Δρόμοι του νου και των λέξεων

Source 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. BY ROBERT FROST

Αλφάδι το μυαλό βουλιάζει μέσα σε χρώματα και ήχους που μοιάζουν από κόσμο αλλόκοτο να γεννούνται απότομα μέσα στη σιωπή να διηγούνται με λέξεις λατρευτές, λαχτάρα, λαγνεία, λοισμονιά, αλλά και λύπη, στις έβδομες και στις έκτες και πάντα μινόρε ακόμα και στις παύσεις, στα κόκκινα, στα κίτρινα, στη γαλήνη και στον ξέφρενο χωρό στο κέφι, στο σπαραγμό κι ακόμα και στο σκοτάδι.

Looking in, while walking the unknown, doesn't feel like coming home. Mother where are you, I am crying out alone, hurt and wounded, having lost the battle with the beast. How can I came back, there's so much to be done I haven't finished my flowers haven't blossomed yet.

Hello again, my dark friend, though I was in hope, that forgotten I was, seems we have to meet again.