Robert Frost›Poezii

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

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, And sorry I could travel both And be one traveler,long I stood And looked down one as far as I could To

I\'m going out to clean the pasture spring; I\'ll only stop to rake the leaves away (And wait to watch the water clear,I may): I sha\'n\'t be gone

The buzz saw snarled and rattled in the yard And made dust and dropped stove-length sticks of wood, Sweet-scented stuff when the breeze drew

The shattered water made a misty din. Great waves looked over others coming in, And thought of doing something to the shore That water never

You come to fetch me from my work tonight When supper\'s on the table, and we\'ll see If I can leave off burying the white Soft petals fallen from

The firm house lingers, though averse to square With the new city street it has to wear A number in. But what about the brook That held the

When I got up through the mowing field, The headless aftermath, Smooth-laid like thatch with the heavy dew, Half closes the garden path. And

I had withdrawn in forest, and my song Was swallowed up in leaves that blew alway; And to the forest edge you came one day (This was my dream) and

Dust always blowing about the town, Except when sea-fog laid it down, And I was one of the children told Some of the blowing dust was