Следы прикосновения снега чаще остаются на волосах поэтов:-) Кстати, у Роберта Фроста есть лошадёнка, похожая на эту собачонку равнодушием (притворным, надеюсь!) к снегу. Привожу знаменитый текст на случай, если у Вас под рукой его прямо сейчас нет:-) (Джу)
"Stopping by woods on a snowy evening"
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 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.
Близнецы Габриэляны 26.05.2010 02:04 •
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