A path diverged in local Brent,
Before Boston Manor, my station that night
On one track trudged an older gent
Who took with him a most unpleasant scent -
He chose the pathway on my right;
Then on the left side, just as fair,
(Though allowing for better view of the track)
A happy couple skipped along there:
Into each other's eyes they could not but stare,
And nothing did they seem to lack.
Both paths that evening equally lay
As concrete, caked in dirt and gum
Oh, I kept the left for another day!
For I could hold my breath a little way,
And not disturb the blissful young.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two paths diverged near Chiswick, and I—
I took the one less travelled by,
And that has made all the difference.
For the original poem visit http://www.poetryfoundation.org/poem/173536
No comments:
Post a Comment