Daca e marti, e Belgia...asa se numea filmul?

Ei bine, rasfoind filele blogurilor altora, am descoperit ca pe la unii vinerea e zi de poezie, cam un fel de Cenaclul Flacara (eee, asa glumesc eu, cenaclu literar). Sincer, mie-mi place, si poate, daca nu uit sau cine stie ce intervine in viata mea, o sa incerc sa pastrez si eu traditia asta, sa pun cate-o poezie pe blogul meu in fiecare vineri. Mai ales ca le duc dorul, le iubesc si parca am cam uitat de ele, asa cum mai uit uneori de sufletul meu, prinsa in ritmul rotund al vietii mele.

Pentru azi am optat pentru Robert Frost, o poezie pe care o simt ca fiind parte din mine in prezentul meu ffff...prezent. :)















The Road Not Taken


Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To 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 there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I marked the first for another day
Yet knowing how way leads on to way
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.