duminică, 13 septembrie 2009
vineri, 11 septembrie 2009
duminică, 6 septembrie 2009
vineri, 4 septembrie 2009
Popas la margine de codru intr-o seara cu ninsoare
Popas la margine de codru intr-o seara cu ninsoare
Padurile-s ale cuiva
Ce-si are casa-n sat , abia
Nu va vedea ca ma opresc
Privind copacii plini de nea .
Calutul crede ca gresesc
In loc pustiu de poposesc :
Padure si-un lac inghetat .
Si valurile noptii cresc .
C-un clinchet el s-a scuturat
Ceva parandu-I ca-I ciudat
In rest doar vantul linistit
Alinta fulgii care cad .
E tainic codrul invelit
Dar drum mai am de-acoperit .
‘Nainte de-a fi adormit .
‘Nainte de-a fi adormit .
translated in Romanian by Teodor Munteanu
original here :
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.
Padurile-s ale cuiva
Ce-si are casa-n sat , abia
Nu va vedea ca ma opresc
Privind copacii plini de nea .
Calutul crede ca gresesc
In loc pustiu de poposesc :
Padure si-un lac inghetat .
Si valurile noptii cresc .
C-un clinchet el s-a scuturat
Ceva parandu-I ca-I ciudat
In rest doar vantul linistit
Alinta fulgii care cad .
E tainic codrul invelit
Dar drum mai am de-acoperit .
‘Nainte de-a fi adormit .
‘Nainte de-a fi adormit .
translated in Romanian by Teodor Munteanu
original here :
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.
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