2nd poem of the day
For some reason I thought of this poem after reading the one LS posted. Not really similiar but something clicked in my brain. Sorry no translation...
Robert Frost
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy 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.
3 comments:
Wonderful, I'll have to check Robert Frost out.
I also think I like Robert Frost more and more. I must check him out too!
Found some Robert Frost online.
Seems to write a lot about the winter, but his name is Frost after all.
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