Readers and scholars are intimately familiar with Bob Folder’s translation of Robert Frost’s “Stopping By the Woods on a Snowy Evening,” “Dropping By the Goods on a Low-Brow Heathen.” But they are only now starting to come to terms with a completely unknown alternative translation of that poem called “I Have Felt One Elf Tainted By the Sight,” which is a translation of “Acquainted With the Night.”
I Have Felt One Elf Tainted By the Sight
I have felt one elf tainted by the sight
Of Wookies in chains in shacks of shame.
I’m an outlaw furrier smitten with blight.
I have seen a Wookie’s shadow being blamed
For smoggy skies, a watch, your honor’s teat,
And flopped my pie to crumple up in pain.
Diagalev should smell his dancers’ feet
Then sharpen up his bumptious faille,
Observe a souse and learn to creep.
Touch nuts, but calm them when they start to cry.
The verger spills another on a guy
On whose runny cock was a gangrenous sty.
Rogaine’s fine to use if it is tight.
I have felt one elf tainted by the sight.