Bret Harte - The Aged Stranger 汉译

“I was with Grant”—the stranger said;

  Said the farmer, “Say no more,

But rest thee here at cottage porch,

For thy feet are weary and store.”

“I was with Grant”—the stranger said;

  Said the farmer, “Nay, no more.

I prithee sit at my frugal board,

  And eat of my humble store.

“How fares my boy,—my soldier boy,

Of the old Ninth Army Corps?

I warrant he bore him gallantly

In the smoke and the battle’s roar!”

“I know him not,” said the aged man,

  “And, as I remarked before,

I was with Grant” —“Nay, nay, I know,”

  Said the farmer, “say no more.”

“He fell in battle, —I see, alas!

  Thou’dst smooth these tidings o’er.

Nay, speak the truth, whatever it be,

  Though it read my bosom’s core.”

“I cannot tell,” said the aged man,

  “And should have remarked before,

That I was with Grant, —in Illinois, —

Three years before the war.”

Then the farmer spake him never a word,

  But beat with his fist full sore

That aged man, who had worked for Grant

  Three years before the war.