The timeless waves crash against the desolate beach,Haunted cries of the gulls, hanging in a lonely wind.As sand whips around my feet plumes of reeds guide my eyes.The pink horizon holding memories of an ancient mariner’s tale.Each breath invigorates my soul with peace from this world,The muffled applause of sea and shingle, constant and steady. With no one to share this feast of spindrift and...
Pity me not because the light of dayAt close of day no longer walks the sky;Pity me not for beauties passed awayFrom field and thicket as the year goes by;Pity me not the waning of the moon,Nor that the ebbing tide goes out to sea,Nor that a man’s desire is hushed so soon,And you no longer look with love on me. This love I have known always: love is no moreThan the wide blossom which...
When April bends above meAnd finds me fast asleepDust need not keep the secretA live heart died to keep. When April tells the thrushes,The meadow-larks will know,And pipe the three words lightlyTo all the winds that blow. Above his roof the swallows,In notes like far-blown rain,Will tell the little sparrowBeside his window-pane. O sparrow, little sparrow,When I am fast asleep,Then tell my love...
Oh, the charm of idle dreamingWhere the dappled shadows dance,All the leafy aisles are teemingWith the lure of old romance! Down into the forest dipping,Deep and deeper as we go,One might fancy dryads slippingWhere the white-stemmed birches grow. Lurking gnome and freakish fairyIn the fern may peep and hide . . .Sure their whispers low and airyRing us in on every side! Saw you where the pines are...
I have wished a bird would fly away,And not sing by my house all day;
Have clapped my hands at him from the doorWhen it seemed as if I could bear no more.
The fault must partly have been in me.The bird was not to blame for his key.
And of course there must be something wrongIn wanting to silence any song.
Robert Frost (March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
Don’t reject the crooked road and don’t take the straight one,
instead take the one traveled by the ancestors.
(Cambodian Proverb)
I wandered lonely as a cloudThat floats on high o’er vales and hills,When all at once I saw a crowd,A host, of golden daffodils;Beside the lake, beneath the trees,Fluttering and dancing in the breeze. Continuous as the stars that shineAnd twinkle on the milky way,They stretched in never-ending lineAlong the margin of a bay:The thousand saw I at a glance,Tossing their heads in sprightly...
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,And sorry I could not travel bothAnd be one traveler, long I stoodAnd looked down one as far as I couldTo where it bent in the undergrowth; Then took the other, as just as fair,And having perhaps the better claim,Because it was grassy and wanted wear;Though as for that the passing thereHad worn them really about the same, And both that morning equally layIn...
A lake and a fairy boatTo sail in the moonlight clear, –And merrily we would floatFrom the dragons that watch us here! Thy gown should be snow-white silkAnd strings of oriental pearls,Like gossamers dipped in milk,Should twine with thy raven curls! Red rubies should deck thy hands,And diamonds should be thy dower –But fairies have broke their wands,And wishing has lost its power...
Tonight I arrived at a train station.Same as the rest. Lingering, suffocating,serene at times, submergedunder the magic spell of the clock.And I played the mole, tired little beastcrouched in a corner,watching them go by, running, giving up,or devouring the teller’s little windowto ask for a ticket, a schedule,and running again. Tonight I arrived at the station,and I refused to remember the other...