Un poem de ROBERT FROST
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening Whose woods these are I think I know, His house is in the village though. He will not see me stopping here, To watch his woods fill up with snow.
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening Whose woods these are I think I know, His house is in the village though. He will not see me stopping here, To watch his woods fill up with snow.