My November Guest

My November Guest

Robert Frost (from A Boy’s Will, 1915)

My sorrow, when she’s here with me,    Thinks these dark days of autumn rain Are beautiful as days can be; She loves the bare, the withered tree;    She walks the sodden pasture lane. Her pleasure will not let me stay.    She talks and I am fain to list: She’s glad the birds are gone away, She’s glad her simple worsted gray    Is silver now with clinging mist. The desolate, deserted trees,    The faded earth, the heavy sky, The beauties she so truly sees, She thinks I have no eye for these,    And vexes me for reason why. Not yesterday I learned to know The love of bare November day Before the coming of the snow, But it were vain to tell her so, And they are better for her praise. Behind we leave the summer laughs. There they rest our instant emotions, the fragile happiness of all those senses put together... Autumn comes back again undoubtedly to make all that seem the light that guides us towards the narrow and dark paths of the winter towards the longed spring. Now more than never before, I'm so happy to meet up again! With new ventures, renewed energy and hope. All those little things that make life a little more fair. See you at La Tequería every Thursday at 19:30 Onrouters!!