the lost world

15.04.2007., nedjelja

. . . drive away. . .

za informaciju zbunjenih ljudi nisam zaljubljena jer je to osobama poput mene nemoguće. no neda mi se pisati cila hištorija neg sam ću napisati: PUTOVANJE JE POČELO 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's 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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