Fine diktet.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.
lørdag 2. april 2011
Fine diktet!
Jeg leser ikke mye poesi. Men da jeg så Quentin Tarrantino sin "Death Proof" og hørte utdrag av Robert Frost ble jeg små-hektet.
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Åh, Robert Frost er ei fin dør inn i poesien da. Fine diktet!
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