The Road Not Taken
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.
– Robert Frost
(From Mountain Interval, 1920)
Notes
According to the Wikipedia article on this poem, it has often been mistakenly interpreted as an argument for taking the less traveled (less popular) road. Well, dear readers, what do YOU think?
It’s been a long time since I read this poem and this is the first time I detected regret that he couldn’t or would never be able to go back and try the other road. Which ever road he took it would make all the difference in is life, Frost is saying.