мне нравится переводы, которые близки к оригмналу (без лишней "отсебятины")
когда-то, после прочтения фантастического рассказа "Мне еще ехать далеко" Д.Вебера, мне запало стихотворение Р.Фроста, используемое там в качестве лейтмотива.
В рассказе стих дан в переводе И.Кашкина.
Вот оригинал:

Robert Frost

Stopping by Woods on a Snoowy Evening

Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.

My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and, frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound's the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep.
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.

Попробуете?
(Я искренне, без подвоха)