We dance round in a ring and suppose,
But the Secret sits in the middle and knows.
Robert Frost, The Secret Sits (1942)
(Foto scattata sul Lago di Como, Via Per Cernobbio)
Non è mai solo chi è in compagnia di nobili pensieri.
We dance round in a ring and suppose,
But the Secret sits in the middle and knows.
Robert Frost, The Secret Sits (1942)
(Foto scattata sul Lago di Como, Via Per Cernobbio)
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A voice said, Look me in the stars
And tell me truly, men of earth,
If all the soul-and-body scars
Were not too much to pay for birth.
A Question, Robert Frost
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Snow falling and night falling fast, oh, fast
In a field I looked into going past,
And the ground almost covered smooth in snow,
But a few weeds and stubble showing last.
The woods around it have it—it is theirs.
All animals are smothered in their lairs.
I am too absent-spirited to count;
The loneliness includes me unawares.
And lonely as it is, that loneliness
Will be more lonely ere it will be less—
A blanker whiteness of benighted snow
With no expression, nothing to express.
They cannot scare me with their empty spaces
Between stars—on stars where no human race is.
I have it in me so much nearer home
To scare myself with my own desert places.
Desert Places, Robert Frost