雪夜林间少驻

Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening

Robert Frost

Whose woods these are I think I know,
His house is in the village though.
He will not see me stopping here,
To watch his woods fill up with snow.

My little horse must think it queer,
To stop without a farmhouse near,
Between the woods and frozen lake,
The darkest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bells a shake,
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound's the sweep,
Of easy wind and downy flake.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep

 

雪夜林间少驻

莫问谁家林
匆匆又一村
停车爱残雪
一年夜最深

铃铛一声响
马儿不耐烦
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钟爱林深深
惭愧世俗人
道路漫且远

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