My November Guest

Robert Frost

My Sorrow,when she's here with me,Thinks these dark days of autumn rain Are beautiful as days can be;She loves the bare,the withered tree;She walks the sodden pasture lane.

Her pleasure will not let me stay.She talks and I am fain to list:She's glad the birds are gone away,She's glad her simple worsted grey Is silver now with clinging mist.

The desolate,deserted trees,The faded earth,the heavy sky,The beauties she so truly sees,She thinks I have no eye for these,And vexes me for reason why.

Not yesterday I learned to know The love of bare November days Before the coming of the snow,But it were vain to tell her so,And they are better for her praise.

我的忧愁和我同在这里时认为这些秋雨连绵的日子是一年四季最美丽的时日；她爱那些光秃秃的枯树枝，她常漫步在浸水的湿草地。

她的愉快不容我稍事歇息，她喋喋不休，我不得不听；她高兴那些鸟儿都已离去，她高兴她朴素的灰色毛衣，沾满雾气，晶亮有如白银。

那一棵棵寂寞荒凉的树木，阴沉的天空，褪色的大地，她看得真切、美好的景物，以为我缺乏眼力熟视无睹，总缠着问我由于什么道理。

并不是昨天我才开始懂得喜爱这些白雪降临之前的贫瘠而又荒凉的11月景色，可是我又何必告诉她这个，经她赞美的景色毕竟更美。