Poet and playwriter. Millay was born in Rockland, Maine on February 22. In 1923 her fourth volume of poems, The Harp Weaver, was awarded the Pulitzer Prize. In addition to publishing three plays in verse, Millay also wrote the libretto of one of the few American grand operas, The King's Henchman (1927).

米莱，美国诗人兼剧作家，1892年2月22日出生于缅因州的罗克兰市。1923年她的第四部诗集《竖琴编织人》获普利策奖。除了出版过三出诗剧外， 米莱还为为数不多的美国大歌剧之一《国王的侍从》(1927年)谱写了歌词。

Laoha, poet and translator, pen name of Xiaoqing Mario Li, born in China in 1960. He moved to USA in 1986 and made his residence in northern Nevada since 1987.

老哈，诗人、译者，原名李小庆，1960年出生于中国成都，1986年赴美，后定居内华达至今。

What Lips My Lips Have Kissed, And Where, And Why (Sonnet XLIII)

我的唇吻过谁的唇

What lips my lips have kissed, and where, and why, 
I have forgotten, and what arms have lain 
Under my head till morning; but the rain 
Is full of ghosts tonight, that tap and sigh 
Upon the glass and listen for reply, 
And in my heart there stirs a quiet pain 
For unremembered lads that not again 
Will turn to me at midnight with a cry. 
Thus in winter stands the lonely tree, 
Nor knows what birds have vanished one by one, 
Yet knows its boughs more silent than before: 
I cannot say what loves have come and gone, 
I only know that summer sang in me 
A little while, that in me sings no more.
			

我的唇吻过谁的唇，何时何地，
又因何而起？我还曾枕过谁的手臂
直至天明？如今，我已毫无记忆。
但这夜雨鬼影重重，敲打着窗玻璃，
似乎在等待回音，在轻声叹息。
那个我已忘记的少年，在深夜里
再也不会翻身面向我。静静地，
我的心在疼，抑制不住哭泣。

这样挺立在寒冬里，孤寂的树
没有人知道什么小鸟在一只只消失，
却能够感到它的枝干越来越沉寂：
我说不出为何，爱情来了又去，
我只知道，我心中的夏天
曾经歌声嘹亮，如今已无声无息。
			

The Plaid Dress

方格花呢连衫裙

Strong sun, that bleach
The curtains of my room, can you not render
Colourless this dress I wear?-- 
This violent plaid
Of purple angers and red shames; the yellow stripe
Of thin but valid treacheries; the flashy green of kind deeds done
Through indolence high judgments given here in haste; 
The recurring checker of the serious breach of taste?

No more uncoloured than unmade,
I fear, can be this garment that I may not doff;
Confession does not strip it off,
To send me homeward eased and bare;

All through the formal, unoffending evening, under the clean
Bright hair,
Lining the subtle gown.. .it is not seen, 
But it is there.
			

火辣辣的太阳，
你已经染白了我房间的窗帘，
能不能饶了我
这身连衫裙的斑斓？
这热烈的方格布愤紫羞红，
这细黄纹生性反叛，
这方格重复品味特异，
这绿底炫耀善良懒散？

我担心，这件我不能脱下的衣衫，
褪色就好像把它拆散来一样简单；
但对此坦白并不会将它剥去，
轻易地就把我赤裸裸地送上回家的路面；

这一晚的所有一切，虽正式却并不令人难堪。
在闪亮的洁净头发下，
虽然看不见，
我穿着薄薄的睡衫。
			

Thursday

星期四

And if I loved you Wednesday,
    Well, what is that to you?
I do not love you Thursday─ 
    So much is true. 

And why you come complaining
    Is more than I can see.
I loved you Wednesday,─yes─but what 
    Is that to me? 
			

假如，我在星期三爱你，
	那关你什么事？
到星期四，我不爱你了，
	这完全是事实。

你干嘛要来抱怨，
	我不懂这道理。
我在星期三爱你，对呀-可
	那又关我什么事？