Archivo del blog

domingo, 12 de septiembre de 2010

Cae



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 whith 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.
"Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening" - Robert Frost

">
"Nuvole bianche" - Ludovico Einaudi (Una mattina, 2004)

2 comentarios: