Direktlänk till inlägg 7 februari 2012
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.
Underbar dikt av amerikanske poeten Robert Frost (1874-1963).
Vi läste en del av honom i engelskkursen på universitetet.
Min vinterpromenad fick mig att tänka på honom.
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