I hope better times will come but, the truth is that right now, I see everything pretty bleak (is it also a reflection of the weather???). For this week, let me just leave you a poem...
Also by Robert Frost, here is another text I love and whose last lines make so much sense for me at the moment:
![]() |
| Credit: www.biography.com |
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 may 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.

