Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,Robert Frost
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.
Own only what you can carry with you; know language, know countries, know people. Let your memory be your travel bag. - Alexander Solzhenitsyn
Friday, November 23, 2007
The Road Not Taken
Ms. J's class is making poetry anthologies and one of her students included this poem in his homework. She told me that it was her favourite poem and it occurred to me that it has been too long since I have read any good poetry and also how much more I love this poem in its entirety, rather than the often quoted last lines.
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