Around the fire, one wintry night, 一个冬天的夜晚，

　　The farmer's rosy children sat; 农民可爱的孩子们围坐在火旁；

　　The fagot lent its blazing light, 柴火给出它明亮的光芒，

　　And jokes went round, and careless chat; 带着笑声，漫不经心的聊天；

　　When, hark! a gentle hand they hear 这时候，听！他们听到一只温柔的

　　Low tapping at the bolted door; 手正低敲打螺栓门；

　　And thus, to gain their willing ear, 因此，一个微弱恳求的声音

　　A feeble voice was heard implore:— 获得了它们的倾听者：—

　　"Cold blows the blast across the moor, “冷风吹过荒原，

　　The sleet drives hissing in the wind; 雨雪在风中发出嘶嘶；

　　Yon toilsome mountain lies before— 你辛苦的山面前—

　　A dreary, treeless waste behind. 一个沉闷的，浪费的背后。

　　"My eyes are weak and dim with age, “因为年纪我的眼睛是虚弱而黯淡，

　　No road, no path can I descry; 我看不见路，看不见路

　　And these poor rags ill stand the rage 这些破病站的愤怒

　　Of such a keen, inclement sky. 这种敏锐的，恶劣的天空。

　　"So faint I am, these tottering feet “如此微弱的我，这摇摇欲坠的脚

　　No more my palsied frame can bear; 我颤抖的身躯无法承受更多；

　　My freezing heart forgets to beat, 我冰冻的心忘了跳动，

　　And drifting snows my tomb prepare. 我准备好了漂流的雪墓。

　　"Open your hospitable door, “打开你的好客的门，

　　And shield me from the biting blast: 让我抵挡刺骨的风：

　　Cold, cold it blows across the moor— 冷风，冷风它吹过荒原—

　　The weary moor that I have passed!" 我已经厌倦荒原！”

　　With hasty steps the farmer ran, 农夫脚步匆匆的跑过去，

　　And, close beside the fire, they place 从他们而且靠近火的地方

　　The poor half-frozen beggar-man, 可怜的冻僵的乞丐，

　　With shaking limbs and pale-blue face. 四肢震颤和淡蓝色的脸。

　　The little children flocking came, 孩子们蜂拥来到，

　　And chafed his frozen hands in theirs; 用他们的手搓着他冻僵的手；

　　And busily the good old dame 而善良的老婆婆匆忙的

　　A comfortable mess prepares. 准备好一个舒适的餐厅。

　　Their kindness cheered his drooping soul; 他们的仁慈振奋着他下垂的灵魂；

　　And slowly down his wrinkled cheek 他布满皱纹的脸颊慢慢的缓和

　　The big round tear was seen to roll, 又大又圆的眼泪翻滚着，

　　Which told the thanks he could not speak. 诉说着他无法言语的谢谢。

　　The children then began to sigh, 然后孩子们开始叹息，

　　And all their merry chat was o'er; 他们开始在快乐聊天；

　　And yet they felt, they knew not why, 但他们感觉不知道为什么，

　　More glad than they had done before. 他们比之前更高兴。