名人诗歌|ANTHOLOGY OF MASSACHUSETTS POETS (52)

DEAREST, we are like two flowers Blooming in the garden, A purple aster^{1 flower and a red one Standing2 alone in a withered3 desolation.}

The garden plants are shattered and seeded, One brittle^{4 leaf scrapes against another, Fiddling5 echoes of a rush of petals6. Now only you and I nodding together.}

Many were with us； they have all faded. only we are purple and crimson^{7, only we in the dew-clear mornings, Smarten into color as the sun rises.}

When I scarcely see you in the flat moonlight, And later when my cold roots tighten^{8, I am anxious for morning, I cannot rest in fear of what may happen.}

You or I-and I am a coward. Surely frost should take the crimson. Purple is a finer color,

Very splendid in isolation^9.

So we nod above the broken Stems of flowers almost rotted. Many mornings there cannot be now For us both. Ah, Dear, I love you！