| |
| 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. |
| |
martedì 13 dicembre 2011
The Road Not Taken (ROBERT FROST)
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