It was far in the sameness of the wood;
I was running with joy on the Demon's trail,
Though I knew what I hunted was no true god.
i was just as the light was beginning to fail
That I suddenly head--all I needed to hear:
It has lasted me many and many a year.

The sound was behind me instead of before,
A sleepy sound, but mocking half,
As one who utterly couldn't care.
The Demon arose from his wallow to laugh,
Brushing the dirt from his eye as he went;
And well I knew what the Demon meant.

I shall not forget how his laugh rang out.
I felt as a fool to have been so caught,
And checked my steps to make pretense
I was something among the leaves I sought
(Though doubtful whether he stayed to see).
Thereafter I sat me against a tree.

Robert Frost

P.D: Now it is time to raise my head.

# - Escrito por Fabrizio el 2006-05-27 a las 01:32

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De: Nfer Fecha: 2006-05-28 14:58

Gracias a la "lectura obligatoria" odié con tesón y prolijidad a los escritores ingleses y a casi cualquiera, y ahora disfruto el doble de volver a leerlos.
R.Frost es uno de mis favoritos .
Catherine Mansfield me atrapa, la odio a veces pues me parece que escribe lo que yo no puedo siquiera expresar...¡y vuelvo a leerle!
Buen domingo, gracias por el regalo

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