Monday, May 18, 2009

The Road Not Taken

I was 'introduced' to this poem via my first Coelho book, Like The Flowing River. I think I've re-produced it at least twice in my other blogs some time back, and now I would like to do that again here as it is most appropriate:


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.


  1. Oh, lovely. I remember this from college days where we had to analyze the whole of it...ahh, literature class it was where i had to read this kind of stuff.

  2. Yes this is lovely, kan? Sometimes I feel a pang of regret for not choosing Eng Lit as a subject. Neruda's work is also achingly beautiful.