jeudi 24 octobre 2013

Stopping by my Canadian Drainage Pit on a Rainy Evening

A homage to Robert Frost's "Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening"

I thought I knew a way to drain
My village house, under water, seemed to need a crane
Every attempt to dig or hoe a trench with my hoe
With each rain I ran to the mop; now my tender foe

Stretching its paws, my little cat must think it uncanny
That I spend hours gazing at a trench
Like a 90 year old nanny
Yet between my house and this giant puddle
The universe is wet and muddled

Then I gave my mop another swipe
Splashed droplets zigzagged down my unshaven face
"Could there be some error in this hole I am digging?"
My efforts went unanswered 
Except for the raindrops that went pinging

A big puddle, dark and lovely, is the joy of a child's soul
And the demon for the one who can not drain
Do you get it? I have given my word
And must dig yonder before I rest
and must dig yonder before I rest.

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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