La vie en rose

Kan ikke grine.
Mitt liv er pine
og ren rutine.

Hva kan jeg gjøre?

Hvor enn jeg vanker,
i egne tanker,
jeg intet sanker,
men hjertet banker.

Mitt liv er pine
og ren rutine.

Kan ikke grine.

-“La Môme” (eller “Spurven”) om Edith Piaf

Av og til kan man kanskje kjenne seg litt igjen i klagesangen som mor til Edith Piaf åpner “La Môme” med?

Fortsett å lese La vie en rose

The Road Not Taken

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.

-Robert Frost