منی که میدونم متن‌هارو کسی نمیخونه و فقط برای خودم میذارمشون هروقت خواستم دوباره بخونمش.

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, And sorry I could not travel both And be one traveler, long I stood And looked down one as far as I could To where it bent in the undergrowth; Then took the other, as just as fair, And having perhaps the better claim,…

*Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference*.

The Road Not Taken By Robert Frost

صبح‌ها، وقتی از رؤیاهای سنگین خودم سر بر میدارم بیهوده به هوای او آغوش باز میکنم و شب‌ها، وقتی که خوابی سعادت آمیز و معصومانه به وهم‌ام دچار میکند، بیهوده در بستر خود از پی او می‌جویم، آنهم با حالی که انگاری در پیش او بر سر سبزه نشسته ام و دستش را در دست دارم…

Yet love’s like a needle on a record, taking parts of you away as it draws sharply and constantly across the heart, in slow descending circles, just to hear a song hidden in the scratches one more time.

I Wrote This for You and Only You
by Iain S. Thomas

می‌بندم این دو چشم پرآتش را
تا ننگرد درون دو چشمانش
تا داغ و پر تپش نشود قلبم
از شعلهٔ نگاه پریشانش

می‌بندم این دو چشم پرآتش را
تا بگذرم ز وادی رسوائی
تا قلب خامشم نکشد فریاد
رو می‌کنم به خلوت و تنهائی

بخشی از شعر شعله رمیده
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