I mine yngre dager (les: de følelsesladde tenårene) elsket jeg å skrive dikt, og fikk noen av de publisert i diverse ukeblad. Vel, diktinga er langt til side for mange år siden, men det betyr ikke at jeg ikke liker å lese dikt!
Jeg fikk lyst til å dele med dere et dikt jeg oppdaget for 20 år siden, skrevet av den fabelaktige 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.
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.
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.
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.
Jeg forsøkte å huske den ene poeten jeg har sansen for, men kunne ikke for mitt bare liv huske navnet hans før jeg kom til siden din! Robert Frost har nydelige dikt. Dette var spesielt fint, syntes jeg.
SvarSlettJa, dette har vært yndlingsdiktet mitt i 20 år nå :) Vakkert
SvarSlettDefinitivt et av mine favorittdikt av Robert Frost, dette.
SvarSlett