Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening

by

nga Robert Frost

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 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’s 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.

One Response to “Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening”

  1. dana Says:

    nuk di mire nese me terhoqen me shume vargjet e Frost apo zeri magjeps i Cohen..combinimi,edhe pse i veçante me pelqeu shume.
    e brava D.!🙂

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