2013 review

Time flies. 2013 ends. I try to recall all the exciting and sad things in the year; really more than previous years.

  • Read 11 non-academic books;
  • Visited 14 new places in the UK;
  • Did 8 things I never did before.
A poem for 2013 and a poem for my 2014:

 

The Year 
Ella Wheeler Wilcox (1850-1919), published in 1910 

 

What can be said in New Year rhymes, 
That’s not been said a thousand times? 
 
The new years come, the old years go, 
We know we dream, we dream we know. 
 
We rise up laughing with the light, 
We lie down weeping with the night. 
 
We hug the world until it stings, 
We curse it then and sigh for wings. 
 
We live, we love, we woo, we wed, 
We wreathe our brides, we sheet our dead. 
 
We laugh, we weep, we hope, we fear, 
And that’s the burden of the year. 
 
 
The Road Not Taken 
Robert Frost (1874–1963). Mountain Interval. 1920.
 
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.
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