My November Guest

深秋来客

Robert Frost

My sorrow, when she's here with me,

我的忧愁，当她和我在一起，

Thinks these dark days of autumn rain

她以为秋天的这些雨天

Are beautiful as days can be;

在所有的日子里或许最美；

She loves the bare, the withered tree;

她爱看光秃秃的树木，

She walks the sodden pasture lane.

她爱走湿漉漉的牧场小路。

Her pleasure will not let me stay.

她的欣喜，不让我呆在家。

She talks and I am fain to list:

她爱说话，我乐意倾听：

She's glad the birds are gone away,

她指给我看鸟儿往南飞，

She's glad her simple worsted grey

她欣喜于自己身上的灰毛衣

Is silver now with clinging mist.

在粘粘的薄雾中闪着光。

The desolate, deserted trees,

那远处荒凉的树林，

The faded earth, the heavy sky,

还有褪色的地，阴沉的天，

The beauties she so truly sees,

这些她都看得仔细

She thinks I have no eye for these,

她责怪我不懂得欣赏这一切，

And vexes me for reason why.

边说边用眼睛轻轻瞪我。

Not yesterday I learned to know

我并不是到今天才明白

The love of bare November days

在雪花飘落之前

Before the coming of the snow,

秋天的这几个日子有多温暖，

But it were vain to tell her so,

但我把忧愁藏在心底，

And they are better for her praise.

回味她的欣喜使秋天这样美。