشته باشید.


نکات آزمون Listening


آزمون Listening، چیزی است که معمولاً‌ افراد از آن هراس دارند. برای اینکه به ترس و هراس خود غلبه کنید، شروع به تماشای برنامه های تلویزیونی به زبان انگلیسی نمایید. این روش بهتر از گوش دادن به رادیو یا نوارهای صوتی انگلیسی است چون دیدن تصاویر به شما کمک می کند که آنچه که می شنوید را بهتر بفهمید.


Listening، یک مهارت است، نه یک هدیه!



بر اساس تجربیات من، Listening دست کم یک مهارت رشد یافته است. بنابراین اگر شما در این خصوص احساس ضعف می کنید، به نکات زیر توجه کنید. آنها به شما کمک می کنند که توانایی Listening خود را تقویت کنید. به یاد داشته باشید که هیچکس از ابتدا با این مهارت متولد نشده است. آن فقط یک نوع مهارت است که باید آن را بیاموزید. اگر فکر می کنید که Listening شما نیاز به پیشرفت ندارد، قسمت "به خود یک لغت بیاموزید" را رها کنید و به قسمت بعدی بروید.

خرید پوشاک در زبان انگلیسی

خرید پوشاک در زبان انگلیسی

Shopping Clothes

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در این بخش جملات اساسی در مورد خرید پوشاک ارائه شده است، مکالمات مربوط به انواع پوشاک در بخش دیگری ذکر خواهد شد.

1- سایز شما چند است؟ سایزم 16 است.

What size do you wear? I wear a 16.

2- آیا این پیراهن رنگ آبی هم داره؟

Does this shirt come in blue?

تشکر کردن در زبان انگلیسی

تشکر کردن در زبان انگلیسی

Thanking

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1- برای تشکر کردن و موقعیت های دوستانه و رسمی از Thanks(ممنون، مرسی) و یا Thanks a lot(خیلی ممنون) استفاده می شود و در پاسخ کلمات ساده ای Ok، Sure و anytime به کار می رود.

2- رایج ترین عبارت برای تشکر کردن در موقعیت های دوستانه، رسمی و  عادی Thank Youمی باشد و در پاسخ نیز می توان از عبارات زیر استفاده نمود.

خواهش می کنم: You’re welcome

خواهش می کنم، مهم نیست: Don’t mention

خوشحال شدم: It was my pleasure

داستان گذر از تونل نوشته ی دوریس لسینگ با ترجمه ی فارسی

 Through the Tunnel



Doris Lessing


GOING to the shore on the first morning of the vacation, the young English boy stopped at a turning of the path and looked down at a wild and rocky bay, and then over the crowded beach he knew so well from other years. His mother walked on in front of him, carrying a bright striped bag in one hand. Her other arm, swinging loose, was very white in the sun. The boy watched that white, naked arm, and turned his eyes, which had a frown behind them, toward the bay and back again to his mother.

When she felt he was not with her, she swung around. “Oh, there you are, Jerry!” she said. She looked impatient, then smiled. “Why, darling, would you rather not come with me? Would you rather --- “she frowned, conscientiously worrying over what amusements he might secretly be longing for, which she had been too busy or too careless to imagine. He was very familiar with that anxious, apologetic smile. Contrition sent him running after her. And yet, as he ran, he looked over his shoulder at the wild day; and all morning, as he played on the safe beach, he was thinking of it.

Next morning, when it was time for the routine of swimming and sunbathing, his mother said, “Are you tired of the usual beach, Jerry? Would you like to go somewhere else?”

“Oh, no!” he said quickly, smiling at her out of that unfailing impulse of contrition --- a sort of chivalry. Yet, walking down the path with her, he blurted out, “I’d like to go and have a look at those rocks down there.”

She gave the idea her attention. It was a wild-looking place, and there was no one there; but she said, “Of course, Jerry. When you’ve had enough, come to the big beach. Or just go straight back to the villa, if you like.” She walked away, that bare arm, now slightly reddened from yesterday’s sun, swinging. And he almost ran after her again, feeling it unbearable that she should go by herself, but he did not.

She was thinking, Of course he’s old enough to be safe without me. Have I been keeping him too close? He mustn’t feel he ought to be with me. I must be careful.

He was an only child, eleven years old. She was a widow. She was determined to be neither possessive nor lacking in devotion. She went worrying off to her beach.

داستان گربه سیاه نوشته ی ادگار آلن پو با ترجمه ی فارسی

 The Black Cat

Edgar Allen Poe

FOR the most wild, yet most homely narrative which I am about to pen, I neither expect nor solicit belief. Mad indeed would I be to expect it, in a case where my very senses reject their own evidence. Yet, mad am I not - and very surely do I not dream. But to-morrow I die, and to-day I would unburthen my soul. My immediate purpose is to place before the world, plainly, succinctly, and without comment, a series of mere household events. In their consequences, these events have terrified - have tortured - have destroyed me. Yet I will not attempt to expound them. To me, they have presented little but Horror - to many they will seem less terrible than barroques. Hereafter, perhaps, some intellect may be found which will reduce my phantasm to the common-place - some intellect more calm, more logical, and far less excitable than my own, which will perceive, in the circumstances I detail with awe, nothing more than an ordinary succession of very natural causes and effects.

From my infancy I was noted for the docility and humanity of my disposition. My tenderness of heart was even so conspicuous as to make me the jest of my companions. I was especially fond of animals, and was indulged by my parents with a great variety of pets. With these I spent most of my time, and never was so happy as when feeding and caressing them. This peculiarity of character grew with my growth, and in my manhood, I derived from it one of my principal sources of pleasure. To those who have cherished an affection for a faithful and sagacious dog, I need hardly be at the trouble of explaining the nature or the intensity of the gratification thus derivable. There is something in the unselfish and self-sacrificing love of a brute, which goes directly to the heart of him who has had frequent occasion to test the paltry friendship and gossamer fidelity of mere Man .

I married early, and was happy to find in my wife a disposition not uncongenial with my own. Observing my partiality for domestic pets, she lost no opportunity of procuring those of the most agreeable kind. We had birds, gold-fish, a fine dog, rabbits, a small monkey, and a cat .

داستان A Haunted House - خانه اشباح نوشته ی ویرجینیا وولف با ترجمه فارسی

A Haunted House by Virginia Woolf


Whatever hour you woke there was a door shutting. From room to room they went, hand in hand, lifting here, opening there, making sure--a ghostly couple.

"Here we left it," she said. And he added, "Oh, but here tool" "It's upstairs," she murmured. "And in the garden," he whispered. "Quietly," they said, "or we shall wake them."

But it wasn't that you woke us. Oh, no. "They're looking for it; they're drawing the curtain," one might say, and so read on a page or two. "Now they've found it,' one would be certain, stopping the pencil on the margin. And then, tired of reading, one might rise and see for oneself, the house all empty, the doors standing open, only the wood pigeons bubbling with content and the hum of the threshing machine sounding from the farm. "What did I come in here for? What did I want to find?" My hands were empty. "Perhaps its upstairs then?" The apples were in the loft. And so down again, the garden still as ever, only the book had slipped into the grass.

داستان The Guest - مهمان نوشته ی آلبر کامو با ترجمه ی فارسی

The Guest

by Albert Camus. Translated by Justin O'Brien.

1

The schoolmaster was watching the two men climb toward him. One was on horseback, the other on foot. They had not yet tackled the abrupt rise leading to the schoolhouse built on the hillside. They were toiling onward, making slow progress in the snow, among the stones, on the vast expanse oft he high, deserted plateau. From time to time the horse stumbled. Without hearing anything yet, he could see the breath issuing from the horses nostrils. One of the men, at least, knew the region. They were following the trail although it had disappeared days ago under a layer of dirty white snow. The schoolmaster calculated that it would take them half an hour to get onto the hill. It was cold; he went back into the school to get a sweater.

2

He crossed the empty, frigid classroom. On the blackboard the four rivers of France, 1 drawn with four different colored chalks, had been flowing toward their estuaries for the past three days. Snow had suddenly fallen in mid-October after eight months of drought without the transition of rain, and the twenty pupils, more or less, who lived in the villages scattered over the plateau had stopped coming. With fair weather they would return. Daru now heated only the single room that was lodging, adjoining the classroom and giving also onto the plateau to the east. Like the class cows, his window looked to the south too. On that side the school was a few kilometers from the point where the plateau began to slope toward the south. In clear weather could be seen the purple mass of the mountain range where the gap opened onto the desert. 

داستان Misery-اندوه نوشته ی آنتوان چخوف با ترجمه فارسی

Misery by Anton Chekhov



The twilight of evening. Big flakes of wet snow are whirling lazily about the street lamps, which have just been lighted, and lying in a thin soft layer on roofs, horses' backs, shoulders, caps. Iona Potapov, the sledge-driver, is all white like a ghost. He sits on the box without stirring, bent as double as the living body can be bent. If a regular snowdrift fell on him it seems as though even then he would not think it necessary to shake it off.... His little mare is white and motionless too. Her stillness, the angularity of her lines, and the stick-like straightness of her legs make her look like a halfpenny gingerbread horse. She is probably lost in thought. Anyone who has been torn away from the plough, from the familiar gray landscapes, and cast into this slough, full of monstrous lights, of unceasing uproar and hurrying people, is bound to think.
It is a long time since Iona and his nag have budged. They came out of the yard before dinnertime and not a single fare yet. But now the shades of evening are falling on the town. The pale light of the street lamps changes to a vivid color, and the bustle of the street grows noisier.
"Sledge to Vyborgskaya!" Iona hears. "Sledge!"
Iona starts, and through his snow-plastered eyelashes sees an officer in a military overcoat with a hood over his head.
"To Vyborgskaya," repeats the officer. "Are you asleep? To Vyborgskaya!"
In token of assent Iona gives a tug at the reins which sends cakes of snow flying from the horse's back and shoulders. The officer gets into the sledge. The sledge-driver clicks to the horse, cranes his neck like a swan, rises in his seat, and more from habit than necessity brandishes his whip. The mare cranes her neck, too, crooks her stick-like legs, and hesitatingly sets off....
"Where are you shoving, you devil?" Iona immediately hears shouts from the dark mass shifting to and fro before him. "Where the devil are you going? Keep to the r-right!"
"You don't know how to drive! Keep to the right," says the officer angrily.
A coachman driving a carriage swears at him; a pedestrian crossing the road and brushing the horse's nose with his shoulder looks at him angrily and shakes the snow off his sleeve. Iona fidgets on the box as though he were sitting on thorns, jerks his elbows, and turns his eyes about like one possessed as though he did not know where he was or why he was there.

داستان The Lottery- قرعه کشی نوشته ی Shirley Jackson با ترجمه فارسی

The Lottery

by Shirley Jackson

The morning of June 27th was clear and sunny, with the fresh warmth of a full-summer day; the flowers were blossoming profusely and the grass was richly green. The people of the village began to gather in the square, between the post office and the bank, around ten o'clock; in some towns there were so many people that the lottery took two days and had to be started on June 26th. but in this village, where there were only about three hundred people, the whole lottery took less than two hours, so it could begin at ten o'clock in the morning and still be through in time to allow the villagers to get home for noon dinner.
The children assembled first, of course. School was recently over for the summer, and the feeling of liberty sat uneasily on most of them; they tended to gather together quietly for a while before they broke into boisterous play, and their talk was still of the classroom and the teacher, of books and reprimands. Bobby Martin had already stuffed his pockets full of stones, and the other boys soon followed his example, selecting the smoothest and roundest stones; Bobby and Harry Jones and Dickie Delacroix-- the villagers pronounced this name "Dellacroy"--eventually made a great pile of stones in one corner of the square and guarded it against the raids of the other boys. The girls stood aside, talking among themselves, looking over their shoulders at the boys, and the very small children rolled in the dust or clung to the hands of their older brothers or sisters.
Soon the men began to gather, surveying their own children, speaking of planting and rain, tractors and taxes. They stood together, away from the pile of stones in the corner, and their jokes were quiet and they smiled rather than laughed. The women, wearing faded house dresses and sweaters, came shortly after their menfolk. They greeted one another and exchanged bits of gossip as they went to join their husbands. Soon the women, standing by their husbands, began to call to their children, and the children came reluctantly, having to be called four or five times. Bobby Martin ducked under his mother's grasping hand and ran, laughing, back to the pile of stones. His father spoke up sharply, and Bobby came quickly and took his place between his father and his oldest brother.