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Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening – Robert Frost Wednesday, November 25, 2009

Posted by Ágata in Poesia.
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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 the 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.

Oh, the temptation…

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Comments»

1. Wilson - Wednesday, November 25, 2009

olha só, o tarantino usa a última estrofe em “death proof”. não sabia que esse poema existia o.0

ah! cheguei aqui através do Meia Palavra


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