Ronalds Notizen

von Robert Frost

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.

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