He is fugitive - escaped, escaping.
No one has seen him stumble looking back.
His fear is not behind him but beside him
On either hand to make his course perhaps
A crooked straightness yet no less a straightness.
He rubs face forward. He is a pursuer.
He seeks a seeker who in his turn seeks
Another still, lost far into the distance.
Any who seek him seek in him the seeker.
His life is apersuit of a pursuit forever.
It is the future that creates the present.
All is an interminable chain of longing.
<<на русском http://members.tripod.com/poetry_pe...s/Frost.htm#esc >>
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26.08.2005 в 14:42потянувшись за тоолстой книгой
в руки упала тоненькая
прочитав Robert Frost..она так и осталась со мной
усевшись на пол...пытался переводить со словарём...
."Love is an irresistible desire to be irresistibly desired".