Parachinar In Winter |
Parachinar In Winter |
noorie |
Apr 28 2007, 08:39 PM
Post
#1
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Dedicated Member Group: Away Posts: 3219 Joined: 21-June 06 Member No.: 6518 |
The Snow Man -Wallace Stevens One must have a mind of winter To regard the frost and the boughs Of the pine-trees crusted with snow; And have been cold a long time To behold the junipers shagged with ice, The spruces rough in the distant glitter Of the January sun; and not to think Of any misery in the sound of the wind, In the sound of a few leaves, Which is the sound of the land Full of the same wind That is blowing in the same bare place For the listener, who listens in the snow, And, nothing himself, beholds Nothing that is not there and the nothing that is. Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening -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 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. Noorie "During times of universal deceit, telling the truth becomes a revolutionary act" "You have enemies? Good! It means that you stood up for something, sometime in your life." |
Reeth |
Apr 30 2007, 01:54 AM
Post
#2
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Dedicated Member Group: Members Posts: 2154 Joined: 22-May 06 Member No.: 6151 |
The Snow Man -Wallace Stevens One must have a mind of winter To regard the frost and the boughs Of the pine-trees crusted with snow; And have been cold a long time To behold the junipers shagged with ice, The spruces rough in the distant glitter Of the January sun; and not to think Of any misery in the sound of the wind, In the sound of a few leaves, Which is the sound of the land Full of the same wind That is blowing in the same bare place For the listener, who listens in the snow, And, nothing himself, beholds Nothing that is not there and the nothing that is. Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening -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 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. Noorie Lovely ..the pics and the poems.. The greatest discovery of my generation is that human beings can alter their lives by altering their attitudes of mind -William James |
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