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 marked 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 (1874-1963)
photo, Silkeborg, November 2008: gb
4 comments:
favourite favourite poem of all times! and yesterday as the gardener raked up the leaves both fresh and black as well I thought about this lovely tender poem and how it touches the heart so tellingly.
thankyou Gretel!
Hello Gerry, I'm always very glad when it's a favorite poem to someone. It's funny that you were thinking of it yesterday.
Hope all is well at home.
Grethe ´)
One of my favourites
Hej Cait O'Connor, thank you very much
Have a nice Sunday!
Grethe ´)
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