My instep arch not only keeps the ache,

我的脚底不仅忍受酸疼的折磨。

It keeps the pressure of a ladder-round.

而且还得经受梯子档的分量，

I feel the ladder sway as the boughs bend,

随着树枝摇晃,

And I keep hearing from the cellar-bin.

我觉得梯子也不停晃悠，轰隆隆的声响.

That rumbling sound,

我听到地窖里不时传出,

Of load on load of apples coming in.

苹果一桶桶地往地窖里送。

For I have had too much,

因为摘了那么多，

Of apple-picking; I am overtired，

苹果，我感到筋疲力尽.

Of the great harvest I myself desired.

尽管我一直盼望这样的好收成。

There were ten thousand thousand fruit to touch,

千万个苹果要去采摘，

Cherish in hand, lift down, and not let fall,

要珍放在手中，轻轻放下，不能掉地，

For all

因为所有的苹果

That struck the earth,

只要一掉地，

No matter if not bruised, or spiked with stubble,

即使没碰伤，也没叫草梗扎破，

Went surely to the cider-apple heap

也准会堆在一边酿酒。

As of no worth.

仿佛毫无价值。

One can see what will trouble，

你能看到是什么在扰乱，

This sleep of mine, whatever sleep it is.

我的睡眠，不管这是否算得上睡觉。

Were he not gone,

倘若土拨鼠尚未离开，

The woodchuck could say whether it's like his

在听了我对睡梦的这番描述后，

Long sleep, as I describe its coming on,

它准会说这有点像它的冬眠，

Or just some human sleep.

或者说，这不过是人类的冬眠。