English Poetry. Robert Lee Frost. October. Роберт Ли Фрост.

Robert Lee Frost (Роберт Ли Фрост) October O hushed October morning mild, Thy leaves have ripened to the fall; Tomorrow’s wind, if it be wild, Should waste them all. The crows above the forest call; Tomorrow they may form and go. O hushed October morning mild, Begin […]

English Poetry. Robert Lee Frost. Waiting. Роберт Ли Фрост.

Robert Lee Frost (Роберт Ли Фрост) Waiting Afield at dusk What things for dream there are when specter-like, Moving amond tall haycocks lightly piled, I enter alone upon the stubbled filed, From which the laborers’ voices late have died, And in the antiphony of afterglow And […]